42. Roni

The lights of the cameras blinded me as I entered the large news network's building. My dad and his advisers all agreed I needed to spin what happened and make it very minimal. There was no getting around the fact that I went into hiding for safety concerns. There was no way to walk that back. So instead, I was going to rein in the speculation. There were rumors that I was dead and that the president had found a lookalike replacement.

All of my doctors and nurses at the hospital in Alaska were either bribed or scared into silence about my hospitalization. If anyone asked, I was never there and my medical records were removed from their database. With there being a number of hospitals in Anchorage, it would help provide plausible deniability for the hospital that treated me.

"Veronica!" The news reporters who were camped outside tried to get my attention. "Was it really a vacation?"

Another voice shouted at me, "Why the social media silence?"

A third voice: "Why were you in hiding?"

Diego grabbed my upper arms and ushered me through the crowd. The suits surrounded us, giving us a small bubble to walk through toward the big doors of the network. Once I made it through the door, I was able to take a deep breath.

Then before I had the chance to do or say anything, a producer greeted me and brought Diego and me to a private dressing room. "We don't always give this to our guests, but it's not every day you have the president's daughter in your studio offering your network her first exclusive interview." She damn near gushed the words.

"Glad to be here," I lied coolly. I wasn't happy to be here, but I was more tired of all the speculation and the constant bombardment on my social media. I was ready to put everything Geneva behind me, and giving this interview would help with that. My story would be out there, in a way that both I and the executive office could agree with.

I'd already had three of the big five book publishers reach out to me about a book deal for my story. I was considering it, depending on how the interview went. But I was hesitant, because I didn't want it getting in the way of my new day job.

She gave me a beaming smile that was just as bright as her white-blond hair. "Right. Well, we go on in ten. Someone will be back for you in eight minutes." With that, she walked out of the room, and the suits followed her after they inspected the room.

"You know you don't have to do this," Diego said as he casually massaged the tension out of my shoulders.

I smiled, because even now he was still looking out for me. Alaska was in our rearview mirror, but his concern for me wasn't. It never would, now that I was going to become his wife.

I still couldn't believe it. I was going to be Veronica Hanes Garcia. It was the perfect start to my post–White House future. My mom was ecstatic for me, excited to get started planning the perfect wedding. And her happiness tripled when I agreed to allow it to happen at the White House, a week before my dad's last day in office. It was the perfect send-off to close that chapter of my life, while also honoring how Diego and I came together in the first place. Of course, the general public had no idea—not yet, anyway.

"Yes, I do. After everything we've been through, we need peace. Trust me, we aren't going to get that until I do this. I'd rather get ahead of this than continue to let everyone's imagination run wild. After this, I'll be able to breathe. Dad will finish out his term, you and I will get married, and we can fade into the background once the new First Family moves in."

I was waiting for the day like a kid waiting for Christmas.

"If you say so." He leaned forward and placed a kiss on my forehead. "I can't wait for you to meet my family." It's all he'd talked about for two days straight. When they called him and asked if they could come to town to visit, his face lit up—as if I'd taken my clothes off and told him to fuck me.

I looked up, and our lips met. His hand traveled from my shoulders down my side, glossing over my ribs. The sensation of my silk shirt rubbing against my bare skin was a turn-on. My hands found his chest, and my fingers spread wide over his pecks.

His hands landed on my ass and gave it a large squeeze, which pulled me flush against him. I felt his erection against my lower belly. It was a good thing that I was the only one who was going to be on camera.

A knock on the dressing room door had me pulling away.

"We're ready for you, Ms. Hanes!"

"I won't be Ms. Hanes for much longer. Wish me luck," I told Diego.

"You don't need it, Mrs. Garcia. You're a badass." He kissed my cheek and then winked. I lifted my head high and straightened my back to slip into a public speaking mindset.

Once through the door, I was led through the backstage area of the studio and waited for the cue to enter the set. Their lead journalist began her introduction, and I did my best to chase my nerves away.

"And now for a very special guest. She's been the buzz of the tabloids for quite a few weeks now. I'm talking about none other than the First Daughter, Veronica Hanes!" The studio audience clapped and cheered. A hand on my back gave me a gentle nudge in the direction of the stage. I held my head high and concentrated on not falling flat in my three-inch stilettos. My white silk blouse and black pants gave me a very professional appearance while still being comfortable and approachable. The idea was to begin to transition me away from the association of the White House. I wanted out of the public eye, and that dissociation began here.

When I got to the chair, I gave the brunette a loose hug and then sat in my designated plush chair. I tried not to sink into it.

"Veronica, may I call you Veronica?" she started.

I nodded. "Yes, of course. Mrs. Hanes is my mom," I answered with a friendly smile.

"Very well. Veronica, I have to start by addressing the elephant in the room. You seemed to disappear off the face of the Earth for a few weeks, and no one would tell us where you were. The Oval Office has been awfully quiet, and our questions aren't answered in the briefing room. Do you have an answer for us now?" She leaned in as if I was about to share the juiciest piece of gossip.

I smiled in response. "I do. It was a known fact that I could be targeted by the Geneva Project, so I took a vacation to try to stay off their radar."

She laughed as if I said the funniest thing in the world. "Where, on the moon? No one reported spotting you for weeks."

It was my turn to laugh. "No, I'll leave space travel to the trained professionals. I went off grid in Alaska."

"Why Alaska?" She paused and leaned in again. Her voice lowered a bit. "I'm sure you're aware of all the rumors, including the one that you were actually captured by that terror group, implying that in fact you aren't Veronica, but a lookalike meant to keep up appearances."

I gave her a somewhat confused expression. I pinched my eyebrows together and pretended to be caught off guard. "A lookalike? Gosh no." I softly shook my head. "I can assure you, I'm very much me. I went to Alaska because it seemed like the best way to get out of the public eye, which was the best way to keep them from finding me." I leaned forward to meet her eagerness. "I'm sure you've heard about the charges being pressed against fifty separate federal employees who were implanted in a number of different government agencies. I was never guaranteed to be safe unless I went where none of them could find me."

She nodded in understanding. "I can only imagine how difficult it would be for you to go so long without being spotted. So your vacation, as you call it—how was it?"

"It was quiet at first, peaceful even, until the end when the Geneva Project did eventually catch up with us. I can't go into the details, but I did escape. With the arrest of the members of the Project, I'm safe, and now I'm just trying to move on with my life."

"You can't go into details," she presses, "or won't?"

"Both. It's an ongoing investigation, and the details are sealed until after the trials are held." There was no arguing with that response, and if she pressed any further, they'd have a very unhappy White House and Department of Justice to deal with.

"I see. So moving on with your life, what does that entail?"

"Trying to sort out what life will look like outside of the White House. My father's term will be up before I know it, and it's time to get my own life in order and be something other than the president's daughter."

"And tell us, did you come up with your new path while fighting to survive?"

I nodded. "I did. I'm not sure if you know this, but I took and passed the bar out of college and law school. I had an unconventional start to practicing law, but I'm going to continue diving right in. I'm happy to announce I will be general counsel for Christine Daniels' foundation that supports victims of kidnapping and trafficking. I'll also be joining Green Oil Industries as one of their attorneys."

The interviewer's mouth popped open in shock. "Those are some pretty prestigious positions."

I nodded again. "Yes, they are. Christine Daniels is a friend of mine, and I'm a big fan of her work. It's an honor to be able to help her in her mission to help others. And Green Oil Industries is well on its way to changing the oil industry. Their goal to sustainably fuel our everyday needs while being mindful of the environment is ahead of its time. They are leading the way to a future I want to be a part of."

"That's fantastic, congratulations." She made a show of leaning forward and putting a warm hand on my arm, as if we were friends. "Speaking of Christine, she's good friends with your rumored bodyguard boyfriend Sergeant Diego Garcia. Did Diego go with you to Alaska?"

I could see where this was headed—she wanted to make something scandalous of us—but I wasn't going to have that. Instead, I'd use it at the perfect opportunity to publicly share our news.

"Well, Margaret, you said it. He's my bodyguard, so of course he came. His military experience made him the perfect travel companion. Do you know how many predators Alaska is home to? But now he's more than just my bodyguard, he's my fiancé." I thrust my hand forward for her to inspect my ring.

"It's absolutely gorgeous. Congratulations, Veronica! Have you two set a date?"

I shook my head. "Not yet. We're just enjoying our time together."

She beamed at the sight of the ring, and a camera zoomed in on my hand for the viewers at home.

"Well, we sure are glad you're back and that you came back with not only a fiancé, but a new life plan. Now we can finally stop asking, Where in the world is Roni Hanes?" She giggled at her own pun and then continued. "Now that you know what's in store for your future, what about your father? Does he have any plans for after he leaves the White House at the end of his term?"

I shook my head lightly as I hit the camera with a smile. Dad and I had rehearsed this question. "No, except maybe a nice vacation on a beach somewhere. The Oval Office isn't necessarily the best place to catch a tan."

"Oh, come on," she pressed playfully. "There has to be something else in the Rolodex for a man as driven as him."

"Even a man as driven as him deserves a break and retirement from public life if that's what he wants. If you want any more details, then maybe you could ask his office to make a statement." My tone was friendly but firm. I wasn't going to give an inch more.

"Well, that's all the time we have before the commercial break. Thank you, Veronica, for coming in and speaking with me. I think I can speak for the country when I say we are glad you're home safe and sound."

"Thank you, glad to be home—and thank you for having me."

The recording light on the camera blinked off, and the interviewer offered me her hand to shake before I was ushered out of the studio.

Diego took my hand, and together we climbed into the blacked-out SUV that my security detail had waiting.

"You okay?" he asked with a smile.

"I'm way more than okay," I told him as I gave him a sincere smile. For the first time in a really long time, I felt at peace. I would have never guessed it would have been because of the boy I couldn't stand.

Now I couldn't stand to think about life without him.