“I see. But you only get one term as governor. Where do you go after that but the oval office?” I laugh.
He doesn’t. “Between you and me, Kwame. I'm beginning to explore the possibility of running for president.”
My eyes bug out of my head. “Wow. I didn’t know you had that ambition.”
“I didn’t know it either. It’s been floated by the party. Donors like your father are ready to open their checkbooks.”
I bet he is.
“Well, you’d have my support. It would be historic—the Guyanese American President.”
“Why not? America seems to be in a history making mood.”
I ponder it. He’s right. Two years ago, the voters chose a radical path forward and now, a woman whose grandparents were enslaved and toiled to build the White House sits behind the Resolute Desk. The country could be ready for a man whose parents came here with empty pockets and built a dynasty in a single generation-.
“I know how to make something out of nothing and I love this country. We have our first woman behind the Resolute Desk. It’s past time we have a first gen member of the global majority representing the most prosperous country in the world.” His voice is like steel and yet full of passion. It’s not surprising he won his election by a landslide. “It would be greatest honor of my life to lead a country that gave my parents refuge and opportunity.”
Not for the first time in my life, I wish he’d been my dad. “I don’t understand my father’s loathing of the only place on earth where this story is even possible.”
“He doesn’t loathe America. He just wants it to bend to his will and hates that it won’t.”
“That’s even worse,” I say dryly.
He chuckles. “Listen, your father is who he is. He’s not going to change. You should stop expecting things you know he’s not capable of and you’ll see him more clearly.”
“I see him just fine. I just wish he’d see me too, and that me making this choice won’t lead to World War III and another decade of estrangement.”
“You know that the sky can only support one sun, right?”
Gooseflesh blooms on my scalp and runs down my back. “My mom used to say that all the time. Did she say it to you, too?”
“She must have. And she’s right. I admire your father and think he’s a very smart man, but he doesn’t know what’s best for you. And don’t let your desire to march to your own drum keep you from pursuing something that could be good for you.”
“What do you mean?’
“There’s going to be a vacant Senate seat that I’ll have the power to fill. You’ve got a lot of options, and a lot of talents. But I think you’d be the perfect appointment. Seriously.”
The thought excites and repulses me all at once. “Thank you foryour faith in me, but it’s just not for me.”
“You’ve got six months to decide. Never say never. Anything can happen.”
I glance around my office with a view that stretches all the way to the Jefferson Memorial.
It’s gorgeous, but I’d rather be in a windowless office doing work that’s important to me and makes me want to get out of bed in the morning instead of dreading work like I do now.
I start work on my application for the State’s Attorney. These are highly sought after and coveted jobs. I’m in for a rigorous months-long interview process. As stressful and competitive as that will be, it’ll make telling my father what I’ve decided look like a cake walk.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Sin
Rematch
A few months ago, Sofia was still someone I was excited to know. This all-hands meeting would have been the highlight of my year. Instead, I’m watching the clock with bated breath and have only spoken to her in greeting.
My phone buzzes and I glance around the room at my colleagues who are sitting around the same conference table.
It buzzes again and I know it’s Kwame. I shouldn’t, but I need something sweet to help me survive the rest of this daylong seminar.
