Lucera

Untitled Part 2

2

The morning droned on without incident and Lucera found herself checking the time every other minute, as she anxiously awaited her lunch period. Tucked away in her own little cosy office adjacent to the president's speech writer, she painstakingly applied the final touches to the transcript from the audio recording provided, courtesy Mr. Mitchel, the Communications advisor to His excellency, of the hours-before credentials ceremony. As she brought up the Microsoft file menu and selected the print option, she pondered the blessing of landing a job she would have never chosen out for herself.

She was fresh out of college, having graduated with First Honour's, one of the first disabled person of her generation to excel at the tertiary level of education. As such, the local paper and news networks wanted to accessorize her success, and this caught the attention of the Office of the President which was about to open a private internship program with the aim to provide job opportunities for young person's seeking employment. The present's private secretary got in contact with her family the day her story made front page of the Express, Guardian, and Newsday, stating that the president requested a private audience. When she met His Excellency for the first time, she instantly took a liking to his charismatic and vibrant heir. She felt the feeling was mutual. After all, he hired her on as his personal transcriptionist and even invited her to several of his public appearances as part of his entourage. And wasn't it her luck that Gabe got wind of the same internship program and later signed on as an assistant to the president's communications advisor. An urgent knocking on the dark oak door brought the young woman out of her musings, and she rose Brusly to her feet, as the door swung inward.

"Ms. Montgomery," Aide-the-camp sergeant Kadeem Cooper greeted coolly.

"Ah, yes, I have His Excellency's transcript ready for him."

"Very good ma'am," the sergeant replied and paused before continuing, "but this concerns the First Lady."

"Oh?"

Lucera schooled her features into a mask of neutrality. Though she was undisputedly fond of the president, she had never warmed up to his glamorous wife, for her outward charm was about the only becoming quality about her. Lucera had always felt Her Excellency to be hostile particularly towards her, lacking any kind of sympathy for her condition—not that she required it.

"I am to escort you towards her office forthwith," the sergeant informed.

A tight-lipped smile marring her presumed neutral expression, she stiffly handed off the printed material to the aide-de-camp and reached for her walking stick propped up against the mahogany rectangular-topped desk.

Gently gripping the edge of the sergeant's elbow where the bone was the sharpest, she allowed him to escort her down a series of corridors and across a manicured lawn towards the isolated presidential home. She could feel the shift in location as her heels were transferred from marble concrete pass lush greenery onto plush carpet.

"Sir," a uniformed soldier greeted as he got the door. "Ma'am."

A cold draft breezed over Lucera from the air-conditioning indoors, causing her to shiver a little. She should have brought along a coat. She forgot how terribly blizzard-like this place could be. They stepped into a spacious waiting area, and the sergeant seated her on what was probably the softest, silkiest cushion known to man before he bade her farewell.

"I will get these to His Excellency straightaway, ma'am," he said. "Her Excellency should be along shortly."

Lucera nodded in his general direction and nervously began fiddling with her nails. Seconds later he was gone and she was alone. She shut her eyes and took a moment to engage her heavenly father in conversation.