Madam President (EDITING)

Chapter 24: Hangovers, Realizations, and Rage

Rachel's POV

I wake up to Avery's alarm going off on full blast. I sit up in her bed and immediately rub my head, "Oh fuck."

She turns it off and leans over to kiss me on the cheek. "How are you feeling?", she says running her fingers through her hair.

"Like Ronda Rousey beat my ass."

"You did go pretty hard last night."

"Yeah I don't remember anything that happened after riding the mechanical bull", I say shielding my eyes from the light.

"So you don't remember our Uber drive back here?", Avery asks.

"God no. I was just going to ask you how we got here."

"Oh", she says getting up to pick out her outfit for the day.

"Should I?"

"No", she says going in to the bathroom. "Get up we're going to be late."

"I'll drive myself, I have to make a stop. No way I survive this day without aspirin and caffeine."

After locking up I go to my car and remember the gift that's sitting in my passenger seat.

I untie the ribbon and find a card inside the bag.

"Rachel-

Happiest of birthdays to you. I wish you a year of growth, prosperity, and wisdom. This book is something that helped me realize my full potential, hopefully it helps you realize yours. Enjoy and let me know what you think.

Warmly, Jennifer Abner"

I smile as I look the book over, It was a nice gesture. 

I walk in the building coffee in hand, and press my designated floor in the elevator. All of a sudden I hear someone shout out "hold the elevator please".

I rush to stick hand out as I hear heels clicking on the marble floor. The first thing I notice are the woman's legs that step into flat, and then I recognize the voice when she says thank you. 

"No problem Senator", I say looking in her direction.

She looks at her watch and then back straight to face the door, "You're late and you look like hell. A little too much partying last night?", she questions.

"Just a little", I mutter. "Are you going to write me up?"

"Seeing as it was your birthday, I think I can let it slide this time."

"Thank you."

She nods her head, "So how old did you turn?"

"Twenty-two", I respond.

"Trust me your hangovers now are nothing compared to what you're going to feel in a few years", she says snickering. She looks over at me, "What is that contraption in your hand?"

"My favorite coffee", I reply looking appalled at her judgement.

"More like diabetes in a cup."

"I like to think it's more like cocaine in a cup, but it's awfully delicious", I say taking a sip.

She shakes her head at my comment, "I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that", she says as she steps out of elevator.