Spoilers through LotTL as of now, rating is T for events in later chapters. Please read and review, I'd really appreciate it. I'm going to try and update chapters regularly, so it'd be great to have some support!

March 24th, 2006

Dear Diary,

For months it's all Mr. Hall has been talking about, and now it's finally here, Harold Saxon's autobiography publication, Kiss Me Kill Me. I was not looking forward to this today, and when I woke up and put the covers over my ears to block out the blaring of my alarm clock. "Wake up," it seemed to taunt, "the publication awaits."

I know that since I've been working in the PR department for years it makes sense that I'd go and help to run the event, especially because Mr. Hall, regardless of being my boss, acts as if he can't wipe his own chin without the aid of three others, but that doesn't mean I was any more eager to go. Finally, at eight o'clock, I forced myself out of bed, put on a nice, professionally looking dress, and struggled to get a brush through my hair.

The whole ordeal was so very routine, ever since I was little. When your father is the Lord of Tarminster you learn how to appear in front of the public at a very young age, and he certainly made every effort to teach us how to behave. Every time we had to appear in public he'd wake me up a half hour earlier than necessary to make sure that I had the appropriate dress, hairstyle, and mannerism. One false slip of the tongue, even as a little girl, and I could've destroyed his reputation permanently, so he taught me what I was supposed to say and do when amongst the public. I must stand by my father's side and look pretty, innocent, and presentable. I would not open my mouth, because I couldn't afford to have an opinion. Occasionally he would nudge me and tell me to look more interested because of how stone faced I forced myself to stay during boring, public addresses, but by the age of fourteen I had basically mastered the charade that goes along with being in the public light.

Yet, I thought I had escaped all that when I got this job in publishing. Sure it was public relations, but I'm good with putting up with people. That was before I learnt that my boss was an idiot and my job entailed organizing the majority of his events, which meant that I would also have to handle the press during these functions. Corralling a group of merciless photographers isn't my idea of a fun day which is why I've been so heartlessly dreading this publication. It was going to be a media circus, and I would need at least three of me to handle them all.

But today was more different than I could've imagined. Today was magical. I can't get ahead of myself though. If I don't write this in the order in which it happened I feel like my thoughts will get too jumbled up in my head and I'll never be able to remember this properly in the future.

As I entered the event building I could already make out the press bombarding everyone with cameras. Even today I really hate my face in the papers, but I knew enough to smile and look as if I was enjoying myself. The press didn't really care about me anyway, I was just the PR staff. Who they really wanted was Harold Saxon who, thankfully, was already inside the building.

As I walked into the signing hall I was happy to see that no press had made it past the double doors. Breathing a sigh of relief, I located Mr. Hall as he chatted up a man I recognized from the world of politics. There were so many of what my father calls "Britain's elite," here, mostly meaning politicians. It was my job to make sure everyone was content, and Mr. Hall made it very clear that he would be the one to talk to Mr. Saxon. I agreed, but I couldn't help but give him some sidelong glances. He seemed honestly bored with the whole ordeal, which amused me. Sure, he knew just like me when to crack a smile and when to look intrigued, but I saw through his disguise as I was sure he saw through mine. When you're so adapted to faking interest you tend to pick up on what others do to improve your facade.

After about ten minutes of this I stood alone towards a corner of the room, sipping on a glass of water and thankful that everything was going according to plan. That was when he approached me and flashed the first genuine smile I saw him give all day.

"Horrible, this PR stuff is, simply horrible," he told me with a chuckle. His voice was soothing, and I felt as though I could trust him. I was so calmed in his presence in fact, that I just had to say what I was actually thinking, not what I was supposed to say. Sure, Mr. Hall didn't want me to talk to Mr. Saxon, but what damage could I actually do? I was the one who organized the entire event after all.

"You could talk," I said with a bit of a laugh, "at least you had a choice. You were the one who went and wrote a book! I'm here because I'm required to be here."

He let out a chuckle and any remaining nerves I had were soothed by his voice. It was almost hypnotic it was so calming.

"Yes, I suppose it is my fault," he said with a smile. "Never could stand the press, and now they've practically invited themselves over for dinner. Although you're not so innocent yourself, I mean, you're in public relations. Why would you thrust yourself in that world if you don't like the public?"

At this point I was very happy talking to him. I always hated politicians and all others who put themselves constantly into the public eye, but Harold Saxon was different. Harold Saxon was special. I felt like I could be myself around him, that I could trust him, and so for the first time in a long time I allowed myself to have an opinion around important strangers.

"Strange thing for a man who's running for Minster of Defense to say," I commented. "You must've known they'd come knocking at your door the second you started doing well." I smiled at my joke and continued. "I'm in public relations because I know how to deal with people, not because I like them. There's a difference, the major one being that I can barely live through these kinds of events."

This time he laughed, giving me a bigger smile and leading me over towards a more empty corner of the room. Even though I was supposed to be working and we were in a sea full of important people, I felt as though we were completely alone with all the time in the world.

"I have to admit I have a similar feeling about this whole unpleasant experience," he said with a sigh, "and I have learnt to ignore the press, or at least attempted to. I'm not going to let a group of reporters who don't know the concept of privacy stop me from running for office. I feel like I can actually make a difference, and I'm not going to let them stop me from achieving that."

I knew he was right. I felt it in from the bottom of my soul. Before today I never wanted anything to do with politics, but seeing this man, so real and down-to-earth, just standing here talking to me when everyone else told me to just be a pretty face, was an incredibly wonderful thing. He gave me hope that politics wasn't all a dirty game full of lies and deceit. I didn't even have time to agree with him before he gave another one of those beautiful genuine smiles and continued talking.

"I assume then you're in charge of everything going on here," he said tilting his head to the side a little.

"Actually no," I admitted, "I'm just assisting. I'm actually not supposed to be talking to you, that's my boss' job, he's right over-"

My words got caught in my throat and my heart sunk as I saw Mr. Hall walking up behind Mr. Saxon, not even attempting to hide how angry he was. With a small nod of his head I moved aside and he took my place in front of the politician.

"I'm sorry Mr. Hall," I muttered, trying to show just how annoyed I was. I knew I wasn't supposed to be talking to Harold Saxon in the first place, but that didn't mean I was going to leave without a fight. He was the first person who'd been nice to me the whole day.

"I'll get to you in a minute," he said under his breath. He then turned away from me and tried to smooth over what he thought was a bad situation.

"I'm terribly sorry for any trouble that might have been caused Mr. Saxon," Mr. Hall said, "see my assistant here-"

"Your assistant here is incredibly charming," Mr. Saxon said, cutting off Mr. Hall without a second thought, "and has been the only one around here to get me to laugh the entire day."

"Oh, well," my boss looked flustered and I couldn't help but smile. Clearly I wasn't as incompetent as he'd like people to believe.

"In fact," Mr. Saxon continued, "I'd love if she'd join me for dinner tomorrow night, that is if you aren't busy."

It took me a second to register what he was saying, and I was no less confused when I realized what had just happened. Did Harold Saxon as me out on a date? It seemed surreal, after all we'd only just met each other, but I couldn't help but give a smile and feel myself blush.

"Su-sure," I stammered, still feeling caught off guard.

"Wonderful, tomorrow night at 7:30? I'll pick you up, here," he reached out his hand and gestured towards my phone. Still blushing slightly I passed it to him and he typed in his number, "text me your address Miss…"

"Cole," I replied, taking the phone back and slipping it in my pocket, "Lucy Cole."

"Well Miss Lucy Cole," he said giving me another grin and looking over his shoulder at the press now starting to file into the room, "I look forward to seeing you, now, if you'll excuse me," and with that he gave a small nod to Mr. Hall and a wink to me before walking towards the press and allowing them to photograph him with his book.

I barely remember anything else that happened during that publication today. Anytime I had a spare moment to myself all I could think about was Harold Saxon. We didn't get a chance to have another proper conversation throughout the rest of the event, but we made eye contact several times and he knew just what kind of comment to mouth or what kind of expression to pull to get me laughing.

When I finally drove myself home I felt as though I should call one of my friends. It seemed like what you were supposed to do in these situations, but I realized that none of them would ever believe me. Not only that, but I almost didn't want to share what happened at that media circus with anyone but Harold Saxon. It seemed like too special a moment to hand out to just anyone. So, instead, I've written it all down here so I can visit it again and again. I don't know how I'm going to sleep tonight or get through the day tomorrow with the anticipation of my dinner with the man himself. I suppose I'll have to try.

- Lucy