Naples, Florida

The coastal city was famous for its gorgeous sunsets, with the sun sinking into the Gulf of Mexico in a vivid mixture of orange, yellow, red and pink. That was one of the reasons Emily Rhodes was standing on the balcony of her hotel room, a glass of wine in her hand. The beach in front of her was full of people, their now darkening forms revealing couples, friends and families. Her eyes began to sting once more, the tears no longer a one-time lapse but more like an essential part of her now. It had been two months since her mom's death. She'd seen the strong woman who raised her wilt away, become nothing more but a mere shadow of herself. Now she was gone forever. They'd never walk on the beach together the way they had when Emily was a child, collecting seashells, listening to the roar of the waves. A few weeks ago she'd sprinkled her mother's ashes in the Gulf Stream. She liked to believe that her mom was free now.

The biggest loss of Emily's life wasn't the only matter bothering her. The man who had been her boss for years had changed, turned out to be someone she barely recognized. He'd been like a surrogate father to her, she'd trusted him. Things would never be the same again, and she didn't mean that in a good way. She'd never look at him the same way again. And now she was lonely and unemployed. It wasn't that nobody had offered her another job, but she hadn't ran into the right offer yet. What did she even want to do with her life? She felt like her next move would be the turning point and set the direction for the rest of her life. It wasn't an easy decision to make.

Then there was the matter of her best friend, who she tried not to think about. The soon-to-be Vice President of the United States. Aaron Shore. If someone had suggested this was where he'd be three or four years ago, she'd have laughed in their face. Now it was one of the few things in her world that made sense. If only things between them were less complicated. He'd tried calling her, and at first she'd answered. All calls had gone the same way: he'd wanted to know how she was, and she'd assured him that she was doing fine and that he should focus on the upcoming inauguration. She'd eventually stopped answering, and he'd stopped calling, turning into texts instead.

When you want to talk about it, I'm here.

What was the point, though? Her chances of seeing him again in person anytime soon were low, and she missed him. It was pain she didn't need or want. The pain of longing mixed with her grief and disappointment in Kirkman, leaving her worn out and reaching for a drink more often than was necessary. She'd entertained the thought that he could be lonely, too. Isabel and him really were through. Funnily enough, she was apparently pregnant with Seth's baby. At first she'd asked Seth about it, but had then interrupted her friend and told him that she didn't want to know after all. She still didn't know whether to laugh or cry over the news, but she'd settled on loathing herself for being relieved the baby wasn't Aaron's. What was wrong with her? You wanted the best for your friends, for them to be happy, and yet she'd never been able to truly support his relationship with Isabel.

Against all common sense, she wondered if Aaron still missed Isabel, if he wanted her back. She hated herself for hurting her and for playing a part in their breakup, but what she felt even more guilty about was the fact that if Aaron hadn't been in a relationship, she wouldn't have regretted anything that took place that night. When you took something you had no right to, you couldn't keep any of it, not even the memories. Or you shouldn't. She'd cheated, not only that night, but every single day ever since. She'd kept a memory. The kiss, which she may have started, but for reasons she wasn't sure of, he'd responded. She'd even had to push him away. It had been full of emotion, even more than their first one. A trail of failed relationships followed in her wake, and then there was Aaron, with whom there had never been a relationship at all, yet he was the one who meant the most. It was a paradox she was sure a therapist would've had a field day with, but Emily herself wasn't interested in any in-depth analysis.

Her phone buzzed to signal the arrival of a text message.

Can I call you? It's about a job offer.

She drew in a quick breath, adrenaline releasing into her system. A job offer. From Aaron. Squeezing her eyes shut, she struggled with herself. Staying away from Aaron was paramount for many reasons, and was politics really good for her anyway? Unfortunately the person offering the job was currently probably the only one she had serious issues telling 'no' to.

Hit me up.

Her phone rang within a minute, and for the first time since November, she picked up Aaron's call.

"Hi," she said.

"Hey, Em. How are you?" His deep voice still had an undesirable effect on her, making her want to tell him she'd missed him. That she was in a rut with no way out.

"Holding on," She replied with a sigh, not wanting to lie.

"I hope you'll hear me out and come home. It's been too long."

"Aaron-"

"I know you needed this, it's just that... Uh, I'm calling for purely selfish reasons."

Emily raised a brow. "A job offer for selfish reasons? Do tell."

"I've been holding off on hiring a chief of staff. Everyone's been telling me to do that since we won, but I haven't. Because there's only one person I want to see in that position, but I'm not sure if she'd agree to take it."

"She might have reservations, yes." She found herself smiling into the phone despite herself.

"In that case I'll drop the personal angle and say that your country needs you, Emily Rhodes, to be the vice president's right hand."

Emily wanted to say yes. The position could be seen as a demotion, considering that she'd once served the president himself as his chief of staff, but that hardly mattered. After everything, she could no longer see herself working for Kirkman, quite possibly ever. Aaron, on the other hand? He had remained the man she'd known him to be throughout the brutal campaign. Nevertheless, if her experience with Kirkman had taught her anything, it was that every human being had the potential to disappoint you in many heartbreaking ways.

"Do you need to think about it?"

"Yeah, that's be great. But I'm guessing you can't give me much time," she sighed. It would be infinitely better to sleep on this before giving him an answer.

He sighed back. "You'd be right about that. Look, if it makes you feel more comfortable, we could sign a temporary contract. For like a year, maybe? You could walk away after that, no hard feelings, I swear."

Could that be the solution? A year, and then she would be out, no matter what took place. Of course, if she messed up, she would be out much sooner, but she felt strangely confident about this. She understood Aaron, and he understood her, at least when it came to work.

"Okay," she found herself answering.

"You'll be my chief of staff?"

"Yes, Aaron. I'll get online and book tickets to D.C as soon as we end this call."

"Thank you, Em. You won't regret this, I promise. How much time do you need?"

"I'll see you tomorrow."

"That's my chief of staff right there. Let's get to work. Welcome aboard."