“Have you heard from Miranda…?”
“How did she end up working for you…?”
“Is it true you were having immigration problems about your own stay here…?”
“Did you marry him for his money…?”
Media bombarded with questions all around.
Noelle gamely answered, bringing all of them along with her journey. They felt compassion for Miranda, swooned over her initial meeting with Hunter, laughed uproariously about his remark about not knowing how to boil water and her initial suspicion that he was a restaurant spy out to steal her recipes. Noelle took them with her memories of the first dance, their first kiss, the wedding and the honeymoon in Paris. She spared no details. An open book had no secrets.
They lapped up her story like it was their own. Noelle knew that she had finally won over the press to her side. She hoped it was enough to turn the tide for Hunter.
“Mrs. Blackwell! Mrs. Blackwell!” A voice from the back screamed to be heard.
Noelle smiled, thinking it was another journalist with another juicy question for her to answer. She acknowledged the upraised hand at the back, as the horde of reporters parted and made way for their colleague to come forward.
It wasn’t a reporter after all. It was a man wearing a hotel uniform. He eagerly grabbed a mic and asked.
“Mrs. Blackwell, do you know that your husband is on TV at this very moment?”
“What?” Noelle was caught by surprise.
There was a mad scramble from those present in search for the TV remote. A flurry of hands passed along a narrow object until it reached one nearest the flat screen. A click, then it came to life and revealed Hunter’s face. But it was the tail end of his statement everyone heard.
“…So it is with a heavy heart and after much soul-searching, I am declaring my withdrawal from this campaign. My wife has suffered tremendously over the negative publicity that has hounded us for the last few weeks. It has driven a wedge between us. I have come to a decision that she is the most important person in the world to me. Success is meaningless without her by my side. I love you, Noelle. Please come home.”
Noelle felt tears well up in her eyes and felt all her love for Hunter in that single moment. She knew that he was the one for her. “Where is he?” she asked tremulously.
"I believe he's in the penthouse suite of this hotel. I encountered the camera crew that recorded…" The man in the hotel uniform replied.
Noelle didn’t wait to hear the rest of his account. She rushed out, followed by a procession of reporters with cameras still rolling. There was a chaotic sprint for elevators to ferry them to the penthouse.
Noelle was stunned at the coincidence. This had to be fate playing a hand, sparing her from a curve ball and tossing a straight one in her direction. It could have ended as a cruel joke. But it wasn’t. Hunter just announced on national television that he loved her… HE LOVED HER.
Noelle found herself gently pulled by the arm. It turned out to be the man in uniform who admitted he was a bellhop who worked at The Westin.
“He’s in there,” he announced excitedly, pointing to a closed door.
Noelle pushed the door open, without bothering to knock. Hunter instantly looked at her and their eyes met for a second. The second that felt like an eternity and in that moment they had communicated all that was to be said soon after.
“Noelle?” Hunter exclaimed in surprise. “What are you doing…?”
Noelle rushed to him and said, “Oh, you crazy, crazy man. Why did you do that?’
She fell into his arms and sobbed as the whole world witnessed the look of tenderness that shone brightly in her husband’s eyes.
Chapter 16
Somewhere in the heart of the ‘hood, a young boy of fourteen powered up his Mac. It was an expensive gift from the man who was running for senator. The man talked about his dreams for the youth of America. They even had their picture taken together. It came out in the newspaper.
Elijah Jackson was one of the many boys from the Bronx who loved basketball and played the trumpet like a pro. But Elijah was a difficult child, prone to temper tantrums. He consistently performed badly in school, to his mom’s disappointment. She was a waitress and lived in a rundown apartment with Elijah. Both mother and son were in constant battle over the idea of going to school.
A guidance counselor suggested that Elijah should be tested to understand his dislike for school. Maybe he had to be brought down to a lower level because he couldn’t cope. They were all staggered by the results. Elijah had an IQ of 140. He was bored with school because it didn’t give him the challenge his brain needed.
Hunter heard about Elijah’s story when he came to visit. He sought out Elijah’s mom and promised to send the boy to a school that catered to children with special abilities.
Elijah and his mom were one of the thousands who stayed glued to the television as Noelle and Hunter's story unfolded in their living room.
“Such a waste,” Mom murmured. “He would have made a great senator.”
“Yeah,” Elijah agreed.
In his room with the Mac screen glowing in the dark, Elijah began to work. His fingers flew deftly over the keys. Satisfied at what he had done, he uploaded it to Facebook and tagged a few of his friends. His friends read the message and, moved by Elijah’s story, shared it with their friends. Their friends read it and passed it on to brothers, sisters, uncles, aunties, nephews and nieces too.
Elijah created a Petition to convince Hunter Blackwell to continue his run for the Senate seat.
In less than an hour, the petition had been liked and shared and had over a hundred thousand signatures. In twenty-four hours it had gone viral. It was like a forest fire that refused to die down, triggering an avalanche of viral sharing never seen before in the digital world.
After forty-eight hours, Elijah knew that he had something. He asked his mom for bus fare and headed straight to the sixty-storey structure of steel and glass with an iconic courtyard. He asked directions to Mr. Blackwell’s office and was told where to go.
He was met by a fierce looking woman. When he told her what he had done, the woman gaped at him in surprise before squeezing the air out of his lungs in a giant bear hug.
Chapter 17
Noelle lay sprawled in bed. Every fiber in her body was still humming from the last orgasm. Make-up sex was always the best.
Hunter gathered her in his arms and kissed the top of her head.
“Was that good for you?” He teased her.
“Mmmmm, just as good as hearing you say you love me on national TV.”
Hunter did not reply, instead he reached for her chin, raised her face to his, and kissed her tenderly.
“Why did you do it, Hunter?”
He didn’t need to be told what she was referring to.
“Because I realized after you left that nothing was worth it if I lost you. You mean everything to me, Noelle – more than my ambition, more than my life. All these mean nothing if I don’t have you by my side.”
Noelle felt like she had died and gone to heaven. It was all too good to be true. She hoped that if this was a dream, she never wanted to wake up.
Suddenly, Hunter crouched down beside her and placed his ear on her tummy.
“Do you think he or she can hear me?” he asked.
Wonder and adoration suffused his face. The same look he got when she told him that she was carrying his baby. He was hesitant to make love, thinking he might hurt the baby. It took Noelle guile and cunning to get him to bed. The bedroom had been their haven for the last two days, their own little world, where the only thing that mattered was him and her.
“I really don’t think anything the size of a peanut would even have ears yet,” Noelle replied.
“But I can hear the baby talking,” he insisted.
"That's only me. My tummy is grumbling because I'm hungry again." Noelle grimaced.
Hunted clambered up and headed for the house phone.
“I’ll ask the chef to whip up…”
He never finished the sentence. The door was flung open unceremoniously.
“FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, WOMAN! DON’T YOU EVER REALLY KNOCK?” A series of profanities followed as Hunter scrambled to the bathroom to hide his naked body.
Lisa flicked a wrist in his direction dismissively
“Go find something to hide your bushwhacker and come here. Something great just happened.”
Noelle giggled as she twisted and grabbed a sheet to cover herself.
Hunter emerged from the bathroom with a scowl.
Lisa had bundles of paper in her hand.
“What are these?” Hunter asked darkly, mortification written all over his face.
“Your ticket to the senate,” Lisa answered simply before recounting the whole story
Noelle and Hunter listened with amazement. It was unbelievable.
“How did this happen?” Hunter muttered after a few seconds of stunned silence. “But I said I wasn’t running anymore.”
“Hunter, there’s over 8 million signatures in this petition. That represents two-thirds of the entire population of New York City,” Noelle announced going through the pages.
Indecision was still written on Hunter’s face.
“Noelle and I will talk about it,” he finally declared to Lisa.
Before Lisa exited the door she looked back at him and remarked, “This is all you ever wanted. You’d be an idiot not to heed the people’s call.”
Lisa smiled. She knew him better than he knew himself. She knew that he would make the right decision.
EPILOGUE
The Gulfstream touched down on the asphalt runway, sending small particles of stone flying away from its path.
Inside the air-conditioned waiting room, Noelle watched the plane’s progress as it came to a halt at the end of the runway, before making a 90-degree turn and headed towards the hub.
Earlier, a motley group of reporters spotted their arrival and followed them inside, curious about their presence at the airport.
“Senator Blackwell, are you expecting someone important? That’s your private airplane isn’t it?”
Noelle cocked an ear for Hunter’s reply. She too was in the dark on why he asked her to come. She thought, just like the reporter did, that it was for an important dignitary. But she immediately recognized the private plane when it came in for a landing.
“Guys, guys really,” Hunter replied, palms out, warding them off. "It's no one important. You're wasting your time. But if you hurry on to the next terminal, I think that was Kim Kardashian's limo right behind mine."
The reporters looked at one another and made a mad rush outside.
Hunter joined Noelle and placed an arm around her waist. She glanced at him and read the poker face.
“You jerk!” she tittered, “sending those men on a wild goose chase.”
“It was the only way they’d leave us alone.” Hunter quipped.
"Uh-huh. But mind telling me who we're meeting exactly? You've been acting weird since this morning."
“You’ll see,” he replied mysteriously.
The nose of the jet was only a few meters away from the glass window where they stood. Noelle heard that whiny metallic sound before its engine was turned off.
In the silence that followed, Noelle glanced up at her husband. There was something on her mind and now was a good time as any to ask.
“What do you think happened to Diggs? I never heard from him again.”
Hunter grimaced, liked she brought up some bad news. Then he exhaled loudly and replied, “I think he was wise enough to look for the deepest, darkest hole he could find after I got elected senator.”
Noelle felt intense relief. She doubted Diggs would show his face around her ever again. Not with a powerful man in office to protect her. She reached for his hand and squeezed, telling him she understood.
Hunter guided her towards a small doorway that led to the tarmac. They walked a few meters and stood at the foot of the jet.
Noelle looked up curiously. She still didn’t have a clue.
The door opened with an audible hissing sound.
A woman’s silhouette came into view. She wore a loose-fitting blouse with a V-shaped neckline and long sleeves. The white blouse ended lower than the waistline. A long wrap-around skirt with birds-of-paradise patterns was enhanced with a rectangular piece of cloth wrapped around the waist and hips and tucked in at the end. Her hair was encased in a headdress that bore the same color pattern as the skirt.
She looked uncertain as she stood there by the door. It was Noelle’s cry that got her attention.
“Miranda!”
Miranda came running down the steps and straight into Noelle’s arms. They hugged each other, never wanting to let go. Tears streamed down both of their faces as they gibbered at the same time.
Noelle knew this was all because of Hunter. He must have searched for Miranda in Nigeria, arranged for her papers and brought her back home to Noelle. Now, her family was complete.
Holding on to Miranda’s hand, she turned to him with tears of happiness flowing down her face. She leaned in close and kissed his cheek.
“Thank you,” she murmured into his ear.
“I love you, Noelle, and I will do anything to make you happy.” Hunter whispered back, as he held her close to him.
*****
THE END
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Single Daddy's Valentine: (A Small Town Fake Fiancee Romance) Page 39