by Nic Tatano
She reaches across the table and pats my hand. “Patience, dear friend. “I’m sure he’s worth waiting for.”
***
When we get back I notice two very attractive young brunettes in the Senator’s office, sitting opposite his desk. They’re maybe late teens, early twenties. The door is open, Becker spots me and waves me in. I walk into his office, turn and smile at the two girls.
“Cassidy, meet my daughters Kristin and Laurie.”
“Hi guys,” I say, as I lean over and shake hands with both. Anyone could tell they’re sisters, and both look like their dad. Caps of straight chestnut hair, big green eyes, medium height, slender like their mom.
“Can’t believe you hired Twitter Girl, Dad,” says Kristin, turning to her father. “Very cool.”
“So I’m cool, huh?” I ask.
“In our college you are,” says Laurie. “You rule.”
“You guys home for spring break?”
“They’re back for the day to shoot a commercial with me,” says Becker, who suddenly looks out into the headquarters. “Hey, Frank needs me. You two wait here, we’ll be ready to go in a few minutes.”
Becker leaves so I figure this will be a good opportunity for me to get to know the family. “So, where do you two go to school?”
“Francis College in Pennsylvania,” says Laurie. “Outside of Philly.”
“Don’t feel bad if you’ve never heard of it,” says Kristin. “No one has. It’s a really small school and a good place to hide if your father is running for president.”
“I would imagine,” I say. “What are you studying?”
“I want to go into advertising,” says Laurie. “Commercial production. So this is a good learning experience for me.”
“Well, you need to get to know my friend Ripley.” I point at her through the window. “She’s the supermodel talking to Tyler. Owns her own agency.” I turn to Kristin. “And what do you wanna be when you grow up?”
“I don’t wanna grow up,” she says. “But when I graduate I’d like to do what you do.”
“Be sarcastic on Twitter? Not sure you’ll find a whole lotta openings.”
“No, be a reporter.”
“I’m not a reporter anymore.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to bring that up.”
I wave my hand. “No big deal. Life goes on and this campaign is a blast. You do realize it’s going to be twice as hard for you, right?”
“I would think my last name would open a lot of doors.”
“It will also bring a lot of jealousy if you don’t pay your dues. That’s one of the reasons all the reporters at Jon Hanley’s network hate him. He started at the top because of his father.”
“So I should start small and work my way up?”
I nod. “Exactly. So why do you want to go into journalism? And please don’t say I’ve always wanted to be on television.”
“I always liked solving puzzles, treasure hunts. I guess the search for the truth is like that. I’m already writing for the school newspaper and I really enjoy it. And I’d like to make the world a better place.”
“You could do that working for your dad.”
Her smile fades and she shakes her head. “Ugh. No way. I hate politics.”
“We both do,” says her sister. “Of course, you can’t tell anyone or Frank will wish you into the cornfield.”
“Listen,” says Kristin, “could we maybe go to lunch when I’m home for spring break? I’d love to pick your brain.”
“Absolutely. And Laurie, I’ll set something up with Ripley for you.”
Becker sticks his head in the door. “Okay girls, off we go.”
They both stand up and grab their coats. “It was nice meeting you, Ms. Shea,” says Kristin.
“Really,” says Laurie.
“My pleasure, and call me Cassidy.”
They nod and head out into the headquarters, heads down, wearing looks like they’re headed to the dentist.
They may look like their father, but they obviously take after their mother.
***
I slide into Tyler’s car on Sunday afternoon and thankfully it’s already toasty warm. “We are gonna freeze our asses off at this game.”
“No we’re not. Didn’t I tell you we’re in a luxury box this time?”
“No, how did you swing that?”
“Friends in high places.”
“Well, while I really enjoy sitting out with the real fans, I’m certainly not going to complain in this cold.”
“You’ll enjoy it. Beats sneaking a snack in your parka.”
An hour later Tyler flashes his passes at a security guard and leads me into the luxury suite. My jaw drops as I take in the accommodations, which look like something for a high roller in Vegas. We’re on the fifty yard line, and the huge floor-to-ceiling window offers a terrific view of the field as the Giants warm up. Three large flat screens hang from the ceiling, a bartender in a tuxedo shirt and red bow tie is behind the bar, and steam is rising from what looks like an incredible hot buffet. A sharply dressed young lady takes our coats and Tyler leads us down to a couple of plush blue reclining chairs in front of the window.
“So this is how the other half lives,” I say, as I melt into the chair which features the Giants famous lowercase ny logo on the headrest.
“Yeah, pretty nice huh?”
“Nice doesn’t even begin to describe it. Are we the only ones here?”
“Nah, we’re early. There will be about twenty people here by kickoff. May I take your drink order, young lady?”
“Why thank you, sir. I’ll start by warming up with some Irish coffee. Light on the coffee.”
“Coming right up. And I’ll bring you a sampler from the buffet, unless you wanna check it out yourself.”
“A variety sounds good. Bring it on.”
Tyler heads up the steps as I look around the suite. I see a tall, hot blonde enter the room, smile at Tyler and give him a hug. He gestures toward me and she heads in my direction.
If this is the woman who was at his home when I called the other night, Tyler’s doing okay for himself. The woman is a classic beauty built like Ripley; slender but stacked, high cheekbones, ice blue eyes, honey hair to her shoulders. She hits the bottom step and turns to face me, eyes narrowed a bit, arms folded. “So, this is the girl who’s on the phone with Tyler all the time.”
My shoulders tense up. Uh-oh. “Yeah, but we’re just friends—”
She suddenly offers a warm smile and a handshake. “I’m Rachel, his sister-in-law. I was at his house the other night when you called.”
I relax. “Oh, I thought you were his girlfriend.”
“No, unfortunately we haven’t found that someone special for him yet. But I’m always on the hunt.”
“I’m Cassidy, by the way.”
“I know. You’re all I heard about the other night. Cassidy this, Cassidy that. Cassidy’s so smart and witty. Cassidy’s so tall and pretty.”
“He called me Cassidy?”
She shrugs. “Sure, that’s your name, right?”
“Yeah, but at the campaign he calls me T.G. for Twitter Girl.”
“Oh yeah, his nickname thing. Now that you mention it, I don’t think I’ve ever heard him call anyone by a real name. He calls me Sil.”
“Sil? How do you get Sil from Rachel?”
“Sister-in-law. S-I-L. Anyway, he’s just thrilled he found someone who likes to talk as much as he does.”
“Yeah, I guess we both never shut up.” I look around and don’t see anyone else in the room. “Your husband with you?”
She shakes her head. “He’s in Florida. I’m jealous cause he’s warm and he’s jealous cause I’m at the game.”
Tyler returns carrying a huge tray of hot goodies and a cup of Irish coffee. “You two getting acquainted?”
“Yeah, I like her,” says Rachel. “Gets me off the phone with you for at least a few hours a week.” She wraps an arm around his shoulder and k
isses him on the cheek. “He knows I love him, Cassidy.” I hear some voices and turn to see more people entering. “Well, gotta go say hello. Nice meeting you, Twitter Girl.”
“You too, Rachel.”
Tyler places the tray on a small table in front of us. The dish is filled with bacon wrapped shrimp, little quiches, escargot in garlic butter, assorted cheeses and two small cups of steaming lobster bisque. “Wow, this looks terrific, Tyler. Thanks.” I grab a toothpick with a huge shrimp and take a bite. “Oh my, that’s wonderful.”
“Beats the hell out of a hot dog and beer, huh?”
“No kidding.” (Ripley would kill me if she saw this. Wonder if there’s any pate’?)
“So, that was your sister-in-law keeping you company the other night.”
“Yeah, she comes over for dinner a lot when her husband’s out of town. Or just to watch TV. We get along great. My brother sure picked a good one.”
“She seems really nice.” I grab the Irish coffee, take a sip and lean back. “So, she mentioned she was looking for someone special for you. Is there a nice girl who’s not your sister-in-law that comes by for dinner?”
“Well, this smoking hot redhead dropped by with a pizza the other night.”
I playfully slap his arm. “I mean are you seeing anyone? Isn’t there a nice girl in your life?”
“Not right now. I’m kinda particular and there has to be a woman who understands my situation.”
I reach over and gently take his forearm. “There’s no situation with you Tyler. You’re terrific.”
He turns and stares straight ahead, the smile disappears. “Yeah. I keep hearing that.”
***
Four hours later we’re cruising home fat and happy after the Giants overtime win which puts them in the Super Bowl. I lean back and pat my stomach. “Damn, Tyler, I ate too much. I’m warning you, if the button on my jeans goes it could take out your windshield.”
“Yeah, I’m stuffed too.” He shoots me a look as we crawl through traffic toward the toll booth. “Honestly, I don’t know where you put it.”
“I’ve always had a huge appetite and never gain weight. When I was a kid I used to say I’m a growing girl but that excuse didn’t work when I hit six feet. But I still use the line out of habit.”
“Wow, you’re six feet tall? I thought you were five-eight and wore platforms all the time.”
“Smart ass.”
“Seriously, you wear your height very well. A lot of really tall girls look, I don’t know, gawky. And they hunch over or wear flats to minimize their height. But you look great. You could model.”
“Yeah, right. But thank you for the compliment, Tyler. You’re always so sweet to me.”
He gives me a devilish sideways glance. “Of course it’s good that you’re so tall since you eat like a horse.”
Now I slap him on the arm. “Hey! That snark burns a lot of calories.”
“I’m just yankin’ your chain, T.G. Seriously, nothing is worse than buying a girl an expensive dinner and having her only eat half of it. Anyway, I’m glad you enjoyed the food. By the way, we’ll be having a Super Bowl party at the headquarters now that the Giants are in, so hope you’ll come by.”
“Sounds like fun. Will there be food?”
“Not as good as what you just had, but of course.”
“So Becker won’t be going to California for the game?”
“I’m sure he would if it weren’t an election year.” We get through the toll and the traffic starts to lighten up.
“Speaking of Becker, I met his daughters the other day.”
“Yeah, nice girls. Always enjoy when they come by.”
“They told me they both hate politics.”
“Uh-huh. That’s a tightly guarded secret. They’re really shy, like their mom. It hit them real hard when she died. She home-schooled them, you know, so they were with her constantly. They went from the ultimate stay-at-home mom to one parent who’s on the New York to DC shuttle a lot. It’s been a tough adjustment. I think going off to college is helping, though.”
“So will they be on the campaign when school’s out?”
“That’s a sore spot with them. Frank wants them but they’re resisting.”
“Do they even want their father to be President?”
“Honestly, T.G. I don’t know. But I do know one thing. If he does get to the White House, they’ll see even less of him than they do now.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
@TwitterGirl
In warm, sunny Florida for the latest debate… hot air provided by President Turner.
About six staff members fill the living room of the secluded beach front condo as a warm evening breeze blows through the patio door from the Atlantic. I let the salt air fill my lungs as I listen to the strategy session for tomorrow’s debate. Becker decided we all needed to come down a day early to do some campaigning and give his senior staff a break from the frigid polar vortex that has a hammerlock on the Northeast. (Global warming, my ass. If you see Al Gore, hit him with a snowball.)
Becker gives me a look and a quick smile from across the room which distracts me from whomever is talking, as voices become audio wallpaper.
A half hour later the meeting starts to break up, with staffers heading back to their respective condos. (No connecting room this time.) Becker will be off to make an appearance at a classical concert in an hour and needs to put on a tux. I grab my purse to leave but Becker places his hand lightly on my forearm and says, loud enough for everyone to hear, “Cassidy, stick around for a minute. Wanted to go over some stuff with you before I go.”
Frank shoots me a wink as he heads out, leaving me alone with Becker.
“Don’t you need to get ready?” I ask.
“I’m a quick dresser,” he says. “I left you in a hurry back in New Hampshire and I wanted a little alone time with you. I’ve got a few minutes.”
“Well, okay, if you twist my arm.”
“A shame to waste the view in this place, don’t you think?” He moves toward the patio door and looks out at the water. “Don’t you just love the ocean?”
I follow and stand next to him. “Yeah. Little different than Staten Island. It’s so quiet here, only the sound of the waves. And the water’s not frozen.”
He turns to look at me. “By the way, my daughters both like you. They think it’s cool that Twitter Girl is on the campaign.”
“Well, that’s nice to hear. They seem like nice normal girls. Did you tell them that we—”
“No,” he says quickly, shaking his head. “They still miss their mother too much. And seeing me with someone else… not sure they’re ready for that. Another reason for keeping this discreet. Actually, as far as I’m concerned that’s the main reason, despite what Frank says.”
“Sure. I understand completely.”
He reaches one arm out and snakes it gently around my waist, sending my pulse up like a rocket. “Now, where were we when I was so rudely interrupted?”
***
My cell jolts me out of a wonderful deep sleep. I crack one eye open and see it’s a few minutes after six, and a quick look at the phone tells me Ripley’s calling. I answer it. “For a cranky morning greeting, press one.”
Beep. “Sorry, did I wake you?”
“No, I had to get up anyway to answer the phone. Do you know what time it is?”
“Sorry, this was important. Fire up your laptop and look at the front page of The Post.”
“Can’t this wait? I don’t have to be out till ten and I’m only in my second dream.”
“No. Now.”
“Fine. Hold on.”
I grab my computer and click on the bookmark which will take me to my favorite New York tabloid.
My jaw drops as the front page features a photo of me.
Kissing Senator Will Becker.
***
Wondering what your parents think of your choice of men is one thing. Wondering what the country thinks, something else.
> Who knew dating a guy would require damage control?
Within an hour the photo has gone viral. I’m in a robe curled up in a chair, sipping coffee while Frank, Vinnie and Andrew discuss how to “handle” the next President of the United States having a love interest. Tyler is chiming in on a computer monitor via Skype.
“It’s my fault,” says Becker, sitting on a couch. “I thought we were safe here and didn’t close the curtains. Figured no one could look in from the ocean.”
“Obviously the paparazzi used a boat,” says Frank, who doesn’t look happy. “But the horse is out of the barn, so we have to deal with it.”
“Am I the horse?” I ask. “I’d rather be the ship that sailed.”
No one laughs at my attempt to lighten the mood.
Becker rubs his hands over his face. “Dear God, what are my daughters going to say? I should have told them I was interested in dating again.”
Frank gets up and pats Becker on the shoulder. “They’ll understand, Will, and you said they liked Cassidy. They couldn’t expect you to be alone forever.”
“What about the voters?”
“Honestly, Will, we’re in uncharted territory. It’s not like you cheated on anyone, and you were named America’s most eligible bachelor. People are rooting for you to find Miss Right. Why not now?”
“But will it look like I’m not focused on the campaign?”
“Don’t know.”
“What do you think the reaction will be from the other candidates?”
“We’ll find out tonight, I guess.”
I take a sip of my coffee but it’s gotten cold, so I start heading down the hallway to the kitchen for a fresh cup. “Anyone want anything?”
“I’m fine,” says Frank. Vinnie and Andrew both ask for a donut.
Becker shakes his head, looking like someone ran over his dog. Just what a girl wants to see after a first kiss.
I walk into the kitchen when I hear Vinnie. “You know, we can use this if we play it right.”
“Excuse me?” says Becker.
Vinnie continues, lowering his voice, probably thinking I can’t hear him as I quietly pour a fresh cup of coffee. “Think about it, we’ve been keeping this fairy tale thing alive for women who hope to be the next First Lady. Now they can watch the equivalent of a royal romance. Look, the Brits were beyond excited when Prince Andrew started dating Kate Middleton. I’m telling you, we can use this to our advantage. Like Frank said, they’re going to root for you guys. She’s pretty and likable and has a terrific sense of humor. So don’t hide anything. Date like a normal couple.”