by Nic Tatano
“That’s what you’re taking from all of this? But hey, why am I not surprised since all you care about is your political career. Yes, I’m leaving the campaign and I’m leaving skid marks. Right now. And guess what, Will? So are you.”
“Excuse me?”
“I’ll give you till Friday to drop out of the race. Make up whatever excuse you want. Personal reasons, illness, I don’t give a damn. Because if you don’t I’ll leak this story about your secret son and your campaign will be dead anyway. Bow out gracefully and the media doesn’t ever hear about this. The story stays buried. But if you ever run for a political office again, I leak the story. And considering your propensity to throw people away, if anything mysterious happens to me, the story is in a secure location and automatically triggered to go to all the networks and every newspaper in New York.”
“You’re blackmailing me?”
“No, Will, I’m saving the country I love from someone who is unfit to be President. Because now, more than ever, this country needs someone with a soul.” I grab my purse and head for the door. “Friday, Will. Tick tock. I’m a reporter and I have never missed a deadline.”
“Cassidy, isn’t there anyway we can resolve this? I can lose the Presidency but I can’t lose you. We can make this work. I know you love me as much as I love you.”
“Goodbye, Will. And if you want someone to love, look in the mirror.”
He says nothing, looks down at his desk.
“Oh, one more thing, Senator. The same deadline applies to your daughters. If you don’t tell them the truth, I will.”
***
I push my Kung Pao chicken around the plate as I watch the coverage with Sam and Ripley. Seeing Will Becker wrap up his speech is killing my appetite and the food has no taste though it should be blazing hot. His face is drawn, his eyes bloodshot. The vibrant man who was the country’s most eligible bachelor looks defeated. “Finally, I am releasing my committed delegates, and I do not want my name placed in nomination at the convention. I realize this will create an open convention but hope the party can unite behind the best candidate to defeat the President and take back the White House. Thank you all for your support in the past, and God bless America.”
Reporters bombard him with questions, but Becker simply turns and walks away.
Sam turns down the sound on the television. “Well, Tyler’s strategy worked. He didn’t call your bluff.”
“Which proves he doesn’t know me at all. He should know I would never release a story that would cause such pain to his children and Brian’s family.”
Ripley reaches over and pats my hand. “You did the right thing, we’re proud of you.”
“So why do I feel like crap right now?”
Sam takes my hand, his fingers entwine with mine. “Because you got used, and because you were thinking with the wrong head, like a man.”
“Huh?”
“He’s right,” says Ripley. “It was high school all over again. Only this time the quarterback was the country’s most eligible bachelor. But sweetie, any girl would have done the same thing. I mean, they turned you into Jackie Kennedy for a few weeks and you were dating an incredibly hot guy who seemed to be everything you were looking for. Plus, you got caught up in being America’s favorite couple. Don’t beat yourself up.”
“Why didn’t I see it?”
“Because while love is blind, infatuation is just plain stupid,” she says.
I feel my eyes welling up. “I really thought he cared for me. And I hate to say this, but I think I was falling in love with him.”
She wraps an arm around my shoulders. “No, you weren’t. You were in love with being in love with him, if that makes any sense. You would have become Mrs. Will Becker and the First Lady, but Cassidy would have disappeared into the shadows. His identity would have destroyed yours. And I know that’s not what you wanted.”
“I never should have taken the damn job.”
“Then you wouldn’t have fallen in love,” says Ripley.
“You just said I wasn’t really in love.”
Sam reaches over to the coffee table, grabs a stack of newspapers and tosses them in my lap. “You fell in love, Cassidy, but not with Will Becker.”
I look at the front page of the tabloid, the now famous photo of Tyler and me at the hospital.
My brother taps the paper. “If that’s not the look of love on your face, then I don’t know what is.”
“He’s right,” says Ripley. “You had the title of Becker’s girlfriend, but you were dating Tyler. Sometimes we have to see ourselves from someone else’s point of view. Remember?” She turns the page on the newspaper and points to a quote the paper has pulled and put in bold black letters. “Read what you said. Aloud.”
I wipe my eyes and focus on my own words. “Tyler Garrity is just about the finest man I know. He’s incredibly kind, an old-fashioned gentleman that every girl wants.” My voice cracks, overcome with emotion. “And right now when I look at him, I see my hero.” I feel the waterworks about to blow.
“Cassidy,” says Sam, “those two weekends Tyler spent here… I don’t think I’ve ever seen you happier. You two are a perfect match. He’s your soul mate. And he’s head over heels in love with you.”
“He is?”
Ripley grabs my shoulders. “Good God, are you blind? He treats you like Sam treats me.”
“If he’s in love with me, why didn’t he ever say something? Why didn’t he ask me out?”
“He wanted to the first day he met you, but thought he couldn’t compete with Becker,” says Sam.
“How do you know this?”
“We talked about it that time we were making breakfast before you woke up.”
“Well,” says Ripley, “I didn’t have to talk to him about it. I could see it plain as day. And I could see you were in love with him.” She flips the newspaper back to the front page. “Picture’s worth a thousand words, right?”
I stare at the photo, looking at myself.
“I think the light bulb is turning on,” says Ripley.
“Give it time,” says Sam. “In her case it’s on a dimmer switch.”
I flip the newspaper open and read my words again.
Ripley takes my chin and turns my head to face her. “You and Tyler went to a Broadway show, an opera, a Mets game, a Giants game. You spent two weekends together. You have everything in common. You’re so in tune you kicked our ass in pinochle the first time you played as a team. You miss him terribly when he’s not around. He’s the first guy you called when you were on the road and you talk so much the battery runs out on your both your phone and your iPad. You spent four nights in a hospital room with him, sleeping next to him in a bloody dress and holding his hand, and I know you would have been devastated if he had died. You told a newspaper reporter he was your hero. The last time you had a good night’s sleep was with him in the hospital. Sure sounds like someone you love to me.” She reaches into her pocket, pulls out her cell phone and taps it a few times. “Watch.”
I see myself and Tyler, playing gin rummy during one of our weekends together, laughing and having a good time. Ripley taps the phone again, and I watch the two of us sitting next to each other enjoying breakfast, kidding around.
“Look what you’re doing with your hand,” she says.
I’m twirling my hair as I look at Tyler.
“It’s your tell.”
I look up at Ripley, see her soft smile. “Why did you tape this stuff?”
“You needed another point of view, just like I did. Sometimes we girls miss the obvious.” She looks over at Sam and takes his hand. “Sometimes the right guy is right in front of us.”
I then turn to Sam.
“You should know by now I’m never wrong,” he says. “But I wouldn’t wait too long, he’s New York’s most eligible superhero. Oh, and as a reminder, you recently said you wanted to marry a man just like me. Well, there he is.”
I suddenly get up, put the newspapers on the
coffee table, grab my purse and head for the door. “I have to go.”
“Feel free to use my script,” says Ripley. “And I don’t think you’ll need a teleprompter.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
@TwitterGirl
The campaign was fun while it lasted. I’ll be in touch…
Tyler opens the door and smiles. “Hey, I didn’t know you were coming by.”
“I didn’t either.”
“Well, come on in.” I enter and see an ironing board is unfolded next to a basket full of clothes. “You’re ironing shirts on a Friday night?”
“Well, the Disney bluebirds didn’t show up to do my laundry. They’re incredibly unreliable.” He studies my face and drops his voice. “You watched his speech, didn’t you.”
“Yeah.”
“I told you not to do it.”
“In case you hadn’t noticed, Tyler, I’m a little bit stubborn.”
He takes my arms in his hands. “I can tell it upset you. I’m sorry you got hurt.”
“I’m more mad at myself than anything.”
“Hey, he fooled me for nine years. He fooled everyone.” Tyler gives me a hug and strokes my hair for a moment, then pulls back. “So, anything I can do to make you feel better?”
“Just seeing you makes me feel better. But Tyler, I need to ask you some stuff. Important things I need to know and I want you to be totally honest with me.”
“Sure, fire away.”
“Okay. You like me a lot, right?”
“Geez, for a network reporter you sure start off with a stupid question. Of course I like you a lot. I’m surprised you have to ask.”
“How long have you liked me a lot?”
“From the first day I met you. You asked me to be honest, I’m being honest.”
“And do you know that I like you a lot?”
“Well, yeah, sure. I mean, you just spent the better part of a week with me in the hospital. But that day I met you I could tell we had a connection and were on the same wavelength. You know how you click with some people? We’ve always been on the same page from the start.”
“So, if you liked me a lot from the first day we met, and you knew I liked you, why didn’t you ever ask me out on a date?”
“Why are you asking me this stuff?”
“Because I need to know. And I need to know right now, so please bear with me because I’ll explain my reasoning shortly. Why didn’t you ever ask me out?”
He shoves his hands in his pockets and looks down at the floor. “I, uh, well… I knew I couldn’t compete with Becker and that you were interested in him.”
“But I didn’t really start dating him, if you even want to call it that, for a while. Why didn’t you ever ask me out on an official date, Tyler? Before I started seeing Becker.”
He looks up at me with sad eyes. “I figured you were, you know, out of my league.”
“Excuse me?”
“Look in the mirror. You’re gorgeous and smart and funny and have a big heart. The kind of girl who could have any guy she wants. Girls like you don’t usually go out with guys like me.”
“What do you mean, girls like me?”
“Like I said, you’re the total package. You can have any guy you want, and you wanted the Senator. I picked that up right away. And I knew I couldn’t measure up to him.”
“Tyler, you’re ten times the man he is.”
“Thank you, that’s very kind of you to say.”
“So, did you want to ask me out? Before I started seeing Becker?”
“Of course, but I didn’t want to get shot down.”
“Why would you assume that I’d say no?”
“Again, you’re everything a guy could want. A dream girl. And since you have this affinity for platform heels, I assumed you’d want a guy built like Becker.”
“You really didn’t ask me out because I’m a few inches taller than you?”
He shrugs. “That’s part of it.”
“Did you happen to notice that when you stayed at my house I had clothes that fit you from an old boyfriend? Didn’t that tell you I don’t mind dating guys who are shorter than I am?”
“Yeah, but by then you were doing your Jackie Kennedy thing with Becker. I’m not sure any man could compete with that.”
“Final question. After my so-called Jackie Kennedy tour, is that why you were down when I called you that night? Be honest.”
He looks down again. “I’m embarrassed to say I was really jealous. It hurt to see you with him because I wanted you. That’s why I didn’t feel like talking. I wanted to be happy for you but I couldn’t. I hope that doesn’t sound selfish but you asked me to be honest. I figured you only wanted me as a friend and I had to accept that. And it hurt. It really hurt.”
I slowly nod and take his hand.
It’s time for Ripley’s script.
“Let’s sit down a minute, there’s something you need to hear.”
“Sure.” I lead him over to the couch and gesture toward it. He sits down and I climb onto his lap, curling one arm around his neck. His eyes widen. “Uh…what—”
“Shhhh.” I put one finger over his lips. “Cassidy is talking and she has something very important to say. By the way, young man, when there’s a girl on your lap you need to hold her. And Cassidy really needs to be held right now. Hands, use ’em.” He wraps his hands around my waist. “Very nice. Now, do I have your undivided attention?”
He nods and mutters, with the same look Sam had when Ripley sat on his lap. “Uh-huh.”
“Good. Tyler, it hit me when we were in the hospital and I got in bed next to you. I have never, ever felt so comfortable with a man in my life. It hit me when I read what I said about you in the newspaper when you were in the coma. It hit me when I saw how I looked at you in the front page photo when I thought you might die, how I never looked at a man that way, even the guys I’ve loved. It hit me when I saw video of the two of us and I was twirling my hair, which is my tell when I’m really attracted to a guy. So I’m thinking, who is this girl, and why doesn’t she see what the camera sees? Why doesn’t she believe her own words in the newspaper? Sometimes you really don’t know yourself without a different point of view. And then it hit me. I love the way you and I have been so in tune since the first day we met. I love how you watched me walk to my car the night I brought you a pizza to make sure I was safe. I love how we can talk on the phone for hours about any subject. I love how you like the same movies and sports that I do. I love how you rescued me in the deli from Wheeler the Dealer. I love your sense of humor, how you’re always bright and cheerful. I love how you threatened to kick the party chairman’s ass and killed that poll because it would have hurt my feelings. I love your clever little nicknames for people. I love that you were the one who arranged for me to get a six-foot box of chocolates and wrote the line that came with it. I love that you know how to cook and can make the most incredible scones. I love the look on your face in our photo that made Page Six after the opera. I love how you tease me about my ridiculous appetite. I love how you call me smoking hot even though I’m not even close. And I love how you risked your own life to save that little girl, which means you would take a bullet for me and will always protect me. Tyler Garrity, I hope you can forgive me because I have been a complete idiot. The best man in the world has been right in front of my nose and I didn’t see him. You are absolutely the perfect man for me and I am sorry it took me so long to realize it.”
He’s in shock, his jaw hanging open while those incredible eyes of his lock with mine.
“Cassidy is now done with the verbal part of her apology.” I take his head in hands and kiss him, soft at first, then harder as the electricity I feel is off the charts, much more than I ever felt with Will Becker. His hands run up my back, into my hair. Suddenly I feel a hunger for a man I’ve never felt before, and I can’t stop kissing him. Finally our lips part. Tyler’s look of shock has morphed into a slight smile. “So, am I forgiven?”
&nb
sp; “Excuse me?”
“Am I forgiven for being an idiot? By the man who is absolutely perfect for me. Or does poor little Cassidy have to get down on her knees and beg?”
He shrugs. “Depends.”
“Depends? On what?”
“On what you do when you’re on your knees.”
“Why Tyler Garrity, you have a dirty mind.”
“There’s a smoking hot redhead on my lap who just gave me a tonsillectomy, what did you expect?”
“So, are you gonna make it official and ask me out on a date?”
“Absolutely. T.G., would you—”
“No, no more initials. I want you to say my name.”
“Fine.” He gets a gleam in his eyes. “Would you like to have dinner with me, Twitter Girl?”
I hug him hard as the emotions I’ve been holding in finally explode and tears roll down my cheeks. Only they’re tears of joy. “I’d love to have lots of dinners with you. Lots and lots of dinners. But the next meal we have together is going to be breakfast.”
“Oh, I get it.” He leans back. “You just want me for my scones.”
“Well, you are the total package and you know I need a man who can cook. By the way, when a guy is perfect, Ripley says he’s ready to drive off the lot. So why don’t you give me a ride to your bedroom?”
***
“I must be dreaming. There’s a smoking hot redhead in my bed.”
I crack open one eye and see Tyler lying on his side, smiling at me. “I’m the one who’s dreaming. There’s a smoking cute guy in my bed.”
“Oh, is that my new nickname? Smoking cute?”
I pry open both eyes and prop myself up on one elbow. “No, I still haven’t come up with a nickname. I’m simply stating a fact. You are smoking cute.”
“I’ve never heard the term.”
“I just made it up. It means you’re the ultimate in cute.”
“Isn’t it better to be hot than cute?”
“Cute lasts forever. You’ll always have that boyish thing about you, even when you’re old. And you’re a smoking cute guy.” I yawn and lay my head back on the pillow. “What time is it?”
“A little after noon. It’s my recovery day, so I sleep late, remember?”