by Nick Harlow
“I felt the same way. But I think it helped us to go out on the fundraising tour for her scholarship fund. Even though we were on different itineraries it helped to focus on her. Though I really missed spending time with you.”
“I did too, more than you can imagine, but it helped us raise twice as much. And while she’ll always have a place in my heart, I think it’s time to move forward with our lives. Y’know, as far as social activities go.” She grabbed her purse. “That said, there’s one little thing to make this a perfect birthday but it depends on you. Actually, it’s something I hope you’ll accept.”
“It’s your birthday. Why are you giving me something?”
She opened her purse and pulled out a pin.
Silver wings.
She held it in front of him. “Well, I feel this is very appropriate in light of what you gave me. I was wondering... well, hoping... that you would live up to your nickname and be my wingman on a regular basis. Since I’ve been calling you that for the past two months, I was hoping you would assume the actual duties.”
He smiled as he looked at the wings. “So, is this your back door method of asking me to be your boyfriend?”
“Okay, fine. You got me.” She held out her wrists as if waiting to be handcuffed. “Guilty as charged.”
“See, I’m not clueless about women all the time. But I thought since you were a girl who takes what she wants, you shouldn’t have to ask—”
“Fine, I’m asking! You wanna be my boyfriend?”
He took her shoulders and locked eyes with her. “I’d be honored to be your wingman. But...”
“But?”
“I want to be sure I’m you’re top choice. You do realize that as the President’s daughter who might just have the highest approval ratings of any person in this country and is probably sought after by every single guy on the entire planet... and, being a stunning redhead who kicks ass in her spare time... well, you do know you can have any guy you want.”
She nodded and lightly tapped her chin with her finger. “Hmmm. I guess I need to take that into consideration. Not that I’m stunning, because I’m not. But, as one tabloid said, I can have my pick of the litter, so to speak. Anyway, after careful deliberation which took about two seconds, the one I want is standing in front of me.”
“Then I gladly accept. Though I strongly disagree about the stunning part. And you should learn to take a compliment.”
She flashed a big smile and started to pin the wings on his lapel but hesitated. “Of course, you do realize that having saved the aforementioned President’s daughter and being someone who is being sought after by every single girl in the country... along with being beyond cute with a great personality... that you could have any girl you want. I do read magazines, you know. Especially the one with you on the cover named America’s most eligible college bachelor. Along with that story about a certain drop dead gorgeous singer who has a crush on you and wants to meet you.”
He smiled a bit as his eyebrows did a little jump. “Yeah, I, uh, saw that.”
She folded her arms. “Aha. So, women have been hitting on you. She called you, didn’t she?”
“You can’t believe everything you read in the tabloids.”
“Uh-huh. Right.”
“Besides, I don’t like her music. Nor do I find her particularly attractive. She’s not my type.”
“Nice save, Mister. By the way...now that we’ve settled the tabloid rumors... remember that time in the bunker when you gave your trust account password to Mayfair?”
He rolled his eyes. “I was hoping you’d forgotten about that.”
“Are you kidding? That kind of stuff is pure gold.” She tapped her forehead. “And I’m a vault. It will never go away.”
“Oh, so this is the moment you’re going to use that little bit of information you stuck in your back pocket.”
“No time like the present. And it is very timely this evening. Anyway, this is a question I’ve been dying to ask. I’ve been wondering... since you were sixteen when you got that account and that was the original password when the account was set up—”
“Syd, I’ve had a crush on you since we were ten years old, okay?”
“Really? That far back?”
He nodded. “Yep. From the day I met this amazing girl in grade school. The red hair, the freckles, the spunky attitude you had even back then. I was powerless the first time I saw you.”
“Seriously?”
“Nothing’s changed, Syd. Still powerless.”
She furrowed her brow a bit. “So when we got older, how come you never, you know, asked me on a real date? How come we always did stuff as friends?”
“Because I didn’t think I had a real shot at you as a girlfriend. I was afraid if I asked and you weren’t interested, that I’d lose someone who had become my best friend. Our relationship would have never been the same and you would have been uncomfortable around me. Like I said, I knew you could have anyone you want.”
“I think I’ve already indicated my choice.”
“And I’m beyond flattered because I consider you to be way out of my league.”
“You’re sweet to say that, but I think it’s the other way around. Okay, one more question... if we’d never been in the hostage situation, would you have ever asked me out? Or told me how you felt about me?”
“Not sure. But kind of amazing how facing the possibility of death brings clarity, huh?”
“No kidding. Your true feelings come out. When you looked at me and said, ‘I can’t lose you’ my heart skipped a beat. It was like everything changed that very second.”
“It did. I realized it was time to let you know exactly how I felt, regardless of the outcome. Just in case we didn’t survive. You needed to know.”
“And you needed to know how I felt as well. Honestly, I’ll never forget the feeling when Mayfair took you away... that I might never see you again.”
“Well, thankfully it worked out.”
“One more question.”
“Is this interrogation ever going to end?”
“I promise, this is the last one. How come I never saw you date anyone seriously? And I have a confession to make before you answer. I’d get jealous when I saw other girls obviously hitting on you. And when I read the article about the singer, it really got to me. I know girls were interested in you.”
He shook his head. “That’s where you’re wrong. They really weren’t interested in me. They were interested in my father’s money, or the prestige of being with someone connected to political power, or the family name. They wanted to be attached to the son of the Speaker of the House. As I’ve heard many politicians say, power and money are incredible aphrodisiacs. And like I said, I never had a girlfriend because I’ve had a crush on you since I was ten years old that always distracted me. None of the other girls ever measured up to you. Sydney Donovan, you’re the most amazing woman I’ve ever met. Beautiful, smart, funny, passionate, brave... and you honestly care about other people. You’re the ultimate total package. I admire you more than you know and will be proud to be your boyfriend. You’re someone I really look up to... and not just because you’re currently towering over me in those shoes.”
She blushed a bit. “Yeah, these four inch heels make me a six-foot-three amazon. I can fix that. Let me come back down to a more reasonable five-eleven.” She reached down to grab a shoe but he took her wrist.
“Stop. You look like a princess tonight. Don’t touch a thing.”
“Awww.”
“Besides, even barefoot you’re still taller than me, so what’s the point?”
“You know, Gladys picked out the dress and these were the only shoes I could find for my huge feet that went with it. Though I do love them.”
“I thought designers were clamoring to design a dress for you. Gladys took you shopping?”
“Yep. She said I needed help finding something that would turn your head and didn’t like the stuff the designers suggested. This
gown is actually off the rack. And it was on sale, which made my dad happy.”
“Whoa, hold on. You bought this for me?”
“Did it turn your head?”
“It’s been on a swivel like an owl watching you all night, so mission accomplished. You look amazing, Syd.”
“Ah, it worked. And you’re very sweet.” She ran one finger down the inside of his shirt, stealing his breath. “Speaking of turning heads, when I first saw you in that tuxedo, I forgot to breathe. You’re like my own personal James Bond.”
He started to blush. “I... uh... so, Gladys is playing matchmaker.”
“Well, sort of. She thinks the world of you. As does my father. She did warn me about you, though. She said guys who look like you are dangerous.”
“Excuse me? How am I dangerous looking?”
She playfully ran one hand through his hair. “Oh, not bad boy dangerous. You’ve got that boy-next-door thing going with that thick, tousled hair, long dimples and those gorgeous eyes that make you look like you’ve got a bit of the devil in them. Or that you’d like to be more than friends with me. Dangerous in that you could render me powerless.”
“Gladys said that?”
“Nope, that’s my description. Gladys has always referred to you as a cute little thing.”
He laughed a bit.
“Oh, Scott, I’m sorry...”
“About what?”
“I didn’t mean to imply you’re little—”
“Oh, stop it. I realize I’m not a big guy. Besides, we’ve already established you’re taller. With or without heels.”
“Speaking of said heels... I’ve always wondered. That doesn’t bother you, does it?”
He shook his head. “What, you being taller? Of course not. You’ve been taller than me since we met in the fourth grade and you kissed me in the playground on the first day of school.”
“I couldn’t resist. You were such a cute little thing.”
“Very funny.”
“And this is why I knew I liked you a lot right off the bat. You didn’t even get mad and wanted to be friends that day. And you took a bullet for me, telling the principal you dared me to do it after I got caught. Even then you were protecting me.”
“I didn’t get mad because this incredible girl kissed me. Anyway, back to your original question... I’m proud to be seen with you. Wear all the four inch heels you want. Besides, killer legs like yours should never be in flats.”
“Thank you, that makes my day. See, that’s what I love about you. You’re so confident in yourself.”
“As long as it doesn’t bother you to be seen with a shorter guy.”
“Scott, you’re the biggest man I know.”
He moved closer, slipped his hands around her waist, her pulse quickening at his touch. She took his chin in her other hand, tilted it up a bit, and gave him a long, soft kiss.
About the Author
Nick Harlow has spent 30 years in the television news business as a reporter, anchor and manager for local stations and as a freelance field producer for all the major networks. He is one of the few people in the country who does work for both NBC and Fox News. He also took a few years off to work on political campaigns. He also runs a mentoring business for young journalists.
Nick is the author of seven political thrillers and a few journalism books.