Page 9 of Presidential Bargain
There was a soft knock on the door and then it opened. I was anticipating Jameson, but instead came face to face with the spindoctors.
“We’re ready for you,”Lewissaid.
“That is, if you’re ready,” Jenkinsadded.
“I’m ready. Are you two gentlemen going to be myescorts?”
“Yes. Senator Martin already began the pressconference.”
This information surprised me. I thought we were supposed to hold the press conference together. I also felt disappointed he wasn’t here to escort me himself. I looked good and I wanted to be appreciated. And I wanted him to do theappreciating.
Lewis and Jenkins walked in front of me as we made our way down to the hotel’s lobby. The hotel’s waterfront location provided an excellent backdrop for our announcement. Perfect location, seemingly perfect couple, what more could America ask for? I slid on a pair of sleek, cat eye sunglasses with dark lenses that hid my fears and doubts from the waitingcrowd.
We walked to the stage and waited behind it. I couldn’t see Jameson from where he stood at the podium, but instead could hear the deep timbre of his voice as he spoke. I wasn’t paying attention to what he was saying; instead, I focused on the group of reporters gathered for today’s event. I thought maybe ten would show up, but it seemed like there were at least fifty in attendance. This was too much. I stepped back, away from Lewis and Jenkins, and faced the ocean, letting the cool breeze wash over me. My chest felt tight again, my breath coming in short, shallow spurts. I tried not to think about the life I was giving up—my job, my home, my privacy. And on some level, I was giving up my heart too. I committed myself to this man for potentially eight years. Was that what I wanted? Was it worth five milliondollars?
Then I felt a warm hand on my back. It was firm, yet comforting. Andfamiliar.
“Are you nervous?” His voice was deep and vibrated acrossmybody.
“Yes.” I nodded my head but didn’t turn around. Jameson continued to stand behind me, his hand on my back, his voice low andvelvety.
“You lookbeautiful.”
“Thankyou.”
“Are youready?”
“Do I have achoice?”
“Notanymore.”
“What if I screw up?” I was nervous about saying the wrong thing, or slipping up and telling the entire world about ourarrangement.
“I’ll be there too. I’ll make sure youdon’t.”
“Okay. Let’s go.” I turned to finally face him and nearly gasped. I had seen him in suits, of course; it was all he seemed to wear. But for today’s event, he was dressed almost casually. He wore a navy-blue polo shirt that stretched deliciously across his chest and defined his muscular arms. A pair of slim-fit khakis showed off his trim waist. His dark, inky-black hair was a perfectly disheveled mass, and he wore a pair of aviator sunglasses with dark lenses that covered those artic blue eyes I desperately longedtosee.
Jameson stretched out a hand and led me to a set of temporary stairs. Before we ascended the steps, he turned back and gave me a mischievously crooked smile. “There’s no turning back now,Georgie.”
Georgina Washington lookedadorable whenshe was terrified. I stared down at her and even though her eyes were covered by dark sunglasses, I knew they were filled with fear. I had been giving a brief press conference, addressing some items on my policy agenda when I saw Lewis and Jenkins leading her to the stage. She looked gorgeous, absolutely stunning. The creamy, silk dress fluttered around her legs as she walked and the slight breeze ruffled her golden hair. The moment I had her in my sight, lyrics flooded my brain.Here comes the sun. She was the sun, and every minute I spent with her, my heart begantothaw.
With one hand on the railing, I reached the other toward her, almost an invitation.Be my partner, I said silently. Georgie seemed to hesitate a moment before slipping her tiny hand into mine and then I led her up to the stage, toward the sea of reporters waiting to strike, waiting to find her flaw.Ourflaw.
“Ladies and gentlemen, members of the press,” I began once I reached the podium. “I want to thank you for sticking around for just a little bit longer. I know this August sun can be brutal, but honestly, I couldn’t ask for a better day. There have been some questions raised about my personal life, questions that, quite frankly, I don’t appreciate for a number of reasons. Having a family does not necessarily mean that I am not fit to serve this country as its next president. Believe it or not, this country has had a bachelor as a president. But that’s not really why we are here today. I invited you here today to introduce you to the woman who has brought sunshine back intomylife.”
The last line was off-script, but I could see the press was enthralled. Every woman in the audience was on the verge of swooning. I had them eating out of the palm of my hand. I turned toward Georgie, who was standing behind me, and extended my arm toward her. She walked slowly toward the podium, toward me, and when she made it, I gathered her tomyside.
“I am so pleased to announce to you that a few months ago, this gorgeous woman agreed to be my wife and spend the rest of her life with me.” I gave her my best panty-dropping smile and hoped that her rosy cheeks were from blushing and not from the heat. “We have just a few moments to answer the questions that I know you’re dyingtoask.”
The shouting began almost instantly and was deafening. I pointed toward onereporter.
“Senator, is her name really Georgina Washington? I mean, you’re running for president and you’re marrying someone essentially named GeorgeWashington.”
Everyone laughed and I knew the name would be a big issue. We were going to have to deal with questions and jokes. “Maybe we should let her answer thisquestion.”
Georgie stepped closer to the microphone. I saw her scan the audience a few times, nervously looking out at everyone who was waiting to hear what she had to say. Admittedly, I was a little concerned about that myself. “My name truly is Georgina Washington. I’m not sure why my parents decided to name their only child after our country’s first president. I’m positive they didn’t think of the teasing I would endure all throughout school. Luckily, my middle name is not Martha, in case any of you were wondering. It’s Marie. Unfortunately, my parents are no longer with us, so they cannot be held accountable for theirdecision.”
This prompted a fresh wave of questions about her parents, which Georgie answered with grace. When she finished answering their questions, I stepped back toward the podium. “We have time for one or two morequestions.”
