Officemate

  Conflict flickered over her face, which I imagined stemmed from two things. First, she was such a professional that she hated to cut loose when there was so much work to be done, and secondly, she was wondering about the parameters of us having dinner, i.e. did it look like a date? Since she had her work clothes on, it seemed her brain could only see me as vice president. Our boundaries were clear—colleagues only—yet when we were hanging out outside of work, we were friends who relaxed together quite easily.

  I felt as though I needed to ensure that I understood the boundaries, so I cleared my throat. “It won’t just be us—Ty will be there too.” After glancing down at my feet, I added, “And Conan.”

  Isabel laughed. “Okay.”

  “What sounds good?”

  “Even though it will run the risk of putting me to sleep, I’d love anything loaded with carbs.”

  “Pasta?”

  Her eyes lit up. “Mm, yes.”

  “I know just the place.”

  “Il Felice or Brigante?”

  “No. I’m talking a true authentic Italian restaurant on Mulberry Street owned by a guy whose parents came through Ellis Island.”

  “You want to go to dinner in Little Italy?” Isabel asked almost incredulously.

  “From your tone, you would think I’d suggested chartering the company jet and flying to Rome for dinner. Last time I checked, it was a twenty-minute drive over to Little Italy, give or take a bit with traffic.”

  “I just assumed you meant we were going to grab something close.” Eyeing me curiously, she replied, “You could really charter the jet on a whim?”

  “Sure I can.”

  She shook her head. “That’s crazy.”

  “If you want to go to Rome, just say the word.”

  “I’d love to go to Rome, but not tonight.”

  “Have you ever been?”

  “Not yet. I’ve done most of the UK, but I haven’t made it to Italy yet. It’s one of those bucket list things.” With a determined look, she added, “I hope to make it soon.”

  I nodded. “My mom loves traveling internationally. I think I was barely a year old when I got my first passport.”

  “Wow. I didn’t get one until I was twenty-five.” She smiled. “I gave myself a trip to London for getting my MBA.”

  “Well that’s a good thing because you’re old enough to remember the trips. The pictures of me in diapers at the Vatican are the only way I even know I went to Rome—well, at least until we went back when I was a teenager.”

  “It’s hard to imagine you as a sweet little toddler in diapers.”

  “Who said I was sweet?” I jokingly asked.

  “Were you a terror?”

  “Actually, I was a pretty laidback kid, which turned out to be a good thing for my parents because Barrett sure as hell wasn’t.” I reached into my suit pocket for my phone. “Here, let me call for my car.”

  “Your car? Fancy.”

  “I’m fine with taking the subway, but it gives Ty hives with the potential security issues.”

  Isabel’s expression grew serious. “Does he really think someone would hurt you?”

  “Not really. There’s always a slight risk being a sitting president’s child, but I don’t think there’s ever actually been an attack.”

  “Just on Princess Anne,” Ty piped up from the doorway.

  “Excuse me?” I asked.

  He grinned. “Sorry, that’s my British side speaking there. While there haven’t been any attempts on the lives of a president’s child, Princess Anne was almost kidnapped back in 1974, but she used her balls of steel to fight off the guy trying to get into her car.”

  I gave him a pointed look. “See? None here in the States.”

  “That doesn’t mean I’m going to let up in my duties. It’s a crazy world we’re living in now,” Ty countered.

  “I’m surprised you don’t get more women throwing themselves at you,” Isabel said with a smile.

  “Who says that hasn’t happened?” I replied teasingly.

  If there were stereotypical Italian restaurants in Little Italy, Mauricio’s was one of them. It had the Italian flag prominently displayed along with black and white pictures of long-dead Italians, and a violinist played O Sole a Mio in the candlelight.

  The moment we swept through the door, the owner, Mauricio himself, clapped his pudgy hands and came over to us. “Mr. Callahan, how lovely to see you.”

  “Thanks, Mauricio. There isn’t an issue with my companion joining us, is there?”

  Instead of looking at Conan, Mauricio threw a playful glance at Isabel. “Is she housetrained?”

  “Barely,” Isabel retorted with a smile.

  “Ah, a lovely redhead with a personality to match her hair.” Mauricio reached over and grabbed Isabel into his arms. She stiffened slightly as he planted kisses on both her cheeks.

  “Can we get two tables please?”

  “Of course. Give me one moment.”

  Over the last few weeks, Isabel had gotten used to the arrangement when we went out to dinner with Ty. At first, she couldn’t believe Ty wouldn’t be sitting with us, but now she was used to him taking a table close to the door so he could survey the scene.

  After we sat down and gave our wine order, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I glanced at the text and fought the urge to roll my eyes before shoving it back in my suit.

  “Hot date?” Isabel asked.

  I snorted. “Not quite. It was my mother.”

  “I see.”

  “You would think it was her getting married this weekend instead of Addison and Barrett.”

  “Oh, that’s right. With the media coverage, it feels a little like our own royal wedding.”

  “I’m pretty sure this one will have a lot less pomp and circumstance.”

  Isabel smiled. “Don’t tell me you got up early to watch Harry and Meghan’s wedding.”

  “I did get up early, but that was to attend the wedding.”

  Her eyes widened. “You know Prince Harry?” she demanded in a strangled voice.

  “He and Barrett were thick as thieves back in the day. We got to know each other when I attended the Invictus Games with Barrett.”

  “I…well, wow.” She slowly shook her head. “Sometimes when I’m with you, I forget who you are.”

  “And who is that?”

  “Someone famous.”

  “Hardly,” I scoffed before taking a sip of wine.

  “Come on—your father is the president of the United States, and you hang out with princes.”

  “For the record, I’ve only met Prince Harry. I’m pretty sure none of the others have any clue who I am,” I argued.

  “It still makes you pretty extraordinary when you think about it.”

  I shook my head. “Leading an extraordinary life isn’t about those things. Sure, it’s pretty amazing that my dad is one of the most powerful men in the world, but the person he is inside is far more noteworthy. Regardless of how high he climbed in the political world, he always managed to keep his integrity. At the same time, he managed to be a hell of a good father.” Jerking my chin at Mauricio, I said, “His father was extraordinary too. He came to America with only the clothes on his back, and through the sheer will of his character, he built this restaurant. He didn’t die a very rich man, but he left a legacy for his children and his community with the content of his character.”

  Isabel swept her hand to her chest. “I don’t think I can possibly verbalize what I’m feeling at the moment.”

  “You’re speechless? I think we should check to see if hell has frozen over.”

  “I’m serious.”

  With a shrug, I replied, “It’s just how I feel.”

  “If someone told me two months ago that you would ever say something so deeply beautiful, I would have laughed in their face.”

  “That’s because I was executing Operation Asshole, remember?” I tapped my chest. “I’m the same person I’ve always been.”

 
She smiled. “I’m thankful you decided to wave a white flag of surrender on that one.”

  “What about you? Who do you know who is extraordinary?”

  “By your definition, I would have to say my parents.”

  “You really haven’t told me much about your family.”

  “They’re just good, simple people.”

  I couldn’t help being curious about why Isabel seemed hesitant to give me any details about her family. “It’s okay. We can leave it at that,” I said diplomatically.

  After nibbling on her lip, she replied, “I might as well tell you the truth. I mean, I don’t know how cagey you can be when you’re sitting across from a guy whose dad has access to the FBI and CIA.”

  I laughed. “For the record, I would never have my father dig up dirt on you.”

  “And I appreciate that.” She took a sip of wine. “My dad is a farmer who makes his living for the year off a roadside vegetable and fruit stand. In the winter, he does odd jobs around town, like handyman stuff. My mom drives a school bus so she can help him during the summer, and they still live in the same double-wide trailer they bought when I was in middle school.”

  “Your dad works with his hands, and your mom cares for kids.” When she gave a quick jerk of her head, I replied, “That sounds like honorable work to me.”

  Tears momentarily shimmered in her eyes. “Thank you. They’ve worked hard all their lives, but most of all, they’ve been really good parents. They always sacrificed to make sure Christina and I had what we needed.”

  I tilted my head in thought. “And now you do all you can for them.”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “I’m sure they’re immensely proud of all you’ve accomplished.”

  Isabel’s face lit up with my compliment. “Yes, and they are very vocal about their pride. I often hear it two or three times a week when we talk.”

  “It’s wonderful you can maintain a close relationship even though you’re so far away.”

  “It is, but you’re no stranger to long distances with your family, either.”

  “Very true. I’ve seen them more in person the last few months than in the past several years, but we managed through Skype chats and phone calls. I can’t imagine what it must’ve been like for soldiers in the pre-technology days.”

  “It had to be brutal for them and for their families.”

  As I thought about technology, my mind focused on the contents of my mom’s text. I hadn’t told Isabel about Mom informing me she was going to set me up if I wasn’t bringing anyone to the wedding. The last thing in the world I wanted was another one of Mom’s setups. Being single at a wedding is uncomfortable enough, especially when you throw in trying to get to know someone.

  Then an idea popped into my head. What better person to attend the wedding with than Isabel? She could rub elbows with the best of them, and I knew the minute my family met her, they’d like her as much as I did.

  “So, I was just thinking…”

  “About what?” Isabel asked as she swiped her mouth with her napkin.

  “I still think you owe me for all the sabotage.”

  Isabel’s eyes widened. “I got you Conan—isn’t that enough?”

  At the mention of his name, Conan raised his head. “Yes, he is the gift that keeps on giving. At the same time, I’m wondering if, considering the severity of your actions, I shouldn’t ask more of you.”

  “I’m not sure I like the turn this conversation has taken,” she huffed as she tossed her napkin on the table.

  I furrowed my brows at her. “That I expect more of you?”

  “That you expect…that from me.”

  I held up my hands. “Whoa, wait a minute—that is not what I was insinuating at all.”

  Isabel’s forehead wrinkled in surprise. “It’s not?”

  “Uh, no. It’s not.”

  “Oh, God, I’m so sorry,” she muttered as her face turned the color of an overripe tomato.

  I gave her a teasing grin. “I’m not sure you should be apologizing to the man upstairs when it’s me you just insinuated wanted sexual favors from you.”

  “Mentioning God was about the mortification I felt because I assumed that.”

  “And why exactly did you make that assumption?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. There was something about the tone of your voice…asking me to do more for you…” She gave me a pointed look. “You are a man, after all.”

  “Thank you for noticing that.” I cocked my head at her. “And men are natural sex fiends?”

  “That has been my experience.”

  I laughed. “Well, that’s not me.” Great, Thorn, way to sound like a complete eunuch in front of Isabel. Rushing on, I added, “I mean, don’t get me wrong—I like and appreciate sex, but I don’t let it rule my life.”

  The corners of her lips quirked at my last comment. “Now that we’ve cleared that up, what is it you would like me to do that is not sexual in nature?”

  “I want you to come to Barrett and Addison’s wedding with me.”

  Isabel’s jaw practically dropped onto the table. “What?”

  “I’m pretty sure you heard me.”

  “Sure, I did, but forgive me for still being slightly shell-shocked after the previous course of our conversation, not to mention that an invitation to the White House bears repeating.”

  “Oh come on, it’s not that big of a deal.”

  “I think we’ve already covered what a big deal it actually is.”

  I shrugged. “To me, it’s just my little brother getting married, not some huge society event.”

  Isabel eyed me curiously. “You really don’t have a date?”

  If she hadn’t said it almost incredulously, my manhood would have been insulted. “As a matter of fact, I don’t.”

  “I see.”

  “Does that surprise you?”

  She nodded. “I would assume you had a whole harem of women at your beck and call.”

  With a laugh, I replied, “No, I don’t.”

  “And how is that possible for a rich and handsome man like you?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s just one of the great mysteries of life.”

  “I’m serious.”

  After taking another sip of wine, I looked at Isabel. “You think I’m handsome?”

  Isabel rolled her eyes. “Stop deflecting.”

  “Fine. I really don’t know why I don’t have a date for the wedding or a harem of women at my beck and call. I guess it boils down to the fact that that’s just not who I am. I’m not a hookup guy. I only like to be with real women who aren’t looking to be with me because of my money or looks. I want to be with someone who sees past all that to the person I am within.”

  “I can imagine that’s pretty hard to come by with all the phony women around Manhattan.”

  If only she knew the truth of that, knew the number of times I’d been stopped when out running or even just walking with Conan. Women had actually come straight over and propositioned me. Before I left the States for my first tour, women weren’t that brazen. At first, I’d thought it was funny, if not odd, but with each folded cell number or up-close-and-personal hug while getting a selfie with me, I became angry. It was as if I’d lost my identity on two levels: as a major in the Army, and as Thorn Callahan the man. Phony women were pissing me off.

  Then there was the beautiful one in front of me.

  “Yes, it is. With Dad’s presidency, it’s gotten even worse. Women want to be photographed with me for the instant fame, or they want to date me for my money—to see what expensive gifts and lavish vacations I might bestow on them.”

  With a sympathetic look, Isabel said, “I can’t imagine how hard that must be. Women should be able to see what I see.”

  Unable to help myself, I fished for a compliment. “And what is that?”

  “A man of worthy character and a kind, giving soul.”

  Speechless, I could merely stare at Isabel. Statemen
ts like that made me question just how much I liked her—they made me love her…and as more than just a friend. “Thank you.”

  “You’re very welcome. I truly mean that—I wasn’t just saying it to stroke your ego.”

  “Yes, I knew you were sincere.”

  “Good.”

  Since we desperately needed a change in the conversation, I asked, “Why aren’t you dating anyone?”

  “Oh no, don’t change the subject. This conversation isn’t about me.”

  “Guess what—it is now.”

  She huffed out a frustrated breath. “You can be so infuriating.”

  “It’s part of my charm,” I mused.

  With a shrug, she replied, “I could say I don’t know why I’m not dating anyone, that it just boils down to one of the great mysteries in life, but that would be a lie. Like the vapid bimbos who search you out, I seem to find the men they should be dating. Men always end up being threatened by my career. They’re turned off by a strong woman who is self-reliant. They want so much to be needed, and they want to control. They can’t imagine how I could possibly compliment their lives.”

  “Fuck me. That’s a dismal summation,” I replied.

  Isabel gave me a rueful smile. “Just callin’ it as I see it. But, like I’ve said before, my career doesn’t leave a lot of time for dating. Of course, when it’s someone really worthwhile, you make time.”

  “Yes, you do.” I shook my head. “And I stand by my previous statement about how you’ve only dated boys and not men. There’s a man out there who will appreciate your strength and drive as much as they do your beauty.” With a wink, I added, “You’re a hell of a package, Flannery.”

  “Wow, you sure know how to stun a girl,” Isabel murmured.

  “I like to consider it one of my talents. “

  “Thank you. That’s one of the most beautiful things a man has ever said to me.”

  “While I’m grateful to oblige, you should have heard it a lot more by now.”

  She took a long gulp of her wine. “You really want me to go to Barrett’s wedding with you?”

  “Yes. Not only would I enjoy hanging out with you, it would save me from my mother trying to fix me up.”

  Tilting her head, Isabel said, “But what if she introduces you to the one?”

  She had no idea—no fucking idea how incredible she was. She had no idea how completely captivated I was by her, that every intelligent and insightful word she said left me in awe, that I watched her body every moment I could wishing I could touch, kiss, and worship her. She had no idea that even if my mother tried to introduce me to someone, my eyes wouldn’t stray from the beauty I saw during the day at work and at night in my dreams, no idea I was pretty sure I was sitting across from the one but didn’t have the balls to tell her.