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“Oh, and a candy jar!” I jump up and head to the small bar, bypassing all the whiskey and grab a handful of candy before sitting again. When I look up at Tanner, I see him smirking at me.
“I like your little idiosyncrasies,” he says, taking the seat next to me. “Are you ready?” Grabbing my seat belt and putting it around me, he ensures I am secure before doing his own.
“As ready as I will ever be,” I tell him with a wide smile, trying to tamp down the nerves I feel.
I am not scared or worried, but this is a big step.Traveling together, going to an event with his friends and business associates. I have no idea what it is about or who will be there, but I know this is the kind of thing he gets invited to regularly.Who does he normally take as his date? What is expected of me?
I take a deep breath and close my eyes, trying to calm my racing thoughts.
Like he knows exactly what I am thinking, I feel him lean in and I smell his whiskey breath as he takes my lips with his softly before murmuring, “I can’t wait to have you on my arm tonight.”
As the plane lifts from the ground, I open my eyes and see him right in front of me. There is nowhere else I would rather be.
We made it to Baltimore.Tanner booked the penthouse at the Four Seasons for a few hours just for us to rest and then get ready, and as I walk in, my nerves are sky-high. The jet here was amazing, the town car and driver who picked us up all felt extremely luxurious, and now as I walk around a full-size living room, I am gobsmacked at this type of lifestyle.
“Are you alright?” Tanner asks tentatively as he watches me from where he stands. He is dressed differently today. His shirt and jeans obviously reserved for Whispers, now he is in dress slacks and a crisp button-up shirt, looking every inch the billionaire he obviously is.
“This is so pretty,” I comment as I look out thewindows over the harbor, seeing the sunlight dancing on the water.
“Baltimore is nice. Connor and I come here a bit because we have friends here. The Rothschilds and Huxley Hamilton, a local kid Connor grew up with,” he explains, and I feel my throat close up.
“Rothschild? As in the president?” I ask, looking at him wide-eyed. It is a charity gala in Baltimore; what does he mean, the Rothschilds?
“Yes. As in the president.” He leaves no room for question.Holy shit. My boyfriend is friends with the first family.
“Is the president going to be at this event tonight?” I am almost too scared to hear the answer. Not because I don’t like him. I mean, he is a nice president from all accounts, but me swanning around at an event where the president is in attendance. Fiona is going to wet her pants when I tell her.
“Yes. Him and all his family. It is their foundation we are raising money for. A literacy program,” Tanner explains as he walks toward me slowly, like he is approaching an injured animal. Maybe it is because my breathing has quickened, my palms also feeling sweaty.
“Oh…” is all I can say, trying to get my nerves under control.
“Oh?” he asks, looking unsure.
“It’s just, the president and his family… Phfft.” My cheeks heat, and I flap my hand in front of my face because I feel like I am overheating.
“Come here,” Tanner says in his low voice that makes my legs move to him almost automatically. He reaches forme and pulls me into his arms, securing me to his chest, and I immediately relax.
“What if I say the wrong thing or, like, trip over my heels or something? I have been wearing nothing but those boots you got me for weeks. What if I forgot how to wear heels? Or worse, do I have to drink your whiskey and pretend that I like it?” I ask him, smiling, and he growls against me.
“You don’t have to pretend anything. You are perfect exactly how you are.” His words are comforting, and I take a deep breath and exhale slowly as he continues.
“One, you will look perfect. You always do. But I have a team coming who will dress you and do your hair.”
“What? Seriously?” I ask, dumbfounded. He said he would take care of it, but I thought he just meant a dress. I practically packed an entire hair salon and makeup counter in my bag because I had no idea what I needed.
“Two. The president is just a normal guy. One of my good friends. He won’t care if you fall over or say the wrong thing. In fact, I think you and his wife will actually get along very well.”
While I obviously don’t know her, I have seen the first lady in the media, and she is someone whom I would love to meet.
“And what’s three?” I ask him, and he looks at me, confused.
“Three?”
“Yeah, you had one and two, but what is three. These things usually come in threes, so what is your three?” I ask, and he chuckles.
“And three… we have a few hours to kill before anyone gets here, so I think we should go and rest. Maybe take a nap?”
My body relaxes even more with that idea now planted.
