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“Why does he hate you?” I ask, curious, not believing that Arthur actually hates anyone, especially someone like Harrison.
“He and my dad had a huge rivalry decades ago, always competing for the same business and trying to rule the city. I guess that is a legacy that was passed down to me; however, I don’t really see Arthur much these days, so it is more of a hangover from the old days rather than anything current.”
“Arthur is great. I think you might get along pretty well if given the chance,” I state as I lean against the back of the car seat, getting comfortable as our conversation continues. This ease between the two of us is nice, even if my body is traitorous, ignoring the sane signals from my brain and making me feel things I haven’t for a very long time. The more time I spend with Harrison, the more I am starting to warm up to the boy from Baltimore.
“How do you know Arthur?” He asks as his lips turn upwards at the end, and I know he is enjoying our conversation as well. His phone rings in the background but he doesn’t move an inch. His focus remains on me, like I am the most important thing in the world.
“We met through the events I run in D.C. He has the same meal at every event and is the only guest that is ever given exactly what he wants; medium rare steak and mashed potatoes, regardless of whose event he is attending. We just hit it off and became friends. He is like a grandfather I never had, in a way. We meet up every couple of weeks and play chess. I always enjoy spending time with him.”
“You play chess?” Harrison asks, and his smile widens. It’s his trademark, the large watermelon smile that makes women swoon. Including me.
“Sometimes. It is my father’s favorite pastime, so I learned from him. It is something we do together at home,” I say, grinning back. His questions about my life make me feel special. Like he cares. I could count on one hand the amount of people in my life who have expressed an interest in me.
“So you play chess, love yoga, are an expert event manager, and can handle a media scrum with your eyes closed. What else don’t I know about you?” Harrison asks, his head tilting. There’s a playful curiosity in his gaze, a small smile teasing his lips.
“Oh, there are many things you don’t know yet, but I’m a pretty simple person.” I smile, thinking of a few things to share as his eyes stay on mine. “Hmm… favorite color is pink, and I love giraffes. I could live entirely on Italian food, and I have an unhealthy obsession with chocolate chip ice cream.” I giggle at that last admission.
“What about you?” I ask quickly, keen to learn more about the man and what makes him tick.
“Well… I have a weekly golf match with my brothers. Ever since I was a child, I wanted to be president. That was after I wanted to become an astronaut, though, because we all know that space is awesome. And I have a small addiction to Milk Duds.” he quips the last bit, and I laugh.
“And now that you are running for governor, president doesn’t seem too much of a dream anymore, does it?” I ask, because I can certainly see Harrison being president one day.
“One step at a time., he says, chuckling softly, the sound soothing me from the inside out.
“So you get along well with your brothers?” I ask, already knowing Eddie, but I don’t know much about the other two.
“My brothers and I are best friends. We are a strong family unit.” I feel him shuffle a little, something like pride in his tone.
“What about you? Siblings? Your mother?” he asks, and my chest drops for a moment.
“No siblings, and my mother died years ago. It’s just me and my dad,” I say quietly, pressing my lips together in a smile. The words feel odd to me because I never talk about my mother. To anyone. I have never trusted anyone with my family history before. Yet I don’t hesitate to let Harrison know, the words coming easier than I ever imagined. I should feel uncomfortable, I should want to steer the conversation in a different direction, but the way he looks at me has me opening up to him like it is as easy as breathing.
Like Harrison can feel the pain, he covers my hand with his, giving it a small squeeze.
“I’m sorry for your loss; it isn’t easy losing a parent. I can’t imagine it happening as a young child,” he says, and I stop breathing. For a moment, the world ceases to spin as Harrison and I sit in the back of the car, circulating in each other's orbit, not rushing to escape.
Having not had a man in my life aside from my dad, ever, the thoughts I have been having about Harrison are borderline schoolgirl crush and stalkerish, yet he is not pulling away either. His hand is firm, and his thumb skirts across my skin. It is not a friendly touch, it is more than that.
“I lost my father a few years ago. Heart attack.” It is something I knew, of course, but I didn’t have many details.
“That must have been hard for you.” His thumb continues to caress my hand, and he nods.
“It was. It was sudden, so that makes it worse, I think. Then we had a lot to deal with in the aftermath.”
“I did see some things in the news,” I admit. Everyone heard how one of the richest men in the country died and then how multiple women came out with all sorts of demands for money, saying that they were his mistress or other partner.
“I can’t say any of it was pleasant, and it was hard for my mother, obviously, but I think we are out the other side now. It is still hard to come to terms with their entire marriage being a sham, though,” he says honestly, and I feel for him.
“My mom and dad were so in love; there was just no way they would even look at another person. When Mom died, my dad’s heart shattered the same day and all these years later, it is still not back together. I don’t think it ever will be. I am sure it was really hard for your mom.” I can’t imagine the man you loved and married and had a family with having multiple lives with other people.
“It was. It goes a long way to explaining her poor behavior toward you yesterday. I apologize for her being a little intense at the meeting.”
“It’s fine. I have dealt with worse.” I shrug and notice his eyes crinkle. I like his eyes on me.
“You shouldn’t have to and won’t with me.” His words of protection wrap around my heart. He says them self-assured in the fact that there is nothing that would stop him. We hold each other’s gaze for a beat, and I swallow, trying to find the words, yet not knowing exactly what to say.
The car hits a bump in the road, and I clear my throat.
