Nick wadded his tie up and tucked into one of his suit coat pockets. He glanced around. “Where’s Jerry?”
“Bella called while you were chatting with the news crew. Her car died. He ran off to rescue her.”
“Great. He drove.”
“I told him I’d take you home.”
Nick studied her for a moment. “What did he say?” “Nothing. He did smile a lot.”
“I bet he did.” He took her hand and started for the parking lot. “It’s been a stressful day. A little extra time with the you is just what I need.”
Nick’s phone rang as they walked to the car. He retrieved the cell from his pocket at looked at the display. “Will you look at that!”
“What?”
He showed her the phone. “That’s the White House number.” “You’re kidding. You might want to answer that.”
He did. “This is Nick.”
“This is Operator two-seven-five, White House signal. Could
you please hold for the President of the United States?” “I’d be happy to.”
A short pause was broken by the voice of his old friend.
“Hello, Nick? You there?”
“Yes, Mr. President, I am. Always good to hear from you.” “Hell, I think I’ve seen you on every network today. Looks like
a campaign year. I hope you’re not going to run for my office anytime soon.”
“No, sir, just trying to catch my breath after a wild few days. I
guess you could call it a campaign to find the cure to cancer.”
Nick glanced at Shelly. Her eyes were wide. She kept her voice
low. “Is that President Riley?”
Nick nodded.
“Oh, my God!” She covered her mouth with both hands.
“Right, my Surgeon General tells me you’re looking for a needle in a haystack, but if I can do anything to help, I want you to contact me. And I mean it, Nick. You seem to have enough cash there to get people’s attention.”
“Yes, sir,” Nick answered. “I won’t hesitate to call you.” Shelly’s
eyes grew wider. “So, where are you now?”