“I love that song!” Nick interjected.
“Which is sort of like how I ‘ve lived my life so far,” she continued, “and ‘All I Ever Asked of You’ from Phantom.”
“That’s a good one, too. Okay, what about Motown? What’s your favorite song?”
“All of them!” “All of them?”
“You can’t go wrong with Motown, Mr. Harris. I grew up with Doc Wall, and to a certain extent with Doris, and I kind of latched on to the music they were listening to. It’s great.”
“No argument from me.”
“My turn,” Shelly said, getting a kick out of this getting-to- know-you game. “So, how’d you get into the ad business?”
“Let’s see. I was fresh out of college, Georgia Tech, and a friend of mine was working on a campaign for a young senator who was just starting to get off the ground. He asked if I wanted to work with him, so I made a few commercials and wrote a few speeches. It really got me into the art of selling product and people. That was fifteen years ago. And the rest, as they say, is history. Funny, I still talk to that senator now and again.”
“Is he still a senator?”
“Nope.” Nick paused. “Now he’s the president.” “The president? Like President Riley, the president?” “That’s him. President William Riley.”
“And you know him? You talk to him on the phone? You know
President William Riley?”
“Yes, but I call him Bill.” Nick smiled. “He wanted me to work on his campaign, but with Mom’s health, I had to say no. Good guy, Bill. Actually owes me a lot of favors, but that’s a whole other story.”
Shelly stood staring with wide eyes, trying to figure out if this guy was pulling her leg. The truth was, she didn’t know him that well. Just this morning she had him pegged as a player. But he seemed so sincere. Why would he make up something so huge? To impress me? “You know the President of the United States,” Shelly half-asked and half-repeated.
“Sure do. Why would I make something like that up?”