by Jillian Dodd
“Why ever would you want to do that? First of all, she’s a citizen. Second of all, she owns a home here. And, thirdly, she’s engaged to one of the Olympic athletes.”
“I just don’t understand why the press is so obsessed with her. Even in Montrovia. And she seems like she couldn’t care less.” She slides her iPad across the table, so he and Lizzie can see a photo of Huntley and Daniel walking down the street, hand in hand, smiles on their faces and a large headline offering more photos of their night in Georgetown. “They haven’t done a single interview since they got engaged! And the girl rarely posts on her social media. She should take a lesson from our Lizzie here.”
“Or you should take a lesson from Huntley, Mother. Maybe less is more, and part of her allure is that she doesn’t care about the interviews or the press.”
“Well, she’s certainly running with the power brokers in Washington,” Lizzie counters. “Regardless of her social media presence, she and Daniel were at dinner at a trendy Georgetown restaurant when they were asked to join two senators and their wives as well as the Speaker of the House. It appears they were having a great time.”
“Daniel is the president’s son. It makes sense he would know them.”
“Nope,” his mother counters. “It says that Huntley is the one who knows them all, having met at various social events. It also says that Huntley and Speaker Bessemer’s granddaughter, Blair, were recently wedding-dress shopping together in London, where Huntley found her dream dress.”
Lorenzo swallows hard, knowing Huntley won’t wear her dream dress unless she marries him. And, although it’s what he wants more than anything, it seems like all the cards are stacked against them.
Lizzie was in a foul mood to start, but with each word his mother speaks, the lines under her eyes seem to darken.
“It says they’re doing an interview tonight on a popular late-night talk show,” she mutters, looking even more stricken as she’s scrolling through the photos in the news story.
“This is ridiculous,” the queen says, now holding up her cell phone. “Daniel posted a stupid photo of her sleeping, and you’d think she’d won a Nobel Prize based off all the comments.”
Lizzie hands the iPad back to the queen, lays her napkin on the table, and excuses herself.
“You really shouldn’t be comparing Lizzie to Huntley,” Lorenzo tells his mother. “It’s not fair to her. You have her booked from morning to night with interviews and events even though she’s clearly exhausted.”
“I’ll cancel a few of her duties then,” his mother says dismissively. “She needs to rest up because the world is about to descend on our country, and she will be the belle of the ball here, not Huntley Von Allister. You should also know that I’m considering moving up the wedding.”
Lorenzo doesn’t bother arguing with her, as it will do no good, choosing instead to finish picking at his food, having lost his appetite the minute his mother mentioned Huntley and Daniel. Just because he knows their day was all for show doesn’t mean he’s still not insanely jealous.
After bidding his mother a good day, he makes his way to his study where he finds Lizzie dry-heaving into his leather trash bin.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m ridiculous,” she says. “Who gets this upset over a stupid boy? I should be ashamed of myself. I didn’t even mind the photos of them on their date. They looked like they were having fun, and I like seeing Daniel smile. It’s the photo of her asleep in bed that sent me over the edge.”
“In bed?” Lorenzo asks, needing to see this photo immediately.
She hands him her phone. “He posted it on his social media. The caption reads, She’s even beautiful when she’s sleeping, and then a heart emoji.”
Lorenzo carefully studies the photo. “That’s her plane. Why does her sleeping on a plane make you sick?”
“It’s a plane? Are you sure? I thought it was—as I said, I’m being ridiculous. Of course he’s going to sleep with his fiancée. It’s certainly expected of us.”
“Yes, it is,” Lorenzo says, pulling her into his arms, tenderly running his hand across her hair, and telling her that everything will be okay. Even though he’s not sure it will be.
“You need to get up,” Daniel tells me.
I’m not sure who set up the hotel for this occasion, but they assumed a single king-sized bed was what we needed. I was too tired to argue.
“You need to shower and eat. The glam team will be here in an hour to get us ready.”
I roll over, pulling the pillow on top of my head. “The show doesn’t start taping until five. What time is it?”
“Nine.”
“I don’t take that long to get glammed up. Reschedule.”
“Can’t.”
“I suppose you’ve been up for hours?” I groan.
“Yep. Got a smoothie. Worked out. Did some laps in the pool. Ordered us breakfast.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Come on, Huntley. It’s our big day. At least pretend to be excited,” he whines.
“I will if you let me go back to sleep.”
“Okay,” he says, getting off the bed.
I snuggle my head down, prepping for more wonderful sleep when he rips the pillow out of my hands and bats me with it.
“Oh, now, you’re in trouble!” I yell, grabbing another pillow, standing on the bed, and swinging it toward him.
He does an evasive maneuver, but he’s not quick enough. Especially when I somersault across the bed and follow it up with a shot to the head.
That causes him to leap on top of me, pinning me flat on my back. I’m laughing, but his body is pressed against me, and his face is close to mine. And it’s …
I suck in a deep breath, causing him to grin at me.
“You think you’re tough, but you’re not.”
That makes me laugh.
“The somersault was an impressive move though. Mostly because I could see your underwear.”
“Daniel,” I say.
He kisses my forehead as the doorbell rings. “I know.”
At breakfast, he informs me that his trainer will be joining us on the trip to Montrovia as well as my brother and Dr. Kate.
“We never really discussed what we’re going to say at the interview,” he says. “We need to be on the same page.”
“No, we really don’t,” I tell him. “The bride does most of the planning typically.”
“Not for my wedding. I want to be involved.”
I can’t help but laugh. “You want to be involved in planning our fake wedding?”
“Yes, I do.”
“All right, I’ll interview you. So, tell me, Daniel, when are you getting married?”
“After the Olympics,” he says, getting all the food situated on the table the way he wants it. “At the White House, in the Rose Garden, with a rope, and Professor Plum.”
“Very funny,” I say, taking a bite of avocado toast. “How about colors? Have you registered yet? Picked out a china pattern? Where will you live? Where will you honeymoon?”
“Heck if I know. Fine. You answer those questions.”
I raise an eyebrow at him and smirk.
“You told me so. I get it,” he says, laughing, but then his expression turns serious. “I’m sorry I gave you a hard time about Lorenzo at first. You liked him right away, didn’t you?”
“Yeah, but it was confusing because I liked you, too.”
“It drove me crazy that you’d slept with me but not with him. Isn’t that stupid?”
“No, it’s not. You could tell he wasn’t—like, it wasn’t going to be just a hook-up. I wanted more with him. The big wedding. The fairy tale. I wanted to go slow, mostly because I knew his reputation and I didn’t want to get sucked into caring for him, only to find out I was just one in a string of many. I liked him too much to risk my heart that way. I knew, if I slept with him, I would have a hard time maintaining emotional distance.”
“You needed more time with him,” he says astut
ely.
“So did you and Lizzie. If the announcement had happened even a few weeks later, you and I probably wouldn’t be prepping to go on a talk show about our engagement. I adore you. I hope we always stay friends.”
“Friends? Huntley, if this doesn’t work out, you’ll end up as my wife.” He gives me a wink and flashes one of his dimples in my direction.
After hours of prep and a wardrobe consultation with Dr. Kate, who flew in for the occasion with multiple options for both of us, we arrive at Rockefeller Plaza. Daniel was on the show after the last Olympics and seems to know the ropes.
I should probably be nervous about being interviewed on national television, but I’m not. I’ll just go out there and pretend I’m talking to a friend or something.
We’re about to go on when I get a call from Chauncey, telling me he just met three superheroes, which almost brings tears to my eyes. In a few more days, he’ll be reunited with his father and be safe.
Thinking about that means I’m a little distracted when we are introduced. Daniel grabs my hand and leads me out on the stage to loud applause.
The talk show host congratulates us and then plays a video of our proposal. “All of America wants to know about the two of you. Of your love story. What first attracted you to Daniel?”
I laugh and look at the crowd. “You’ve all seen him shirtless, right?”
Daniel chuckles as the women in the audience hoot, holler, and yell for him to take his shirt off.
“Does that mean you only love me for my body?” Daniel pretend pouts.
I roll my eyes. “Fine. If you must know, we first met at a gala in DC. He wasn’t shirtless, unfortunately; he was dressed in a tuxedo and running late. When he got to our table, his hair was messed up, and he flashed that dimple at me. That’s pretty much all it took.”
“And, later that night, I invited her back to my place,” Daniel says, waggling his eyebrows.
“That is true. He told me we should get out of there and go get some real food. Of course, I thought that was just a ploy to get me back to his place, but the second we got there, he was ordering pizza, and I realized he really was hungry. His daily calorie intake is ridiculous.”
“What happened next?” the host asks while the whole audience seems to wait on bated breath.
“We played Battleground.”
“She kicked my ass,” Daniel adds, nodding.
“And we’ve been best friends ever since,” I say, causing the audience to collectively sigh. I’m not sure if it’s because they think it’s cute or they are disappointed I didn’t say something juicier.
“You were seen in Montrovia after that,” the host says to me. “Dating Prince Lorenzo.”
“I met Lorenzo through Daniel. Actually, that’s not true. I first met Lorenzo briefly at a tailor’s shop where my brother was trying on suits. Later, they crashed my party.”
“She owed me a pizza and a shirt,” Daniel says.
The host flashes another photo of me with Peter.
“That’s Peter Prescott. He was seated at our table with his friend, Allie, who is now engaged to my brother.”
“Making quick decisions about love must run in the family,” the host says, causing me not to like him so much anymore even though I keep a smile plastered on my face.
“Are we going to go through all the women both you and Daniel have dated in the past? Although”—I chuckle—“the show’s probably not long enough for that.”
“Daniel,” the host says, effectively ignoring my comment, “tell us about the proposal.”
“It was my birthday. We had a spectacular day, celebrating. The fireworks were going off. It felt right.”
“Everyone wants to know what he said to you, Huntley.”
“I think it’s obvious that he asked me to marry him,” I reply.
“Yet, on the video, it looked like he might have had to convince you,” the host counters.
I tilt my head and look at the audience. “It’s interesting how people try to dissect other people’s lives. The engagement was a surprise. What he said is private. I know we live in a world where everyone wants to share every second, every word, but what he said was for me alone.”
“Okay then,” the host says, not giving up, “based off our social media poll, the public would like to know what you were thinking when Daniel was down on one knee.”
“What I was thinking?” I smile broadly. “I was thinking he was crazy! We’d known each other for less than two months.”
The announcer looks at me like a shark ready to attack. “You were shaking your head in the video. It looked like you were going to say no.”
“Actually, I was shaking my head in disbelief because I knew I was going to say yes.”
“And she said yes before she saw the bling!” Daniel teases.
“Can you show us the ring?”
Daniel takes my hand in his, sweetly kisses it, and then holds it out for the crowd.
“It’s a very unusual ring. What did you think of it, Huntley? It’s very patriotic.”
“It is,” Daniel says before I can answer. “And it makes sense since I’m an Olympic athlete and often representing my country in red, white, and blue. But it’s more than that. When I met her at the gala, she was wearing a killer red gown. The shirt she stole from me was blue, which she said brought out the color of my eyes. When our family went through a difficult time after President Hillford passed away, she was by my side during my father’s swearing-in, wearing a navy dress. She drives a red Ferrari. We spent the better part of a week on the Royal Montrovian yacht where she wore a red bikini. There were fireworks of red, white, and blue between us long before the Fourth.”
I think I might have actually just blushed.
Until the announcer continues grilling us. “We’ve learned, Daniel, that you bought two engagement rings. Why didn’t you give her the first one?” A photo is flashed on the screen of the ring he bought for Lizzie.
He looks forlorn when he says, “Because it wasn’t for her.”
“You mean, you were going to ask someone else to marry you?” the host asks, smelling blood.
“It means, he decided on a different ring for me,” I say, covering for him and wondering if they will edit this scene out or if Lizzie will see it and know Daniel was planning to propose to her. “And we’re very excited to be leaving tonight for Montrovia. How many medals do you all think Daniel will win this year?” I say to the crowd, hoping to change the talk to something safer. I turn to Daniel. “I mean, no pressure.”
“Will you be seeing King Lorenzo in Montrovia?” the host asks, refusing to let it go.
“Of course,” I say. “He’s a good friend, and, well, when you are kidnapped together, it sort of bonds you. He will always be important in my life.”
“But he’s not as hot as I am, right?” Daniel jokes as our time onstage ends.
We go back to the hotel, have a celebratory dinner in their restaurant overlooking Central Park, and are just getting our bags unloaded at the airport when Lorenzo calls me. I glance at the time, noticing it’s nearly eleven, meaning it’s early morning in Montrovia.
“Have a safe flight,” he says.
“It’s awfully early there. Shouldn’t you be asleep in bed?”
“I am in bed. And I’m thinking of you.”
“That’s sweet,” I reply, moving away from Daniel as well as his coach, my brother, and Dr. Kate, who met us here.
“Not really. I’m up early to watch you on television.”
“You shouldn’t watch it,” I tell him.
“Why? Did you kiss?”
“No, the host asked questions about you.”
“I see. And how did you answer them?”
“As I should as Daniel’s fiancée. But Daniel slipped up. It will be interesting to see if they include it in the final cut and if Lizzie notices if they do.”
“What happened?”
“Somehow, they found out Daniel had had two engagement ri
ngs commissioned.”
“Are you telling me that one was for Lizzie?”
“Yes. He was going to propose when she came to Omaha for the Trials. She has no idea.”
“She will be deeply upset to learn that.”
“I know. Something to keep in mind though, Lorenzo. You don’t want her to break up with you.”
“Yes, I do.”
“No, you don’t. At least, not until the Olympics are over. It’s important that you look stable through whatever is going to happen. I have to go; we’re getting ready to take off. We’ll land around eleven your time, and I’m still planning to meet you at noon for our tour of the Olympic facilities.”
“I can’t wait to have you back home, Contessa.”
MISSION:DAY FOUR
I wake up to my alarm about ninety minutes before we are due to land in Montrovia. I shower and get ready for the day. I’m dressed appropriately in a conservative dress and sensible heels since I assume we’ll be doing a lot of walking.
Ellis picks us up at the airport, drops everyone but me off at the villa, and then takes me to the palace where Lorenzo and Juan are waiting at the entrance. I’m transferred to the royal limo, where I’m excited to find Admiral Philipe Lamonte, joint chief of the Montrovian armed forces, and covert agents William Gallagher and Gabriel Lavon.
“Is there a reason you’re all touring with me?” I ask.
“We thought it would be a good idea if we went together. General Agueda went out on his own earlier in the week. I didn’t mention the grain,” Admiral Lamonte says, “just asked for a report on any possible weaknesses in the plan versus a list of terroristic scenarios. He’s given his side of the military’s full backing, and he assures us that the security in place is foolproof. While the man does have a very strategic mind, he doesn’t think like a criminal.”
“Which is why the three of us are here,” Gabriel says with a hearty laugh. “Good you could join us, Huntley.”
“Thank you,” I say while trying to determine what, if anything, I should share with them about what I’ve learned since we were last together. “I assume William filled you in on everything we know to date?” I say instead, which isn’t all that much. And certainly doesn’t include anything about the treasure under the TerraSphere.
