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The Law of Attraction(43)

By:N.M. Silber


“I thought you might be “otherwise occupied.” He snickered. Then he caught sight of me. “Whoa! Gabrielle, you look smokin’ hot in that dress, baby.”

“Did you just call her baby? Do that again and I’ll hurt you. Badly. Now stop ogling her,” Braden said, pushing Drew back into the hall. “We’ll be down in a minute.” There was some grumbling as Drew left.

“He’s right though. You do look smokin’ hot in that dress, baby and I’m allowed to ogle you,”

Braden said, smiling and kissing my hand.





CHAPTER ELEVEN


He held onto it as we headed downstairs, where the rest of his family was waiting in the family room with a guy named Alan, who was Tyler’s press aid. Apparently, there were journalists from Main Line Today, Philadelphia Magazine, Vanity Fair, the Philadelphia Inquirer and a few other smaller papers waiting to ask some questions and snap some photos. I guess that happened when your dad was a Senator and you had a party.

We went into the parlor where the journalists and photographers were waiting. Braden hovered next to me protectively, keeping his arm around my waist. At first the questions were all about the foundation and the work that it did but then out of left field came a question from the journalist from the Vanity Fair.

“Ms. Ginsberg, aren’t you the daughter of Ben Ginsberg, the CEO recently mentioned in the Times?” I saw the other magazine journalists perk up and pay attention. The newspaper people didn’t look as interested. Even other reporters probably found that article a little out there.

“Yes, he’s my father,” I answered before Alan jumped in.

“The Senator hasn’t had the opportunity to meet Gabrielle’s parents yet.”

“Does your dad like Senator Pierce’s politics?” the guy from Main Line Today asked.

“Well actually…”

“I don’t think that Mr. Ginsberg has made any official endorsement or statement on the matter,” Alan answered for me in political speak.

“Off the record then,” a woman from Philadelphia Magazine chimed in. “Might this be the joining of a political dynasty and a business empire?”

“Empire?” My dad had an empire? First he was a kingmaker, now he was an actual emperor. Did these people know my dad? He could barely match his socks without my mother’s help. Now my grandfather, he was more of an emperor. He was probably up in heaven financing major expansion as we spoke.

“Now, now,” Alan laughed. “Don’t you think that’s putting a little pressure on the kids?”

“Their kids would be among the wealthiest people in the country,” said the journalist from Vanity Fair. Did my parents have that much money? But they were so… average. Jesus, I really should have taken the money lectures more seriously.

“Gabrielle, is your father hoping to see you married to the son of a president?” asked the guy from Main Line Today. Was he kidding? My dad would be happy if I just didn’t become a crazy cat lady. This whole conversation was surreal. Alan looked like he was about to stroke out.

“Okay folks, we’ve got to wrap this up,” he said with a smile and a slight twitch. Why did I get the feeling that nobody had mentioned it to Alan that Braden was dating a kingmaker’s daughter? They snapped some last minute pictures and I smiled dutifully, wondering if I would become one of Braden’s Google Girls now. At least I would add some variety.

We headed down to the tent. The Pierces would stand in a reception line as guests arrived and I was left to my own devices, to a certain extent at least. Alan was hovering around to make sure that none of the journalists tried to corner me and I recognized the fact that the private security team members were watching me along with the Pierce’s. That was nice of them. I guess they figured Braden’s dad would be rather annoyed if the only woman his son had shown an interest in actually dating in two years got knocked off at his own party.

I stood off to the side and watched the guests arrive and mingle. They were mostly who I thought of as “the beautiful people” although clearly not all of them were actually beautiful. I needn’t have worried about wearing my good jewelry or felt self-conscious about the fact that my dress cost as much as some of my clients made in a month. In this crowd I blended. The reception line was just starting to wind down when I heard a familiar voice from the past say my name. I froze. It couldn’t be. There was no way. I had to be mistaken. I steeled myself, fixed a smile on my face and turned to face him.

* * *

“Cam? Wow, how are you?” I tried to sound cool and collected but my voice came out cracking and unnaturally high. I sounded like a boy going through puberty.