Twitter Girl. Nic Tatano
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are catching fire.
“There’s that wit we need for the campaign!” he says, obviously not realizing I was being literal with one of the oldest bar pickup lines. He lets go of my hands and gestures to the chairs in front of his desk. “Please, Cassidy, have a seat.”
I sit down next to Frank as I take in this forty-three year old vision of masculinity. Becker is about six-four, slender with broad shoulders revealed by a tailored white shirt, an angles and planes face framed by thick black hair, a lock of which cascades over his forehead. The rolled up sleeves reveal sinewy, buffed forearms. A warm smile makes me feel like I’m the only one in the room. That smile, I can see, could easily melt a heart. The twinkle in his eyes makes him somehow incredibly handsome and unbelievably cute at the same time. A quick look at his slacks as he sits down confirms my suspicion that you could probably bounce quarters off his ass. He’ll probably moonlight as a Chippendale when he’s done leading the free world.
“So,” he says, as he adjusts his chair, “this is the woman with two hundred thousand more followers than I have. Maybe you should be running instead of me.”
“Yeah, but you’ve probably got more support in Mississippi.”
“Hey, six electoral votes aren’t gonna kill us. Look, I thought your tweet about the tornado was funny as hell and it was bullshit that you got fired, especially considering what really happened. But the network’s loss is our gain.”
“I’m happy the way things worked out. I can’t thank you enough for bringing me on board.”
“You’re going to be a unique asset, our secret weapon. Though after today it’s not going to be much of a secret. Nothing stays quiet on the Internet for long.”
“I’ve given her the basics of what we’re looking for,” says Frank. “But I know you’ve got some ideas of your own.”
“Right. Cassidy, you’ll be here about half the time working with our strategy team, and the other half you’ll be traveling with me. For instance, we’ve got the first debate in Iowa on Thursday and I want you in place with a laptop next to Frank. He knows the other candidates like the back of his hand and can help you push their buttons. It will be great to tweak the other guys during the debate the moment they make a gaffe or say anything that gives you an opportunity for a comeback.”
“Well, I was blessed with a quick wit.”
“Not just a quick wit, but a snarky one,” says Becker. “Some of your tweets were downright wicked and devastating. What was that one you had about the New York City Mayor shoveling his own driveway?”
“Politicians are used to shoveling something of a different color.”
Becker nods and smiles. “A classic. Anyway I want you to take the gloves off. Nothing is sacred.”
“Well, I don’t want to tweet anything that will come back to bite you. You guys need to let me know if I’m about to cross the line.”
“You let me worry about that.” He turns to Frank. “Did you tell her about the other part?”
Other part?
Frank shakes his head. “Figured it would be better coming from you.”
Uh-oh. My smile fades as my face tightens. “There something I should know about?”
Becker notices my worried look. “Oh, it’s nothing bad. Just that if I do become the next President, there will be a position for you in my administration.”
I exhale my worry and my adrenaline spikes.
I could end up working at the White House.
Of course, there’s one position I really want at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, and it’s not a job.
***
By four o’clock I’d been introduced to nearly everyone in the campaign. “I saved the best of our office staff for last,” says Frank as we walk past the Senator’s office. “Get ready to meet the smartest guy in the building,”
“Shhhh!” I cock my head toward Will Becker’s door. “The Senator—”
“Hell, even Becker will admit Tyler Garrity is the Stephen Hawking of politics. The Senator prides himself in hiring people who are brighter than he is. But Tyler is off the charts smart. We’re talking genius territory.”
“Sounds like a guy I wanna get to know.”
“Well, brace yourself, he’s quite a unique character.” Frank stops at a closed door and turns to face me. “This is the war room. Now, one thing you need to know about Tyler. He has a medical condition, some sort of rare fatigue syndrome, that only allows him to work every other day. Monday, Wednesday and Friday. And traveling wipes him out, he gets horrible jet lag, so Becker keeps him fresh here in New York. But even working on a limited basis, what we get from him is pure gold. Anyway, he doesn’t mind talking about his health, so you don’t have to tiptoe around him.”
“Sounds like my brother.”
Frank opens the door and leads me into a long rectangular room without a single window but with light provided by about a dozen flat screens that take up one wall, each tuned to a different channel. I see a guy in his mid-thirties opposite the monitors totally focused on a laptop. “Tyler, someone I want you to meet.”
The man is furiously typing something, locked in on the screen, and doesn’t look up. “Give me ten seconds.” He finishes banging the keyboard and hits one key with a flourish, then looks up and closes the laptop. “Done. Ah, I see Twitter Girl has arrived!”
He gets up and moves toward me bringing an incredibly bright smile. Tyler Garrity definitely has that boy-next-door thing going, with tousled dark brown hair and a matching two-day growth contrasted by deep-set olive green eyes. He sorta reminds me of Bradley Cooper. He extends his hand and I shake it. I tower over him as he’s not very tall, maybe five-nine, and slender. Still, he’s a seriously cute little thing. “Pleasure to meet you, Tyler.”
“Pleasure’s mine, T.G.”
I furrow my brow. “Huh?”
“T.G. You know, Twitter Girl.”
“Oh, right.”
“Tyler likes calling people by initials. Or nicknames,” says Frank.
“You got it, Viper,” he says.
I turn to Frank and raise one eyebrow. “Viper?”
He shrugs. “What can I say? I’m not exactly the warm and fuzzy type.”
Tyler pulls out the chair next to his. “Have a seat, T.G. You need coffee, soda, juice? I’ve got bagels, donuts, croissants, every kind of chocolate you can imagine—”
“I can always go for a chocolate bar,” I say as I sit down and he pushes in the chair. Hmmm. Gentleman. I usually only get this in an expensive restaurant.
“I’ll leave you two to get started,” says Frank, who leaves the room and closes the door.
Tyler opens a drawer on a credenza, pulls out a candy bar and hands it to me. “You look like a Dove bar kinda girl.”
“Very perceptive.”
He sits down and shoves his laptop out of the way as he swivels his chair to face me, wide-eyed with a look of excitement. “Well, your reputation precedes you. I must say I absolutely loved your tweets and cannot tell you how excited I am to have you on the team. I’ve been a fan for a long time.”
I start unwrapping the candy. “Well, that’s very kind of you to say. I’m excited to be here.”
“So, did Frank tell you what I do?”
“He basically told me you should be designing rockets for NASA or building a time machine.”
Tyler leans back and laughs