Catherine Lewis is a shy, unsophisticated twenty-one year old with a secret. She's the most prominent matchmaker for the elite, the parents of the rich and famous come to her.
But who will give her advice on love when she encounters the son of the...
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I don't know whose heart is pulsating quicker, mine or Zander's? Mr. Nolan doesn't break eye contact and continues his steadfast gaze on his son, glinting with accusation and I can sense Zander's arm flinch next to me.
"Well?" The President asked.
"Dad...I..."
"Where's my car and why did you have to call my Secretary to come pick you up?"
"Dad. I lost it. It's gone, well stolen. I didn't mean..."
Sighing, the President finally breaks his unrelenting eyes away from Zander and shakes his head with clear disappointment rolling off him in waves.
"I should have known never to have trusted you with it."
Even I feel the sting in his words vibrating in my ears and settling into the pit of my stomach. If I felt as small and insignificant as an ant about to be crushed under the weight of the important man sitting in front of me, then how much more did Zander feel?
"I'm not a kid Dad. You don't have to display your disappointment in your only son in front of his girlfriend. I intend to fully reimburse you for the car and plan to talk to Mom about it, so you can stop lording it over me like the President of this country that you are," Zander said through clenched teeth, his eyes masking a twinge of fury.
"Fine," is the President's clipped reply before ignoring us completely and staring down at a tablet, flipping through pages of classified documents.
There's a heavy silence that fills the car and I have so many questions for the two of them but I know I need to play the part of the girlfriend and not the matchmaker. Without uttering a word, I twiddle my fingers and wring them of the questions about to burst through me.
Glancing over at Zander through the corner of my eye, I notice the furrowed brows haven't uncreased and he's sulking but not out of petulance, but as the twenty four year-old that he is, hurt at not even being given the chance to explain himself and dangling on a tightrope of a thin line between respect and disrespect.
Just when I think the silence is about to borderline unbearable and my mind sick of counting Hectors, cactuses, and cupcakes in my head, we arrive at the apartment complex and wordlessly step out of the car before it speeds away.
Finally releasing a shaky breath, I turn to Zander who has one of his many innocent wide-eyed stares.
"What?" I asked, confused by the uneasiness of his stance and continue in a light tone, "seriously what? It's not like you lost my car."
"It's not about the car, Cat. That's an easy fix and between me and my Mom since Dad has made it clear he's too upset to discuss things with me. I guess, I'm sorry."
"For what?"
"For him ignoring you."
I'm slightly shocked by this since I didn't feel ignored, in fact, if I was ignored then I felt wholeheartedly good about it. I don't think any woman dating the President's son would want to feel his wrathful stare on them since all things considered, I was as equally responsible for the car being stolen.
