Authors: Grayson Cole
“I’m sure,” she said, laughing. “Well, maybe now that she’s got the presidency and all of this is over, she’ll listen to me.”
“Presidency?”
“Yeah, didn’t you know?” Jenine asked. Michael shook his head. “Daddy decided a few months ago that she was going to be the next Hatsheput president. The board’s already agreed. He and I made a little bet over how crazy my sister would get if she didn’t know.”
“That wasn’t a ‘little’ joke.” Michael instantly came to Nya’s defense.
“It was, and if she had a brain in her head she’d know that Daddy knows what’s best for this company and that she’s it. It was obvious, Michael. She was too stubborn to let herself see it, and he was too stubborn to tell her until she did.”
Michael gave this some thought as Jenine went to join her mother in her studio. Then he located a phone and called Claude.
Sorry as she sounded about the entire situation, he could hear the editor in her making plans for the next day’s headlines. He asked her to hold off on her story until everything had been resolved. Within two weeks the Harrison Tribune printed a front page story of the downfall of one of the largest Caribbean drug empires in history.
“Oh, be quiet,” Nya said to her sister over the phone.
“Well, it is about time. You’ve got to admit that yourself.”
“You are coming tonight?” Nya asked.
“We’re all coming tonight. Did you think we’d miss it? Daddy, of course, wants to make sure he’s there to put a damper on the festivities.”
“It wouldn’t be Daddy if he didn’t.”
“I know. He scared the hell out of Aaron the first time they met.”
“Those were very different circumstances,” Nya said, laughing. After she hung up with her sister she sat for a moment on her bed staring at the dress that lay across it. Nya touched the white gown and felt as if it had been years, not weeks, since she had received it. She stroked her fingers over the soft satin skirt and smiled brightly simply because she hadn’t been able to do anything else all day. She shook her head, softly chiding herself over her delirious happiness. She’d been getting calls all day from friends and distant relatives. Lysette was the first to call and she, of course, did not ask for an explanation but rather gave one of her own. Nya smiled again and sank down onto her bed, grabbing the newspaper that was lying on the nightstand. She read the article again and felt the warmth ripple through her for one exquisite moment. She wondered what Michael was doing at that moment and whether he was getting as many calls as she was. She wished, wickedly, that he had gotten at least triple the number, considering this was all his fault. He hadn’t even called that day and she wondered just what he was up to, though she was sure she knew.
In moments, she stood admiring the dress and for the first time in a long time really looking at herself. And for the first time in a long time, she felt happy, really happy, and looked it…. She took a long, deep breath and picked up the newspaper and the white sequined change purse she’d bought, grabbed her wrap, and stepped out into the cool dusk of mid-December. She got into her car and took another long breath trying to quiet her adrenaline charged nerves.
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Michael ran a finger beneath his collar, wondering when he’d ever felt so suffocated. He nodded at another well-wisher and wondered how he was ever going to get himself out of this one. If Nya didn’t, what would he do? But she would, she had to.
“Nervous?” he heard behind him. He turned to see his older sister and younger brother standing there with sly, matching grins on their face.
“Nahhh,” Michael said, pushing his hands into his pockets.
“Well, you ought to be. Man, you got yourself into something this time,” Darryn remarked with raised eyebrows.
“I needed you to tell me that, Darryn?” Michael retorted sarcastically.
“Ooohhh, nasty.” He heard a snicker and knew it had to be Lysette Hendricks with her husband in tow.
Michael seized her arms and trapped her curious eyes with his intense ones. “Is she coming? Is she mad? Is she coming?”
Lysette shrugged her shoulders noncommittally and began to laugh again. Then she looked pointedly over his shoulder and Michael turned to follow her gaze. And that’s when he knew. She was standing there, a vision of the woman he had always wanted, yet so real. He had pictured her in that gown, wanted to see her in it for so long, longer than he had realized before that moment. And she was wearing it and she was beautiful. He felt a measure of relief watching her walk towards him, almost shyly, in the dress he had bought for her. That is, until he saw the newspaper in her hand. He ran his finger under his collar once more, unsure of her purpose.
However, as she neared and greeted everyone, she presented him with warm eyes and a stunning smile. “Let me just tell you something, Michael Harrison. I don’t know what it is that attracts you to writing articles about me and my family, and getting your facts wrong, but this time I think you’re out of your mind.” She didn’t exactly look angry, Michael noted. For that he was extremely thankful.
“And, Madame President, I thank you for pointing that out because it just so happens that I am.” He put his arms around her waist. It felt so good to do it, and to realize that she wouldn’t pull away. “I’ve got something to ask you,” he said into her ear and Nya looked up at him inquisitively. Michael knew there was only one thing that could make the night more perfect.
Nya looked up at him incredulously and waved her copy of the
Tribune
she was carrying with her. “Don’t you think you should have asked me that before you printed this?”
“Shhh, guys, the choir’s starting,” Lysette announced and they moved closer to the risers set up near the Egyptian exhibit.
The choir started with a slow and soulful rendition of “Silent Night,” then made the entire hall come to life with an upbeat “Children Go Where I Send Thee.” Nya could feel the excitement and sentiment in the air and knew that it came not only from the festive and warm decorations or the moving music but from within her and within the arms of the man whom she had come to love because she just couldn’t help herself. Near the end of the concert, one of the older children came to the forefront. The boy looked toward Michael, and Nya turned her attention towards him, too. He smiled and pulled her closer. The solo commenced, and the voice was so soulful and strong that she could feel chills move along her skin as she listened. On the final note, the boy smiled and bowed then stepped back making room as Michael stood on the risers.
He waited for all of the applause to die down and then began. “I’m glad to see all of you turning out tonight. It is a very special night indeed. It’s special because I have a very special request.” Then he turned to Nya and stretched out his hand to her. She peeked around her once and then took it. He continued, “Nya, first of all congratulations on your new promotion. There couldn’t have been a better choice…But do you think you could find some time in that busy schedule of yours to be my wife?” Then slowly he lowered to one knee and offered her a huge heart shaped ruby surrounded with sparkling diamonds, “Nya Seymour, will you marry me?”
She had known what he was going to ask, and yet nothing she imagined could have prepared her for the surge of happiness she felt through her whole body, her very veins. She barely felt herself move into his arms or the tears streaming from her face as she said yes with all her heart.
On an impulse, Nya tossed the newspaper high over her head and into the air. As it floated down, one could barely make out the headline of Michael’s article which read: Nya Seymour, new President of Hatsheput Industries, Inc. to wed
Harrison Tribune
Journalist Michael Harrison.
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