That little word—sir—has my cock twitching in my slacks. I’ve never been one to enjoy any sort of honorifics, but coming from her, it’s different. After she teasingly called me Daddy Isaac last night, it took everything in me to not fist my cock in the shower this morning as I replayed it in my head.
Ignoring her comment, I take a deep breath and adjust myself before responding.
Order a side salad or soup, whatever pasta sounds good, and a slice of tiramisu. I’ll talk to you later, Livy.
I quickly exit out of the text app to avoid read receipts and make my way to the press awaiting my announcement.
After meeting with James and a few others from the communications team, I approach the podium, there are more outlets than usual, some without professional cameras. My guess is my social media manager has invited a few influencers or smaller newspapers. The more the merrier.
“Thank you for coming on such short notice,” I begin. “This will be a brief announcement. As many of you have seen, the newly-elected Governor of California is making waves, bringing attention to something we here in Canada have been working to address for a long time. We’ve made major strides in battling food insecurity in school-aged children, but we need to do more. Canada will be hosting a summit here in Ottawa early next year, including experts to discuss the issue on an international level. I’d like to personally thank Governor-elect Harris for shining light on the matter. While she had no intention of making service to her local community public, I’m grateful that attention was brought to the issue. At the proposed summit, we’ll have an opportunity to meet with fellow leaders about a massive deficit many face daily. Food is a basic necessity, and no one here in Canada should go without. We’ll be making informed, data-driven decisions regarding policy once we’ve met with the experts. It’s always assumed that social media is a dark place, but thanks to Ms. Harris, I can confidently say the world watching what unfolded was the best thing for Canada and our neighbors.”
“The Prime Minister will now take questions,” Joyce announces, calling on a woman in a navy suit.
“Thank you. Christina Jones with News 7. Do you have any comment on your previous relationship with Governor-elect Harris?”
“Anyone with access to the internet could find we briefly dated in college. Ms. Harris is a remarkable woman, but we do not currently have a romantic relationship.” Saying it out loud is like a stab to my gut. If it were up to me, she’d be by my side as my wife while we announced this together.
“Follow-up. Will she be in attendance at this proposed summit?”
“We intend to extend an official invitation to Ms. Harris and her team in the coming months once she’s been sworn in,” I reply as succinctly as possible, trying to keep my emotions at bay.
The press would’ve figured out that we dated in college, and Livy deserved the credit—it’s truly the most logical response to the questions this evening. There are no less than ten additional questions about the logistics and guest list of the conference, and thankfully Joyce can sense when we need to pull the plug.
We leave the press pool, and Joyce passes me notes to review, in addition to an interview schedule for the next few days. I wrap up a few things in my office, and once I’m home, I finally check my phone, finding a missed call from my favorite person. I quickly return it, loving how it only rings once before Livy curtly answers, “Mr. Prime Minister, what the hell was that?”
“Good evening, Ms. Harris.” A wide grin tilts my lips as I kick off my shoes. “I told you that you’d call. Has your dinner arrived? Mine should be here shortly.”
“Answer the question, Isaac,” she huffs, and there’s a rustling in the background.
“What are you upset about? Me giving you credit or admitting you and I were together?”
Livy sighs, taking several seconds before replying, “Neither.”
“And dinner?”
“Just arrived.”
“That’s my girl.” My mild praise earns me a small chuckle. “You better be eating more than a fistful of almonds for dinner.”
“I am. I ordered out from one of my favorite restaurants—Divine. It’s not an Italian restaurant, but they make an incredible Alfredo sauce, so I ordered it with chicken. What did you get?”
“Same, but instead of chicken, I ordered salmon.” Opening up the to-go bag, I pull out a serving of pasta and the fish.
“In the pasta?”
“No.” Propping the phone onto the counter, I click the video button. When she answers, I struggle to breathe; she’s so fucking beautiful. Same bright brown eyes and little wrinkles that form at the edge of them when she smiles. I’d give anything to reach through the phone and pull her into my arms. “See. Side salad, salmon, and a penne with Alfredo.” I adjust my glasses, then lift my dinner until it’s in view.
“Damn, that’s hot.” Olivia covers her face, squealing, “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”
I wait for her to glance up before I make a show of adjusting my glasses again. “The food or the glasses?” She bites her lip to hide her smile, looking away from the phone for a moment. Again, I wait for her attention. Without second thought, I admit, “I miss you, Livy.”
Sadness etches into her features, but she quickly blinks it away. “I miss you too, which is why I’m not sure if we can be friends.”
“Why not?” My brows pinch as I busy myself plating my dinner.
“Do you remember the first day we met?”
“Have a bite to eat, and I’ll tell you what I remember,” I counter.
