Her Man in Manhattan - By Trish Wylie Page 0,3

her the same rush she got when she thought about doing more than kissing him. But how would she find him again in a city the size of New York when she didn’t know his name?

A familiar three-tapped knock on her bedroom door snapped her out of her reverie.

‘Come in,’ she called as she stepped over to sit on the stool in front of her dressing table.

‘Good morning, Miranda.’

‘Good morning, Grace,’ she answered cheerfully when her father’s personal assistant appeared. ‘Isn’t it a beautiful morning? The park looks lovely from the windows. I don’t suppose there’s enough of a gap in my schedule today to allow for a leisurely stroll?’

‘No.’ Grace’s reflection smiled apologetically. ‘But at least you’ll be outside for a while.’

‘Well, that’s something.’

While Miranda attached small pearl-drop earrings to her lobes, the ever efficient fifty-something who had been in her life for so long she’d become a kind of maiden aunt opened her file and got down to business.

‘You have a nine a.m. appointment for a dress fitting with Ms Wang. At ten you’re due at a community project in the Bronx with time for a meet-and-greet before morning coffee. At eleven-thirty—’

‘Do you think the world would come to an end if we took a day off?’ Miranda mused as she added a flawless string of pearls to her neck and fluffed her hair into place. ‘We could pack a picnic, grab a handful of gossip magazines and spend the morning people watching...’

When she nodded enthusiastically in the mirror Grace closed her file. ‘Before or after you go through the Help Wanted ads with me?’

‘One little day,’ Miranda cajoled with a pout and a flutter of long lashes.

‘Your father would like to see you before you leave.’

‘Ten bucks says it’s a reminder to kiss babies.’

‘I don’t think they’re eligible to vote.’

‘No. But with any luck they’ll have fathers there for me to flirt with or mothers for me to charm with talk of how much I want kids of my own one day.’ Pushing to her feet, she lifted her bag and shoes and linked their arms at the elbows as they crossed the room.

It was the kind of simple human contact she didn’t stop to think about with Grace. She’d heard somewhere people needed eighteen inches of personal space but for most of Miranda’s life the distance had been greater. Hence a small part of why the memory of full bodily contact with a virile male was so hard to shake, most likely.

Not that there weren’t other reasons.

‘It’s remiss of me not to have produced a suitable grandchild by now,’ she continued in the same bright tone. ‘Chubby toddlers are always a hit with the electorate.’

‘If you start planning ahead you could schedule it for the whispered campaign for Governor.’

‘Always best to keep something in reserve.’ Miranda nodded in agreement. She smiled as they stepped into the hall. ‘Good morning, Roger. Is that a new tie?’

‘Wife bought it for my birthday,’ her father’s press secretary replied with an answering smile.

‘She has excellent taste.’

‘Speaking of spouses, finding a husband before you have that chubby toddler might be a good idea,’ Grace whispered conspiratorially.

Miranda leaned closer to whisper back, ‘I’ve heard you don’t have to have one to get the other.’

‘You do when your father’s the mayor.’

Another face in the hallway earned another smile. ‘Good morning, Lou. How was the Little League game?’

‘Two strikes and a home run,’ her father’s head of security replied with the swing of an invisible bat.

‘Tell Tommy I said “yay,”’ she replied with a ladylike punch to the air.

‘Shoes,’ Grace reminded her outside the door to her father’s study.

‘What would I do without you?’

‘Run barefoot and be late for appointments.’

‘Now doesn’t that sound like fun?’ She handed over her bag for safekeeping, slipped on her heels and took a step back to turn a circle. ‘Am I ready for inspection?’

‘You’ll do.’

After a light knock on the door, she waited for the cursory ‘come’ and turned the handle.

‘Ah, here she is,’ her father said from behind his mahogany desk as she crossed the room. ‘Miranda, this is Detective Brannigan. He’ll be overseeing your security during the remainder of the campaign.’

Though unaware there were any changes planned, she kept a smile in place as she waited for the man to stand up and turn around. Her first impression was of his size; he was six feet two, possibly three, his build more running back than linebacker. Many people would have been surprised by that—when they thought