I first spotted him as I stood at the top of the ballroom’s sweeping stairs; his luminosity, perfectly tousled brown hair, and chiseled features drew the light from everyone around him. The breath left my lungs like I had been punched in the gut, and I tried to steady myself from this emotional tsunami.
It seemed impossible to tear my eyes away, but my dad’s aide interrupted my reverie by speaking.
“Ready, Mr. Secretary?”
My father nodded and gave a thumbs-up. “Born ready, Sam.” Dad let out his trademark guffaw, beaming as he began his descent down the marble stairs to the ballroom below, strutting in his custom-made designer tuxedo and Italian shoes. Music boomed from the speakers hidden around the room while lights glistened off the women’s fancy dress gowns.
Carefully, I straightened my tie and trained my eyes away from that spot below where I knew he had last been standing.