A Second Wave-The Surge

Chapter 14-Simon

Chapter 14

Simon

Once outside the warm breeze that I imagined hits my body, warming me. Inside the car, it is even warmer. The strong, Florida sun makes the seat hot. Next time I will have to remember not to get a rental car with a dark interior. The air conditioning comes on cold very quickly and I adjust the temperature to a comfortable level. Worst thing I need for this interview is to have sweat pouring down my face. The address for the interview I input into the car's GPS and it instructs that I am only fifteen minutes away.

On the main road traffic is busy. Driving in Florida is so different than New York. Then again, I never really drove in New York. Even on our trips to China and Italy we had drivers. Just like that my mind goes to Shelby. Without even realizing it, I glance over to the passenger seat as if I am going to see her there going through her emails on her phone. Her breast peeking through the opening of her blouse. I quickly look back to the road as I feel my pants getting tighter driving. Adjusting in my seat, I push the perverted thoughts out of my brain which my body does not to want to allow. I miss her so much. Knowing that she is alive makes me so happy. Now I just want to touch her. It is not just the physical attraction I feel for her. It is much deeper than that. There is a connection that I have never felt before and I do not want to lose it. The GPS speaks, telling me I am two miles away from my destination. I push the thoughts away as I need to be ready for the interview. I do not want to disappoint Shelby and want to have people understand what can get us through this.

Our treatment is getting better and the vaccine trials are started but from the projections it is not going to be over soon. Just then the GPS tells me to turn right and I see a parking lot with news crews. A security guard is at the entrance. I roll down my window and let him know my name and he instructs me, where to park. Remembering the last interview, I look in the mirror and remember that they will put make up on me. I shake my head, still not use to the idea. The car warms up fast as I turn it off and open the door, feeling the warmth again. A loud chanting blows through the wind and I turn to see across the street protesters with BLM signs. I cannot make out the rhyme they say over and over again. Even though the physician in me looks to see if they are wearing masks, the humanitarian in me is thrilled to see so many coming out to right an injustice. Our world, and I mean the whole world, does not need this right now. We should be helping each other and our authoritative figures should be examples and role models and not hurting our people. I wish I could forget about the interview and stand with them in protest. This is a matter of people who are part of all our communities. No one, and I mean no one, has the right to hurt one of our people like that.

Just as I reach the reporters' area, I see Samantha sitting in her chair looking over some papers. I take a deep breath and clear my head to focus on the interview. The sun makes her blonde hair shimmer even brighter. Just as I get closer the same assistant producer I met in New York stops me in my tracks.

"Fancy seeing you again," she says with a half-smile. She seems to be trying to make me comfortable. Looking down at her she is at least a foot shorter than me, but looking at the dark brown eyes that match her long brown hair, she seems to be a ball of fire that I would not want to mess with. Not able to come up with a quick retort I just nod. She takes my arm and leads me to where she wants me. My nerves start up and a weird feeling starts in my stomach and I am happy that we have reached the chair she wants me in. I sit down and let out a deep breath with my lips pushing out.

"You will be fine," she says, now making direct eye contact. I nod again and she lets out a little giggle as she walks away but starts instructing people what she wants them to do. I am not left alone long when two individuals come over, equipment in hand. Both of them, smiling at me behind their masks, start working. One on my hair and one on my face. Before I know it they have finished and let me know it will only be a few minutes.

Wanting to stay focus and not distracted, I start reviewing what I went over in my presentation for Florida. Numbers and projections fill my head and the sick feeling I had disappears. I am ready for this. I say to myself. Like a magician the assistant producer appears in front of me a few feet away, keeping socially distant, and waves for me to follow her. A few feet away, Samantha is standing with the cameraman and they are trying different angles for the interview. Just as I am about to come into a camera shot, she looks up at me.

"Well, well, well. We need to stop meeting like this." She puts her hand on my shoulder and flashes me a smile that reaches all the way to her eyes. She has her mask on for now. From our other interview, she takes it off when the camera is on. I remember asking her why and she said it needs to be personal. When I speak to my audience, I want it to be personal. Where have I heard that before?

"You set it up," I respond and smile back, realizing my statement may have been rude. "Sorry, I guess these still make me nervous."

"It will be painless I promise. With the interview you did last time and the information you provided, our viewer polls went through the roof," she says, moving her hand up and down my arm.

"Really?" I question with a quizzical look on my face. She squeezes my arm slightly and the tension I felt seems to disappear.

"Yes, don't be so surprised. The audience responds to you. Who wouldn't, you are handsome and a physician. I wouldn't be surprised if you were single and they knew that a fan club would start." She looks at me with the same look I saw before. Is she still trying to find out my relationship status or does she not care?

"That would not happen. What topic are we going over today?" Changing the subject to business. She looks down for a second and removes her hand from my arm. Not missing a beat she looks up at me and goes over the topic for discussion. Just as she finishes, the cameraman holds up his hand and then his fingers indicating we will start in ten seconds.

"Here we go," she says to me and just like that her facial and body features change and she is in reporter mode. I cannot help but think to myself she is like a chameleon. We finish the interview which seemed to go very well. I am pleased that we also addressed the BLM issue and the need to support the cause safely and that this is a worldwide issue and not just an American issue.

"That didn't hurt did it," she says, handing the microphone to the cameraman.

"No, I am starting to get used to it. We kept the social distancing so I was comfortable taking my mask off," I say without any facial expression. I have to admit that I am getting used to it and that I do enjoy the different aspects of this new job promotion.

"Good, as we are contracted for at least two more," she says as a matter of common knowledge. My expression must concern her as I was not aware of the additional interviews. "You didn't know did you. Your facial expression gave it away. Remind me never to invite you to a poker game," she finishes, trying to lighten the mood.

"No, I did not know. I am only in Florida until late tomorrow then I go to..." She interrupts my sentence.

"Texas. I know."

"How do you know my itinerary?"

"After the great ratings we received on your interview, the network contacted your company to set up additional interviews. So basically, where you go, I go." She finishes with a half smile but searching my face for a reaction.

"Oh," is all I can say as my previous feelings about the process vanish. I did not become a physician to be a public figure. My thoughts bring me back to Shelby and her ideals of wanting to make a difference in the world. An ideal we both share.

"This still seems to make you uncomfortable. Why don't we have dinner and I can go over the process and help you with your television persona." She pauses, waiting for an answer. "Strictly professional," she says before I can answer.

"I guess that would be a good idea," I say. I have some work to finish up and I also want to be available when Shelby calls me, but then realize I do not know when that will be.

"Good, how about seven at the hotel restaurant."

"You are staying at the same hotel?" I question.

"Yeah, so seven?" She demands more so than a question as she is distracted by her assistant bringing her some papers to review. Before I can even answer she starts walking away and turns back. "See you then," she calls out, and still surprised about the additional interviews, I just nod in acceptance.