They stood near the corner newsstand, looking at the piles of the New York Times. People walked by on their way to the train, grabbing copies and throwing their money to the vendor. It was like any other workday in New York City, except they could see Michael’s face on the front of the paper.
He edged up to the vendor, flung some money at him, grabbed a paper, and ran back to Sophie. “The article is on the front page. The front page!” he hissed. He grabbed her arm and started hustling her back the way they came. They were on their way to the UNICEF offices downtown.
“Of course it’s on the front page. They told you at the end of yesterday’s interview that this would be a significant story in today’s edition.” She struggled against his grip. “The subway is that way.”
“I am not getting on that train. All those people have the newspaper! They will look at me! We will drive instead.”
“Are you crazy? It’ll cost you a fortune to park! Nobody drives in the city during the day.”
He didn’t reply. Instead, he kept walking back to his parents’ house so fast that Sophie had to jog to keep up. While she waited in the car, he ran back into the house to get a pair of sunglasses and a baseball cap. She snorted at his drama but said nothing.
They drove through appalling traffic to UNICEF headquarters to meet Joanna Rigby. Sophie started reading the article aloud to Michael, but stopped when she saw the look on his face. The headline in the paper on her lap was clearly visible.
American Discovered in Squalor of Orlisian Refugee Camp
Pressure mounts on UN to move faster upon reports of atrocities
“It’s a fair, accurate article. Their world affairs reporter has a very balanced approach. That’s why we gave him the first interview. You did a terrific job, Joanna told you so.” She gazed at him with concern. “You don’t have to do any more of this if you don’t want to.”
“I do not want to, you know this. But the UN has to move faster. Those in Parnaas need all the help we can give them.” He took a deep breath. “I find this very overwhelming.”
Applause rang out as they entered the room that had been set aside for their use.
“A great start today with the Times article. Front page, with a picture. You wowed them, Michael.” Joanna handed him a coffee. “Are you up for more interviews today?”
“Yes,” he said shortly.
“Good. Because we have a lot of requests.” Joanna’s eyes flickered up to Sophie’s and then back to his. “A lot.”
March 31, 2014
Within a few weeks, Michael’s life became unrecognizable. He spent more time with Joanna than he did with Sophie, and his face had appeared on the cover of most major publications in America, both online and in print. The Soviet-Orlisian war vaulted back into the headlines, and the UN peacekeeping force moved up its timeline for entry into Orlisia. They also sent a team of consultants to join the coalition in Parnaas.
Michael received 157 proposals of marriage from total strangers in a forty-eight-hour time span. Sophie found these amusing. He did not.
They walked into the office on the last day of March and found the PR team clustered around a newspaper on the table. Someone tittered. Everyone looked up when they heard them come in, and the laughter stopped. A guilty silence filled the room.
“What is that?” he demanded.
“Michael, Sophie, let’s sit down now. Everything is fine. We knew this might happen.” Joanna moved to stop him, but he brushed her aside. He snatched the paper out from under the noses of the PR staff and examined it.
“Oh God.”
The New York Post. Page Six. Refugee Hottie Sets Up Camp with Rescuer?
“It was bound to come out sooner or later,” Joanna said. “I don’t think Page Six is an authority in the lives of anyone who matters to you.”
“I know. But still…”
The short article included pictures of both Sophie and Michael. No sources were named. The paper revealed that they had attended GYL together, had recently been spotted around the city together, and were possibly living together.
Michael’s hands trembled with rage. Sophie tried to remove the paper from his hand without success. “Love, don’t worry.” She spoke in Orlisian to grant them some privacy. “We have done nothing wrong. My board of directors has always known that I was searching for you and why. We have accounted for every penny spent by the coalition in our efforts to find you. It has all been covered by the donation.”
“They have implied wrongdoing on your part,” he said through clenched teeth. “And made it sound as if we are having a cheap fling. Please do not tell me I should be comfortable with this.” He stabbed at the paper with his finger, pointing to the last line of ugly speculation:
Did Sophie Swenda’s bosses – and RCI donors – know she went to Orlisia for a booty call with an old flame?