President's son

"Woah, can you believe that?" Ruby asked, shaking her head in disbelief. He was actually the president's son. She couldn't believe it, and neither could I.

What was the president's son doing here? And I heard he and his sister organized this live event together.

"Woah, I should have insisted and gotten his number," she mumbled as we descended the escalator.

"He promised to call you. I'm sure he will," I said, encouraging her.

"I'm not sure he'd do that; he is the president's son," she repeated.

"He will," I chuckled. "And why did you ask for his contact in the first place? Do you like him?"

"The fact that he could hold back from slapping her despite her rudeness showed me what kind of a man he is. He is a decent man."

"I thought you had taken a break from good men. You want bad men now, remember?" I reminded her.

"I'm sure he is not a saint; he has a hint of evilness in his eyes."