by Sally Quinn
“I hear there’s a fabulous new place near the Old City.”
“What’s it called?”
“It’s called ‘The Only Decent Food in Jerusalem.’ ”
“I’ll believe it when I see it. Nick says…”
She saw him flinch then. She stopped in mid-sentence.
“Well, what are we waiting for?”
The restaurant was perfect. Built of old pale pink sandstone, it had a cave-like quality. There were half-oval windows overlooking the lighted wall of the Old City, small tables in quiet corners, everything lit by candlelight. They were given a table with a view, and the waiter took their drink orders before he left. When he brought them back, Des picked up his martini and held it up in the air.
“Cheers,” he said.
She took her glass and touched his gently, then took a long sip of wine.
They looked into each other’s eyes for the first time since they had boarded the plane. Allison was overwhelmed by a sense of loss. How could she have given this man up? What kind of jerk had she been to think that a story was worth losing him? She could feel the tears in her eyes and was grateful for the dimness of the room. She cleared her throat and decided that she wanted to die. All that glib talk on the plane. This man she loved more than anyone in the world. He was a part of her. They were right for each other. They were meant to be together, not separately playing out their pride. Was it too late? A sense of terror overtook her.
Now she was admitting it to herself. That made it so much harder. It was easier to deal with if she didn’t have to face it. Now that she allowed herself to acknowledge she loved him and wanted him, she would have to do something. But what? She had absolutely no idea what he felt for her anymore.
Des smiled tentatively and reached cross the table, putting his hand on top of hers.
He was overwhelmed by a sense of confusion. Looking at Allison now, he loved her so much that he could barely restrain his impulse to take her in his arms. He had always loved her, never stopped loving her really. Yet how could he have fooled himself all this time? He had truly believed he was in love with Sadie. Was it possible to love two women at once? Just thinking of Sadie made him perspire. But the idea of never seeing her again did not cause him the same pain as he’d had when he lost Allison. When he left Allison, he had left his soul behind. Now he recognized that feeling of numbness he had been living with as a bereavement. Sadie excited him. Sadie was beautiful and giving. But Allison’s and his lives were entwined. They were part of each other. It was Allison he loved, Allison he wanted, Allison he must have.
“Oh, Des,” she said under her breath.
“Where’ve you been, baby?”
“I, uh, I… waiting for you.”
She hadn’t meant to say it. How stupid of her. She realized a moment later that she had been holding her breath, and she let it out like a diver surfacing.
“The wait’s over.” She reached out her other hand, and he took both her hands in his. “Jesus,” he said. “What a couple of fools we’ve been.” His voice cracked.
She could see that his eyes were as bright as hers felt. She was afraid to say anything for fear she would cry.
They were both afraid of letting go.
“Are you ready to order?”
The waiter’s voice startled them.
“In a moment,” said Des, distractedly. Then he looked back at Allison.
“Let’s get the hell out of here,” he said.
* * *
“Oh, God, Sonny. I’d forgotten. I’d forgotten how good it was with you, my precious Sonny. I’ve missed you so. Let me hold you.”
Both his arms were around her, and as she always had been with Des when they made love, she was consumed by him. That power he had had over her when they were in bed together had always frightened and irritated her before. Now she felt comforted by it. It always amazed her how a man as strong as he was could be so tender and gentle. Now he was stroking her hair and her face, kissing her neck and her ears, her lips and her hands as though he would starve without her. There was a desperateness to his need. He hadn’t let her go since they had gotten back to her room at the King David. They had not even turned on the lights. He had just led her to the bed and undressed her, the way he had done when they first met at the Democratic convention nearly four years ago. There wasn’t anything to say. They just had to hold on.
Allison hurt with joy. She had never expected this of Des. She didn’t know what she had actually expected: maybe some sexual attraction, or as he had said, a few drinks, a few laughs. She was afraid to respond in kind, though it was hard to hold back.
Now he was on top of her again and he was in her and she could feel his weight and she didn’t want to think about anything at all. She just wanted him, and for the first time in a year and a half she had him.
It was only at dawn, when they were both exhausted, that she realized he hadn’t told her that he loved her. Of course, she hadn’t told him either; but somehow that was up to him, after what had happened. Though why should she expect him to make that kind of commitment again so soon? Those things take time. And Des was never effusive about his feelings. It had taken him months to say it the first time, and she had known from the first moment he kissed her that he loved her. Now she knew it again. Or did she? She wasn’t as sure of herself as she had been four years ago. Wiser maybe. Not surer.
“What time is the Knesset circus supposed to start?” he asked, rolling over and grabbing her breast.
She turned her back to him and curled up in the hollow of his body, clasping his hand that held her breast, her head on the pillow, facing away.
“Ten. But Ensellem is arriving for breakfast at eight thirty and then he’ll escort Grey over there. Are you going?”
“I guess so. It’s going to be nothing but a ceremony, but what the hell. Pick up a little color. Since it’s Monday, I don’t have to file anything until I get back. Then I spend the weekend working my ass off. God, I’m beginning to hate weekends. One of these days I’m going to retire to my cabin in West Virginia and write a book.”
“That sounds like not a bad idea. Need a housekeeper?”
“It’s essential. But I don’t think I can advertise the job description in the Daily classifieds.”
“I’ll look around for you. What are the requirements?”
“Weekends, nights. Must cook, must write, must fuck.”
“Benefits?”
“Baby, you’ve got the benefits between your legs right now.”
“Salary?”
“She should pay me.”
Allison groaned. “Time? Two years, three years?”
“If it works out, forever.”
She caught her breath. They lay silently, breathing together. She could feel both their hearts.
“Do you have to file today?” he asked finally, when their hearts had slowed.
“No. Nick is doing the daily stuff. Which is fine with me. I hate all that rushing around. I’m doing an overall piece on the Jerusalem part of the trip for Thursday.”
“So you’ll have to hook up with him at some point?”
“At some point.”
“You in any pools today?”
“Not that I know of, but that could change. How about you?”
“I’m not sure. I haven’t checked yet.”
“So we’ll probably run into each other during the day. There’s the helicopter flight up to the settlements. We probably ought to go down to the filing room and see what’s going on.”
“So what are you up to after the banquet tonight?”
She had to laugh. He was acting like a shy sixteen-year-old asking a girl for a date the first time.
“Oh, nothing much. What about you?”
“Cunt.”
“What? Why me?”
“Because you know what I’m asking.”
“Well, it’s hard to decipher. It’s just not the old Des.”
“What would the old Des have said?”
“And what would the old Sonny have said?”
“ ‘You bet your sweet ass I do.’ ”
He laughed delightedly as he swung back the covers and sprang out of bed. He looked like a happy man. And once again, Allison nearly gasped at how gorgeous he was, what a great body he had.
He unzipped her suitcase, pulled a razor and some shampoo out of her makeup kit, and went into the bathroom.
Sonny had been waiting for him to leave the room. She had been desperate with curiosity ever since they had stopped at the desk for keys and messages the night before. The desk clerk had handed him a message from his box. Des had glanced at it quickly, but she couldn’t help being surprised by his reaction. He had closed his eyes and let out a soft groan, then folded it up and stuffed it into his jacket pocket.
Now she couldn’t stand it any longer. She went over to the bathroom door to make sure the shower was on, then walked quickly over to the chair where he had tossed his jacket. She reached into one pocket, then the other, fingering the crumpled paper. Something told her not to take it, and for a second she hesitated, pulling her hand halfway out of the pocket. Then she grabbed the note and smoothed it out. It said, “Jenny says please call Lagoon.”
She crumpled the note again and stuffed it back into the pocket, then quickly jumped into the bed as he opened the bathroom door to let the steam out. Vaguely she heard him humming as he shaved and combed his hair. Everything was swimming in her head so fast that she could barely make sense of it. Lagoon was Sadie’s Secret Service name. Why on earth would he be calling Sadie? What kind of relationship could he have with her that he would call her from halfway around the world, and why would Jenny call? Why wouldn’t her secretary call? And why would Jenny use that name? Why didn’t she just leave a message to call her?
The only thing Allison could think of was the look on Des’s face at the White House dinner the night he had cut in on Sadie. She had seen then that he was infatuated with her. She knew from Lorraine that he had been especially attentive at parties right after they had broken up, particularly when Rosey was out of town. He had always thought Sadie was sexy and pretty and funny and bright. It used to enrage her. It was part of the reason she had never really liked Sadie. Because Des did. But this? Could it be that he was in love with her, that they were having an affair? It was impossible. How could the First Lady have an affair? But then she began to remember hearing people say Des was over at the EOB a lot. And then she thought about Des and Jenny and how she knew in her gut that they had never been to bed together. And she knew Des well enough to know he had to get laid. And since a few months after they had broken up, she had never heard a single word about Des seeing anybody but Jenny. Could Jenny be the beard? It was all so improbable. But then, Des hadn’t told her he loved her. He would have if he did. This time he would have. He didn’t tell her he loved her because he couldn’t. Because he was in love with somebody else. He was in love with the fucking First Lady and they were having an affair. That note could mean nothing else. It was suddenly so obvious, so clear. She had been so baffled by him and Jenny all year. Now she felt foolish.
Des loved Sadie. Des did not love her. Then how could he have done this? How could he have made love to her knowing that he was in love with another woman? Her teeth began to chatter in anger, and she pulled the covers over her head and curled her body up in a fetal position. She was too hurt, too angry to cry. She took several quick breaths for fear of suffocating. She heard Des come out of the bathroom.
“What a great piece of ass you are, Sterling,” he was saying, and she knew she had to get herself together, not let him know. She had to play it cool, but she wasn’t sure she could manage. She couldn’t move.
“What’s the matter, baby? Are you okay?”
“I’m okay,” she managed. “I think I’m having another fish attack, that’s all. I just suddenly doubled over with stomach cramps.”
“Oh, no. I’m so sorry. Is it really bad? Should I get the house doctor?”
“No, no. I’ll be all right. But I think I’ll stay here for a while. I don’t feel like getting up. Why don’t you go on down to the filing room.”
“You sure?”
“Positive.”
“Well, let me get one more look at that beautiful face,” he said, sitting down on the edge of the bed and pulling the sheet away.
“Jesus, you really do look pale. Promise me you’ll call a doctor if you don’t feel better in a while.”
“I promise,” she said weakly.
“Great.” He kissed her cheek. “You’re one hell of a woman, Sonny Sterling,” he said softly. “And you know, I really do think you’ve changed since we were together. You seem to know what you want now, and I like that. I’ll see you tonight.”
* * *
Betrayal, hurt had turned to fury. She had been angry at him when he left her, but she had been more angry at herself. Now she was sick with rage that he had humiliated her this way. She avoided him all day, staying away from several events so that she wouldn’t have to see him, and she stuck close to Nick. Wonderful, dear Nick. They had embraced so warmly that she had nearly cried. She needed to see Nick, to see somebody who cared about her genuinely. If he hadn’t been around, she wouldn’t have made it through the day. She hadn’t figured out what to do about that night until she ran into Everett Dubois. It occurred to her that she could solve two problems at once. Make a dinner date with Everett, or an after-banquet date, and have a legitimate excuse for getting out of meeting Des. It was ironic that once again her way of dealing with him was to beat him out of a story. She knew Everett was a womanizer, and with a little prodding he would probably tell her some things he didn’t mean to.
Everett fell for it.
She left a note in Des’s box that she was meeting Everett later and wouldn’t be able to see him.
Her meeting with Everett was disappointing. He knew she was seeing Ali and was very cagey. Still, she felt she had made some connection and that a few more lunches or dinners and she might get something out of him. He was indiscreet.
When she returned to the hotel, she found a note from Des in her box:
“I don’t get it.”
“And you never will,” she said to herself under her breath.
She didn’t sleep. All she could do was imagine Des and Sadie in bed together, imagine him caressing Sadie the way he caressed her, calling Sadie precious, and angel, and enveloping her with kisses. It was unbearable. She tried to erase the thoughts. But she was obsessed. She hated Des now more than she had ever hated anyone, and she was amazed that her feelings could reverse so quickly and so totally. She didn’t want him to know that she was angry or why. She couldn’t. There was no way she could confront him. For one thing, she didn’t have enough evidence; for another, he would deny it; and for a third, what right had she anyway? She would simply have to stay away from him, even, in this case, if it meant hurting her story. Today she would be writing anyway, so that she wouldn’t be doing much traveling around with the President.
She got dressed and went downstairs for breakfast, then headed toward the filing room to pick up the press releases.
The President was leaving the hotel for a private meeting with President Ensellem, and the motorcade was just lining up.
“Sonny! Jesus, am I glad I saw you,” shouted a voice, and she felt someone grab her by the arm. She turned, annoyed, to find Jay Herbert from the New York paper. “Listen, Sonny, I’ve just been asked to file an analysis piece for tomorrow and I’ve got to start writing today. I’m supposed to be in this pool and I really need you to fill in for me. Please. I’m desperate.”
Sonny was about to say no, then remembered that Herbert had given her a fill the year before on a trip when she had overslept. She saw the frantic look in his eyes.
“Sure, Herbert,” she said finally. “I’ll take the ride for you.”
“Great. They want you in that car over there,”
he said, and pulled her in the direction of a large station wagon which was already jammed. The front cars in the motorcade had already started up and were slowly pulling out. Herbert shouted at the station wagon to hold it, and Sonny ran toward it without looking as the press aide stood holding the door and waving her toward it.
“You’ll have to sit on his lap,” said the press aide brusquely as he pushed her into the car and slammed the door. As the car pulled out, she looked up and saw that she was inches away from Des’s face. His arm moved possessively around her waist, and his hand grabbed her ass.
He feigned a dignified, solemn look as he greeted her.
“Good morning, Sterling,” he said. “Are you feeling better?”
His hand, which was on the door side of the car and could not be seen by its other occupants, continued to caress her behind. She was so stunned by this turn of events that she had no choice but to nod automatically as the rest of the reporters in the car looked at her.
“Uh, fine,” she said.
The smell in the car within several minutes was of hot breath and sweat, but it didn’t block out the distinctive scent of Des, a scent which only two nights before had sent her into a swoon. She tried to turn her head so that she was looking at the driver of the car, but it only meant that his breath was on her neck, and he had slipped his hand up under her jacket so that he could reach her breast without anybody noticing. He didn’t say anything more on the fifteen-minute drive, just continued to look solemn and stroke her body until she thought she would explode with rage and humiliation. Yet she had to keep a straight face. She at least could refuse to look at him.
