“But why? Because the press is stirring up their usual silliness?”
“Because there have been threats, Gina,” Dutch said, pulling her closer against him. Liz looked away.
“The Secret Service briefed us on those,” Gina said, noticing Liz’s reaction. “Remember?”
“I know. But I’m still concerned.”
Gina looked at Dutch. That worried look on his face wasn’t about the fact that she had caught a woman on his lap, but because of his concern for her. She leaned against him and wrapped her arms around him.
“I’m all right, Dutch.”
“I just want to overreact a little, okay?” He kissed her on her cheek. “Will you let me handle this, babe?”
“But is it really necessary?”
“Probably not,” Dutch admitted. “But until I can say certainly not, I’ll feel better if Liz was around.”
Around me or around you, Gina wanted to ask. But she didn’t. Dutch, she knew, wasn’t that kind of man.
But this Liz person, she thought, as she looked over at Liz, easily seemed to be that kind of woman. Dutch trusted her, she had that in her favor, but somehow Gina wasn’t entirely convinced. A woman as great looking as this one had to feel as if she was entitled to the best. And Dutch, no matter how you sliced it, was the best. Which meant, Gina thought warily, that this new addition to her staff was going to be a blessing, or quite the curse.
“Have you accepted the president’s offer?” Gina asked Liz pointblank, finding it odd that a woman of her supposed stature would want to work on a First Lady’s staff.
“Yes,” Liz said without hesitation, causing Dutch to look at her admiringly.
“Why?” Gina wanted to know.
“Because the president asked me.”
Gina wanted to get snippy and say something like, oh and if the president asks you to jump off a bridge, you’d do that too? But she couldn’t go there. This woman hadn’t done a thing to her. The fact that she was beautiful and had been caught sitting on her husband’s lap wasn’t that woman’s fault. Dutch bought her here. Dutch allowed her to sit on his lap. Dutch seemed to trust her with his life, whereas Gina wasn’t sure if she could trust her as far as she could throw her.
But Gina trusted Dutch.
“Welcome aboard,” she said to Liz, digging deep and finding just the right smile to make it clear to this new addition that there was not now or ever would be any daylight between her and her husband.
“Thank-you,” Liz said, digging deep to smile too.
“Thanks for having dinner with me,” Christian said to LaLa as they relaxed at a table within a busy K Street restaurant.
“You don’t have to thank me, Chris, geez. I enjoy your company, you know I do.”
“But?” Christian said.
“No but. I enjoy your company very much.”
“If I was older, would you date me?”
LaLa smiled. “In a heartbeat.”
“So why can’t you date me now? Just because I’m in my twenties and not my thirties? How weird is that?”
“It’s not weird, Christian. It’s just a fact. You’re nice and kind and smart and cute as a button.”
“But you prefer an old man?”
LaLa laughed, grabbed her paper towel and tossed it at him. He smiled. “I prefer somebody my own age, yes, alright? Satisfied?”
“She admits it finally,” he proclaimed.
Across the room, near the back, Crader McKenzie doused the ash off of his cigarette and sipped from his glass of wine and watched LaLa laugh it up with some handsome young man who seemed enamored with her. Crader could understand why. There was something about that female. He couldn’t just look at her and say what. But something, he thought, staring at her.
But he had enough on his plate, he thought again as he stood up, tossed a hundred dollar bill on the table, and moved to leave. But he looked at LaLa again, as she leaned her head back laughing that high-pitched laugh of hers, and he couldn’t resist. He had to see her up close and personal again.
He walked over to the table, his entire focus on LaLa. Christian, who was laughing along with his friend, was the first to see him.
“Senator McKenzie,” he said as he moved to rise. As soon as LaLa heard his name, her heart pounded.
“Keep your seat, son,” Crader said, touching Christian on the shoulder. “Christopher right?”
“Christian,” Christian said with a smile.
“Right,” Crader said as he looked at LaLa. “And I know your name.”
“How are you, Senator?”
“Crader, remember?”
“Crader. How are you?”
“Good. You guys wrapping up or---”
“Yes, we’ve eaten,” she said, looking down at the half-eaten plates of food. When she looked back up, she could see Crader’s eyes on the swell of her breasts.
“So,” Crader said, looking back up, “just being lazy then?”
Christian smiled. “I wouldn’t say that, sir.”
“I would,” LaLa said, standing to her feet. “And it’s time we give these people back their chairs.”
LaLa suddenly found herself within inches of Crader. Crader, too, got a start from her nearness. She reached for her jacket. Although Christian had planned to help her into her jacket himself, he never got the chance. Crader had already taken it from her, and was putting it on.
She turned around as he helped her into her jacket, as she felt his hand slid down her arms once the jacket was on. When she turned back around and saw such a warm gleam in his eyes, she smiled.
“Ready?” he asked and they all headed out of the restaurant, with Crader bringing up the rear.
He took advantage of his position and took a careful look at that tight ass protruding out from her well-fitted skirt suit. And the way she walked, in an almost tip-toe bounce, had him sold. And suddenly he was anxious to see that ass naked and firm and tight underneath him.
Once outside in the cool night air, the hustle and bustle around K Street almost as fierce as it often was at noon, Christian and LaLa waited while Crader spoke with a couple of his former senate colleagues.
Christian looked at LaLa. “Let’s go,” he said when she seemed content to wait.
“Don’t you think we ought to at least say goodnight to Crader first?”
Christian looked at her sidelong. “Crader is it?” he asked. LaLa smiled. But he continued to stare.
“What?” she asked him.
“You don’t like that guy, do you?”
LaLa felt exposed. “Of course I like him,” she said. “He’s a friend of the president’s. Why wouldn’t I like him?”
Christian shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t like great looking guys like that. They don’t know how to be faithful to their women.”
LaLa laughed. “Ah, news flash, Chris: you’re a great looking guy.”
Christian smiled. “You know what I mean. Guys rich and powerful and great looking. Too many women want him.”
And just like that, Christian had hit a nerve because LaLa knew it was nothing but the truth. What was she thinking? Crader McKenzie probably have more women than he could handle, women who could probably run circles around an okay looking girl like her. Even Gina had told her that the president didn’t think he was her type. Which only depressed her even though, at that time, she had not even seen the man in person yet.
“Well what are you waiting for?” she said to Christian, suddenly depressed again. “Let’s go.”
Christian placed LaLa’s hand on his arm and began to move toward his car. It was then did they hear Crader’s voice.
“Hey, you guys,” Crader said, coming up toward him, looking just as Christian described him: rich, powerful, and almost too good looking. “You’re just going to leave without even saying goodbye?”
“We thought you were otherwise engaged,” Christian said, and then reached out his hand. “Goodnight, sir.”
“Goodnight,” Crader said, reluctantly shakin
g his hand.
LaLa, too, reached out her hand. “Have a good evening,” she said.
Crader shook her hand with both of his, and lingered. He wasn’t ready to say goodbye. Which was the oddest thing, given all the women he could call in a flash and they’d be more than happy to warm his bed. But it was this particular woman that he wanted.
“Who drove?” he decided to ask, his hands still grasping LaLa’s.
“I did,” Christian replied. “Need a lift, sir?”
LaLa almost smiled. Crader did.
“No, son,” he said. “I was just wondering if Miss LaLa here would like for me to take her home. If that’s all right with her. And you, too, of course, Christian.”
LaLa looked at Christian. She could tell he was taken aback. And even intimidated by the older man. To Christian this man was in Dutch’s league, and was Dutch’s friend, and therefore he would give in for his father-figure Dutch’s sake.
“I wouldn’t mind,” Christian found himself saying.
But LaLa used to be the girl the guys would only ask to dance when all the really pretty, petite girls were taken. She even had a guy ditch her at her own prom when a prettier girl showed some interest. No way was she ditching Christian.
“He may not mind,” she said, “but I do. I came with him, I leave with him.”
“No, no, La,” Christian quickly said, “it’s okay.” LaLa looked at him. “If you want him to take you home, that’s fine by me.”
“We’re good,” LaLa said to Crader, putting her hand back onto Christian’s arm. “But thanks for the offer anyway.”
“LaLa, I mean it,” Christian said, meaning it.
“He means it,” Crader added.
This was beginning to get ridiculous. And, besides, there was something about Crader McKenzie, although she knew bothering with a man like him could either net great rewards, or magnificent pain.
“Are you sure, Chris?”
“Positive,” he said, removing her arm from his. “I’m sure you’ll be in good hands with Senator McKenzie. Besides,” Christian said, smiling as he walked away, “it’s past my bedtime already.”
LaLa laughed. “You joker!” she yelled after him.
Crader then offered up his arm. “Shall we?” he asked and she placed her hand on his arm and agreed.
“Yes,” she said.
And Crader had it all figured out. They laughed and talked on the drive to her home in Georgetown, creating, he felt, the perfect atmosphere. Then he planned to ask to come in, that was, if she didn’t invite him in. Then it would be on. He’d be fucking her in no time. He was certain of it.
But something strange happened on the way to his booty call. He found that he liked her. Not just in a physical way, but in a way far deeper and different. Because when they did make it to her home in Georgetown, and she did unlock her door and then invite him in, it was him who balked.
He knew how it worked. He’d sleep with her at least this once, maybe even a few times more, and that would be the end of it as far as he was concerned. Time to try out something fresh and new.
But he didn’t want this to end. He didn’t want to try out something fresh and new. He, instead, found that he might just want to keep his relationship with her fresh and new.
“I’d better not,” he said to his own amazement. “I’ve got a long day tomorrow.”
“Yeah, me too,” LaLa said, smiling, pleased with how their drive home actually went.
“I’ll drop by your office and see you tomorrow,” he said. “If that’s okay with you.”
“I’d like that,” LaLa said truthfully.
Crader smiled, which warmed LaLa’s heart. He was older than LaLa, maybe by as much as ten years, but she always did like older men.
He moved up to her, placed his hands on her upper arms, and kissed her gently on the lips. Her breath caught when he kissed her. It was only after he had released her, had told her to take care of herself, and had walked down the drive to his car, did she exhale.
And entered her house, for the first time in a long time, with a song in her heart.
Max parked his car two streets over and walked the distance to the Bradford motel. He felt burdened as he walked, as if he was about to make the mistake of his life, but he had already contacted them. The genie was already out of the bottle. If only he would have kept his feelings for Dutch in check. If only Dutch hadn’t rebuked him with that look of horror when he realized his best friend was copping a feel on him. If Liz Sinclair hadn’t showed up.
But all of those ifs were facts now, Max thought, as he walked across the sparsely occupied parking lot and knocked on the door of Room 19. He was on the outs with Dutch, and Liz, his arch-enemy, was in. And it could not have happened at a worst possible time in Max’s life. But those were the breaks, he thought. Sometimes he couldn’t believe how unlucky he was.
“Max, come in,“ Pauly said as he stepped aside and allowed Max into the small motel room. Jackson Hunter and Oscar Briar were also present.
Because of the occasion, none of the men gave into niceties. Max sat down, and they got down to business.
“This had better be good, Max,” Jackson Hunter said. Jackson was a Republican operative known for his dirty tricks and inordinate success. Every candidate he backed somehow always managed to find last-minute dirt on his opponent that all but assured his opponent’s destruction and victory for Jackson’s candidate.
Only this time was different. Jackson’s goal this time wasn’t to destroy a candidate, but the entire Democratic brand. So much so that by the mid-term elections, the Republicans, who already controlled the House, could retake the Senate. But the only way he could destroy the Democratic brand that completely was to destroy the head of the Democratic party: Dutch Harber. And, by ascension, if Max was to be believed, Dutch’s wife.
“It’s good,” Max said, “or I wouldn’t be here.”
“So what you got?”
“Not so fast, Jackson. What you got for me? What assurances are you willing to give to me?”
“What assurances do you want?”
Max exhaled. Here goes, he thought. “I want you and the Republican leadership to support my candidacy for the Massachusetts Senate seat, which I plan to announce after this is all over.”
“Support you?” Oscar said. “You must be mad! You’re a freakin’ Democrat! Why would we support a freakin’ Democrat?”
“I’m a Democrat now,” Max said, “but after this comes out I’ll no longer be welcomed in the Democratic party.”
Oscar and Jackson exchanged glances. This had to be too good to be true. Jackson leaned forward.
“Are you telling us, Max,” he said, “that you, the president’s chief of staff, plan to flip to our side? That you, the chief of staff to the head of the Democratic party, will become a Republican and run for the Senate as a Republican?”
Max swallowed hard. “That’s what I’m telling you,” he said.
“Well I’ll be,” Oscar said, grinning. “Does the president know?”
“Of course he doesn’t know!” Max snapped. “And he’d better not find out until this is over.”
“Until what is over, Max?” Jackson asked, his gaze never leaving Max’s.
Max looked from Jackson to Oscar to Pauly and back to Jackson. There was a time when he couldn’t bear the sight of these GOP operatives. But now they were his lifeline.
“You’ve heard about all of the speculation surrounding the Harber baby?” Max asked.
“That his wife’s been doing the do with that Johnnie Cochran wannabe Roman Wilkes?” Jackson asked. “You know we’ve heard about it.”
Max looked Jackson dead in the eye. “It’s true,” he said.
Oscar, amazed, touched Jackson on the arm. Jackson, however, continued to stare at Max.
“What’s true?” he asked, to be clear.
“Regina Lansing-Harber, the First Lady, has been carrying on torrent affairs with numerous men inside the White House.”
Oscar smiled. Jackson, however, wasn’t so easily persuaded.
“How do you know?” he asked Max.
“I caught her on various occasions. I even escorted a couple of the men into the Residence myself, usually when the president was out of town or at some extended conferences on Capitol Hill.”
“Who were these men?” Jackson asked.
“One was Roman Wilkes,” Max said. Oscar, beside himself with glee, grabbed Jackson’s arm with elation.
“And the other man?” Jackson asked.
Max didn’t skip a beat. “That’s up to you,” he said.
Oscar’s smile left. “Up to us?”
“You supply man number two, somebody willing to admit to an affair, and I’ll provide the eye witness testimony to the affair.”
Oscar frowned. “How the hell would we know who was bonking the First Lady? How are we going to supply him?”
“By getting him and bringing him forward,” Max said, looking more at Jackson than at Oscar.
Jackson smiled.
“But I still don’t get it,” Oscar said. “Even if we provide you with the second guy, and you accuse Wilkes, all Wilkes and the other guy will have to do is take a DNA test.”
“The results won’t matter,” Max said.
“How you figure that?”
“Because it’ll be too late. The damage would have already been done. And even if they believe the results, which they won’t, it won’t matter. Those two men won’t have to be the father of the child. They just have to be in the running. Which means, no matter how you slice it, Regina Harber doesn’t look real good.” Especially, Max hoped, in Dutch’s eyes.
“I like it,” Jackson said. And then he laughed. “Dutch Harber must have done something pretty awful to you, Brennan. I never would have dreamed you’d turn on him.”
“I’m not turning on him.”
“I hear he loves his wife.”
Max seemed offended by the comment. “He doesn’t know his wife. We’ll going to make him know her.”
“On your terms?”
“That’s right.”
Jackson laughed. “This is going to be interesting. But I think I should be able to dredge up that second guy. If the offer is right. Finding phantom lovers have always been a particular gift of mine.”
DUTCH AND GINA: A SCANDAL IS BORN Page 9
