“Were you happy at school, Madame Noy?” Dianne wondered.
“Yes, why do you ask?”
“Well, I’m comfortable there,” said Dianne. “But I’m an American. It’s where I belong, home. But you came from a long distance, a foreigner from Southeast Asia. How did you feel about that?”
Noy was thoughtful, remembering. “At first, I felt alien, isolated,” she said. “Scared. Soon I made friends. I found we were all people, with much in common. I began to feel comfortable, American, much as you do today.”
“Dinner is being served now, Dianne,” Underwood interrupted. “Save your questions for later.”
“Let her go on, Matt,” Noy said. “Dianne, you can continue asking questions while we eat. I really can do two things at one time.”
“Just one more question for right now,” Dianne said.
“Please go ahead.”
“Another to do with your feelings, Madame Noy, much, much later, just recently.”
“Whatever you wish, if I can answer.”
“You’re the only one who can answer,” Dianne said. “It’s about after your husband was killed and you became the president of Lampang.”
“Is that question necessary, Dianne?” Underwood asked.
“No, it’s quite all right, Matt,” Noy said to Underwood. “Let your daughter go on.” She half turned toward Dianne. “The question you want to present?”
Dianne was having a little difficulty, but at last she formulated what she wanted to say. “Your husband, once you lost him and were alone, did you ever have any desire for another man?”
Noy stared at the girl seriously. “Another man,” she repeated. “Do you mean for sexual needs or for companionship?”
Dianne seemed taken aback by her frankness. “I—I guess I meant companionship. Maybe I meant both. Let’s speak of companionship.”
Noy nodded. “In the year and a quarter since the assassination, I have never met another man I wanted to spend time with, except one. At the risk of embarrassing him, I am speaking of your father.”
Dianne blinked, and glanced at her father and back to Noy. “Really, you enjoyed being with my father?”
“Don’t take Madame Noy seriously,” Underwood said quickly. “It’s really the other way around. Dianne, you can take me seriously when I say that of all the women I’ve met since I’ve been in the White House, Madarne Noy has been far and away the most congenial. On each occasion we met, I requested additional time to be with her.”
Dianne looked at Noy, thought she might be blushing, and then she fixed on her father. “Why?” she asked.
“Why I wanted to spend more time with her?”
“Yes, I want to know ,I want to know how she appears to someone like you.”
“There are obvious reasons,” said Underwood. “She’s intelligent, for one thing. Interesting, for another. Also, she possesses certain qualities that can’t be exactly defined.”
“Like what?” Dianne pressed her father.
“She’s warm, she’s attractive. Then there’s something indefinable. A magnetic quality.”
Noy smiled and addressed Dianne. “That’s the very way I see your father. Now I think we really must have our dinner. Try your salad, it’s delicious. That sweet thing is a mango. We have them in Lampang.”
“I know,” said Underwood. “I had The Four Seasons arrange to have them sent from Lampang. To make you feel at home, Noy. Now let’s eat.”
By this time they were all hungry and they ate.
There was little talk except from Dianne, who continued to interject questions, which Noy tried to answer as honestly as possible.
Throughout, Underwood listened to the exchange between his daughter and Noy.
When the dinner was over, as if fearing to lose the opportunity, Dianne continued to pepper Noy with questions.
“You’re overwhelming her, Dianne,” Underwood protested mildly.
“Am I?” Dianne asked Noy. “Am I asking too much?”
“Not at all,” said Noy.
Dianne saved one question for the last. “You may think this nervy of me, Madame Noy, but I wonder if you’d have the time to visit Wellesley tomorrow and allow me to show you around the campus? There have been a few changes.”
“I’d enjoy that very much,” said Noy instantly. “It’s a matter of timing. I could be in Boston tomorrow morning, and then take a stroll about the campus with you for an hour or two. Then I must prepare for my return to Lampang. Yes, I’d love this little excursion. I’m even excited about it.”
When the dinner was over, Underwood came to his feet and helped Noy with her chair. “You should get some rest tonight before going to the school and then back to Lampang tomorrow.”
“I will,” said Noy, gathering up her purse.
“Dianne,” Underwood said, “we’ll drop off Madame Noy at the Pierre and then I’ll take you back to school.”
“You don’t have to come along,” said Dianne. “You’ve got to be getting back to Washington.”
“I want to,” Underwood insisted.
Blake stepped forward. “Mind if I join you?”
“If you wish,” said Underwood.
Then, taking Noy possessively by the arm, Underwood led the party out of The Four Seasons.
Having dropped off Noy Sang and Marsop at the Pierre Hotel—unconcerned about his daughter’s presence, Underwood had given Noy a farewell kiss and accepted her thanks—Underwood, Dianne, and Blake were driven out to John F. Kennedy Airport. There they boarded Air Force One for the flight from New York City to Logan Airport in Boston.
At Logan, another presidential limousine was awaiting them, as well as two cars filled with Secret Service agents.
Then they drove to Wellesley College.
Underwood did not have much opportunity to speak to his daughter. Mostly, he conversed with Blake, who was trying to help the president catch up on his backlog.
Entering the 400-acre Massachusetts campus, Underwood tried to imagine what it had been like when an eighteen-year-old named Noy, with her eager face, lissome body, and dedication to democracy had been an undergraduate so long ago. He decided it had not changed. Tonight there was an air of serenity among the bright-faced students taking late walks.
Approaching Dianne’s dormitory, Underwood told the chauffeur, “Stop here. I’ll walk with my daughter the rest of the way. I want a bit of exercise.”
When Blake started to leave the limousine with them, Underwood held up his hand. “Wait for us, Paul. I have a few things to discuss with my daughter.” Underwood turned to the two Secret Service agents preparing to follow them. “Jim, Ed, give us some distance as long as you feel it’s safe. My daughter and I have a few personal things to talk about.”
Underwood took Dianne by the hand, and they started up one of the campus walks.
“I’m sorry we didn’t get a chance to talk, Dianne. Blake is always so full of business.”
“Don’t worry, Father. I had a memorable time. All those things that Noy told me. They’re bouncing around in my head.”
“Wonderful. I’m pleased you got what you wanted.”
“And more,” she said enigmatically.
They had arrived at the entrance to Dianne’s dormitory.
Underwood lingered briefly with his daughter. “I’m curious,” he said. “What did you think of her, Dianne?”
“Madame Noy?”
“Yes, Noy.”
Dianne met her father’s gaze directly. “Never mind what I think of her. You know what I think of her. The real question is, What do you think of her?”
“That’s easy,” said Underwood. “I like her, too. I did from the start, and even more so now.”
Dianne shook her head. “That’s the understatement of the year. You don’t like her. You care for her deeply.”
Underwood appeared to be taken aback. “Well, that’s pretty extravagant. I still hardly know her.”
“Father, I’m going to tell you something you
may not want to hear. Especially since you’re a married man. I don’t think you care for her deeply. I don’t even think you have affection for her.” She took in her breath. “I’m going to say it right out.” She said it. “I have an idea you’re in love with Noy.”
She had never seen her father look more startled. He could hardly find words When he found them, he said, “That’s ridiculous, Dianne. Love her? My God, I haven’t loved anyone since your mother and you. Dianne, this woman is practically a stranger to me. How could I possibly love her?”
Dianne was adamant. “You do.”
“Whatever gave you such an idea?”
“Knowing you so well,” said Dianne. “Nice as you are with Mother and other people, you are basically uninterested in them. But you came to life with Noy. You were younger and livelier. You were interested in her and in everything she had to say.”
“But that’s usual whenever I meet with the president of another country.”
Dianne would not have it. “She’s hardly a president to you. She’s a young woman. She’s breathtakingly beautiful, delicate, warm, smart, very smart, and almost everything she says is interesting. I can’t blame you if you’ve fallen in love with her.”
“Foolishness!” Underwood exclaimed. “What’s got into you? Let’s not discuss it anymore.”
“If you don’t want to, we won’t,” said Dianne. “But I watched you with her, Father. You hung on to every word she spoke. And when you spoke to her, each time it was like a caress.…” She paused. “If you don’t want to discuss it further, I won’t. Just one thing. When you have time, give it some thought. I mean your true feelings about Noy. You may think of me as young and inexperienced and hostile to Mother and troublemaking. Forget all those things. Just give some attention to what I’ve been telling you. Do turn it over in your mind.”
“To what end?”
“To know that you’re still young and alive, and can be moved. I think it’s invigorating and I think it’s healthy.”
Underwood tried to be firm. “I told you it is utter foolishness. I don’t want you ever again to bring this up. Me in love with Noy Sang? It’s crazy. Forget it. I certainly intend to.”
But on Air Force One, heading from Boston to Washington, he pretended he was asleep to keep Blake quiet, so that he could think about it.
Eyes closed, he thought about it.
Much as he respected his daughter, and her intelligence and perceptions, he knew that she was far off the mark here.
He had told her that she was crazy, and to forget about it, because he certainly would. But try as he might, he couldn’t.
In his mind’s eye he saw Noy, and then he heard her, and his heartbeat quickened.
Could his daughter be right?
Could he possibly be in love with the president of Lampang?
That just couldn’t be.
But most of the way back to Washington he thought about it, and he wondered.
In the morning, having questioned Matt the night before about the United Nations and The Four Seasons, and having heard his version of the day and evening, Alice Underwood decided to hear her daughter’s version of the last night’s dinner.
Still lying in bed, Alice put through a call to Wellesley College, and was pleased to catch Dianne in her room before she left to meet Noy Sang.
“Hello, Dianne. I just felt like touching base with you. How are you? Did you get some sleep?”
“I slept perfectly, Mother.”
“I was asking Dad about his speech at the UN. He told me it went well. But you know how he plays everything down. So I thought I’d ask you. What did you think of his speech?”
“Forceful. Never better. He laid it into the Russians.”
“That’s wonderful. I’m delighted he rose to the occasion.”
“I assure you, Mother, he did.”
Alice approached the next question cautiously and proceeded in a casual way. “The dinner afterward at The Four Seasons. How was it?”
“Couldn’t have been better. I lucked out, thanks to Father. He seated me right next to Madame Noy Sang.”
“I’m glad. Did you get what you wanted for your thesis?”
“Everything and then some, again thanks to Father.”
“What do you mean—thanks to Father?”
“I mean he was so helpful and kind,” said Dianne. “He got Madame Noy to speak from her heart. She did. Father was wonderful with her, and she responded. She treated me as if I were her daughter.”
“I see,” said Alice. “So you were impressed by the way Dad handled Madame Noy.”
“He was darling.”
“Darling?”
“Mother, what can I say? He knew just how to handle her and he did.”
“How was that?”
Alice sensed that Dianne had .heard her tone and was retreating slightly.
“He—he handled her warmly, made her comfortable with me. It was a break for me. And Madame Noy’s visit here today is a bigger one. I couldn’t be happier.”
“Then neither could I,” said Alice.
After hanging up, Alice was anything but happy.
She had heard what Dianne had said, and she had read between the lines.
Matt had played up to Noy.
That stupid goat.
That son of a bitch.
Alice was suspicious now; she couldn’t let this one go.
She’d better nail it down, she told herself, and fast.
She liked being first lady, and she intended to keep it that way.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Alice Underwood reviewed what Matt had told her of the meeting with Noy and then what Dianne had told her of the same dinner.
Alice did not like the sound of it.
Every word pointed to the fact that Matt was being overly attentive to the sarong lady. Further, he came to life whenever he was in her presence. It spelled something that added up to trouble. In the last year he had been cool toward her, Alice reflected. Maybe that was too strong. Put more accurately, he had been uninterested in her. But there was no doubt he was interested in a younger woman named Noy from Southeast Asia.
It was impossible to conceive. Yet there it was. Fully awake, Alice realized that she had been too casual about the other woman. It was time she learned more about Madame Noy Sang, and the kind of threat she represented.
Immediately her mind went to Paul Blake.
He would be her best informant. He knew as much as anyone did about Noy. He had met her in the White House. He had even been with her and Matt and Dianne at The Four Seasons last night.
Alice considered how she might approach Blake.
Actually, he would present no difficulty. Alice had known for a long time how Blake had felt about her. She could wrap him around her finger. He had an almost childish crush on her.
She would invite Blake up to the First Lady’s Dressing Room next door. She would be as attractive as possible. She would dress for him. Better, she would undress for him, meaning she would wear evening lingerie.
Stepping out of bed, she showered and sprayed her body with a light cologne. Then she searched through her lingerie closet and selected a filmy, deep-cut peach-colored nightgown and a robe that matched, and put them on. Moving to her dressing table, she carefully applied her makeup. Satisfied, she turned toward her full-length mirror and practiced how she could best be seated to give Blake as much leg and thigh as was decently possible.
Reassuring herself that her legs and thighs, full, shapely, pink, were quite a sight, and irresistible to every man but her husband, she decided that she was ready to receive her visitor.
She telephoned the chief of staff’s office, reached his secretary, and seconds later had him on the line.
“Good morning, Paul. It’s Alice.”
“What a pleasant surprise. Good morning to you, Alice.”
“Do you have any free time right ahead?”
“If I didn’t have, I’d make it, if it’s for you.”
&nb
sp; “It’s for me. Try to make it.”
“When?”
“Now,” said Alice. “It’s a personal matter, and I’d rather the president didn’t know you were seeing me.”
“I understand.”
“I’ll be in the First Lady’s Dressing Room. We’ll be alone.”
Alice imagined that she could feel Blake quiver.
She walked into the sitting room, ordered some tea, waited until it was served, then sat on a low sofa and postured. Her gown and nightdress fell to one side, and her exquisite left leg and part of the thigh were bare and exposed. Then, remembering Noy with Matt on the Hasken videotape, she recalled how a bit of one of Noy’s breasts had been clearly visible. Effective. A real come-on. She loosened her satin belt, and then loosened her neckline further. She bent forward to see what happened.
What happened was that both of her magnificent breasts sprang free. Firm but free. She knew that if Blake kept his eyes there, he could see her nipples.
Well, why not? She had something to find out, and she would use almost any means to find it.
Sipping her tea, pleased with herself, she waited.
In minutes Paul Blake was at the door and then inside. He eyed her with an intake of breath that she knew was more than amorous.
Alice remained seated, inviting him to cross the room to greet her.
As he approached she bent toward him, extending her hand. She could feel her breasts drop forward. She was sure he had a glimpse of the nipples.
Certainly, taking her hand, his eyes almost came out of his head.
“Much too formal,” she said, offering her cheek.
Blake palpitated, bent forward, and kissed her dryly on the cheek. Then, licking his lips, he pecked another kiss, a wet one, and she smiled.
“That’s better, Paul,” she said. “Why don’t you pull up a chair?”
As he began to do so, she knew he would be confronted by her leg and thigh throughout their conversation.
He sat down. “You’re looking wonderful,” he said. “Absolutely ravishing.”
The Guest of Honor Page 15
