A woman with long, dark hair and sloe eyes peered over the rim of her cubicle. Were going to Nathans for happy hour. It went without saying that Honey was invited.
I cant go tonight. Im beat. Honey reached for her purse.
The woman stood on tiptoe to peer over her shoulder as though expecting to see the real Honey Evans lurking somewhere behind this imposter. You never get beat.
I do when I fly in from Europe late one night and land at my desk the next morning.
The co-worker left, disgruntled, and Honey plucked a thin envelope from her purse. She took the long way to the employee parking lot, swinging by her supervisors desk first. She slid the envelope onto the dark, rich wood.
Whats this? the woman asked.
My resignation. Im burned out.
From answering telephones?
Honey knew Mary Cage had been at it in this same department for thirty-five years now. It would be useless to try to explain to her that her aspirations had suddenly become greater.
There are people who would kill for your position, Mary chided.
Not many with political science degrees, I bet. Where had that come from? Shed gotten that degree under duress from her family.
So what, all of a sudden youre overqualified? Mary snapped.
The conversation was draining things out of her, Honey thought, just at a point in her life when she needed to be strong. Suddenly, she felt so sad. What was it they called it in those Victorian-era movies? Malaise, she whispered aloud.
Come again?
I think I have malaise.
Take something for it.
I am. Thats what the resignation is all about. She turned away from Marys desk.
She left the White House and found her Mercedes in the secure lot. She chatted for a few moments with the guy at the gate then she slid behind the wheel of the car. This was the big one. This next step was huge. Her car was the image she had created for herself. Did she really want to bury Honey?
Yes, she thought, yes, she did. Even more than the car, she wanted to do what she was going to do tomorrow night with Samuel Hatch. She wanted to do what she would have done on the sailboat if that bastard JoeMaxhadnt jilted her. She wanted toto contribute.
All right, then, she said, and gunned the engine. She headed for the first SUV dealership she could find.
He almost missed her. If he had taken the time to rent a car at the airport, Max would have.
If he had been willing to take that final leap and surface back into his own skin, he could have called President Stewart himself to find out where the employees parked at this high-class establishment. As it was, hed had to find a cab driver who frequented the area. He coughed up a hundred bucks of persuasion money to find out where employees generally exited from the building. From there, the parking lot was just a matter of following his nose. He had the cab drop him two blocks from the heartbeat of the nation and walked closer, following the general directions the guy had given him.
He came to a bank of shrubbery that in all likelihood concealed barbed wire. He followed it along the street to a drive cloistered by cherry trees and barred by a heavy iron gate. As a car approached, the gates gave a quick squeal, a quiet moan, then slid open relatively soundlessly. A car came through. A heavyset guy with thick glasses in a dark suit was behind the wheel. He looked like a White House employee. Max was in the right spot.
He peered through the closing gates and he saw her. She was maybe a hundred yards away, but hed know her anywhere, and he had a moment to wonder what that meant. She didnt particularly dress down for her job, he thought. She wore a very short blue skirt with pale-blue poppies exploding over it. Her top was concealed by a blazer in a color that matched the flowers. She wore dagger-heeled pumps in the same tone.
He watched her go to a Mercedes SL500 convertible in the brightest red he had ever seen, and hed seen a few. The paint job was custom. Ha. Shed known who he was, all right. Women who had custom-painted Mercedes knew.
Which should have answered his question, should have let him finally walk away. Instead, he found himself wheeling around on the sidewalk, frantically looking for another cab so he could follow her and see what she did next. He found one just as the little red car burst through the gates and shot past him. Her gaze was grim and aimed straight ahead. She never noticed him.
Follow her, he said to the driver, climbing into the back seat.
Yo, mister, what are you up to?
Max resignedly peeled another hundred from his wallet and gave it to him. The guy shot into traffic like a bullet.
She led them a merry chase. South first, then west, then south again. What the hell was she doing? She drove like a woman with a mission. Not at reckless speed, but determinedly and a notch above the speed limit. She finally tucked the Mercedes into a car dealership on the far-west side of the city.
Hed followed her for several miles. Max knew that she wasnt having car trouble and the salesmen knew it, too. They fell through the doors of the showroom when she pulled in, tumbling over one another, maybe seeing dollar signs, maybe just seeing those legs when she got out of the car. Probably a little bit of both, Max decided.
Stop here, Max said to the cab driver.
You getting out? Thats fifteen-sixty.
Hold on. I just want to watch this a moment. If any of them piss her off, shell just leave again.
Man, you are scaring me. I could like call one of those 800 numbers we got these days.
And he would have every right to, Max thought. Hed picked him up lurking around the White House, and now he was following an employee. This time he pulled both a hundred-dollar bill and his drivers license from his billfold. He handed both to the guy. Theres my ID. You can relax. You dont have to call anybody.
Maxwell Strong? Hey, wasnt you on the cover of People once?
And so it began again, Max thought. Several times.
Im thinking about when you married that babe.
Max stared at him. That was seven years ago. Thats the picture you remember?
Hey, she was hot.
Not where it counted, Max thought. Although she might have been with Francois-the-Frenchman.
Honey Evans was moving again. He forgot about Camille.
Shed gone into the showroom with one of the men and now she came back out dangling a set of keys in her hand. She left the Mercedes where it sat and waited for another man to rush to do her bidding, delivering a dark-blue Jeep Grand Cherokee to a spot in front of her toes. She wiggled her fingers at them in goodbye, got behind the wheel and drove off.
Shed just bought a car. Well, a truck. No, an SUV. In fifteen minutes.
Max stared after the Jeep when it hit the road. Go, follow her again.
She the next Mrs. Strong? the driver asked.
I dont know what the hell she is, Max muttered, but Im damned well going to find out.
She zigzagged a trail across the city again. Once she stopped at a liquor store. Max couldnt see what she had bought, because it was in a bag. Then she was of
f again. East. North, to Woodley Park in the area of the zoo.
She parked curbside, got out carrying the bag and wandered into the park, eschewing the paths and the Stay Off the Grass signs. She was loaded with money, Max thought, and she felt it gave her certain rights, put her above rules made for the rest of society. Then, as he watched, she made an abrupt U-turn and went back to the Jeep.
Now what? She dug in her purse, obviously found change and shoved it into the parking meter.
Okay, so she didnt like the hassle of parking tickets, he thought. But it didnt feel right because he knew that she was a woman who wouldnt cheat the city out of a dime.
Then he figured out why she wanted to walk on the grass. She kicked off the spiked blue pumps and sat down on a bench to circumspectly peel off her stockings. She stuck the stockings in her purse. When a wino wandered by and made a move for her brown bag, she swatted at him and showed her teeth. He backed off fast. She stood again and proceeded onward, clearly digging her bare toes into the spongy lawn and grinning as she did.
She came to a tree and peeled off the blazer. It was probably worth a minimum of six hundred dollars, he thought, but she dropped it to the ground and spread it out so she could sit on it. She crossed her legs Indian-style, taking a decorous moment to tuck her skirt down between her thighs so she didnt flash the wino. Then she plucked a bottle of wine out of the bag; he couldnt see the brand but he guessed it would be good. This was followed by a corkscrew from her purse. She opened the wine, swigged from the bottle, then fell back to lie flat and stare at the sky.
That was when he finally figured out who she was.
She was everything she seemed to be. Genuine and generous, rich enough not to care, taking a potshot or two at the walls of her ivory tower. Something cramped inside him.
Ive seen enough, he told the driver. He was ready to go, to walk away now. And then the preposterous happened.
Honey was shaking inside. Jeez-Louise, shed done it. Shed ditched the Mercedes. The monster shed bought was definitely not a sports car, but she would get used to it. And it would serve her well. Now she could run away. Maybe not on a sailboat, maybe not to a million exotic ports. Shed never really clamored for that anyway. What she wanted all she really wantedwas to be free.
Shed been to Milan and Monte Carlo and Hong Kong. But what she had a hankering for was to see Oklahoma cattle spreads. She wanted to see where the people who called the White House about land gripes actually lived. She wanted to see the Golden Gate Bridge. Mount Rushmore. Niagara Falls. She wanted to throw flowers into the Mississippi River and stroll along Rodeo Drive. Okay, shed already done that, but this time she was going to just drop out and drive there. She was going to go on and on and on, as far as the SUV would take her. When she left notes for her family again, she was just going to say, Please refer to the first in Brunhia. Same premise. Leave me alone.
But this time she would be doing it on her own. Nobody could let her down, and no one could steal the plans from her.
It filled her head with a giddy feeling of freedom. She felt as good as shed felt since the first time JoeMaxhad filled her and brought her back to herself.
She laughed aloud, feeling better than she had since walking down to the beach that night to meet Joe. She sat up to drink more wine. She figured that her sex-in-Georgetown jinx would be shattered to a million pieces once she left. Shed take a lover in Miami and a new one in Baton Rouge. Maybe a farmer-type in Careys Kansas. She would prove that it hadnt been JoeMaxwho had broken the bam-bam-bam-rat-tat-tat spell. It had been Brunhia. And she sure as hell didnt have to fly across the whole Atlantic to get away and shake the heebies of her own mind a second time.
She was drinking more wine and convincing herself of that when she saw him. Joe. Max. Whoever he was. Here. In Woodley Park, bellowing like a madman. Coming straight at her.
Hed sailed off without her half a world away. And now here he was.
Honey dropped the bottle of wine and it spilled out on the grass. She scrambled to her feet. Before you go blasting me, youre the one who took a midnight powder.
But he ran right past her.
Amazed, Honey gaped after him. Then she left her blazer and her purse and the bottle of wine and she chased him.
He stopped abruptly and tackled a man. She could think of no other reasonable course of action so she jumped on his back.
What are you doing? she shrieked. Are you out of your mind?
He tried to buck her off. Damn it, Elise! Honey! Whoever the hell you are! Stay out of this!
Youre hurting him! She winced when he managed to punch the poor guy in the jaw. He connected with the mans nose. Blood spurted. This was insane.
Would you look at what youve done? she screamed.
I just saved your crazy ass!
I am not crazy! And you just got blood all over a really top-notch sweater She broke off and screamed when the stranger took the moment of Maxs distraction to land a punch of his own.
They all rolled together. Honey managed to wriggle out from beneath them at the last possible moment. Panting, she came to her feet, her hands fisted at her sides. Joe was losing the fight now. Max, she thought dazedly, his name was really Max. Then the tide turned again and he had the guy by the throat and she still had no clue what was going on except that quite possibly shed managed to fall in love with someone whod escaped from an asylum.
Then the guywhoever he wasgot Max by the throat.
Well, enough is enough already, she muttered. Honey jumped on his back.
He wasnt expecting it and he fought hard. But he couldnt shake her off without giving up on Max, and he couldnt fight Max without giving up on her. She clung to his back like a burr. She heard Max hollering. Then the stranger turned around and bashed her up against a tree.
Honey felt the air shoot out of her with the impact. It hurt. A cry of pain popped from her throat, then she was sliding off him to the grass, and he was running. She sank into a puddle at the base of the tree, breathing hard.
Max was getting to his feet to go after him. She found energy again and scrambled onto her hands and knees. Something had fallen out of the mans jacket pocket. Something silver. She crawled to it.
A gun.
Dont touch it! Maxs voice hit the air like a thunder clap when she reached for it.
Honey looked wildly over her shoulder at him. Is there some reason you think I should believe in your good judgment right now?
Think about it! He attacked you! Its evidence or something.
You attacked him! she shouted back. Hed come out of nowhere, she thought again, and had taken off after the guy for no plausible reason. Then again, the guy had been carrying a weapon and he hadnt been entirely kind about the way hed removed her from his back. So maybe there had been a reason after all.
What had just happened here?
You were oblivious to the world! Max shouted. He was right behind you!
People are allowed to walk behind other people in a park! But this time her voice was feeble.
Then it all hit her. Max was in Washington. And a gun was three inches from her outstretched hand, a gun someone
might have been intending to use on her. She thought of what everyone had been talking about in Brunhiathe Coalition and Marcuss voodoo genesand things crashed in on her. Honey started shaking.
Hey, hey, Max said, inching toward her.
Stop right there. But her voice still lacked punch.
Honey, youre losing it.
Dont call me that. Im not Honey anymore.
Elise, then? he asked placatingly.
Kiss my ass.
Youre mad. But he stopped moving toward her.
Im overwhelmed. Then something inside her rallied. And, let me tell you, that doesnt happen easily.
I dont doubt it.
Dont kiss up to me. I was just getting around to hating you. And God it had felt so much better than aching for him. This wasnt fair!
Can I come a little closer and ask why that guy might have wanted to jump you?
Honey came to her feet and began inching backward to where she had left her wine and blazer and purse. She picked up the wine bottle. Not unless you want this cracked upside your head. What do you want from me, anyway? Why are you here?
I want to start over.
Start what over?
Us.
One word, she thought helplessly. One blessed, wretched word from him. Us. And she came undone. She cried, and she didnt even have the Brunhia water to blame.
What do tears mean? he asked warily.
It meant she had to go find Matt Tynan.
She was blubbering, she was shaking, and she was staring at a gun in the grass. If she hadnt seen it fall out of that mans pocket, she would never have believed there had been any threat at all. She would have thought Max was a certifiable wack-job because he shouldnt even be here in her world. He was supposed to be on the other side of the ocean, not tackling people in a park, her park. But there was the business with Marcus and now a guy with a gun in his pocket had been trying to sneak up on her.
Family Secrets: Books 5-8 Page 66
