Hideaway

by Alers, Rochelle

“Same here, Martin,” Olga replied.

  Both women sat down at a small round cherry wood table covered with a vase of fresh flowers, a carafe of coffee and several cups and saucers as Martin disappeared into the bedroom.

  Olga withdrew a stack of papers from a folder on one of the chairs. “How much interest do you have in politics?” she asked Parris.

  Parris studied Olga’s short curling hair, her smooth olive-colored skin and her even features. Her face was plain except for her eyes. They were large, dark and alert. They missed nothing.

  “Aside from voting, absolutely nothing.”

  Olga smiled. “Good.”

  “Good?”

  “It’s always better for me when I don’t have to deprogram a person. In other words you won’t come to me with preconceived prejudices. Our only problem will be is making certain you’ll be knowledgeable enough about the issues. Both the Democrat and Republican candidates’ wives are political campaign veterans. Russell Baker and Eliot Howard share more than forty-two years of political experience between them, and their wives have been with them since the beginning of their political careers. Martin is new at this and so are you.”

  “Should that make a big difference?” Parris questioned.

  Olga shook her head. “Not in the least. In fact, you can use your political inexperience as a platform to create a new trend in a tired old arena. Politics is a lot like movie-making. It’s all hype and marketing. In other words, it’s whoever has the most beautiful face, sexiest smile and the most drama and glamour in their lives.

  “You and Martin look like the perfect couple. You’re young, tall, thin—and you know how Americans are obsessed with being thin—and you’re gorgeous. Even your profession as an interior decorator reflects beauty. The people of Florida will watch you very closely. They’ll want to know what you’re wearing and what your house looks like. They’re going to want to know why Martin married you and not some other woman. They are going to want to know everything about Parris Cole.”

  “And they’ll probably want to know why I waited ten years to marry Martin even though I’d had his child.”

  Olga stared intently at her, then said, “That was going to be my first question to you.”

  Parris had rethought the question many times and had formulated a response she could repeat in her sleep. “Martin and I had a difference of opinion, and I left Florida.”

  Olga asked other questions about her family and past.

  Parris spent an hour with Olga, listening and asking questions. The first of many briefing sessions ended when Martin returned to the sitting room, shaved and impeccably groomed in a tailored navy blue suit with a faint pinstripe.

  At exactly six fifty-five the campaign security personnel rapped on the door and escorted Parris, Martin and Olga to the hotel’s grand ballroom for the fund-raising dinner.

  The soft whisper of breathing and the crisp rattling of the early morning edition of the newspaper was the only audible sound in the room. Everyone watched Vince Daniels as his eyes raced over the outspread newspaper.

  Miraculously, the campaign committee kept up with the hectic schedule: six cities within eight days. They had covered Orlando, De Land, Altamonte Springs, Sanford, Deltona and Daytona Beach.

  The committee, consisting of speech writers, photographers, publicists and security personnel gathered for early morning breakfast, late morning brunch, midday lunch and late night dinner. All were kept busy attending mall openings, fund-raising dinners and high school and college forums.

  During the sweep of these cities Parris saw another side of Martin she had never encountered. Rumors of his compelling persuasive manner in the corporate board room became apparent as he wooed the undecided and uncommitted voter with his scathing criticism of the suggestion of corruption that had followed Eliot Howard from every hamlet in the state since his entrée into the political arena nearly thirty-five years before. Martin became an actor in a role, giving his best performance to a captive audience.

  Martin’s press secretary cleared his throat, flashing his candidate a smile. “It’s not page one, but then five isn’t too shabby either.” He examined the article quickly, a broad grin softening his round face.

  “ ‘A storm has blown across Central Florida, and what is so strange is that it’s not the season for tropical storms. Martin Diaz Cole, of West Palm Beach, who formally declared his candidacy for governor four months ago, has all of the qualifications to be a most formidable opponent for the incumbent governor Eliot Howard.

  “ ‘Forty-year-old Cole has the striking good looks of a soap opera idol, a smile reminiscent of Billy Dee Williams and the charisma of the late President John F. Kennedy. The dynamic West Palm Beacher uses the stage much like a dancer, utilizing every inch of it while his mellifluent voice sways the reluctant supporter to his camp of ever-increasing loyal followers.

  “ ‘His verbal assault on Howard and his constituents was delivered with the force of a blitzkrieg, labeling the governor as Typhoid Mary in that he’s responsible for the spread of corruption throughout the state while not coming down with any of its ill effects himself. Incredibly, Cole enumerated the extensive list of individuals and agencies, indicted or investigated, who have been politically linked to the incumbent over the years the controversial boss has been leader of his party. Cole then listed the items of his platform, policies that the capacity-filled convention center agreed would be good for Florida. Cole reminded the crowd of Howard’s claim that he’s never taken a dishonest dollar in his life, countering that Howard is incapable of distinguishing honest from dishonest.

  “ ‘The thunder of applause and stomping feet reverberated throughout the convention center like cannon fire. Many had come to observe Martin Diaz Cole out of curiosity, and left transfixed by the magical spell woven by a man who dared to challenge the political juggernaut of a veteran politician rumored to possess power equal only to the President of the United States.

  “ ‘Floridians cannot ignore this new force in Florida’s political arena, and neither will gubernatorial hopeful Russell Baker and Governor Eliot Howard.’ ”

  Martin laughed, slapping his press secretary on the back. “Are you certain you didn’t write that piece, Vince? It sounds too much like you not to have your by-line.”

  “He probably paid his friend to write it,” Olga teased.

  Vince flushed to the roots of his orange hair. Since Olga joined the committee as Parris’s press secretary, he and Olga had become embroiled in a constant battle of wills.

  “It’s still better than plagiarizing someone else’s work.” Vince’s retort was lost on Olga with the level of noise in the hotel room.

  “People, people.” Olga tapped the handle of a teaspoon against her coffee cup. “Good folks, before we celebrate prematurely about our esteemed candidate, allow me to inform you that Martin isn’t the only Cole to receive press coverage.”

  She shot a smug grin at her obviously embarrassed counterpart, snapping open her edition of the paper with an exaggerated flip of the wrist. “ ‘Parris Cole addressed a luncheon of the Ladies Auxiliary of the Daytona Beach Beautification Committee and quickly dispelled the image of being a hothouse flower who was totally incongruent to her dynamic wealthy husband.’ ”

  Parris raised her eyebrows and met Martin’s obsidian stare. They had become strangers once again. Traveling together and sharing the same bed. The warmth and intimacy in their marriage had decreased as the pace of campaigning increased. They were cool to each other and overly polite, but presented themselves as the perfect couple to the residents of the state of Florida.

  “ ‘Mrs. Cole demonstrated a command of all topics when she conducted a question and answer session following the luncheon, delighting the attendees when she lingered beyond her allotted scheduled appearance. Committee members concluded it was an enthusiastic afternoon, filled with the delightful presence of an intelligent and radiant woman.’ ”

  Chapter 29

  Martin watch
ed the shadowy figure of his wife as she leaned against the wall separating their terrace from the adjoining hotel suite. He knew she would be up waiting for him. Over the past two weeks she had been unable to sleep unless he took her to bed and held her until exhaustion claimed her tense body.

  Lately, everything had begun to annoy her: the heat, crowds, personal appearances and the accelerated pace of covering as many as ten cities within a week.

  Insomnia wracked Parris until she appeared gaunt and fragile. Photographs captured the haunted look in her large eyes, giving her the appearance of a runway model with the graceful hollow of cheeks under delicate, high cheekbones.

  The hectic pace was taking its toll on everyone involved with the campaign. Olga Ramirez, one security person and two speech writers had all succumbed to exhaustion. And as much as he tried, Martin found it virtually impossible to retire for bed before midnight.

  Eliot Howard had begun his counterattack and he was compelled to spend more time trying to convince the voters that his political inexperience was not a major issue.

  Glancing at his watch, Martin winced as he mentally predicted Joshua’s reply when he woke him out of his much needed sleep at one in the morning. He didn’t hesitate as he picked up the telephone and dialed the number. It took less than sixty seconds to relay his instructions.

  Sliding back the screened door, Martin stepped out into the humid blackness. His hands circled Parris’s tiny waist. She was thinner than she was when he met her ten years before.

  “Parris, you’ve got to try to get some sleep.”

  “I can’t sleep,” she mumbled weakly, floating against his stronger body.

  He picked her up, shocked by her weight loss. He placed her on the bed, lying beside her and drawing her into his body’s warmth. Burying his face in her freshly shampooed hair, Martin kissed her neck. “Do you want me to get a doctor to prescribe some pills to help you sleep?”

  “I don’t need sleeping pills, Martin. I need a husband, not a man I have to share with millions of other people. I feel betrayed. I thought I married you, not the state of Florida.”

  “You have me, baby. You have all of me.”

  “I only have a little piece of you, Martin. The little piece that’s left over after you’ve given everyone else the charm, wit and your grand plan for overhauling the state’s political machine.” Pulling out of his embrace, she glanced up to find him staring at her. “I’m tired, Martin. I’m tired of microphones being shoved in my face and flashbulbs distorting my vision.

  “I’m sick and tired of smiling and trying to be gracious to people who make snide remarks about you breaking up my marriage to Owen. I need a break from this circus.” She massaged her eyes with her fingertips. “If I don’t get away from the madness for a few days, I’m afraid I’m going to go crazy.”

  His lids came down swiftly, masking his disappointment. Didn’t she know that it was her presence that gave him the motivation to keep the pace he’d set to attain his goal? It was her he came back to to renew himself for the next battle. His need to defeat Howard and Russell had become a burning obsession, raging out of control. It had come down to a personal war instead of a battle of political ideology.

  “I’ll have Joshua take you home tomorrow.” His voice lacked emotion. “He’s to stay at the house until I come back on Saturday.” Martin ignored her soft sigh of relief. “You’re to remain in Fort Lauderdale until Regina is out of school. She only has three weeks before the terms ends so it’ll have to be your decision whether you want to remain at my parents’ house during the weekdays with Regina or permit her to stay with Mother, Nancy or Juliana until the end of the school year. The next three weeks should give you enough time to recuperate, finish decorating the house and anything else you feel you want to do.

  “After that, you’ll be expected to hold up your end of this cause, Parris. It will only become more fierce and ugly the closer the day of reckoning approaches.” The burning light in his midnight eyes belied his flat tone. “I hope this meets with your approval, Mrs. Cole?”

  She dropped her gaze, staring at his bare chest. “Yes, it does, Martin. Thank you,” she whispered.

  Martin gathered her close, feeling alone and empty even before her departure. Their marriage had become one of convenience and betrayal. She was right. He had betrayed her. He needed her; he needed her so much; but more than that he loved her. He held her until her breathing deepened and she fell asleep.

  You’ve used her. The three words attacked him relentlessly until he clenched his teeth to stop his denial from spewing out. The three words continued to haunt while he slept and taunted him the following morning long after Parris had returned to Fort Lauderdale.

  Parris watched the fast moving cumulus clouds race across the bright blue sky as a strong breeze from the ocean cooled her moist skin. After two days of rain the sky brightened with sunshine and warmth. She dangled her bare feet in the warm pool water, leaning back on her hands and enjoying the cooling air. The stiff fronds of the overhead palm trees caught the wind and bowed majestically from their towering height.

  “We’re finished, ma’am.”

  Parris was reluctant to look at the man who supervised the landscaping crew. A large prominent vein throbbed visibly under the pale flesh stretched across his forehead. She finally stared at him until he looked away, seemingly embarrassed by her obvious repulsion.

  Joshua watched Parris watching the man. “Send the bill to Martin Cole,” he said.

  “Will do, sir.” The landscaper nodded at Joshua and walked back to his truck and crew.

  Joshua sat down beside Parris, examining her intently. “Is something wrong?”

  “That man,” she said quietly.

  “What about him?”

  She shivered despite the heat. “He was staring at me.” A shiver of panic swept through her as fearful images of her abduction came back to haunt her. “Every time I came out of the house I found him standing there, not doing anything. I tried to ignore him but he kept watching me.”

  “Have you ever seen him before?”

  She shook her head slowly. He couldn’t be the man who had accosted her in the mall parking lot. He was too tall. The man who had stalked her was slightly-built and was close to her own height.

  “No,” she finally admitted.

  “It’s been rough on you, hasn’t it?”

  “What has?” She pretended ignorance.

  He leaned closer as the wind ruffled his now longer silver-blond hair. “Don’t pretend with me, Parris. I know you crave your privacy and wish for some kind of normalcy in your marriage. You want to be able to breakfast every morning with your husband before seeing him off to work. And after Regina leaves for school, you’d love to go to an elegant little shop that has been set up for your decorating business.

  “You want to come home after work, see Martin and Regina and share what’s left of the day with them. You probably want another child and I can safely guess that you detest this nasty game of politics Martin has become involved in.”

  Parris stared at his grim expression, feeling her own temper rise. “With a friend like you Martin doesn’t need any enemies, does he?” she asked bitterly.

  Joshua raised his eyebrows. “You doubt my loyalty to your husband?” His pale eyes burned into her. Placing a long elegant hand on her shoulder, his fingers tightened. “You’ll desert him before I will,” he predicted.

  She jerked out of his grasp. “If you’re such a loyal friend, why are you saying these vicious things about Martin?”

  “I just want you to be aware of your position, Parris.” He shifted, staring out into the ocean, his gaze following a flock of circling gulls. “Martin loves you and I know you love him. But sometimes love can obscure reality. Before you agree to go any further with this campaign think about the consequences. Make certain all of the successes will be worth what you’ll have to sacrifice to achieve it.”

  Parris sat, trailing her feet in the pool long after Joshua r
eturned to the centrally air-cooled interior of the house. She was aware of his anger because he had been forced to baby-sit her until Martin returned; and it had not made her feel any better to have him constantly watching over her.

  Wherein Joshua was restless and bored since they had returned to Fort Lauderdale, she hadn’t been. She spent a day shopping for food to stock her pantry, and for linens for the bedrooms.

  Decorating the bedrooms allowed her a taste of reality and stability. In keeping with the tropical locale, she’d decorated the spaces in light, airy romantic colors.

  The bedroom she would share with Martin contained a graceful white brass and iron king-size bed with a white embroidered comforter and sheets of eyelet and lace. She wondered about Martin’s reaction to sleeping in the frilly, feminine bedroom, but dismissed it as soon as the thought entered her head. He probably wouldn’t notice; defeating Eliot Howard and Russell Baker were his only priorities.

  She hadn’t been able to resist the graceful dips and curves of the head and footboards when she saw them in the manufacturer’s warehouse. Glass and wrought iron tables, live potted plants and palms and a pale green rug completed the furnishings. An adjoining dressing room held two massive oak armoires and dressers.

  Regina’s room was filled with wicker furniture, handwrapped over welded iron tubing frames in a delicate light green. The double bed with a wicker headboard, matching aquamarine, apricot and cream bed dressing enchanted the child when she first saw it, but failed to sustain her interest as she complained she had “nothing to do by herself.”

  Regina had been ambivalent about coming down to Fort Lauderdale. She whined that she missed her cousins and grandparents, and Parris retraced the fifty miles to take her back to M.J. Regina would remain in West Palm Beach during the week and return to Fort Lauderdale on weekends.

  Parris couldn’t relax enough to remain in West Palm Beach; the thought of running into Owen had become a constant threat she couldn’t ignore.

  She refused to permit Regina’s wish to stay in West Palm Beach to dampen her relief of being away from the frantic pace of campaigning. She was able to sleep soundly and the shadows under her eyes disappeared quickly.