Indecent Exposure

by Stuart Woods

  “What sort of advice?”

  “Your dad told him about a rumor that Benton Blake is going to run for the Senate seat.”

  “Your Senate seat?”

  Peter laughed. “Best not to refer to it that way until I’m actually elected to it.”

  “I suppose.”

  “Stone suggested that I dredge my memories of Princeton, Harvard, Oxford, and London for anything that Benton or any other opponent might use against me during the campaign.”

  “I can’t wait to hear what you came up with,” she said.

  “I’m afraid the worst I could do was when I got drunk at Harvard and threw up on a dean’s shoes.”

  “Pretty tough to get an attack ad out of that, isn’t it?”

  “I think what he really wanted to know was if I had any little Rules running around in any of those places.”

  “And do you?”

  “Certainly not! What’s the Pill for, after all?”

  She didn’t laugh.

  “He also suggested that you take a trip down memory lane and see if there’s anything there that might raise a voter’s eyebrow.”

  “Well, I’ll have to rewind that tape and see what I can come up with,” she said.

  He noted that she still wasn’t laughing, which was unlike her.

  “Okay . . . find anything on the tape?”

  “You mean I get all of half a minute to reflect?”

  “I didn’t mean to rush you. Were there all that many men in your past?”

  “A few,” she said, looking pensive.

  “Anyone or anything I should know about?”

  “Maybe,” she said.

  Peter took her glass, went to the bar, and made them another drink, then came back and sat down. She was distractedly looking out the window over the park.

  He handed her the drink and thought it best not to press things.

  “There was something,” she said. “I didn’t think I would ever tell anyone about it, but if I can’t tell you, then what sort of marriage would we have?”

  “I don’t mean to pry,” Peter said, “and neither did Stone. I think he’s right for us to think about these things, and if there’s anything, then deal with it now instead of during a campaign.”

  “He has a point.”

  Peter set down his drink, took her face in his hands, and kissed her. “I’m sorry I brought it up. Let’s just forget about it.”

  “No,” she said, “Stone is right—now is better than later.” She took a swig of her drink and took a deep breath. “I had something of a fling on the Vineyard, the summer after my freshman year at Mount Holyoke. With an older man who was renting the house next to ours for the summer.”

  “Well, I’ve had a few flings in my time—you’re entitled.”

  “But he was married.”

  “Oh.”

  “A friend of Dad’s.”

  “Oh.”

  “And I got pregnant.”

  “Oooooh. How did you handle that?”

  “He researched it and gave me the name of a clinic on the mainland. I took the ferry over one day and had an abortion. It went well. I paid cash—he had given me the money—and I was home in time for a nap before dinner.”

  “That was it?”

  “That was it. I never saw him again. I mean, I saw him around, but I was never alone with him again. It only happened twice.”

  “Who else knew about it at the time?”

  “Nobody.”

  “You didn’t tell a girlfriend, or anybody else?”

  “No, I was too ashamed.”

  “Nothing to be ashamed about. You made a mistake, that’s all.”

  They were both quiet for a minute.

  “Sweetheart,” he said, “is there any reason to worry about us having children?”

  “Oh, no,” she said. “I mean, I don’t have any reason to think that. The doctor at the clinic said that it all went very well, and there was no reason to worry about any health consequences.”

  “Did you use your own name at the clinic?”

  “Of course not! I was young but I wasn’t stupid.” She sighed. “Well, I suppose it was stupid to get involved with him in the first place.”

  “You were young, as you say. Do you think you have any lingering psychological issues?”

  “No, I tried to put it behind me, and by the time I got back to school, I think I pretty much had. Honestly, I think that he was more upset than I. I mean, he had a wife and a child and a career ahead. I suppose he wondered if I could keep a secret, but he didn’t really have to worry about that—I didn’t want anyone to know, and no one ever did, until now.”

  “I’m glad that you could tell me. It makes me love you all the more.”

  She kissed him. “You’re sweet, and I love you, too.”

  They put down their drinks, and in a moment they were undressed and making love on the sofa.

  —

  They lay in each other’s arms and slept for a few minutes, then she stirred. “Peter,” she said.

  He turned over and raised himself on an elbow.

  “Yes?”

  “There is one other person who knows.”

  “Who?”

  “He knows.”

  “Well, there is that.”

  “I don’t think he would want it known now, in the circumstances.”

  “What circumstances?”

  “The campaign.”

  “Are you concerned about blackmail? Would he do that?”

  “Of course not, after all, he has a stake in this, too.”

  “Do I need to know who he is?”

  “I think you do.”

  “Then tell me.”

  “It was Benton Blake.”

  34

  Benton Blake stabbed a chunk of sweet-and-sour chicken and chewed thoughtfully. “I made a decision today,” he said.

  Gloria set down her chopsticks, sensing a significant moment. “Tell me,” she said, preparing for the worst.

  “I’m definitely not running again. In fact, I may resign before my term is up next year.”

  “Congratulations,” she said, relieved that he didn’t seem to be dumping her.

  “We’re finally getting somewhere on the divorce settlement,” he said. “I think we’ll wrap it up soon, and I’ll be a free man.”

  “Congratulations again,” she said. “Why would you want to resign before your term is up?”

  “I’m going to have to give Vanessa pretty much half of everything, and I’m going to want to make some money before I have to start campaigning.”

  “What do you want to do?”

  “Well, I’m an attorney, you know. I was very successful before I became governor, and I can be even more so again. Any law firm would be pleased to have a former governor as a partner—his contacts in state government could be invaluable.”

  “I can understand that.”

  “Also, I don’t want to wait another year before I can be seen in public with you. I feel guilty that all we can have is Chinese food and great sex.”

  “Correction,” she said, “fabulous sex.”

  “No argument there, but I want to be able to take you out to dinner and to the theater and to dinner parties. That would be worth what I’d have to give up for an early settlement.”

  “I’m flattered that you think so.” She really was; she was beginning to think this thing between them might have a future.

  “I’m going to put out a feeler to a firm tomorrow. I have friends there, and I know they’ll keep my confidence.”

  “Benton, do you think Vanessa has been seeing anybody?”

  “Oh, I’m sure of it,” he replied. “She always manages to be in New York when I’m in Albany, or in the Hamptons when I’m in New York.
We rarely see each other anymore.”

  “Do you know who he is?”

  “No. I’ve racked my brain, and I don’t think it can be anybody I know.”

  “If you could find out, you might be able to sue on grounds of adultery and achieve a better settlement.”

  “You’d make a pretty good lawyer, you know?”

  “Thank you.”

  “No, that would be a protracted thing, with a public trial. It would be a mess, and it would put you in jeopardy.”

  “In jeopardy for what?” she asked.

  “Well, if I should put a private detective on her and she found out, she could put one on me, and you might be exposed.”

  “I suppose that could happen,” she said. She was grateful to him for wanting to protect her.

  She took their dishes into the kitchen and put the leftovers into the fridge. He came and stood behind her, holding her close, and she could tell he was more than ready.

  He turned her around, picked her up, and set her on the kitchen counter, then pulled off her thong. She raised herself enough for him to push her dress above her waist, and he was at exactly the right height to enter her, no lubricant required.

  —

  They showered together afterward, then got into bed and did it again and lay, panting, in each other’s arms.

  “This is what I want,” he said. “Is this what you want?”

  “Yes,” she said without hesitation. They were only a few weeks into this relationship, but she knew this was what she wanted.

  “I’ll need a couple of weeks to get the settlement signed, then I’ll resign, and everyone will think it’s because I’m depressed over the divorce. A few weeks after that, you and I can be seen in public, and we’ll be married before I announce for the Senate.”

  “Married?” she asked, sitting up.

  “Is that not what you want?”

  “I want it, I just didn’t think it was possible.”

  “I’m an impatient man,” he said, pulling her down to him again.

  “Will my being in your life be a negative thing for the campaign?”

  “No, we’re a good fourteen, fifteen months away from announcing, I think.”

  “I wouldn’t want for anyone to use me against you.”

  “Listen, I’m squeaky clean. The press has gotten used to that, and they won’t blame me for starting to see someone else after that.”

  “Squeaky clean?” she laughed.

  “There’s only one thing in my past that I would worry about.”

  She didn’t ask; she wanted it to come from him.

  “Some years ago I had a summer fling on the Vineyard with the daughter of a friend, my next-door neighbor. She was a college girl at the time. It only happened a couple of times, but she got pregnant.”

  “Is she likely to be a problem?”

  “No, it’s not like that. She got an abortion, and we didn’t see each other again, except socially. Anyway, in the circumstances, she would have as much to lose as I if it came up during a campaign.”

  —

  Stone was working when Bob Cantor turned up and took a seat in his office.

  “There have been developments,” he said.

  “Tell me.”

  “Gloria Parsons has got her hooks into Benton Blake.”

  “Well, we’ve known about that for weeks.”

  “No, this is all new.” He set the little recorder on Stone’s desk and played the conversation. “This just happened last night, and I got it off the autorecorder this morning.”

  Stone listened to the whole tape. “Well,” he said, “looks like Benton is serious about this affair. I don’t know whether I underestimated or overestimated him.”

  “She’s quite the looker,” Bob said, “and it sounds as if he’s really going all in.”

  “I don’t suppose you have any idea who his wife is screwing,” Stone said.

  “You haven’t asked me to look into that, but I will if that’s what you want.”

  “No, I’m not really interested in his marriage, I just wanted something on Gloria, in case I needed it.”

  “Well, you have that.”

  “And now that I do, I don’t want it,” Stone said. “In fact, I feel guilty about having initiated this—it’s none of my business, really.”

  “I can understand why you might feel that way,” Bob said. “Do you want me to terminate the investigation?”

  “I don’t care about what goes on in her apartment or her love life, but I do care about any conversations she might have with Danny Blaine or Alphonse Teppi that concern me.”

  “Okay, I’ll stay on it, then.” They shook hands, and Bob left.

  Joan came into his office and handed him a note. “Bill Eggers’s secretary called while you were meeting with Bob. She wants to know if you’re available for lunch tomorrow with Bill at The Club at one o’clock.”

  “Tell her I’m available,” Stone said.

  35

  Stone arrived at The Club a little early and found Bill Eggers ahead of him in the bar. They ordered drinks.

  “I’m glad we have a moment to talk before Benton gets here,” Eggers said.

  “What’s it about?”

  “I’ve heard that he’s interested in practicing law again, when his term is up.”

  Stone tried to look surprised. “Do you think he could make some rain?”

  “I think he could produce a few thunderstorms. Remember, he appointed all the heads of the state agencies—now he can reap the benefits, and there’s nothing unethical about it.”

  “Would you bring him in as a partner?”

  “Absolutely, that’s where he’d be the most effective.”

  “I agree,” Stone said.

  “And there’s something else. Benton has hinted strongly that he’s going to run for the Senate at the midterm, so he wouldn’t be around for much more than a year. By that time we’d have reaped about all from the state that we’re going to.”

  “Could he be senator and a partner simultaneously?”

  “He wouldn’t be the first,” Eggers said, “but in those circumstances we wouldn’t be paying him as much.”

  “Suppose he loses the Senate race?”

  “To whom?”

  “Well, I expect someone could crop up, perhaps even someone who could beat him.”

  “In that case, he could continue with the firm, but his compensation would be based on the business he brings in, so that’s okay with me.”

  “It’s okay with me, too,” Stone said.

  Eggers was about to say something else, but Benton Blake appeared in the bar, and they sat down for lunch.

  “Long time,” Blake said to Stone.

  “I don’t get to Albany much,” Stone replied, “and I didn’t see you at the Saltonstall wedding dinner.”

  “I had to be in California to entice a tech company to relocate in upstate New York.”

  “Successful?”

  “I believe so. We’ll know after their next board meeting, which is in a couple of weeks.”

  “Good luck.”

  “And I want to thank both of you for your support over the past two terms. It’s meant a lot to me, more than just the money.”

  “You’re very welcome, Benton,” Eggers said. “Tell me, have you given any thought to what you’re going to do when your time as governor is done?”

  That’s making it easy for him, Stone thought.

  “I have, Bill. I want to practice law again.”

  “That’s very interesting, Benton. When you get closer to the end of your term, let’s talk seriously about that. I’m sure we could find a nice office for you at Woodman & Weld.”

  “I’m nearer to the end of my term than you know, Bill, so let’s talk about it now.”


  “Tell me what I don’t know.”

  “We’re wrapping up my divorce agreement now, and as soon as that’s completed, I plan to resign as governor.”

  “What’s the rush?” Eggers asked.

  “I’m considering a run for the Senate in two years, and I want to do some good for myself before I do.”

  “Well, Benton, we’d be delighted to have you at Woodman & Weld as a partner.”

  “I’m delighted to hear that, and I’m sure we can work out something.”

  “I’m sure about that, too.” Eggers extended a hand. “Welcome aboard, Benton.”

  Stone shook his hand, too. “How long before you can join us, Benton?”

  “Within a month. I’m going over to my lawyer’s office after lunch to read the final agreement. If it’s satisfactory, I’ll sign it and as soon as the court accepts it and issues a decree, I’ll resign.”

  “I’ll go back to the office and dictate an offer,” Eggers said, “and e-mail it to you. You’ll have it to read by the end of the day, and we can hash out the details soon. We’ll be ready to welcome you as soon as you leave Albany.”

  Eggers ordered a bottle of champagne, and they toasted the new relationship.

  —

  Stone rode with Eggers back to the Seagram Building, where the offices of Woodman & Weld were located. He wanted to drop in on his group and see how they were doing. “Bill, can I tell my people about this?”

  “Wait until Benton has signed on the dotted line. Anyway, nothing he does will affect what goes on in your group.”

  “All right,” Stone said. They got out of the car in the garage and took the elevator to the top floor, where both their offices were located. Stone thanked Eggers for lunch and went to the suite of offices occupied by The Barrington Group. Herbie Fisher was on his computer amid the ruins of a brown bag lunch.

  “How’s it going, Stone?”

  “Very well, thanks, Herb. Is everything running smoothly here?” He took a seat on the sofa.

  “We’re shipshape,” Herbie said. “I’m glad to see you. I was going to call this afternoon anyway.”

  “What’s up?”

  “I heard a rumor from a reliable source that Benton Blake is going to resign and go back to practicing law.”