Sleeping Beauty (82 page)

Then they were all gone. All except Sara. She stood at the back of the room, clasping her notebook, her eyes fastened on Vince.

“Hello,” Vince said warmly. “I'm glad to see you again. Did the
Rocky Mountain News
transfer you to Washington?”

“No, I wish they would. I came on my own, Senator. I couldn't believe anybody would do such a wonderful thing; you know how everybody talks about greed and selfishness, and then I read about you, and you remember, you talked to me in Denver a couple of weeks ago—”

“I remember. I said I enjoyed our interview.”

She flushed. “I'm sorry about that question I asked; I didn't know it would upset you.”

“It didn't upset me,” Vince said gently. “I was just surprised. What made you ask it?”

“Well, all these things about your family; I was just wondering . . . Could I ask you a couple of things?”

“Of course you can,” Vince said, and they sat together on folding chairs.

Sara turned to a fresh page of her notebook. “If your family asks for help, would you be giving them advice or even going back, someday, and working with them again?”

“No,” Vince said sharply. Then he softened it. “Senators don't get involved in business, Sara; not even with their own family.”

“Well, yes, I know, but someday you might want to go back to them, mightn't you? I mean, after you sold your interest in Chatham Development before you went to Denver—”

Vince frowned. “How did you know that?”

“It was in one of the old
Rocky Mountain News
issues, from when you started Lake Forest Development and built your first shopping mall. I went back and read them all. Your partner told a reporter that you'd gotten your start in Chicago and then sold your shares back to your family because you wanted to build your own company. I thought it was wonderful that you'd make it on your own, and I just thought, now that you'd done this incredible thing for your family, they'd want you back, and maybe they asked you not to run for president.”

Vince shook his head gently. “First of all, Sara, I never really left them. And when I gave them the money, I told them it was theirs, just as the companies were theirs, and that my place was here, in the Senate.”

“And you weren't angry about that?”

“Angry?” Vince looked at her closely. “Why would you think I was angry?”

“Well, I could be wrong; but you were making a fist and . . . I'm sorry, it sounds silly; forget I said anything.”

“No, I want to hear it,” Vince said. “I was making a fist and what else?”

“Your face was . . . tight. Like you were gritting your teeth.”

“Well.” Vince smiled. “You're an observant young lady. You'll be a great reporter if you keep that up. You're right, Sara, I was gritting my teeth, but it wasn't anger. I still get nervous in front of a crowd—talk about being silly, that beats yours any day—and it was worse than usual tonight because I don't like people to treat me like some kind of saint. Most people help their families, but with smaller amounts of money, so no one pays much attention. I was uncomfortable, being singled out as somebody special; that's what you saw. I thought I was hiding it pretty well; I'm going to have to be careful around you.”

Sara flushed again. “Thank you,” she said. “I appreciate your honesty.”

“And I appreciate yours.” Vince gazed into Sara's ardent eyes and felt a surge of desire. Such a sweet child, lovely and worshipful. Her skin had a purity that matched the softness of her lips; her breasts were small and her shoulders were slightly rounded, as if she were leaning toward him. She could be much more than the pleasant diversion he had imagined when they first met; she could be his little friend, his pupil, his playmate. His. Always waiting for him, waiting to please him. Sara would be his relaxation, the only thing he could be sure of in a world that suddenly was full of snares.

And she was a reporter. She could be his mouthpiece; she could help him build up the foundation of the family he had begun tonight.
I hope you change your mind about the White House, Senator; we need men like you.
With Sara, he might find his way back to that path; with a loving Sara poised to do whatever he wanted, anxious to do what would make him happiest, he could do almost anything.

Vince looked at his watch. “You know,” he said thoughtfully, “I'm supposed to go to some fancy dinner party tonight, but I need some quiet time after all this hoopla. Would you have dinner with me, Sara?”

“Oh. Yes, I'd love . . . But your wife . . .”

“She's in Denver. She spends a fair bit of time there; her
family likes it. And we all know that families come first.” He stood and held out his hand, smiling into her bright eyes, smiling past his rage. “I'll take you to one of my favorite little places where nobody will pay any attention to—”

“Hi, Vince, they told me you were here,” said Keith, and gave a little salute as he walked in. His gaze settled on Sara. He held out his hand. “Keith Jax. I hope I didn't interrupt anything. I'm Uncle Vince's nephew.”

“Oh,” said Sara. Her face showed her confusion as she shook hands with him, wanting to interview him to find out more about Vince, but wanting even more to have dinner with Vince, just the two of them, in one of his favorite little places. She hoped Vince would not invite Keith to join them, and she glanced at him to see what he was going to do.

Vince's face was impassive. “I've been calling you for the last five days.”

“I wasn't there.” Keith grinned. “But I guess you already know that. I thought it would be fun to drive here, you know, like see America first. God, it's a hell of a lot of driving, though. I mean, I didn't know it was so goddam far from Tamarack to here.”

“You're from Tamarack?” Sara asked.

“Sara,” Vince said. He put his hand under her elbow and walked her a few feet away, his voice low. “Would you wait for me upstairs in the lobby? I should talk to Keith for a few minutes; then we'll have our dinner. I'm sorry for this, but he's driven all this way and I can't ignore him.”

“Of course,” Sara said. She looked at Vince's face, hoping to learn more. “He seems very happy to be here. He must like you very much.”

“I hope so.” Vince gave her the tiniest nudge toward the door. “I'll meet you upstairs in a few minutes.”

He watched her leave, then turned back to Keith. “What the hell do you mean, taking off without telling me? When I call you, I expect to find you there.”

“Well, I'm sorry about that, Uncle Vince. I mean I got the idea, you know, in a hurry and I just like took off.”

“Well, you'll turn around and go back in a hurry. Tomorrow.” Vince took out his keys. “I'll call my doorman and tell
him to let you in. I'll see you at breakfast; I want to talk to you before you leave.”

“It's okay if I stay there? I mean, you don't want the place to yourself for the, you know, little lady? No, you wouldn't; you're too smart for that. I mean, it's a lot like safer to go to her place.”

“Keep your mouth shut,” Vince snapped. “And make sure you're up early tomorrow; we'll have breakfast at six-thirty. You'll leave right after that.”

“No, see, you don't get it, Uncle Vince. I'm not going back. I mean I'm like
here.
I've got Eve in the car, and all our, you know, luggage. Everything. I'm going to work for you, you know, do everything you need me to do, like your, you know, chief assistant, the way we talked about, remember? I'm the one who does a lot of the work, but the newspapers don't know anything about me. I mean I'm not trying to be, you know, famous or anything, you're the one who's into that, you're like terrific at it; I just want to be, you know, part of everything, helping the people of Colorado, and kind of like . . . indispensable.”

Once again, Vince felt as if the ground were sliding out from under him. The terrible feeling that he was losing control, the worst feeling he knew, settled over him. “What did you tell them?” he asked harshly.

Keith looked surprised. “Who?”

“Leo. Charles. Anne.”

“Charles? When? I mean, I haven't seen him since Christmas. Anne and Leo came to my office with a lot of bullshit questions about, you know, dynamite above the drainage ditch, and the gondola crash, but I just like listened; I didn't say a thing. Oh, yeah, I did; I said I was in bed with Eve the morning of the, you know, crash, and we were like having a good time and she'd, you know, remember it.”

“That's all you said?”

“Well, sure. I mean, I'm not
dumb,
Vince. If I was, you wouldn't want me for your assistant. See, I know what you need, Vince. You need people like me. I mean, you talk a lot about who's in your way and what you'll do about it, who
you'll get rid of, you know, but you never do. You know? I mean, you don't have the guts, Vince. You talk big, but that's all it is. So it's a good thing I'm around, right? And I'm going to be around forever, so you don't have to worry; you won't ever lose me.” He jingled the keys in his hand. “We won't stay in your place long; I mean, we don't want to be any trouble; we'll find a place of our own like right away. Oh, we might need a, you know, down payment to buy something, you know, just a loan, but that's all. I'll be earning a good salary, so I can like pay you back and we won't be a, you know, burden or anything on you. More like partners. You know.”

Vince was silent, his thoughts racing. He'd known he would have to deal with Keith; he'd just been too busy to think about it. And now he was here, and he thought he'd be staying forever. The stupid ass; of course he wouldn't stay forever. Vince would get rid of him when it suited him. I'll use him for a while, Vince thought; but if he thinks he's going to stick to me for the rest of my life, he's a fool. Nobody blackmails me; it's just a matter of choosing the best time to act. Stupid ass; he doesn't know what I can do. No one knows yet what I can do.

He looked past Keith as if he did not exist. I'll take care of him when it's the right time. I'll take care of anyone who gets in my way. And Sara will be on my side. Sara will help me get everything back.

“Well,” Keith said when Vince was silent, “I'll go tell Eve we're all set; she was like worried that everything wouldn't be okay. I told her it would, but you know how women worry. I told her we didn't have anything to worry about, ever again. I mean, this is going to be great, Vince, you know? You and me. Whatever you need, I'll do it. You can count on me. You've got me, Vince. Forever.”

Just outside the room, Sara heard Vince walking toward the door, and scurried upstairs. She was very excited, and sad, too. She felt a deep sense of loss that Vince Chatham wasn't what she had thought he was. Of course that could be because he didn't like his nephew, but Sara thought it was more than that; she thought she'd heard more about the real
Vince Chatham in the last twenty minutes than in all of his press conferences, and their interview in Denver, and the hundreds of newspaper articles she'd read. That was what excited her: everything was more than it seemed.

How fascinating, thought the reporter within Sara, alert, puzzled, intensely curious. She was so excited she had to order herself to calm down before Vince came to fetch her for dinner. She didn't know exactly what she had in all the fascinating tidbits and hints she'd heard, but it looked as if there might be a story here a lot more complicated than a senator's giving $60 million to his family because he was generous and loved them.

Or maybe it's more than one story, Sara thought; maybe there's a whole series of stories. Maybe even one of those investigative books reporters are always writing. It could take months, maybe even years, to track down everything about the senator and his family. She didn't even know what she was looking for, but that was all right; one thing always led to another in these investigations. And it didn't matter how long it took, either; she had lots of time. And one thing her boss had always complimented her on: she had lots and lots of patience.

She took a small mirror from her purse and put on fresh lipstick and combed her hair. This could be my future, she thought, and folded her hands neatly in her lap, to wait for Vince.

J
osh was waiting at the Luxor Airport when Anne's plane landed. “I'm so glad you're here,” he said, holding both her hands. “It's been a long three weeks.”

“Very long,” Anne said. As busy as she had been in Los Angeles, catching up on her work and trying to get ahead so she could make this trip, she had found herself looking up from her desk, gazing out the window, wanting to be with him. And there had been a leap of gladness within her when she saw him waiting for her as she walked toward him from the plane. It might partly have been the strangeness of the place, she thought, looking about her at the dingy airport. It was a small, one-story building with everything squeezed into one room: tourists milling about their guides, businessmen in suits and ties, some wearing turbans, soldiers in rumpled uniforms, security guards, languid airport workers, and foreign visitors who knew their way around and walked briskly to the exit. Anne looked at Josh, tall, confident, with strong features that no longer, ever, seemed harsh to her, and knew it was not just the strangeness of the place. “I'm glad to be here,” she said.

Josh took her carry-on bag and the garment bag she carried over one shoulder. “How much more luggage do you have?”

“None.” She smiled at his raised eyebrows. “You told me it would be casual.”

“So I did.” He smiled. “I like the way you travel. It's the same way I do; it simplifies everything.”

They walked past the crowds impatiently waiting for baggage to be unloaded, and walked to Josh's car. “Not much to see this late at night,” he said. “We'll have a daytime tour whenever you want.”