“Very funny, that's all I need.” But the idea had struck some kind of chord. She hadn't seen Caroline in years. She and John had stopped to visit her once, it had been a three-hour drive north and east from L.A. and John had hated it. He didn't like the horses, thought the ranch was uncomfortable, and Caroline and her foreman had looked askance at him for his prissy city ways. A horseman he wasn't, but Samantha was an elegant horsewoman. She had been since she was a child. There had been a wild pinto pony on the ranch when they visited and she had ridden it, to Caroline's dismay. But she hadn't gotten hurt in spite of the horse throwing her half a dozen times as she tried to help break him to the saddle, and John had been instantly impressed by her skill. It had been a happy time in Sam's life and seemed a long time in the past as she looked up at Charlie now. “I'm not even sure she'd have me. I don't know, Charlie. It's a crazy idea. Why don't you guys just leave me alone to finish my work?”
“Because we love you, and you're going to destroy yourself like this.”
“No, I'm not.” She smiled valiantly at him, and slowly he shook his head.
“It doesn't matter what you say to me now, Sam. It was Harvey's decision.”
“What was?”
“Your leave of absence.”
“It's definite, then?” Once again she looked shocked and again he nodded his head.
“As of today. Three and a half months leave, and you can extend it to six if you want.” They had called the station to ascertain Liz's due date, and tacked two more weeks on from there.
“And I won't lose my job?”
“No.” He slowly pulled a letter out of his pocket and gave it to Samantha to read. It was from Harvey and guaranteed her job even if she stayed away for six months. It was unheard of in their business, but as Harvey had put it, Samantha Taylor was “a fairly extraordinary girl.”
Sam looked up sadly at Charlie. “Does this mean I'm off as of today?” Her lower lip trembled.
“That's what it means, lady. You're on vacation as of right now. Hell, I wish I were.”
“Oh, my God.” She sank into a chair and covered her face with one hand. “Now what am I going to do, Charlie?”
He gently touched her shoulder. “Do what I told you, baby. Call your old friend on that ranch.”
It was a mad suggestion, but after he left, she began to think about what she was going to do. She went to bed still in a state of shock. For the next three and a half months, she was out of a job. She had nowhere to go, nothing to do, nothing she wanted to see, and no one to see it with. For the first time in her adult life she was totally without plans. All she had to do was have one meeting with Harvey the next morning to explain everything on her desk and after that she was free. As she lay there in the dark, feeling frightened, suddenly she began to giggle. It was crazy really, what the hell was she going to do with herself until April 1? April fool… the joke's on you… Europe? Australia? A visit to her mother in Atlanta? For an instant she felt freer than she ever had before. When she had left Yale, she had had John to think of, and now she had no one at all. And then, on an impulse, she reached for her address book in the darkness and decided to follow Charlie's advice. She flicked on the light and found the number easily under
The phone was answered on the second ring by the familiar smoky voice of Caroline Lord. There followed a lengthy explanation on Sam's part, friendly silences from Caroline as she spoke, and then a strange, anguished sob as Samlet herself go at last. Then it was like coming home to an old friend. The older woman listened, really listened. She gave Sam a kind of comfort she had forgotten over the years. And when Sam hung up the phone half an hour later, she lay staring at the canopy above her, wondering if maybe she really was going crazy after all. She had just promised to fly to California the following afternoon.
2
It was a frenzied morning for Samantha, she packed two suitcases, called the airlines, left a note and a check for the cleaning woman, and attempted to close up the apartment as best she could. Then, with her two suitcases, she took a cab to the office, where she gave Charlie the key to the apartment and promised to send Christmas presents for the boys from the coast. Then she met with Harvey for more than two hours, explaining everything he wanted to know.
“You know, you don't have to do this for me, Harvey. It isn't what I want.” Her eyes reached out toward him as they concluded the meeting that would send her on her way.
He eyed her quietly from across his vast marble and chrome desk. “It isn't what you want, Sam, but it's what you need, whether you know it or not. Are you getting out of town?” He was a tall, spare man with iron-gray hair that he wore as closely cropped as any Marine. He wore white Brooks Brothers shirts, striped suits, looked like a banker, and smoked a pipe, but behind the steely gray eyes was a brilliant mind, a creative spirit, and a rare and beautiful soul. He had been, in a sense, like a father to Samantha, and now that she thought it over, it didn't really surprise her that he was sending her away. But they hadn't spoken of her plans all morning. All they had talked about were the accounts.
“Yes, I'm going away.” She smiled at him from across the forbidding desk. It was easy to remember how frightened she had been of him at first, and how much she had come to respect him over the years. But the respect was mutual, as she knew. “In fact”-she looked at her watch-“my plane leaves in two hours.”
“Then get the hell out of my office.” He put his pipe down and grinned, but Sam hesitated for a moment in her chair.
“You're sure I'll get my job back, Harvey?”
“I swear it. You have the letter?” She nodded. “Good. Then if you don't get your job back, you can sue me.”
“That's not what I want. I want the job.”
“You'll get it, and probably mine eventually too.”
“I could come back in a few weeks, you know.” She said it tentatively, but he shook his head and the smile faded quickly from his eyes.
“No, Sam, you can't. April first, and that's it.”
“For any special reason?” He didn't want to tell her, so again he shook his head.
“No, that was the date we picked. I'll send you plenty of memos to keep you abreast of what's happening here, and you can call me anytime you want. Does my secretary know where to find you?”
“Not yet, but she will.”
“Good.” He came around the desk then and pulled her toward him without saying another word. He held her close for a long moment and then kissed the top of her head. “Take it easy, Sam. We'll miss you.” His voice was gruff and there were tears in her eyes as she held him close for one more moment and then strode rapidly toward the door. For just one tiny instant she felt as though she were being banished from her home, and she felt panic wash over her as she considered begging him not to make her leave.
But when she left his office, Charlie was waiting for her outside in the hallway, and he smiled gently at her, slung an arm over her shoulders, and gave her a squeeze. “Ready to go, kiddo?”
“No.” She smiled damply at him and then-sniffed, burrowing closely into his side.
“You will be.”
“Yeah? What makes you so sure?” They were walking slowly back to her office, and more than ever she wanted to stay. “This is crazy. You know that, don't you, Charlie? I mean, I have work to do, campaigns to coordinate, I have no right to-”
“You can keep talking if you want to, Sam, but it won't make any difference.” He looked at his watch. “Two hours from now I'm putting you on that plane.”
Samantha suddenly stopped walking and turned to look at him belligerently, and he couldn't resist smiling at her. She looked like a very beautiful and totally impossible child. “What if I won't get on it? What if I just won't go?”
“Then I'll drug you and take you out there myself.”
“Mellie wouldn't like that.”
