'Certainly. If you would call the following number and note the appointment address.'
Cam memorized the number, thanked her, and rang off. Briefly, she considered calling Blair, and then realized that there was nothing she could tell her that she wanted to say over the phone. She wasnt certain how much she really wanted to share with her in personbecause she didnt know how to make Blair understand what she might need to do.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Blair nodded hello and a murmured brief 'Good to see you' as she walked hurriedly through the corridors of the West Wing toward a large office that was about as close to the center of power as you could get without actually being in the Oval Office. She stopped by the desk of a pale, sandy-haired, intense looking young man and asked, 'Is she in for me?'
In a flat Midwestern baritone, he replied 'Let me check. She was on the phone with the Secretary of State.'
In another minute, she was getting a quick hug and a peck on the cheek from a woman she had known since childhood and who still managed to instill in her a certain amount of awe and temerity the way no one else could.
'I figured I'd save you the quarter for the phone call,' Blair said as she sat down on the leather sofa that bordered one wall in the office of the White House Chief of Staff.
Lucinda Washburn, a statuesque auburn-haired woman in her early fifties, was dressed in a navy dress accented by a minimum of tasteful gold jewelry. She leaned her hips against the front of the wide desk that was covered with thick binders, stacks of memos, and a computer and regarded Blair with an amused smile.
'Must be serious if it got you to the White House voluntarily.'
'I guess that's for you to tell me.'
Lucinda sighed and her eyes darkened. 'Well, I think that depends.'
'On what?'
Lucinda fixed Blair with a look that was known to make the Joint Chiefs sit up straight in their chairs. Blair didn't flinch. She knew Lucinda's stare and at least had learned not to let its effect show in her face.
'Let's cut to the chase, Blair. It depends on who was in the picture with you and whether its something that's likely to come up again. Aaron Stern has already fielded questions at this morning's press briefing about the picture. The pressand the public want to know why they haven't heard about this romance of yours before this. Everyone wants details.'
Blair did her best not to bristle, but it took every ounce of her formidable will not to snap back that the public could go screw itself. Instead, she said, 'I don't see why we need to give any explanation whatsoever. This will be yesterday's news by this time tomorrow.'
'You may very well be right. On the other hand, there's nothing that the newshounds like better than something juicy involving the First Family to use as filler while waiting for the next meteorological catastrophe or military atrocity.'
'Fine. Tell them it was a date and let it go at that.'
'Oh, come now. A middle of the night assignation on a beach in a city half the mid-West thinks is the reincarnation of Sodom and Gomorrah? Don't pretend to be naive because I know better. Here in the White House our motto is to be prepared. I don't like to be blindsided by anything, but particularly not by something that reflects directly on the President's family.'
Blair was silent, because she knew that already and that was part of the reason she had come to see Lucinda. Finally, she said, 'What do you want?'
'If you're going to embark on a public relationship, then we need to be able to say something about it when asked, and you know damn well wewill be asked. So, give me the details now.'
'You can say that I'm seriously involved with another woman. I won't give you her name.'
Lucinda's expression didn't change. Blair assumed that this news was probably not a surprise, because Lucinda was too astute not to have known before this. But there was a world of difference between assumption and knowledge.
'Well, that will take some handling, Lucinda answered in a controlled tone. «If you refuse to name her, it will only make people think you have something else to hide. You'll be hounded to death over it. Is there something I need to know about her-some scandal, some dark hidden past?'
'No.'
'And I don't suppose you'd be willing to put this affair under wraps until after the President has the party endorsement for reelection?'
'That's more than a year away.'
'Do you want to tell me that you think one year is too long for you to wait? Or is it her? If the woman has any substance-'
'You're stepping over the line, Luce.'
Lucinda Washburns dark eyes flashed with ire, but she held her breath for a long second, then exhaled slowly. 'Blair, your father has only eight years-maximum-to hold the most powerful position in the world. He can accomplish amazing things for this country and for the future of the world during those eight years. Tell me you don't care about that. Tell me you're willing to risk that.'
That had always been the issue, of course. Everyone in her fathers inner circle, Lucinda included, had sacrificed their personal life to put him where he was. Some never had time for relationships, and those who did rarely kept them long. As his daughter, it wasn't as simple as balancing her father's political ambitions with her own need for an independent, honest life. It was the rightness of placing the personal above the greater good. Looking at it the way Lucinda had put it, her desire for personal happiness seemed selfish. 'I've been quiet about my life for over ten years. I've avoided any kind of public statement or disclosure. I didn't mean for that photograph to be in the newspaper. I can't change who I am, even for my father's benefit.'
'Im not asking you to change. I am asking you not to advertise.'
'Ive tried the 'Dont ask, Dont tell approach to life. Its a lot like living in a prison.'
For one brief instant, Blair saw sympathy in Lucindas face. Then it was gone. 'Youre your fathers daughter, Blair. Youll make the right decision.'
They didnt embrace as they parted, and as Blair passed the closed door to the Oval Office and the pair of Secret service agents flanking it, she saw Cams face and wondered if she had the strength to do the right thing.
*****
Shortly before midnight, Cam opened the door to her apartment and ushered Claire inside. Claire was in street clothes with only the barest hint of makeup, and she seemed younger, more vulnerable. Nevertheless, in only a plain white blouse, dark slacks, and low heels, she was still beautiful.
'Are you all right?' Cam asked immediately as the two of them stood facing one another just inside the door.
'Yes, I'm fine,' Claire assured her, although her voice rung hollowly.
'Did you notice anyone following you?'
Claire shook her head and smiled wanly. 'No, I don't think so, but I'm not certain I'd notice if they did. Subterfuge is not something I ordinarily need to employ. The security built into our business is enough to insure everyone's safety.'
'It probably doesn't matter at this point. Come sit down.'
Claire laid her purse on the table just inside the door and walked across the living room to the sofa. Cam joined her, and without being asked, handed her a glass of wine.
'Thank you.' She sipped the wine and said quietly, 'I called you because thereve been more questions. Im apparently on the list now, too.
'Who approached you-a client?'
'Yes.'
'A man?'
'Not the first time, no.'
