“Hold on a moment.”
She heard a rumble of voices in the background, then Carlos spoke again. “Why don’t you come now? It’s as good a time as any.”
On the stairs she was aware of her own heart beats, not quicker but heavier, and so loud she was afraid other people would hear them. Yet it had to be this way. She couldn’t resign by letter after being with Jeremy so much the last few days. He would think it odd. He might even suspect a hidden motive. She must try to be natural, casual, and nonchalant.
Carlos met her at the door. “Jerry’s giving you ten minutes. A great honor because he’s really busy.”
That made it all the worse.
“Will ten minutes be enough?”
“It should be.”
“While you’re talking to him, I’ll be working on the timetable of his Western trip. Don’t take more than ten minutes. Every second counts from now till polling day.”
Jeremy was standing in the tall, bay window at the far end of the eight-sided room, looking out at the rain, slashing the windowpanes. He turned and smiled. “Good morning, Tash. Nothing wrong, I hope?”
“Not really.” Her throat was dry. She had to swallow. Her hands were shaky. Her knees just weren’t there.
“I don’t quite know how to say this. I’m really sorry, but . . .”
“But what?”
“I’ve come to . . . well, resign.”
The ghost at the back of her mind asked her if is this was her idea of being natural, casual, and nonchalant?
Jeremy had been in public life too long for his expression to betray his inner feelings. His manner was pleasantly polite and totally unreadable.
“My dear Tash, why?”
“Oh, didn’t I say? It’s Bill Brewer, my editor. He wants be back on the newspaper. He says he really needs me.”
“I need you, too. It’s only a few months till the election. Couldn’t Mr. Brewer possibly spare you for that short time?”
“I’m afraid not.”
“I was depending on you.”
“I know. That’s what makes me feel so badly about it.”
“Would it do any good if I talked to Brewer?”
“I don’t think so.”
Jeremy smiled suddenly. “Would it do any good if I talked to you?”
She was speechless. She could only shake her head.
“Have you given me the real reason for your resignation? Or has something happened to make you unhappy here?”
“Oh, it’s nothing like that. I have been happy here. It’s just that I . . . well, I owe it to Bill. He gave me my first job when I first came to this state and I can’t let him down.”
“If that’s the way you feel, there’s not much I can say, but wouldn’t you like to think it over for a few days or a week?”
“No, thanks. That wouldn’t make any difference. It’s better to do this quickly. I’ll just stay until you can get someone else.”
“That won’t be necessary.” There was a touch of coldness in his voice. “We can find someone else in a day or so. And now, if you will excuse me?”
He sat down at his desk and began studying the papers that lay on the blotter. Without looking up he said: “When you get back to the executive offices, please tell Carlos I’m ready for him now.”
As she went out, she looked at a clock. It had taken only three minutes.
She ought to have been happy because she had done the right thing, but now she discovered as many have before her that doing the right thing does not necessarily make you happy. She had done what she had always believed her father should have done fourteen years ago, and the result was that she had never felt more unhappy in her life. For the first time she began to understand what her father had gone through. He had acted as he had to escape a desolation like that she felt now.
If her resignation had been announced on television, it could not have flashed through the executive offices more instantaneously.
Carlos was the first to approach her, angry and plaintive at the same time. He said all the things Jeremy might have said and didn’t. How could she let the Governor down? How could she leave now, of all times, on the very eve of a campaign? Who was going to write the speeches for the Governor’s western trip? Did she think he, Carlos, could carry the whole burden alone? Why had she taken on this job if she didn’t mean to keep it until after the election? Her leaving at such short notice was a disgrace to her and an insult to the Governor. Didn’t she have any sense of loyalty at all?
Tash was far more able to face this storm than Jeremy’s coldness.
“I’m sorry, but my job is not that important to you or to the Governor. And I did offer to wait until he could get someone else.”
Carlos left her office, still fuming, and Job arrived.
“Another county heard from!” He was quoting the oft repeated cry of the men who kept tally at party headquarters when election returns were coming in. “I’m surprised at you.”
“Job, I’m tired of apologizing. I know it must seem awful to you who have been with Jeremy so long, but—”
“But you have to think of yourself.”
“And Bill Brewer and the newspaper.”
“Boloney. That’s not your real reason.”
It was hard to meet those sharp eyes. She was more afraid of Job’s shrewdness than of Jeremy’s disdain or Carlos’ indignation.
Job removed the cigar from his mouth, always a signal that he was going to say something of importance.
“Jerry’s election means everything to me, and I think you’re the one for this job, much better than your predecessor was. Not everyone can work smoothly with Carlos and Hilary. Not everyone has your knack with words. There’s hardly time to find anyone else as good as you. Will you stay if I see to it your salary is doubled, starting today?”
“It’s not a question of money.”
“Yeah? Job gave
