THE PRESIDENT'S GIRLFRIEND (21 page)

     Then a familiar voice came onto the line.  “Kate, darling, how are you?” Max said into the phone.  “It’s Max Brennan.  No, it’s not a social call.  This call is strictly business.”  Then Max exhaled, looked at Allison.  “He needs you, Kate,” he said.

FOURTEEN

Two weeks later and the story was still a big topic of conversation.  Although there had been a few disasters, like more flooding along the southern plain states, nothing so severe that it would knock Marcus
Rance
and his shady life off of the front pages. 

     The staff at BBR, however, were no longer bombarded with reporters camped outside their office doors, or at their homes, but the effects of the last two weeks were being felt in their donations.  Down mightily, by all accounts.

     They sat at the conference table, Gina, LaLa,
Demps
, and Frank, and tried to make sense of it all.  But they couldn’t.  It was nonsensical. 

     Gina stared at a picture of her half-brother, and she could see no resemblance to her father at all.  The caption read: The President’s Brother-in-law?

     “They know I have never had anything to do with this guy,” she said.  “Every reporter in America knows that I don’t even know him.  But they continue to print this craziness!  And now it’s hurting BBR.”

     “Even our local paper,” Frank said, “hasn’t been immune.  They claimed that’s the real reason why you started BBR.  Because you saw the waywardness of your brother.”

     Gina shook her head.  It was too much.  And this story, unlike the faux arrest story, couldn’t’ be ignored.

     That was why they spent most of the morning watching news accounts, amazed at how, not just Dutch’s political opponents, but reporters as well were linking her to Marcus
Rance
.  Now the president was speaking at the White House about a meeting he had just wrapped up with the prime minister of Pakistan, who stood beside him in the Rose Garden, and the very first question by reporters wasn’t about the US-Pakistani relationship, or the war in Afghanistan.  It was about Marcus
Rance
.

     “I don’t condone murder, first of all,” Dutch had to clarify based upon the reporter’s question, and it was downhill from there.  Yes, they had the same father, but no, she never met him, didn’t have any relationship, didn’t know he existed until the story broke.  But the very next question would be, once again, about this unknown half-brother of Regina Lansing’s and why it wasn’t made public sooner.

     Gina, for her part, could only stare at the screen.  “It’s bad, isn’t it?” she asked Dempsey.  “For the president, I mean?”

     Dempsey glanced at LaLa, who was horrified by it all.  Dempsey leaned forward.  “When the President of the United States has to begin an answer by saying he doesn’t condone murder, as if it’s implied that he might, yeah, it’s bad.”

     Gina frowned.  “It’s so unfair,” she said.

     “Politics and fairness are nonexistent bedfellows,” Frank said, and LaLa looked at him. 

+++

At the Mirth restaurant and Dutch and Max were eating alone.  It was Max’s idea.  Get out of the White House, show the press that you’re moving on.  Dutch knew it was also to show the press that Gina wasn’t in town, but he was hungry and lonely, so he agreed. 

     They were a few minutes into their meal and conversation when the door was opened within the private room and Katherine
Marris
, blonde, blue-eyed, and voluptuous, walked in.

     When Dutch saw her, he sat his fork on his plate.  Max stood to his feet.

     “Hello, Darling,” Kate said to Max, air-kissing him on both cheeks.

     “How are you, Kate?”

     “Famished,” she said, sitting down in Max’s seat and removing her gloves.  “A gentleman,” she said to Dutch, “would have stood for a lady.”

     “If I had seen a lady,” replied Dutch, “I would have stood.”

     “Ouch,” Max said with a smile.

     “What is she doing here?” Dutch asked Max.  “And who gave her clearance to interrupt my dinner?”

     “I did,” Max said.  He put his hands in his pockets, revealing a belly flapped over his belt.  “I asked her to talk to you.”

     Dutch stared at Max.  He just didn’t get it.  He thought Gina was just a temp, just like all of his previous ladies, and Kate was the true love of his life.  She wasn’t, and never was, but Max didn’t believe it.

     When Max had excused himself from the room, Dutch leaned back and folded his arms.  “All right,” he said.  “You’re here to talk, then talk.”

     Kate smiled, picked up a carrot off of Max’s plate and took a bite.  “You haven’t changed at all,” she said.  “But I love you, too.”  Then she sighed.  “It was Max’s idea, darling, believe that.  He’s under the impression that I still have some sort of influence over you, foolish man.”  She looked at Dutch.  “He’s worried about you.”

    
There
eyes met.  In Dutch, Kate did see the love of her life, a man she still found herself crying over.  In Kate, Dutch saw the woman who had given him an ultimatum.  Marry her, she’d said, or leave her.  He wasn’t about to marry her, there was too much character lacking in hers, and he called it quits. 

     “And besides,” Kate said, “I’ve missed you.”

     Dutch could have strangled Max if he was still in the room.  The last thing he wanted to do right now was get into it with Kate.  He began eating his dinner again.  “I saw you at that fundraiser last month with that actor, what’s his name?  I’m glad to see you’ve moved right along.”

     “Well, what did you want me to do?  Cry in a corner over you?”

     “Of course not,” Dutch said with a look of alarm on his face.  “I don’t want you to do anything over me.  It’s over between us.  Completely over.”

     A sadness came over Kate’s eyes, but she maintained her bravado.  “So I’m still out, and the murderer’s sister is in?”

     “Cute, Kate.”

     “Thank-you.”

     “I would not have expected anything less.”

     Kate felt the verbal jab, but ducked.  “That woman, and this is what they’re saying in our circles, could cost you your reelection bid.  You know that, right?”

     “People say a lot of things.”

     “But
her
, Dutch, come on.  She’s everything we aren’t.  It’s as if you’re trying to prove some point.  And it’s a ridiculous point.”

     Dutch continued to eat.  And Kate continued to talk.  And at the end of the evening, they headed out by the side exit, with Dutch more than ready to go his way, and Kate supposedly going hers.

     But the press was out in force, with cameras flashing as soon as they exited the building.  Kate immediately placed her arm within his and then stumbled against him, causing him to react by catching her.  The flashbulbs went crazy.  Dutch removed her from his grasp, and hurried for his limousine.

+++

Less than two hours later, Frank was at Gina’s front door.  “Thought I’d come over in case you needed a shoulder to cry on,” he said as she reluctantly let him into her home.  But this time it was his statement, rather than that odd feeling she got whenever he was around her, that concerned her.

     “Cry?  Why would I need a shoulder to cry on?”

     Frank stopped in his tracks.  “You mean you haven’t seen it?”

     “Seen what?”

     “The two of them.”

     Gina frowned.  “The two of whom?  Frank, what are you talking about?”

     Frank walked over to the sofa, put his briefcase up on the table, and pulled out a small portable DVD.  “They were showing it so often that I recorded it.  Now I’m glad I did.  Come here.”

     Gina walked over to the sofa and sat down.  And there it was, Dutch and Kate coming out of Mirth, arm in arm, and then the stumble and then the capture.  Kate in the arms of the president, looking like the perfect couple.

     “Is that Kate
Marris
?”

     Frank nodded.  “That’s her.  She’s supposedly the love of his life.”  When he said this and looked at Gina, he could see all fight go out of her.  Frank, thrilled, kept playing it over and over until Gina stood up quickly and moved away.

     “Would you like something to drink, Frank?” she asked him.

     “No, I’m good,” he said.  “It’s you I’m worried about.  Would
you
like something to drink?”

     Gina sat down in the chair, and nodded.  “Yes, please,” she said.

     Frank gave a shy smile and hurried for the kitchen.  When he returned, he stood there staring at her.  She looked lost, it seemed to him.

     “Ah, you poor thing,” he said, sitting the glass on the table and hurrying to her.  He sat on the edge of the chair and pulled her slightly to him. 

     “No, I’m okay,” she said, resisting his pull.

     “But you must be devastated,” Frank said, continuing to pull on her.

     “Why would I be devastated?  He was just having dinner with an old acquainted.  That’s no big deal.”

     “That’s not what the cable news commentators are saying. They said they looked happy together, like they belonged together.”  He slammed her against him. “Like us,” he said, and put his lips to hers.