The Reluctant First Lady (15 page)

Ashley moved toward the front entrance of the museum. Time to get things started.

Robert Cameron suddenly appeared to stand beside her. She greeted him warmly with a hug. “I hope everything meets with your approval.” Ashley smiled up at him.

Robert nodded. “How could it not? Each year you up the ante on your creative genius. The museum looks spectacular. Thank you for all of the effort you put in to making this annual event so special. Is Michael coming?”

“No, unfortunately. Dealing with the security necessary for him to attend would have been a nightmare. As it is, I’m not thrilled about all the security that’s necessary just for me. I hope you’re not upset about it.”

“On the contrary, I believe it’s quite necessary. Are you forgetting you’re married to the next president of the United States and your safety must be guarded? Remember, Ashley, my museums are getting a lot of free publicity because of you right now. We’re reaping the benefits of your notoriety. By the way, I’d like to speak to you later about a sensitive matter when you have time. Why don’t you give me a call tomorrow, and we’ll see if we can find a good time to meet?”

“Will do. Right now my only concern is assuring the success of this evening, but I’ll call you first thing in the morning. Now I believe it’s time to get things started.” She nodded to one of the museum employees and indicated with a turn of her wrist to unlock the front doors.

As the guests entered, Ashley greeted each one individually, always remembering some personal tidbit of information.

“Mr. and Mrs. Nystrom, I’m so glad you could make it. How’s Carmine faring at Vassar?”

“Mr. and Mrs. Binkman, it’s such a pleasure to see you again. Did you finally get away to Barbados? Last time I saw you, you were looking forward to the trip.”

Ashley was fortunate to have a photographic memory, so it wasn’t hard to recall some piece of personal information from her index of thoughts. However, she didn’t rely on her memory completely; she also kept a journal with personal information about the various patrons of the museum.

Soon the museum was filled with a low buzzing sound from the hundreds of conversations taking place. Old friends reconnected and were introduced to new acquaintances. Throughout dinner, conversations grew louder, aided by alcohol and the clattering of tableware. The New York elite took great pleasure in a meal well prepared and presented. They felt privilege was their due and loved hobnobbing in the company of the woman married to the future president of the United States.

After dessert was served, Ashley made her way to the orchestra and makeshift dance floor. She stepped up to the microphone. “Welcome and good evening. I’m sorry for the interruption. I hope you’ve all enjoyed your dinner. And, for those of you still eating, I promise I’ll be brief.” She waited while her guests quieted and refocused on the woman they were all curious about.

“First, welcome to the Cameron Museum of Art and ‘A Galaxy Far, Far Away.’ Thank you all for coming to our extravaganza tonight and for your continued support of the museum. The support you give so willingly allows us to continue to offer outstanding programs and events for all ages. My experience has shown me that New Yorkers are among the most generous people on earth. I hope you have a wonderful time this evening, and if there’s anything you need, don’t hesitate to ask for it. Thank you for coming.” She finished by applauding the group of people around the main room.

As Ashley finished her welcoming speech, Robert approached the microphone and extended his hand to her. As was their tradition, she and Robert began the evening’s dancing with the first dance. The orchestra played ‘Starry, Starry Night’ as she and Robert glided across the floor under the star-studded sky.

“Another successful opening. I’m surprised you’re not interested in assuming the role of the First Lady. You’re a natural hostess.”

Ashley stiffened.

Robert added, “Now, don’t get your dander up. It’s a natural comment to make. I’ve known you too many years to measure my words. What I said is true. However, I respect your decision to keep working. After all, as I said earlier, my museums are getting a lot of free publicity because of you.”

“I’m sorry, Robert. I’m extremely touchy about the whole subject. The decision I made was never about my feeling I couldn’t handle the responsibilities of being the First Lady. It’s just a job I don’t want. I’ve never wanted to be part of the political arena. Michael hasn’t been sworn in yet, and I’m being hounded by the press until I’m about ready to scream. My privacy is nonexistent, and I’m going to have to live with this for at least four more years and who knows how many years after that. There’s no question I was naïve to believe I could simply walk away unscathed. But I’m hoping in time people will accept my position and there won’t be as much of an uproar about it.”

“Maybe they will eventually. Stranger things have happened.”

“You don’t believe that, do you?” Ashley looked up at her boss.

“I think you’ve got the whole nation debating the issue, and perhaps it’s time to re-evaluate the necessity of the First Lady role and entertain the possibility that a woman should get to choose. But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t sympathize with Michael.”

“I know. I imagine all men, and many women, do,” Ashley said. “Thanks for the dance. Now it’s time for me to get back to work. If I don’t get another chance to talk to you tonight, I’ll give you a call first thing tomorrow morning so we can set up a time to meet.”

Ashley turned and headed toward the food service area where the waitstaff and caterers were working. She worked her way through the crowd, stopping to speak to several groups of people she encountered on the way. She listened intently to what they had to say and laughed easily at the various anecdotes. She was the ultimate hostess.

Geoffrey Carruthers watched her as she moved with ease from one group of people to another. She looked exquisite tonight. Their paths had crossed many times before at various fund-raisers and charity events. They weren’t strangers, but something was different tonight. He felt drawn to her like a moth to a flame.

Ashley sensed she was being watched and turned to scan the room of familiar faces. Her eyes stopped when she recognized Mr. Carruthers, billionaire, land developer, and international playboy. He was staring at her intently. He lifted his champagne glass to her in a mock salute. How odd. She nodded slightly to acknowledge his presence before turning her attention back to the conversation at hand. She knew she’d have an opportunity to greet him before the night was over.

It was well known that Mr. Carruthers was a ruthless and cunning businessman, and his wealth was an obvious testimony to that truth. He enjoyed the hunt and challenge that his various enterprises and holdings brought him. He was like a panther on the prowl, ready to spring into action and consume any unsuspecting or wounded business he encountered.

His reputation with women was unparalleled. Rumors portrayed him as a gifted womanizer, capable of making any woman feel as if she were the most important thing in his life. He was also an unabashed flirt. He seemed to take great pride in outmaneuvering his prey. The women who were the targets of his relentless pursuits blossomed under his steady and deliberate attention, unaware they were about to be eaten alive.

Geoffrey had been keeping track of Ashley’s movements since he first arrived at the museum. He’d always thought she was beautiful but definitely off-limits due to her unapproachable demeanor where men were concerned. Now, with her recent announcement rejecting the role of the First Lady, he suspected all was not well within the Taylor household. What kind of woman would turn down being the First Lady? He certainly intended to find out. He had to admit, she intrigued him. She was a surprise, and he was rarely, if ever, surprised anymore. There was far more depth to her than he’d previously imagined, and he was determined to find out a great deal more about her.

He drifted over to an area that Ashley would have to pass when she left the catering area. He wanted a few minutes of her time. Without an awareness of where his mind was drifting, he was already fabricating a reason to meet with her outside the museum.

Ashley stepped away from the banquet table and turned to rejoin her guests. As she headed toward one of their more generous benefactors, she felt a warm hand encircle her arm. She turned to see who was delaying her and came face to face with not only Geoffrey Carruthers but also her Secret Service agents.

“Mr. Carruthers, please remove your hand from Mrs. Taylor’s arm.”

Ashley looked at Matt and Dave. “You don’t need to worry that I’ll be whisked away by Mr. Carruthers; he’s an old acquaintance.”

Matt and Dave were unimpressed. They were tired of babysitting her. They were tired of trying to convince her that anyone
, anyone
, could be a potential threat. And if anyone could get to her, anyone would have the leverage they needed to get to the president.

Geoffrey dropped his hand from Ashley’s arm and spoke to the agents. “I apologize for alarming you, especially since you’re carrying those big guns,” he joked. “I just wanted a quick word with Mrs. Taylor. I can assure you, she’s perfectly safe with me.” He almost choked on his words.

Ashley was embarrassed to have Mr. Carruthers spoken to as if he were a threat. After all, he was a guest of the museum. She addressed Matt and Dave. “Why don’t the two of you get something to drink? There are several nonalcoholic beverages being offered. I assure you I have no intention of leaving this room, so you’ll have no problem keeping me under surveillance.”

That seemed to satisfy the two agents because they moved away from Ashley back to their original position, completely ignoring the offer of refreshments. From their vantage point, they continued to monitor the exchange between Ashley and Mr. Carruthers. They knew him by reputation only, but there was something about him that bothered them, and they had learned to trust their instincts. He behaved like a man on the prowl.

Ashley turned and said, “Hello, Mr. Carruthers. I’m sorry for the confrontational display of security although I’m sure a man like you is keenly aware of the pitfalls of dealing with security and bodyguards. I’m glad you stopped me; I haven’t had a chance to welcome you to tonight’s affair. I’m glad you were able to make it. I hope you’re enjoying yourself.”

“I am although I’ll have to admit that many of the events I attend bore me. Congratulations on another well-executed gala. You’ve created a very otherworldly atmosphere. Quite charming. Everyone I’ve talked to appreciates your ability to create such original and entertaining themes.”

“Thank you. Your presence always makes things extra special.”

“I don’t know about that. I think New Yorkers, more than most, enjoy good artistic expression in whatever form it takes. I suspect after attending one of your fund-raisers, most people would keep their calendars open for any of your future events. Your artistic sense of beauty is truly quite extraordinary. Have you ever thought of leaving the museum to pursue other lines of work?”

Ashley laughed. “Actually, I recently received a job offer, which I turned down.” Why did she say that? She hardly knew Mr. Carruthers. “I love my work. I love being around such beautiful and timeless pieces of art and feel extremely lucky to work for the museum.”

“You must love your work to reject being the First Lady. Most women would have jumped at the chance.”

“Maybe it’s never occurred to others to refuse the position,” Ashley countered.

“I have to say, I feel sorry for your husband,” Geoffrey pushed.

“Do you feel equally sorry for me?”

“Now you’ve put me on the spot. It’s natural for me to identify more with your husband than with you. Yet I do understand your passion for your work, but even though I understand the reasons you made the choice you did, I don’t agree with it. I guess I’m old-fashioned.”

Ashley reminded herself, as the director of the museum, she must be pleasant to all of her guests, no matter how badly she might be provoked. As far as Geoffrey Carruthers being old-fashioned—
what a crock
.

“I suppose I should get used to hearing people say they don’t agree with my decision. It may be too much to hope that those who are more cosmopolitan, like you, might come to understand and accept the stand I’ve taken.”

“You’ve overlooked the fact that the more money people generally have, the more entrenched they are in maintaining the status quo and tradition. You’re very naïve. I don’t mean that as an insult; in fact, I find it rather charming.”

Oh, no insult taken, buster. I love philandering playboy billionaires thinking of me as naïve.
Ashley was surprised that Mr. Carruthers was being so bold and outspoken with her. He’d hardly spoken to her before tonight, and their previous exchanges were never more than a polite greeting. She was annoyed that she couldn’t tell him exactly where to go with his opinions.

“Everyone is entitled to his own opinion. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

“Wait, I didn’t mean to make you mad.”

Of course you didn’t. You just wanted to share your opinions, whether they offended me or not.
“Whatever makes you think I’m mad?” Ashley smiled. “My responsibilities include seeing to all of my guests, and it’s time I do that, so please excuse me. I hope the rest of your evening is enjoyable. Thank you for coming.”

“Wait. Before you go, would you do me the honor of a dance?”

“Persistent, aren’t you?” Ashley said charmingly. “Is that how you win so many of your acquisitions, by wearing your opponents down?”

“I hope you don’t think of yourself as an opponent. Nothing could be further from the truth. I highly admire you. Now, how about that dance?”

Ashley noted Geoffrey’s relaxed posture. He always appeared cool and controlled. She wondered if that were true. He was very good-looking and could be quite charming. He loved women and seemed to collect them easily. The press followed him around like royalty, and they loved the juicy stories he seemed to create in his wake.

She knew it would be bad form to turn down his offer to dance, and so did he. He was one of the museum’s biggest financial supporters and had recently inquired about a board position. Plus, it would be rude, and she couldn’t allow her personal feelings to interfere with her business sense. “Shall we?” Ashley turned toward the dance floor.