First, he'd lock up the TPD in his desk drawer again and see that Gin did not get another chance to pick the lock.
Then he'd take the offensive. She'd learned about the president, something he'd been desperate to keep secret. The worst thing to do then would be to retreat. That would confirm that he had something to hide. So do the opposite, the unexpected. Don't lock her out. Welcome her in. Show his hand, but only those cards that have already been exposed Which was exactly what he had done. He'd sounded so 0, open this morning, he'd almost scared himself.
<,"t The result, Gin was not only thoroughly off balance, but literally starstruck at the opportunity to assist on the . president's surgery.
She was honored, for God's sake.
Maybe he'd overestimated Gin.
He shook off the irritation and reviewed the last element of -- his plan, keeping Oliver out of this. Oliver usually took Wednesdays off and today was no exception. But just to be sure, he'd called him and told him that he mllst not, under any circumstances, mention their conversation of last night to Gin. Not until Duncan had a chance to talk to her today.
This was crucial because if Gin ever learned that Duncan was aware that she already knew about the president, his credibility would crumble, and with it, his plan.
Now he had only to keep them apart until dinner tonight.
After that, it wouldn't matter.
Duncan rubbed his tired, burning eyes. If only there were another way out of this. He'd walked the floor most of the night trying to come up with one. He couldn't.
A wave of nausea rippled across his stomach.
Lord, he wished this night were over.
The phone rang. It was Duncan.
'"Are you ready? " '"Of course I'm ready, " Gin said. "You said seven-thirty, didn't you? Don't tell me you haven't left yet. ' "I'm crossing the Ellington as we speak. I'll be there momentarily." The wonder of the cellular phone, Gin thought as she hung up.
She assumed from the call that Duncan didn't want her to keep him waiting. The Duke Ellington Bridge was less than minute away and no doubt he expected her to be standing downstairs in the vestibule when he arrived. Oliver would probably be glad to run up and escort her down, but why make him go to the trouble?
She checked herself one last time in the mirror. The little black dress Mama always told her to keep in her wardrobe certainly had come in handy today. When she'd returned from Louisiana she'd invested in a slinky little Donna Karan number, nicely fitted, with a jewel neckline.
She'd added a short string of pearls and pearl earrings. Simple but elegant. The perfect look for all those receptions on Capitol Hill she'd dreamed of attending. So far the dress hadn't left the closet.
Tonight would be its coming out. At Galileo. Not too shabby a spot for its debut.
The forecast was wet so she threw her raincoat over her shoulders and headed downstairs. Duncan's black Mercedes pulled up a moment later.
He got out and opened the front passenger door for her. As she slid in she glanced in the back. Empty.
"Where's Oliver? " "A little under the weather. That stomach thing that's going around.
He sends his regrets and says, Galileo or not, he can't even think of food tonight." '"Oh, that's terrible. Let's call him right after dinner and see how he feels."
"I think he was going to crawl into bed and pull the covers over his head until morning."
"No one to take care of him? " She couldn't resist seizing the moment to satisfy her curiosity about Oliver. Have I no shame? "No friends to look in on him? ' "Oliver is one of the most self-sufficient people I know. He has a maid come in once a week, otherwise he's alone and .
.
. , quite happy to be so. No wife, no kids, no mistress, and no, he's not a homosexual." '"I never thought, " , . "If you did, you wouldn't be the first."
"Poor Oliver. I feel bad for him. Didn't you say this dinner was his idea7" "I was going to call it off but he insisted that we not stand you up. So tonight I'll have to be myself and Oliver as well."
"Does that mean you're going to be eating for two? " "Yes.
With lots of garlic." Gin noticed that Duncan's smile seemed a little forced. He looked tense, his posture stiff. He seemed generally uneasy. Because of her?
Could it be he was uncomfortable taking a young female employee out to dinner?
But Duncan rarely gave a damn what anyone else thought - of him.
The Mercedes cruised down Connecticut like a battleship on a lake. She'd never been in Duncan's car before. She felt invulnerable as she watched the shops and hotels along Connecticut roll past on the other side of the tinted glass. They cruised around Dupont Circle, then turned right onto M Street A left on Twenty-first Street and they were there.
"Galileo, " he said as they pulled into the garage next door. A simple maroon canopy jutted out from what looked like an officer building.
"Where the effete elite meet to eat." Gin decided to go him one better. "Where the voracious and edacious mendacious can wax loquacious while looking gracious, sedacious, and perspicacious. " There. That was two or three better.
Duncan stared at her a moment, then said, "That, my dear, was a thing of beauty." But he wasn't smiling. His expression was strange.
Almost . . .
pained.
What's eating him tonight? she wondered.
Her before-dinner manhattan was perfect, the mezze lune di granachio was superb, the service impeccable, and the wine Duncan ordered, a I 984 amarone, as smooth as silk. Galileo's spare decor was not what she'd expected. No heavy Mediterranean drapes and furniture.
Everything was light and understated. But the mood at their table was anything but light. At times the conversation actually dragged, something she would have thought impossible in Duncan's presence. He didn't rant, didn't launch into a single tirade. Even when Larry King and Senator Rockefeller arrived and were seated three tables away, Duncan managed only a few disparaging remarks. At times she'd find him staring at her, his eyes intent on her face, other times he'd be a million miles away. He picked at his veal and barely sipped his wine, but kept refilling her glass. She wondered if he might be coming down with what Oliver had.
She wished she could get a grip on this jigsaw puzzle of a man. Every time she thought she had him figured, a new piece would pop up requiring her to rearrange everything and start over again.
She watched him stare into his half-full glass of wine for the longest time
"Are you okay? " He looked up. "Hmmm? Yes. Fine." '"You seem down." He shrugged. "Just thinking about life, the twists and turns it takes you through. The cruel tricks it plays on you." "Some of the tricks are funny, " she said.
"Sometimes we back ourselves into corners, " he said, as if she hadn't spoken, "and we despise the means necessary to extricate ourselves. ' What was wrong with him tonight?
"Do you want dessert? " he said as the waiter was clearing the dinner plates.
"I don't think I could eat another thing. But I could go for some coffee."
"Leave the coffee to me, " he said. "I don't care if this is one of the best restaurants inside the beltway, their coffee can't hold a candle to mine. We'll have real coffee back at the office." She considered begging off, but realized she couldn't deny Duncan his coffee ritual. Maybe it would pull him out of his funk. Besides, it was only a few miles out of the way.
After Duncan paid the bill, Gin rose and felt a little wobbly. She realized that she'd consumed most of the amarone.
As she stood staring at the languid koi in the rock garden pool beyond Duncan's offwce window, Gin wondered if there was any place on earth she'd feel less comfortable than Duncan's officer. This was where she'd broken into his drawer, where just yesterday she'd been sneaking through his bookshelf. And here he was toiling a dozen feet away making her what he called the best coffee in the world.