Hunching forward in the chair so far that Jane feared he would spill the bottle onto the carpeting, O’Brien said, “Look, Senator, it would damage your credibility and his if you two are screwing around.”
“We’re not screwing around!” Jane snapped.
“Excuse me. Having an affair.”
“Not that, either.”
“Well, for god’s sake, don’t give the appearance of having an affair,” O’Brien insisted. “Once the media latches onto the slightest hint, the tiniest little whiff, they’ll be all over the both of you. Any hopes you have for him and the White House will go right down the toilet.”
“We’re not having an affair,” Jane said, knowing that while it was true, it was not the whole truth.
Flashback: The Day of the Bridges
It was the Fourth of July, and the day was clean and warm and dry as Dan drove Jane Thornton in the rented convertible down Route 101 after a morning of wine tasting in the Napa Valley vineyards. She was Senator Thornton now; during the fourteen months he’d been away in Japan, Jane had been appointed to the U.S. Senate. Yet she was just as beautiful and desirable as the day he’d left, and she appeared to love him as much as he loved her.
Dan’s gray eyes sparkled happily; his nose hadn’t yet been broken. As they sped along the highway, the warm wind ruffled her auburn hair while the brilliant sunshine made the waters of the bay shimmer. Over the rush of the wind Dan rattled away about the work he’d been doing in Japan.
“It’s only a demonstration satellite,” he said, his voice raised to be heard above the wind, “but we’ve got it working, actually sending energy to the ground.”
Jane nodded and smiled and said nothing.
When they passed Sausalito, Dan pulled off onto Bunker Road.
“We’re not going back to the city?” Jane asked, shouting.
“I want to show you the prettiest site in the country,” he yelled back. “Point Bonita.”
When he finally pulled into a parking area, Jane saw that he’d been right. They were high above the ocean; the Pacific glittered before them, and, on their left, the bridge arched gracefully across the Golden Gate, glowing like molten gold in the late afternoon sun.
“Point Bonita,” Jane said, as they walked slowly along the grassy height. “The name fits.”
“Sure does.”
She looked at him. “So you’re going back to Japan.”
Nodding: “And when I finish my contract with Yamagata I’m coming back here and start to build a real power satellite. Full scale. Deliver twenty gigawatts to the ground. Maybe fifty.”
“For Yamagata?”
“For me. For the U.S. of A. For anybody who’s smart enough to invest in the project.”
“That’ll take some doing,” she said.
“I can do it, Jane. I know I can. I can do this. It’s important, and I can make it work.”
Jane smiled at him.
“Don’t give me that condescending smile,” he said, grinning back at her. “We can generate energy from space. Lots of energy.”
“If anyone can, it would be you,” she conceded.
Feeling uncertainty rising inside him, Dan tried to explain. “Jane, this is important to me. To the whole world. I wasn’t born rich, like you. I had to scratch my way through college. Yamagata hired me because I believed in what he’s doing. Now I want to get out on my own, I want to be somebody. This is my chance, Jane, my chance to accomplish something nobody else has been able to do.”
“Except Yamagata,” she pointed out.
“Pah! His little demo satellite isn’t enough. Nowhere near it. I’m going to build the big one, the prototype for all the powersats to come.”
“If you can get the financial backing.”
“I’ll get it,” he said fervently. “You just watch me.”
Jane smiled again, but this time it was more admiring. “I believe you, Dan. I believe you will. You won’t let anything stand in your way, will you?”
“Not a damned thing,” he said. Then he pulled her into his arms and kissed her. “But I need you with me, Jane. This past year has been miserable without you.”
“I’ve missed you, too, Dan.”
“Will you marry me?”
Her eyes went wide. “Marry you?”
“I love you, Jane Thornton. I love you madly,” he said. “And sanely.”
She leaned her head against his shoulder. “You’re sure?”
He grinned down at her. “From the first time you flashed those gorgeous green eyes at me I was a goner.”
“That’s very flattering.”
“I mean it. Of course, I didn’t know you were going to become a senator. And you were the first person I’d seen in that convention hall who wasn’t smoking a cigar.”
Jane laughed. “I love you, too.”
“Really?”
“Of course. What woman wouldn’t? You can charm a snake out of its skin-when you want to.”
“Now that’s flattery!”
“You can be awfully stubborn, too.”
“I’m not stubborn. I’m a man of principle. Other people are stubborn, not me.”
Jane laughed. But then, “Seriously, Dan. Marriage is a serious step. Are you prepared to be Mr. Senator Thornton?”
Now he blinked with surprise. “But I thought you’d come back to Japan with me.”
“And resign my seat in the Senate?”
“Well… maybe when your term is finished, then.”
She fell silent. They walked along the crest of the height, their arms entwined about each other’s waists.
Dan took a breath. “Jane, you’re the most fantastic person I’ve ever met. You’re smart, strong, beautiful, wealthy—but most of all, you’re honest. Straight up-and-down honest. You never play games with anyone. You say what you mean and you mean what you say. So what’s your answer? And don’t tell me you weren’t expecting this.”
“Frankly, I wasn’t.”
“I told you not to tell me that,” he joked.
“I didn’t realize you were the marrying kind, Dan. I thought you were in love with your power satellite.”
“I am,” he admitted. “But I love you more. I need you. I don’t want to go back to Japan without you.”
Her face grew serious, almost sad. “I’ve got to make a decision about running for reelection.”
“Reelection? But I thought—”
“I was wondering, Dan,” she asked, almost wistfully, “how would you feel about being a senator’s husband?”
“Move to Washington? Quit Yamagata?”
“It wouldn’t be easy for you, I know. But you could start your own company in Washington, couldn’t you? I could help you; I know a lot of very influential people.”
“I’ve got to finish my contract with Yamagata,” he said. “I can’t run out on him. Bad enough I’m going to go into competition with him afterward.”
“You don’t really have to go back to Japan, do you?”
“You’ve definitely decided to run for reelection?”
She hesitated a heartbeat. Then, “Not set-in-concrete definitely, no.”
Dan squinted at the lowering Sun, then abruptly turned back toward the parking area. “We’d better talk about this over dinner.”
She glanced out toward the ocean. The sun was close to setting. Already the sky was turning flame red. He needs time to think about this, she realized. He’s made a major step in asking me to marry him. Now I’m asking him to completely scramble his plans.
“Over dinner,” she agreed. Reluctantly.
In the bathroom of the suite they’d taken at the St. Mark’s, Dan was slathering foamy white lather across his face, wearing the fluffy terrycloth robe that the hotel provided. Quit Yamagata’s project and move to Washington, he was thinking. Become Senator Thornton’s husband. He picked up his razor. She’d never come to Japan; it’d be stupid for me to ask her to give up everything she’s achieved just to marry me.