A15 The Best Laid Plans - 1997 by Sidney Sheldon

Author:Sidney Sheldon
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

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“Mr. President.”

He took her hand, and it was moist. It’s a sign, Oliver thought. But of what? Nervousness? Anger? Old memories? “I’m so glad you came, Leslie.”

“Yes. I am, too.” “We’l talk later.” Her smile warmed him. “Yes.”

Two tables away from where Oliver was seated was a group of Arab diplomats. One of them, a swarthy man with sharply etched features and dark

eyes, seemed to be staring intently at Oliver.

Oliver leaned over to Peter Tager and nodded toward the Arab. “Who’s that?”

Tager took a quick look. “Ali al-Fulani. He’s the secretary at one of the United Arab Emirates. Why do you ask?”

“No reason.” Oliver looked again. The man’s eyes were stil focused on him.

Oliver spent the evening working the room, making his guests feel comfortable. Sylva was at one table, Leslie at another. It was not until the evening

was almost over that Oliver managed to get Leslie alone for a moment. “We need to talk. I have a lot to tel you. Can we meet somewhere?”

There was the faintest hesitation in her voice. “Oliver, perhaps it would be better if we didn’t “

“I have a house in Manassas, Virginia, about an hour out of Washington. Wil you meet me there?”

She looked into his eyes. This time there was no hesitation. “If you want me to.”

Oliver described the location of the house. “Tomorrow night at eight?”

Leslie’s voice was husky. “I’l be there.”

At a National Security Council meeting the fol owing morning, Director of Central Intel igence James Frisch dropped a bombshel . “Mr. President,

we received word this morning that Libya is buying a variety of atomic weapons from Iran and China. There’s a strong rumor that they’re going to be

used to attack Israel. It wil take a day or two to get a confirmation.” Lou Werner, the secretary of state, said, “I don’t think we should wait. Let’s

protest now, in the strongest possible terms.” Oliver said to Werner, “See what additional information you can get.” The meeting lasted al morning.

From time to time, Oliver found himself thinking about the rendezvous with Leslie. “Charm her, my boy…. You’ve got to win her over.”

On Saturday evening, Oliver was in one of the White House staff cars, driven by a trusted Secret Service agent, heading for Manassas, Virginia. He

was strongly tempted to cancel the rendezvous, but it was too late. I’m worrying for no reason. She probably won’t even show up.

At eight o’clock, Oliver looked out the window and saw Leslie’s car pul into the driveway of the senator’s house. He watched her get out of the car

and move toward the entrance. Oliver opened the front door. The two of them stood there, silently staring at each other, and time disappeared and

somehow it was as though they had never been apart. Oliver was the first to find his voice. “My God! Last night when I saw you … I had almost

forgotten how beautiful you are.” Oliver took Leslie’s hand, and they walked into the living room. “What would you like to drink?” “I don’t need

anything.

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