Mark Coffin U.S.S. by Drury Allen

Author:Drury, Allen [Drury, Allen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Politics
ISBN: 9780441519651
Amazon: 0441519652
Goodreads: 1530909
Publisher: Ace
Published: 1979-01-01T08:00:00+00:00

Book III

***

Chapter 1

The consequences of this were of course inevitable, though for a brief while he thought there might be none save his disgust with himself. It was deep and ravaging and seemed punishment enough.

If this had been some grand earth-shaking passion, it might possibly have been another matter. But he was quite honest enough with himself to see it for exactly what it was: an ambitious girl who liked the aphrodisiac of power and enjoyed adding prominent names to her list just for the hell of it—and a disgruntled boy-wonder who had let himself go off the deep end because he had received his first setback in Washington.

Humiliation—intention—opportunity—and, finally, desire; quite genuine at the moment, but immediately after, as empty as though it had never been.

But it had been, all right, and when he awoke next morning it was with the unhappy expectation that Linda would be waiting for him with well-grounded suspicions and clear-eyed accusations. But not at all. It was almost ten when she awoke him with an affectionate pounding on his back and the cheerful cry, “Senator, we’re voting in five minutes!”

“My God!” he cried, rearing up and then sinking back as she began to laugh. “Don’t scare me like that!” He gave her a quick, intent look. To his amazed relief, all, apparently, was sunny and serene. “What time is it, anyway?”

“Quarter to ten, and you really had better get along to the Hill. The nominations are being sent up today, you know.”

“Have I slept that late?”

She laughed.

“You didn’t get in until three. It’s only natural.”

“I was with Chuck,” he said—Lie No. 1, not strictly untruthful but not exactly truthful, either—but he was sure Chuck would back him up on it if she ever asked—and maybe Lie No. 1 would thereby never have to be followed by Lie No. 2, No. 3, No. 4, No.—

“Did you get the President safely to bed?” she asked as he threw off the covers and started for the bathroom. “And was he tight, too?”

“Was I tight?” he demanded, turning back in mock disbelief. “I can’t believe it.”

“You were tight. I’ve never seen you like that. But, then, you’ve never been to an Inaugural, either; so I guess you deserved to have some fun. Was it fun?”

“It was quite an experience,” he said truthfully. “I had no idea what a rat race it is, from one Inaugural Ball to another.”

“Did you and the President make them all?”

“It was tough,” he said with a careful precision, “but everybody managed. Your dad and Lyddie and the rest of them dropped by the wayside around midnight at the Washington Hilton, but Chuck had joined us by then and asked me if I’d like to go on with him. It was quite an evening.”

“Did you see Lisette?” she asked—casually, not casually.

“Sure,” he said, feeling a sudden tension but managing an easy reply. “She was at the Mayflower and went on to Kennedy Center with us, but then she dropped out, too. She said she was tired out.

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