The Best Laid Plans. Sidney Sheldon
Oliver’s office. ‘You wanted to see me, Oliver?’
‘I need a favor. It’s personal.’
Peter nodded. ‘Anything I can do.’
‘I need an apartment.’
Tager glanced around the large room in mock disbelief. ‘This place is too small for you, Governor?’
‘No.’ Oliver looked into Tager’s one good eye. ‘Sometimes I have private meetings at night. They have to be discreet. You know what I mean?’
There was an uncomfortable pause. ‘Yes.’
‘I want someplace away from the center of town. Can you handle that for me?’
‘I guess so.’
‘This is just between us, of course.’
Peter Tager nodded, unhappily.
One hour later, Tager telephoned Senator Davis in Washington.
‘Oliver asked me to rent an apartment for him, Senator. Something discreet.’
‘Did he now? Well, he’s learning, Peter. He’s learning. Do it. Just make damned sure Jan never hears about it.’ The senator was thoughtful for a moment. ‘Find him a place out in Indian Hills. Someplace with a private entrance.’
‘But it’s not right for him to –’
‘Peter – just do it.’
The solution to Leslie’s problem had come in two disparate items in the Lexington Herald-Leader. The first was a long, flattering editorial praising Governor Oliver Russell. The last line read, ‘None of us here in Kentucky who knows him will be surprised when one day Oliver Russell becomes President of the United States.’
The item on the next page read: ‘Henry Chambers, a former Lexington resident, whose horse Lightning won the Kentucky Derby five years ago, and Jessica, his third wife, have divorced. Chambers, who now lives in Phoenix, is the owner and publisher of the Phoenix Star.’
The power of the press. That was real power. Katharine Graham and her Washington Post had destroyed a president.
And that was when the idea jelled.
Leslie had spent the next two days doing research on Henry Chambers. The Internet had some interesting information on him. Chambers was a fifty-five-year-old philanthropist who had inherited a tobacco fortune and had devoted most of his life to giving it away. But it was not his money that interested Leslie.
It was the fact that he owned a newspaper and that he had just gotten a divorce.
Half an hour after her meeting with Senator Davis, Leslie walked into Jim Bailey’s office. ‘I’m leaving, Jim.’
He looked at her sympathetically. ‘Of course. You need a vacation. When you come back, we can –’
‘I’m not coming back.’
‘What? I – I don’t want you to go, Leslie. Running away won’t solve –’
‘I’m not running away.’
‘You’ve made up your mind?’
‘Yes.’
‘We’re going to hate to lose you. When do you want to leave?’
‘I’ve already left.’
Leslie Stewart had given a lot of thought to the various ways in which she could meet Henry Chambers. There were endless possibilities, but she discarded them one by one. What she had in mind had to be planned very carefully. And then she had thought of Senator Davis. Davis and Chambers had the same background, traveled in the same circles. The two men would certainly know each other. That was when Leslie had decided to call the senator.
When Leslie arrived at Sky Harbor Airport in Phoenix, on an impulse, she walked over to the newsstand in the terminal. She bought a copy of the Phoenix Star and scanned it. No luck. She bought the Arizona Republic, and then the Phoenix Gazette, and there it was, the astrological column by Zoltaire. Not that I believe in astrology. I’m much too intelligent for that nonsense. But …
FOR LEO (JULY 23rd to AUGUST 22nd). JUPITER IS JOINING YOUR SUN. ROMANTIC PLANS MADE NOW WILL BE FULFILLED. EXCELLENT PROSPECTS FOR THE FUTURE. PROCEED CAUTIOUSLY.
There was a chauffeur and limousine waiting for her at the curb. ‘Miss Stewart?’
‘Yes.’
‘Mr Chambers sends his regards and asked me to take you to your hotel.’
‘That’s very kind of him.’ Leslie was disappointed. She had hoped that he would come to meet her himself.
‘Mr Chambers would like to know whether you are free to join him for dinner this evening.’
Better. Much better.
‘Please tell him I would be delighted.’
At eight o’clock that evening, Leslie was dining with Henry Chambers. Chambers was a pleasant-looking man, with an aristocratic face, graying brown hair, and an endearing enthusiasm.
He was studying Leslie admiringly. ‘Todd really meant it when he said he was doing me a favor.’
Leslie smiled. ‘Thank you.’
‘What made you decide to come to Phoenix, Leslie?’
You don’t really want to know. ‘I’ve heard so much about it, I thought I might enjoy living here.’
‘It’s a great place. You’ll love it. Arizona has everything – the Grand Canyon, desert, mountains. You can find anything you want here.’
And I have, Leslie thought.
‘You’ll need a place to live. I’m sure I can help you locate something.’
Leslie knew the money she had would last for no more than three months. As it turned out, her plan took no more than two months.
Bookstores were filled with how-to books for women on how to get a man. The various pop psychologies ranged from ‘Play hard to get’ to ‘Get them hooked in bed.’ Leslie followed none of that advice. She had her own method: She teased Henry Chambers. Not physically, but mentally. Henry had never met anyone like her. He was of the old school that believed if a blonde was beautiful, she must be dumb. It never occurred to him that he had always been attracted to women who were beautiful and not overly bright. Leslie was a revelation to him. She was intelligent and articulate and knowledgeable about an amazing range of subjects.
They talked about philosophy and religion and history, and Henry confided to a friend, ‘I think she’s reading up on a lot of things so she can keep up with me.’
Henry Chambers enjoyed Leslie’s company tremendously. He showed her off to his friends and wore her on his arm like a trophy. He took her to the Carefree Wine and Fine Art Festival and to the Actors Theater. They watched the Phoenix Suns play at the America West Arena. They visited the Lyon Gallery in Scottsdale, the Symphony Hall, and the little town of Chandler to see the Doo-dah Parade. One evening, they went to see the Phoenix Roadrunners play hockey.
After the hockey game, Henry said, ‘I really like you a lot, Leslie. I think we’d be great together. I’d like to make love with you.’
She took his hand in hers and said softly, ‘I like you, too, Henry, but the answer is no.’
The following day they had a luncheon date. Henry telephoned Leslie. ‘Why don’t you pick me up at the Star? I want you to see the place.’
‘I’d love to,’ Leslie said. That was what she had been waiting for. There