The Best Laid Plans. Sidney Sheldon
Henry took her on a tour, and as Leslie looked around, she thought, This isn’t going to bring down a governor or a president. But it was a stepping-stone. She had plans for it.
Leslie was interested in everything she saw. She kept asking Henry questions, and he kept referring them to Lyle Bannister, the managing editor. Leslie was amazed at how little Henry seemed to know about the newspaper business and how little he cared. It made her all the more determined to learn everything she could.
It happened at the Borgata, a restaurant in a castlelike old Italian village setting. The dinner was superb. They had enjoyed a lobster bisque, medallions of veal with a sauce béarnaise, white asparagus vinaigrette, and a Grand Marnier soufflé. Henry Chambers was charming and easy to be with, and it had been a beautiful evening.
‘I love Phoenix,’ Henry was saying. ‘It’s hard to believe that only fifty years ago the population here was just sixty-five thousand. Now it’s over a million.’
Leslie was curious about something. ‘What made you decide to leave Kentucky and move here, Henry?’
He shrugged. ‘It wasn’t my decision, really. It was my damned lungs. The doctors didn’t know how long I had to live. They told me Arizona would be the best climate for me. So I decided to spend the rest of my life – whatever that means – living it up.’ He smiled at her. ‘And here we are.’ He took her hand in his. ‘When they told me how good it would be for me, they had no idea. You don’t think I’m too old for you, do you?’ he asked anxiously.
Leslie smiled. ‘Too young. Much too young.’
Henry looked at her for a long moment. ‘I’m serious. Will you marry me?’
Leslie closed her eyes for a moment. She could see the hand-painted wooden sign on the Breaks Interstate Park trail: LESLIE, WILL YOU MARRY ME? … ‘I’m afraid I can’t promise you that you’re going to marry a governor, but I’m a pretty good attorney.’
Leslie opened her eyes and looked up at Henry. ‘Yes, I want to marry you.’ More than anything in the world.
They were married two weeks later.
When the wedding announcement appeared in the Lexington Herald-Leader, Senator Todd Davis studied it for a long time. ‘I’m sorry to bother you, Senator, but I wonder if I could see you? I need a favor … Do you know Henry Chambers? … I’d appreciate it if you’d introduce me to him.’
If that’s all she was up to, there would be no problem.
If that’s all she was up to.
Leslie and Henry honeymooned in Paris, and wherever they went, Leslie wondered whether Oliver and Jan had visited those same places, walked those streets, dined there, shopped there. She pictured the two of them together, making love, Oliver whispering the same lies into Jan’s ears that he had whispered into hers. Lies that he was going to pay dearly for.
Henry sincerely loved her and went out of his way to make her happy. Under other circumstances, Leslie might have fallen in love with him, but something deep within her had died. I can never trust any man again.
A few days after they returned to Phoenix, Leslie surprised Henry by saying, ‘Henry, I’d like to work at the paper.’
He laughed. ‘Why?’
‘I think it would be interesting. I was an executive at an advertising agency. I could probably help with that part.’
He protested, but in the end, he gave in.
Henry noticed that Leslie read the Lexington Herald-Leader every day.
‘Keeping up with the hometown folks?’ he teased her.
‘In a way,’ Leslie smiled. She avidly read every word that was written about Oliver. She wanted him to be happy and successful. The bigger they are …
When Leslie pointed out to Henry that the Star was losing money, he laughed. ‘Honey, it’s a drop in the bucket. I’ve got money coming in from places you never even heard of. It doesn’t matter.’
But it mattered to Leslie. It mattered a great deal. As she began to get more and more involved in the running of the newspaper, it seemed to her that the biggest reason it was losing money was the unions. The Phoenix Star’s presses were outdated, but the unions refused to let the newspaper put in new equipment, because they said it would cost union members their jobs. They were currently negotiating a new contract with the Star.
When Leslie discussed the situation with Henry, he said, ‘Why do you want to bother with stuff like that? Let’s just have fun.’
‘I’m having fun,’ Leslie assured him.
Leslie had a meeting with Craig McAllister, the Star’s attorney.
‘How are the negotiations going?’
‘I wish I had better news, Mrs Chambers, but I’m afraid the situation doesn’t look good.’
‘We’re still in negotiation, aren’t we?’
‘Ostensibly. But Joe Riley, the head of the printers’ union, is a stubborn son of a – a stubborn man. He won’t give an inch. The pressmen’s contract is up in ten days, and Riley says if the union doesn’t have a new contract by then, they’re going to walk.’
‘Do you believe him?’
‘Yes. I don’t like to give in to the unions, but the reality is that without them, we have no newspaper. They can shut us down. More than one publication has collapsed because it tried to buck the unions.’
‘What are they asking?’
‘The usual. Shorter hours, raises, protection against future automation …’
‘They’re squeezing us, Craig. I don’t like it.’
‘This is not an emotional issue, Mrs Chambers. This is a practical issue.’
‘So your advice is to give in?’
‘I don’t think we have a choice.’
‘Why don’t I have a talk with Joe Riley?’
The meeting was set for two o’clock, and Leslie was late coming back from lunch. When she walked into the reception office, Riley was waiting, chatting with Leslie’s secretary, Amy, a pretty, dark-haired young woman.
Joe Riley was a rugged-looking Irishman in his middle forties. He had been a pressman for more than fifteen years. Three years earlier he had been appointed head of his union and had earned the reputation of being the toughest negotiator in the business. Leslie stood there for a moment, watching him flirting with Amy.
Riley was saying, ‘… and then the man turned to her and said, “That’s easy for you to say, but how will I get back?’”
Amy laughed. ‘Where do you hear those, Joe?’
‘I get around, darlin’. How about dinner tonight?’
‘I’d love it.’
Riley looked up and saw Leslie. ‘Afternoon, Mrs Chambers.’
‘Good afternoon, Mr Riley. Come in, won’t you?’
Riley and Leslie were seated in the newspaper’s conference room. ‘Would you like some coffee?’ Leslie offered.
‘No, thanks.’
‘Anything stronger?’
He grinned. ‘You know it’s against the rules to drink during company hours, Mrs Chambers.’
Leslie took a deep breath. ‘I wanted the two of us to have a talk because I’ve heard that you’re a very fair man.’
‘I try to be,’ Riley said.
‘I want you to know that I’m sympathetic to the union. I think