31

WHENEVER HE WANTED TO go to Carol Singer’s office, Fiore always spent time elsewhere on her floor first. Sometimes he sat in the lounge, drinking coffee and schmoozing with the lawyers who came in. Or he contrived excuses to walk in on one or two of the attorneys whose offices were close to Singer’s before finally stopping at hers. He often addressed her from the doorway, asking questions that others could overhear about loans or other financial matters she was negotiating with the banks on behalf of his clients. Doug was convinced that anyone seeing him close her office door behind him suspected nothing, assuming those visits to be business related also, only more confidential.

Toward midafternoon, Fiore went upstairs and into the library. He sat there for a while, reading back copies of the Wall Street Journal and greeting anyone who approached his table. He took two of the newspapers with him when he left. Instead of heading directly down the corridor to Singer’s office from that end of the library, he took the longer route, around the perimeter of the floor, to where she was located.

Fiore had spent two evenings with Carol since their aborted date on the night she cancelled out at the last minute. The first was a difficult time for him and was over in less than an hour. Carol was obviously crying before he arrived at the hotel room, and she continued, almost incessantly, while he was there. She told him about Bruce’s waffling in regard to the governor’s race and his decision to go forward with it despite her warning that another political campaign could ruin their marriage.

“I’ve been through the long, grueling election process too many times, Doug,” she said. “I won’t do it again, no matter how much Bruce feels he needs me along the way.” Carol punched her fist into the mattress several times for emphasis and cried out that the marriage obviously meant more to her than it did to her husband.

“I hate politics and I hate politicians,” she hollered. “He’s willing to give me up for the next seven months just for his goddam idealism about public service. I keep hearing about the wonderful things he’s going to do for the great people of Rhode Island. As if he’s the only person who can do it. And do you know what happens if he gets elected? Do you know what happens, Doug?”

Fiore shook his head from side to side in response, without saying a word. He knew that anything he said would only stoke the fire.

“It means he’ll be home late half the nights in the week. He’ll have parties, or meetings, or strategy sessions, or fund-raisers, or conventions of one sort or another to go to three weekends out of four. There’ll be governors’ conferences for a week at a time and trips to Europe and Asia to try and bring business into the State. His inside people will always be calling at night to let him know who his latest friends and enemies are, or what he has to promise this one or that one to get some law passed. We’ll have to give dinners for a bunch of dumb State representatives and senators, and fancy parties for his financial backers.

“I’ll be expected to be the gracious hostess at every event. To hell with my own career, put it on hold if I have to. I saw all those things happen when he was lieutenant governor, and it would be even worse if he’s governor. Our privacy would be shot. We’d have hardly any real time together or time to spend with our daughters. We’d grow further and further apart, I know it.” When she finished, Carol threw her head down on the bedspread covering the pillow and sobbed.

Fiore comforted her, but what could he say? This wasn’t the time to let her know he was about to get involved in the thing she hated so much. Would she feel better if he told her he intended to do everything he could to win? It seemed ridiculous to say, “Look, Carol, I’m going to be a Republican candidate for governor, and if I make it through the primary I’ll do whatever it takes to beat your husband in November. You might as well relax and stop worrying about being the governor’s wife because hopefully it will never happen.”

He had no idea how she would react to hearing that. Besides, he still couldn’t reveal to anyone else what was going on. But he told himself that if campaigning successfully meant having to sleep on the road so he could give a speech somewhere early the next morning, it was a price his wife would have to pay. He decided that women like Carol didn’t understand that when a man has a driving ambition to do something, you don’t get in his way. When he was convinced that Carol’s mood wasn’t going to change, Doug told her that it was probably better for her to be by herself, and he left.

They met again the following week and the sex was great. Fiore knew before seeing her that he’d be hearing from Cyril Berman any day about meetings with his fifty-five backers. He assumed that the politicking would keep him going until late each night, too late at least for any early evening twosomes with Carol. He found himself getting horny whenever he thought about her, and wanted everything to go just right.

Carol was feeling good about herself that night. She made up her mind that if Bruce didn’t care enough about her to stay out of politics, she would do whatever she pleased for her personal satisfaction. That meant she could probably see Doug more than the one night a week they usually scheduled for their affair.

As soon as they were alone, each of them wanted to make love right away. There was almost a wildness about it as they held and fondled each other and found positions that brought pleasure and delight to both of them. They napped between their amorous periods, Carol lying in his arms. When she felt his penis pushing hard against her, she awakened him by whispering his name.

He opened his eyes and laughed. “Guess what I was just dreaming?”

“I hope it was me you were doing it with,” she answered, and rose to get on top of him.

* * *

“Can I come in?” Doug asked from the doorway.

Carol was looking the other way, concentrating on some numbers she was entering into her calculator.

“Hi, Doug. Sure.” She was obviously pleased to see him. “Let me just write down this last item before I lose it.”

He closed the door and sat down on the dark oak chair that bore the Wellesley College emblem. Carol received it as a graduation present from a favorite aunt and used it for many years before switching to a leather executive chair that gave her more comfort. She and Fiore hadn’t talked to each other since being together the previous Thursday night.

He spoke softly. “You were really great the other night.”

She smiled. “You weren’t so bad yourself.”

“I wish we could have had about three more hours. We were both on a high.”

Her smile broadened. “My rates for the first hour are expensive, but they drop significantly the longer you’re there. By hour number six, I’m practically free.”

“We’ll have to find a way sometime to get a whole night together,” Doug said. “Shall I take out my appointment book?” Carol teased.

He became serious. “Actually, I came by to tell you that I probably won’t be able to see you for a couple of weeks.” He watched as Carol immediately sank deeper into her chair. Her reaction told him that despite the compliments he gave her moments earlier, she worried that something was now wrong with the relationship.

“Everything’s fine,” he assured her. “I’m just not going to be around at all this week or next. I’ll be away from the office altogether.”

She rested her hands on top of the desk. “Why, what’s up?”

“I got a telephone call Friday night, out of the blue, that may change some things for me. I can’t tell you what it is now, and there’s a good chance it won’t amount to anything. Just something I’ve got to look into. It will take a little time to find out what I have to know. It has absolutely nothing to do with you. But I was told I have to keep all my days and nights open, and I’m not even sure where I’ll be on any particular one. I wanted to tell you in person so you wouldn’t start getting concerned.”

He said it pretty much the way it was rehearsed. It was all a lie, he knew, and the day of reckoning was probably just three weeks away, at the most. But he wanted to hold on to Carol as long as he could. He wasn’t going to worry now about how she would react later on.

“Will you be able to call?” she asked.

“I think so. I will if I can,” he answered, and got up to leave.

Carol came around the desk and stood next to him. “Good luck with whatever it is, Doug. I hope it works out if you want it to.”

He wondered what she’d be hoping if she knew the truth. “Thanks. I’ll know better when I see what it’s all about.”

“In the meantime, is there a convent you can recommend that takes nice Jewish girls?” She assumed the question made her blush.

He touched her jacket at her breast lightly with his fingers. “Forget the convent,” he said. “Just remember that ‘Jesus saves.’ For the next two weeks we’ll both save too, and then we’ll go on a spending spree at your favorite hotel. Okay?”

Carol knew she was going to miss him. A tear started falling from one eye as she nodded her head up and down.