Original Sin (43 page)

Brooke attempted a smile. She knew the building. Old and prestigious; a power building, full of the sort of people Brooke liked to avoid. And with Rose’s dear friend Aggy in the building, it would be like being watched. Brooke had to think carefully about how to get out of this one. With a bit of luck, Janet Dupont would hang on until Brooke and David found somewhere else to live.

She walked up the sweeping staircase to David’s room at the front of the house. The long windows were open and the balmy evening air breezed through the space that had clearly changed little from when David was much younger. Fifties posters advertising the America’s Cup held in Newport hung on the wall. There was a shelf full of trophies from her fiancé’s school and college days, which always seemed to throw up more of David’s secret talents every time she looked: trophies for rowing, chess, sailing, soccer, cross–country running. The room was a perfect reflection of him: sporty, adventurous, successful.

‘How was the walk?’ asked David, emerging from the en–suite bathroom towelling his hair.

‘Hot,’ she smiled, pulling off her T–shirt and exposing her firm breasts. ‘I need to get a shower.’

‘Tease,’ he grinned, walking over and kissing the back of her neck.

Smiling, she shut the bathroom door behind her. At home he would have joined her in the wet room, but at Cliffpoint she felt strange about sex.

She emerged in her beige lace bra and Cosabella thong feeling clean and fresh. David was already in dress trousers and a white shirt that brought out the tan he had acquired sailing. Slipping into her cream Thakoon shift dress and five–inch heels, she caught sight of them both in the long Shaker–style mirror and felt a flood of contentment at how good they looked together.

David went to his bag and pulled out a slim black velvet case.

‘I was going to wait until tomorrow to give you this, but that dress calls for a change of plan. Happy anniversary, honey,’ he said, giving her a soft, tender kiss.

A year ago today they had met. Just a year. She thought back to that day in Biarritz. Meeting David on the beach when she had been standing on the shoreline in her wetsuit, boogie–board under her arm, a little afraid to step out into the cold Atlantic Ocean. Naturally he had been an adept surfer and he had spent the afternoon teaching her how to get the best rush from the waves. Afterwards, they’d gone for moules frites and lots of red wine, and, as the restaurant emptied out, they still kept talking, then onto a tacky tourist nightclub, desperate to extend the night until at three a.m. they had taken a walk along the beach and he had kissed her.

Her finger prised opened the stiff box and she gasped when she saw a pair of exquisite emerald chandelier earrings lying on a bed of crinkled snow–white silk.

Brooke touched them gingerly. ‘Can I put them on?’

‘It’s what they’re there for,’ he grinned. ‘They’ll look great with that dress.’

They did. She scooped her hair up, fastening it expertly into a chignon. Her neck felt longer and leaner.

‘Wow. This is my Audrey Hepburn moment.’

‘You can wear them at the Republican dinner in Houston, too. Maybe with that long green dress Oscar gave you.’

She looked down towards the floor. ‘Yes,’ she said finally, but it was too late – he had spotted the hesitation in her voice.

‘What’s wrong?’

‘Nothing.’

‘Brooke. You’re a bad liar.’

The earrings weighed as heavy on her as the guilt. ‘About that,’ she said slowly. ‘I’m not sure I’m going to be able to go.’

David looked puzzled. ‘You were fine about it a week ago.’

The last thing she wanted to was put a dampener on the evening ahead, but if she lied now it would be more difficult to get out of later. ‘Remember the Hollywood scout that came to see me?’ she asked. ‘Well, he loved Eileen’s book.’

‘That’s good news, isn’t it?’

Of course it was good news. Such good news that when P. J. had phoned her up two days earlier, she’d actually burst into tears when she’d got off the phone.

‘He wants to set up a meet with the VP of development and a few other executives. Eileen wants me to come.’ She paused. ‘It’s the same day as the Houston dinner.’

A vertical frown line appeared above his nose. ‘Why does Eileen want you with her? She’s got an agent, hasn’t she? That’s what they are there for – to hand–hold and do deals.’

‘This feels like my project too, David.’

‘So change the date of the meeting.’

‘Come on, David. We were given that date. If we start trying to change it, you know how these things can suddenly go cold.’

‘So this is more important than the Houston dinner,’ he said flatly.

‘It’s just a dinner, David. If it was the Republican convention, or if you had started on the campaign trail yourself or something, then fair enough.’

‘Just a dinner,’ he said sarcastically.

‘Well it is, honey. It’s not as if you and your family don’t know these people already. It’s not as if
you
are turning down the invitation.’

Brooke took hold of his arm. It felt tense in her hand. ‘Please don’t be like this. I know the dinner is important to you, but this is important to me too. Eileen’s my author and she needs me. You have your family to be there and back you up every step of the way, but Eileen has no one. She’s twenty–six, bringing up three kids, trying to make life better for those children. I really feel can help someone.’

‘Fine,’ he said, walking towards the door.

‘Where are you going?’

‘For a walk.’

‘David, you’re obviously upset, let’s talk about it some more.’

He didn’t even turn to look at her. ‘I’ll see you downstairs at seven,’ he said, closing the door.

If Brooke could have left Cliffpoint right then, she would have. Instead she had to walk alone into the throng of Billingtons, all congregated in the drawing room. At least David’s cousin Lily was there; her co–opted bridesmaid was not her favourite person in the world, but when she saw Lily’s lean blonde form at the bottom of the stairs, Brooke almost leapt with joy. Conversation about Lily’s Zac Posen bridesmaid dress easily took up the time until dinner was announced. Brooke was only faintly aware of David glowering at her from across the room and, when they sat next to each other at the enormous formal dinner table, no one seemed to notice that Brooke and David were speaking to everybody except each other.

The meal was exquisite; a starter of rare roast beef salad served with green beans and horseradish cream, and then cold lobster and aspic, served with the finest wines Brooke had ever tasted.

‘So. How is the speech coming along for Houston fundraiser?’ asked Wendell, sticking his fork into a delicate walnut tart. ‘There’s a couple of good guys we can draft in to help with that; Ted is particularly good. Used to work with Condoleeza.’

‘It’s under control,’ smiled David, taking a sip of Château Pétrus.

Rose was sitting opposite her future daughter–in–law. ‘Brooke, I’ve got a few events planned in Houston for us both. I have a wonderful girlfriend who has invited us for lunch. There will be no finer guide to Houston. The shopping there is surprisingly good.’

Brooke took a breath and put her goblet of wine down on the table. ‘I’m probably not going to be able to make the dinner,’ she said, not meeting Rose’s eye directly.

Wendell looked across the table at her. ‘Really?’ he said, trying to mask his disapproval with surprise.

‘A business meeting to LA has come up. It’s very important and can’t be rescheduled.’

‘I can’t recall hearing of a meeting that can’t be rescheduled,’ he said with an overly enthusiastic smile. ‘Some of the party’s biggest donors are going to be at the dinner. Men who got both Bushes into the White House. Regardless of this family, they are going to be sizing David up. Checking him out, particularly with all those Florida Keys heroics still being talked about.’ He wiped the edge of his mouth with a napkin. ‘And of course everyone wants to meet you, Brooke. David, I think you should persuade her to attend,’ he said, moving his gaze from Brooke to his son.

Brooke didn’t dare look at her fiancé.

‘Brooke’s meeting is very important, and while she is going to try and move it, you know what these Hollywood lot are like,’ David told him. ‘Look like you aren’t interested and you’ve missed your window of opportunity. Her career is important too.’

Wendell returned silently to his walnut tart, his mouth in a firm, tight line, and Brooke dropped her arm to her side, reaching over to touch David’s leg gratefully.

‘Coffee in the library,’ announced Rose.

As David was caught talking to his two cousins from Boston, Brooke went outside to get some fresh air. It was a relief to be alone; the tension in the dining room had almost choked her.

Walking to the edge of the terrace, she stood at the top of the stairs that led to the lawns, listening to the distant roar of angry waves on the rocks and the rustle of a breeze in the trees.

Hearing footsteps behind her, she turned to see Robert Billington standing there, backlit by the glow coming from the house.

‘Brandy?’ He handed her a crystal balloon glass a third full of amber liquid.

Brooke observed him suspiciously. He was wearing a navy blazer with gold buttons that made him look about ten years older than thirty–five and an arrogant half–smile. Brooke had never liked Robert. As a student at Yale, he had been in a terrible car accident when he vehicle had exploded into a fireball. Robert had been lucky to escape alive, but he still had burns all over his torso which crept up above the neck of his shirt like snake tongues. People whispered that his accident was why Robert worked for his father, instead of pursuing a political career, but in Brooke’s opinion he was simply an unpleasant character devoid of the charm and smarts needed for Capitol Hill.

‘How are the wedding plans coming along? Florida Keys was an unusual choice.’

‘Not really, for a winter wedding. Plus we really wanted something with a family connection. Jewel Key is my uncle’s house. It will be private. I know security has been a bit of a concern for you.’

‘Among other things,’ he said casually, taking a sip of his drink. ‘I take it David has already broached the matter of a prenuptial agreement with you.’

She shrugged. He hadn’t, although she had been expecting it.

‘It’s obviously not the time or the place to talk about it here, but perhaps our lawyer and yours can speak next week to discuss the preliminaries.’

‘I’ll tell her to expect the call.’

Robert rested his glass on the wall and dipped his hand into his pocket.

‘I overheard the conversation about the Houston dinner. It’s very disappointing.’

‘As David said, I have an important meeting.’

‘Who with? He laughed patronizingly. ‘Some jumped–up twenty–five–year–old development exec?’

Brooke felt her cheeks run hot.

Robert walked closer to her. ‘Brooke. I know you want to be good at something. It’s human nature. My wife, she likes to
place
. She seats the best dinner–party tables of anyone in New York City. She doesn’t have to be good at anything, of course. She has a chef to make our food, maids and decorators to look after the house, but her placements are very important to her and they do serve a very important role in our household. Our dinner parties are excellent. What she is good at serves us
both
.’

‘What are you trying to say, Robert?’

‘David doesn’t need a career girl, Brooke. Look pretty. Be on as many best–dressed lists as you like. But know what your place is in the partnership.’

‘I thought I was entering into a marriage, not a partnership.’

‘David needs the right kind of wife, Brooke.’

‘In case you hadn’t noticed, it’s the twenty–first century. People marry for love not usefulness,’ she said, trying to keep her tone light.

‘I think that’s a little naive to think so when the stakes are so high.’ Robert sighed, his thin lips almost disappearing as he looked thoughtfully at a row of trees.

‘David and I are happy, Robert.’

His face remained impassive. Brooke doubted that Robert cared at all for David’s happiness. Looking at him, his poor complexion, the scars coiling up his neck, the features that on the surface looked liked David’s, but were in fact bigger or smaller – larger nose, narrower eyes and lips – making the construction of his face look out of kilter somehow, must surely make it impossible for Robert not to be jealous of his younger, more blessed brother.

‘The secret of success is to know your strengths and your limitations. To have the wisdom and resolve to bide your time,’ said Robert finally. ‘Our family has produced a raft of senators, four governors, a secretary of state and an attorney general. But we haven’t had a senior–level politician in the family for two generations now. My father sacrificed the chance to make serious money, and now he wants to convert that into real power. David is this family’s golden opportunity. He is our time. We have been waiting for decades for someone with the brains and the charm to go all the way. In politics today, image is everything. David has that. Since he was a little boy he has been able to charm the birds out of the trees. He has looks, contacts, credibility, money. He has style and substance. He even has the common touch. And, after that Islamorada episode, the heroics. He might well have served in ’Nam.’