Palomino (3 page)

I don't have any choice. Besides, I'm tougher than you are.

You probably are. He smiled gently. But maybe not as tough as you think. Why not give yourself a break, Sam?

What's that supposed to mean? Go to Miami and lie on the beach?

Why not? He forced a smile and she looked at him, shocked.

What are you telling me? Panic crept rapidly into her face. Is Harvey firing me? Is that it? Did he send you here to play hatchet man, Charlie? They don't want me anymore because I'm not as cheerful as I used to be? Just asking the questions, she felt her eyes fill with tears. Christ, what do you expect? I had a rough time' it was ' The tears began to choke her and she hurriedly stood up. I'm okay, dammit. I'm fine. Why the hell But Charlie grabbed her arm and pulled her back down to her seat with a gentle look in his eyes.

Take it easy, babe. Everything's okay.

Is he firing me, Charlie? A lone, sad tear crept down her cheek. But Charlie Peterson shook his head.

No, Sam, of course not.

But? She knew. She already knew.

He wants you to go away for a while, to take it easy. You've given us enough to run with for a while on the Detroit account. And it won't kill the old man to think about business for a change. We can get along without you, as long as we have to.

But you don't have to. This is silly, Charlie.

Is it? He looked at her long and hard. Is it silly, Sam? Can you really take that kind of pressure and not buckle? Watching your husband leave you for someone else, seeing him on national television every night chatting with his new wife as you watch her pregnant belly growing? Can you really take that in stride without missing a step? Without missing a goddamn day at work, for chrissake, insisting on taking on every new account in the house. I expect you to crack yourself wide open sooner or later. Can you really put yourself on the line like that, Sam? I can't. I can't do that to you, just as your friend. What that son of a bitch did to you almost brought you to your knees, for God's sake. Give in to it, go cry somewhere, let go of it all and then come back. We need you. We need you desperately. Harvey knows that, I know it, the account guys know it, and you damn well better know it, but we don't need you sick or crazy or broken, and that's how you're going to wind up if you don't take the pressure off now.

So you think I'm having a nervous breakdown, is that it? She looked hurt as well as shocked, but Charlie shook his head.

Of course not. But hell, a year from now, you could. The time to take care of the pain is now, Sam, not later, when it's buried so deep that you can't find it anymore.

I've already lived with it for this long. It's been four months.

And it's killing you. It was a flat statement on his part and she didn't deny it.

So what did Harvey say? She looked sad as her eyes met those of her friend. She felt somehow as though she had failed, as though she should have been able to handle it better.

He wants you to go away.

Where? She wiped a tear from her cheek with the back of her hand.

Anywhere you want.

For how long?

He hesitated for only an instant before answering. Three or four months. What they had decided was that she would be better off away until John and Liz had had their much publicized child. Charlie knew what a blow it was to Samantha, and he and Harvey had talked it out over many a lunch, but neither could have been prepared for the look Charlie saw now on her face. It was a look of total disbelief, of shock, almost of horror.

Four months? Are you crazy? What the hell is going to happen to our clients? What the hell will happen to my job? Jesus, you really took care of it, didn't you? What is it? You want my job all of a sudden, is that it? She jumped up from the table again and stalked away, but he followed her and stood facing her, looking down at her with sorrow in his eyes.

Your job is a sure thing, Sam. But you've got to do this. You can't push yourself like this anymore. You have to get out of here. Out of this apartment, out of your office, maybe even out of New York. You know what I think? I think you should call that woman you like so much in California and go stay with her. Then come back when it's out of your system, when you're back among the living. It'll do you a hell of a lot of good.

What woman? Samantha looked blank.

The one you told me about years ago, the one with the horse ranch, Carol or Karen something, the old woman who was the aunt of your college roommate. You used to talk about her as though she were your dearest friend. She had been. Barbie had been her closest confidante besides John, and they had been college roommates. She had died two weeks after graduation in a plane crash over Detroit.

There was suddenly a gentle smile in Samantha's eyes. Barbie's aunt' Caroline Lord. She's a wonderful woman. But why on earth would I go there?

You like to ride, don't you? She nodded. Well, it's a beautiful place and it's about as different and as far from Madison Avenue as you can get. Maybe what you need is to park your fancy business wardrobe and pour that sexy body of yours into some jeans and chase cowboys for a while.

Very funny, that's all I need. But the idea had struck some kind of chord. She hadn't seen Caroline in years. She and John had stopped to visit her once, it had been a three-hour drive north and east from L.A. and John had hated it. He didn't like the horses, thought the ranch was uncomfortable, and Caroline and her foreman had looked askance at him for his prissy city ways. A horseman he wasn't, but Samantha was an elegant horsewoman. She had been since she was a child. There had been a wild pinto pony on the ranch when they visited and she had ridden it, to Caroline's dismay. But she hadn't gotten hurt in spite of the horse throwing her half a dozen times as she tried to help break him to the saddle, and John had been instantly impressed by her skill. It had been a happy time in Sam's life and seemed a long time in the past as she looked up at Charlie now. I'm not even sure she'd have me. I don't know, Charlie. It's a crazy idea. Why don't you guys just leave me alone to finish my work?

Because we love you, and you're going to destroy yourself like this.

No, I'm not. She smiled valiantly at him, and slowly he shook his head.

It doesn't matter what you say to me now, Sam. It was Harvey's decision.

What was?

Your leave of absence.

It's definite, then? Once again she looked shocked and again he nodded his head.

As of today. Three and a half months leave, and you can extend it to six if you want. They had called the station to ascertain Liz's due date, and tacked two more weeks on from there.

And I won't lose my job?

No. He slowly pulled a letter out of his pocket and gave it to Samantha to read. It was from Harvey and guaranteed her job even if she stayed away for six months. It was unheard of in their business, but as Harvey had put it, Samantha Taylor was a fairly extraordinary girl.

Sam looked up sadly at Charlie. Does this mean I'm off as of today? Her lower lip trembled.

That's what it means, lady. You're on vacation as of right now. Hell, I wish I were.

Oh, my God. She sank into a chair and covered her face with one hand. Now what am I going to do, Charlie?

He gently touched her shoulder. Do what I told you, baby. Call your old friend on that ranch.

It was a mad suggestion, but after he left, she began to think about what she was going to do. She went to bed still in a state of shock. For the next three and a half months, she was out of a job. She had nowhere to go, nothing to do, nothing she wanted to see, and no one to see it with. For the first time in her adult life she was totally without plans. All she had to do was have one meeting with Harvey the next morning to explain everything on her desk and after that she was free. As she lay there in the dark, feeling frightened, suddenly she began to giggle. It was crazy really, what the hell was she going to do with herself until April 1? April fool' the joke's on you' Europe? Australia? A visit to her mother in Atlanta? For an instant she felt freer than she ever had before. When she had left Yale, she had had John to think of, and now she had no one at all. And then, on an impulse, she reached for her address book in the darkness and decided to follow Charlie's advice. She flicked on the light and found the number easily under L. It would be nine thirty in California, and she hoped that it wasn't too late to call.

The phone was answered on the second ring by the familiar smoky voice of Caroline Lord. There followed a lengthy explanation on Sam's part, friendly silences from Caroline as she spoke, and then a strange, anguished sob as Samlet herself go at last. Then it was like coming home to an old friend. The older woman listened, really listened. She gave Sam a kind of comfort she had forgotten over the years. And when Sam hung up the phone half an hour later, she lay staring at the canopy above her, wondering if maybe she really was going crazy after all. She had just promised to fly to California the following afternoon.

It was a frenzied morning for Samantha, she packed two suitcases, called the airlines, left a note and a check for the cleaning woman, and attempted to close up the apartment as best she could. Then, with her two suitcases, she took a cab to the office, where she gave Charlie the key to the apartment and promised to send Christmas presents for the boys from the coast. Then she met with Harvey for more than two hours, explaining everything he wanted to know.

You know, you don't have to do this for me, Harvey. It isn't what I want. Her eyes reached out toward him as they concluded the meeting that would send her on her way.

He eyed her quietly from across his vast marble and chrome desk. It isn't what you want, Sam, but it's what you need, whether you know it or not. Are you getting out of town? He was a tall, spare man with iron-gray hair that he wore as closely cropped as any Marine. He wore white Brooks Brothers shirts, striped suits, looked like a banker, and smoked a pipe, but behind the steely gray eyes was a brilliant mind, a creative spirit, and a rare and beautiful soul. He had been, in a sense, like a father to Samantha, and now that she thought it over, it didn't really surprise her that he was sending her away. But they hadn't spoken of her plans all morning. All they had talked about were the accounts.

Yes, I'm going away. She smiled at him from across the forbidding desk. It was easy to remember how frightened she had been of him at first, and how much she had come to respect him over the years. But the respect was mutual, as she knew. In fact she looked at her watch my plane leaves in two hours.

Then get the hell out of my office. He put his pipe down and grinned, but Sam hesitated for a moment in her chair.

You're sure I'll get my job back, Harvey?

I swear it. You have the letter? She nodded. Good. Then if you don't get your job back, you can sue me.

That's not what I want. I want the job.

You'll get it, and probably mine eventually too.

I could come back in a few weeks, you know. She said it tentatively, but he shook his head and the smile faded quickly from his eyes.

No, Sam, you can't. April first, and that's it.

For any special reason? He didn't want to tell her, so again he shook his head.

No, that was the date we picked. I'll send you plenty of memos to keep you abreast of what's happening here, and you can call me anytime you want. Does my secretary know where to find you?

Not yet, but she will.

Good. He came around the desk then and pulled her toward him without saying another word. He held her close for a long moment and then kissed the top of her head. Take it easy, Sam. We'll miss you. His voice was gruff and there were tears in her eyes as she held him close for one more moment and then strode rapidly toward the door. For just one tiny instant she felt as though she were being banished from her home, and she felt panic wash over her as she considered begging him not to make her leave.

But when she left his office, Charlie was waiting for her outside in the hallway, and he smiled gently at her, slung an arm over her shoulders, and gave her a squeeze. Ready to go, kiddo?

No. She smiled damply at him and then-sniffed, burrowing closely into his side.

You will be.

Yeah? What makes you so sure? They were walking slowly back to her office, and more than ever she wanted to stay. This is crazy. You know that, don't you, Charlie? I mean, I have work to do, campaigns to coordinate, I have no right to

You can keep talking if you want to, Sam, but it won't make any difference. He looked at his watch. Two hours from now I'm putting you on that plane.

Samantha suddenly stopped walking and turned to look at him belligerently, and he couldn't resist smiling at her. She looked like a very beautiful and totally impossible child. What if I won't get on it? What if I just won't go?

Then I'll drug you and take you out there myself.

Mellie wouldn't like that.

She'd love it. She's been begging me to get out of her hair all week. He stopped, eyeing Samantha.

Slowly she smiled. I'm not going to talk you out of it, am I?

Nope. Nor Harvey. It really doesn't matter where you go, Sam, but you've got to get the hell out of here, for your own sake. Don't you want to? Don't you want to get away from all the questions, from the memories, from the chance of running into ' them? The word had a painful ring to it, and she shrugged.

What difference does it make? When I turn on the news in California, they'll still be there. The two of them. Looking ' Her eyes filled with tears just thinking of those two faces that she was magnetically drawn to every night. She always watched them, and then hated herself for it, wanting to turn the knob to another channel but unable to move her hand. I don't know, dammit, they just look like they belong together, don't they? Suddenly her face pulled into a mask of sadness and the tears began to roll down her face. We never looked like that, did we? I mean

But Charlie said nothing, he only pulled her into his arms. It's okay, Sam. It's okay. And then as she cried softly into his shoulder, oblivious of the glances of secretaries hurrying past her, he swept a long strand of the blond hair off her forehead and smiled down at her again. This is why you need a vacation. I think it's called emotional exhaustion, or hadn't you noticed?