Random Hearts by Warren Adler Read Free Book Online Page B

Things around the office had become frenetic. Speeches, press releases,
new bills, and the usual avalanche of constituent cases were accelerating. Also
accelerating were absences and excuses: cars that needed jumps, icy streets,
burst pipes, the flu.
    Congressman Holmes was a driven man. It was the one quality
that had attracted Edward to work for him in the first place. No sense working
for a politician who did not want the brass ring. As the Congressman's A.A., it
was Edward's job to help create high visibility for the Congressman and
manufacture the correct perception of him in the minds of his constituents. It
was less a question of merit than manipulation. Edward knew it was a game of
mirrors, and although it offended his Iowan instinct for candor and
forthrightness, he quickly learned that that was the least effective policy for
political success. In politics, appearances were everything. Thank goodness he
had his own personal oasis for such deceptions, his Lily.
    Without Lily, Edward believed he would have lost all
contact with reality. Politics was not reality. Lily was the voice of reason,
the therapeutic salve to his sometimes badly bruised moral sensitivity.
    "I'm just not used to portraying something that I know
is a lie, just for political expediency." If she was sympathetic when he
raised this recurrent theme, she would stroke him like a hurt child.
    "Sometimes the truth will hurt."
    "Hurt whom?"
    "Holmes—his chances, his ambitions, his objectives,
his votes. What else is a politician after?"
    "That sounds cynical," he would protest.
    "Honest."
    When she was too self-absorbed to be sympathetic, she would
say, "Then quit."
    "I would, but he's finally getting into a position of
power. The timing would be wrong."
    "When will it be right?"
    "Never, I suppose."
    "See. Always tell yourself the truth."
    "I try."
    "Not hard enough," she would admonish kindly.
    "Besides, I have to scramble like hell to keep up.
He's got his eye on that Senate seat, and he's got a damned good chance ... if
he doesn't kill me first."
    "You'll survive."
    "As long as I have you beside me."
    "You do. You know that."
    "I couldn't face it if I didn't have you to come home
to."
    Occasionally it was his turn to be supportive, which he
was, of course.
    "Me and you against the world," he would say. He
liked that concept. Everybody needed someone.
    That day the Congressman had been irritable. Nothing had
suited him, and he had been unusually testy, pressing Edward with impossible
deadlines for draft bills, releases, position papers, and correspondence.
    That night he felt the need for an injection of wifely
support. Picking up the phone, he called a number of hotels in Los Angeles, whose names he knew. It was by then 2:00 A.M., but only 11:00 in L.A. Too late
to call Woodies or any of her co-workers. He wasn't exactly sure where they
lived anyway.
    "Just a wee crisis of confidence," he assured
himself after he had given up trying to find her. He took half a sleeping pill
instead, and by the next morning he was swept into the affairs of the day,
which went surprisingly well. People were getting used to the cold and ice, and
the Congressman's testy mood had dissipated. He forgot about his anxieties and,
therefore, his reasons for wanting to contact Lily.
    He went out for a working dinner with the Congressman and
got home too late to call Woodies to check on the hotel where Lily was staying.
The fact was that he was so tired by then, he simply fell into bed. He didn't
need much help getting to sleep.
    In the morning he thought of her, of course, with great
anticipation. She would be home that night, although he wasn't sure of the
time, and they would have the weekend together. Nothing, absolutely nothing,
would interfere with their weekend, he vowed. He was vaguely disappointed that
she had not called, but now that the mild ordeal was over, he forgave her. He
had, after all, survived.
    He spent a couple of hours in the morning cleaning up