If there was any feeling of guilt ever in his soul, Phillip felt it now. He moved around the room mechanically, quickly, paying as little attention to Laurie's prostrate form stretched across the bed as possible. He slipped into his shirt, punctured the cufflinks, then searched for the right tie.
"You sure you won't come with me?" he said.
Laurie didn't answer. She lay in her robe. Since she'd come back from Uncle Julian's, she'd lain this way… across the bed on her stomach… silent.
"There'll be a party, you know… at the Colemans'. It'll be late… you ought to come along," he said, not really meaning the invitation. Tonight, when it was all done, he'd get out of her life… he had no right in it. He stole a glance at her voluptuous form covered by the robe she wore. God, she was lovely. He thought of Dianne and he seemed to melt inside. He loved her! Yes, he did! He loved her! "Well, Laurie? Going with me?"
His wife raised her face, laying it upon her arm. "So… Mark Coleman's been nominated, eh?"
"Surprise, all right. Everyone expected the old boy to back Byron Acker. I don't know… something must've happened. Inner politics, girl, things we know nothing of… So… we support the nominee of the party, Mark Coleman… he'll be the next Governor, you know."
Laurie thought for a moment. "No, he won't," she said.
"What?"
"He won't. No… he won't be the next Governor, Phillip," she repeated calmly.
Phillip laughed. "Look… why don't you come along with me to the party. Pay tribute, so's to speak…"
"You pay tribute, Darling," she interrupted him, "I've paid all I intend to pay."
He was facing the mirror, knotting his tie. He stopped, watching her in the glass. "What's that supposed to mean?" he said.
She rolled onto her back and stared up at the ceiling, feeling no need to answer him. In the last few hours she had become quite resigned to the brutal cruelties of life. One couldn't continue to be exposed, she'd decided, without developing some callouses. Once in those few hours, she had concluded that she would tell him everything, pour her heart out to him, bare her soul and rid herself of her wicked burden of conscience, even beg his forgiveness, but that, too, had passed. Instead, had come realization that confession was only good for the soul when one's confessor was sympathetic. And he too, had used her. As yet, she wasn't certain to what extent, and she wasn't sure that she really wanted to know, but the fact remained that he had. Still, she loved him…
"You're being damned awful mysterious," he said, interrupting her thoughts. He slipped on his coat and walked to the bed to stand over her. "Why won't you come along?"
She looked up at him. "Because you don't want me, Phillip."
Her statement jarred him. His mouth fell a little agape. "T-that's a hell of a thing to say," he said.
"It's a hell of a way to feel," she replied levelly.
"Damnit," he blurted, his face crimsoning lightly. "I'm beginning to think I understand you less everyday, Laurie."
"Yes…" She nodded. "I agree…" She watched him awkwardly struggle for words. He was angry and confused. She felt there was something he wanted to say but couldn't.
"Oh… oh… to hell with it… and you, too!" he spat, swung on his heels and walked out with a healthy slam of the door.
Laurie remained motionless on the bed, staring blankly up at the ceiling, her mind suddenly even empty of thought. She couldn't cry anymore. She was devoid of any feeling. God, what was to become of her? She felt so desperately alone… but for some unknown reason she was not frightened. It was as if, suddenly, she had come of age… passed beyond that milepost that separated helpless, dependent femininity from capable, cunnning womanhood. She found that she was smiling to herself… a woman's cold, calculating smile… a wry expression in effect. A little chill passed over her at her own sudden apathy.
She rose from the bed and walked to the bottle of bourbon that sat on the dresser. She poured into a water glass an inch or so of the amber colored liquid and raised it to her lips. One swallow consumed half of it and she felt it burn in her mouth and throat and finally in her belly, its warming effects quickly spreading through her. She stared at herself in the mirror, lifting the glass once more.
Thoughts of Jack and Beth Tierney frittered through her mind for no apparent reason, this followed by more of her and Phillip's lovely home… barbecues in the backyard… midnight swims in their neighbors' pool… God, how remote and unrealistic all of that seemed now… how long, long ago, yet, it was only two days past… wasn't it? She'd been so certain that these three days were going to be the happiest in her life to date… She shook her head in disbelief. Was it possible? Had all of these horrible things truly happened to her?
Once more, a chilling sensation caused her to shudder. She poured again into the glass and drank the whiskey down. It burned less the second time and she was beginning to feel better, less taut within. She poured yet a third and sipped at that, walking to a chair and curling into it.
She supposed the Coleman party would be quite a victory celebration… undoubtedly with few inhibitions, judging by what she'd already come to know of the Senator and his charming wife. Phillip would be quite free to follow Dianne off into bed somewhere without his millstone wife hanging around his neck… not that her presence seemed to make a great difference; it hadn't last night, anyway. And the good Senator, it seemed, could care less who his wife was tumbling… Damn his soul, she owed him plenty for what he did to her and let be done to her last night… then, using those filthy pictures to blackmail Uncle Julian. Momentarily, she wondered about the pictures and what would be done with them. She thought of the possibility of them falling into Phillip's hands and was surprised at the feeling of indifference that possessed her. God, was it possible that she had undergone such a mortal change. Her very coldness of heart startled her.
Dear Uncle Julian had done that… destroyed the last vestige of clinging, vineish little girlism she possessed… taught her in essence that the world was a cruel, filthy place, and that survival was most definitely of the fittest…
"Damn them! God damn them all!" she cursed aloud, then gulped away her drink. Suddenly, she burst from her chair. She wasn't about to sit around here and rot. To thievery hell and damnation with that! She would dress; she would go out… she might even pick up a man and let him fuck her silly! Yes, by God! A new day had dawned in the life of Laurie Gates! The wraps were coming off! It was time that she showed them all the capabilities of this little girl! And that was exactly what she intended to do!
Laurie was already a little tight when she walked into the bar off the lobby of the Ambassador Hotel. She'd had another straight bourbon, stiffer than the others, while she dressed. There'd been no actual goal in mind when she left their suite, descended in the elevator to the lobby, and then the little neon sign reading "Embassy Room" had caught her eye. It seemed as good of place as any to start.
She went in and slipped onto a stool at the end of the bar. The room was dimly lighted, carpeted, plush and cozy, occupied mostly by men, probably conventioneers, she thought, but there were women, too, all paired off… none alone like herself. She felt devilishly wild and knew that male eyes were following her. Wouldn't it be something if the nice barman asked her for her ID to prove her age? She was in violation, of course, being in there and under twenty-one, but it wasn't bothering her. She knew that she looked at least twenty-three or four. She felt quite confident and made a point of letting her voluptuously curved buttocks hang over the rim of the cushioned stool like a pouting lip.
The barman, young himself, in his black tie and red, short jacket, smiled at her.
"What would you like, Miss?"
"Bourbon soda… lots of ice, please."
She was sorry she hadn't taken the last stool in the corner. It would've given her command of the room. Presently, she was trying to utilize the back-bar mirror to scan the male faces, but it wasn't a very effective device with the array of bottles and shelving blocking it. She would have to think of some other method if she was to be successful in this escapade, she decided; either another approach or depend entirely on male aggressiveness. She worked her buttocks back a little further on the stool.
A flash of masculine white teeth in the semi darkness caught her eye in the mirror. They were handsome teeth, seemingly set in a handsome face, but she couldn't be sure with the lighting. Anyway, the face was studying her, eyes locked on her back… undoubtedly her behind and legs. She sensed a little shiver of pleasure. It was almost a familiar face, she thought, engaged in conversation with a group of men at a booth… but playing almost continual attention to her now. She lifted her drink and sipped. If only she dared turn around… smile perhaps… God, she didn't have to… he was getting to his feet… coming toward her now… Lord, it was Byron Acker!
"Mrs. Gates…" he said, moving between her and the next stool to stand, smiling. "How come you're not at the victory celebration?"
"Nothing to celebrate, Mr. Acker," she said, with a pleasant smile of her own. She had turned toward him, was looking directly into his eyes… nice dark eyes, she thought… actually, a handsome man in a rugged, outdoorsy way, attractive grey temples, clean smile… she'd never noticed before.
"You're not a Coleman supporter then?"
"I'm not politically minded I'm afraid," she replied easily. He was still smiling, his eyes on her lips, reminding her that the soft indirect lighting would be playing there, causing an attractive jewel like glitter against the thin layer of lip rouge. She wet them tantalizingly with the tip of her small tongue.
"That sounds strange coming from one of a political family," he said, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly. "I'm sure your husband and uncle are not in accord with you."
"You'd be quite right, Mr. Acker," said Laurie, tilting her head provocatively. "But then, I suddenly find that my husband and uncle are in accord with me on very few, if, any things."
"Oh? And that's why you're here… all alone?"
"It is."
"Family squabble?"
Laurie shrugged pretty shoulders. "It's not important," she said. "Why don't you join me in a drink?"
He nodded. "I'd like that," he said, slipping up onto the vacant stool beside her. "I've already had too much, but how can I resist such a charming invitation? Have you had dinner?"
"No… but I don't believe I want any," she said, letting her eyes play over his handsome face. "I think I'm too full of wildness tonight to waste time eating."
"Hmmmm, so you've been drinking, too."
"A little… but I feel wonderfully mellow… How do you feel?"
"Better… since I've seen and talked to you," he replied, gazing levelly at her.
Laurie experienced another pleasant little tingle rippling through her, and then a second sensation of compassion for this man's feelings at what they had done to him. God, it suddenly occurred to her, what would he think of her if he knew the part she'd unwittingly played in losing the nomination for him? Yet, Uncle Julian had said he would stop the Colemans', but he hadn't… still, she couldn't believe he'd given up so easily… not Uncle Julian.
"I-I know how you must feel, Mr. Acker…" she started to console him and he interrupted.
"Byron," he said. "Let's drop the Mr. and Mrs. bit. Byron and…?"
"Laurie."
"Laurie," he repeated. "Rolls nicely off the tongue… As for how I feel… one must learn to lose gracefully… but it's harder than hell when you're certain you've been swindled, Laurie."
She couldn't resist touching his hand in consolation, placing her small soft one on top of his larger, tanned, muscular one. "Don't give up, Byron," she said softly, her eyes searching his deeply. "I have a feeling that it's all going to work out to your advantage before it's over."
He grinned. "That sounds real palatable," he said. "Does that feeling somehow include you in the picture?"
Laurie felt the warmth creeping into her face. She smiled, her excitement obvious. "It might," she said softly. "I-I think it could."
She could hear his breathing even above the hum and hustle in the room, see the glint of lust flicker briefly in his dark eyes.
"Let's get out of here," he said huskily. "Where would you like to go?"
"The party… at the Colemans'… if you'll take me," she said, realizing for the first time that she wanted to flaunt this man in front of her husband, in front of all of them before she set their world on its cockeyed tail.
Byron Acker smiled broadly. "All right," he said, slipping from the stool. "It sounds like one hell of a wild idea to me. I'm game if you are."
Laurie laughed and he helped her off to her feet. She ran her arm through his possessively. "Come on, Darling," she said gaily. "Let's have a ball tonight."
In his car, he gathered her into his arms and kissed her, smoothing his big hand over her back and down to her round full buttocks as he pulled her tight to him. She slipped her tiny tongue into the warmth of his mouth and then he did the same to her while she sucked gently on it. His hand moved to her breast to caress and stroke there and with her own she felt down between them, her nails tracing the length of his already erect penis.
"Christ," he gasped. "I'm going to fuck you… you know that, don't you?"
"Oh yes, Darling… I want you to… but the Colemans' first…?"
"All right… the Colemans' first. I think I can wait that long… but don't be surprised if I screw you right in the middle of their floor."
Laurie giggled into his mouth. "Wonderful! I think I'd love that."
"Y-You little hot-pants imp, you," he rasped, kissing her once more. Then, he forced himself away from her and started the engine. "Come on, let's go blow the lid off their Godamned party!"