“It’s one of the things I like best about you,” she said. “Let’s go be greedy right now.”

And they did.

—

HALF A MILE down Stone Canyon, Mr. and Mrs. Charles Grosvenor were undressing after dinner.

“How did you think our lunch went?” Charles asked his wife.

“I thought it went very well.”

“Do you think Barrington recognized you?”

“I know he didn’t,” she said. “I’ve always been good at makeovers.”

“You certainly have—and I love the gray hair.”

“I thought of affecting a British accent, but that might have been a little much. After all, there are people in L.A. who know who Barbara Eagle Grosvenor is.”

“What if Barrington mentions our lunch to Ed Eagle? He knows my name.”

“He won’t have any reason to mention it, since he hasn’t figured it out.”

“And you’re going to use Barrington to get at Eagle?”

“Ideally, yes. Don’t worry, I won’t get caught. I’ll get away with it, I always have.”

“You have that gift,” Charles said. “And what will you do if you can’t get at Eagle?”

Barbara smiled a little smile. “Then I’ll destroy someone close to him.”

“Barrington?”

“Perhaps. It would cut Ed to the bone, and that’s been my pleasure for a long time.”

“Whatever you want, my sweet.”

“I want you to come over here and fuck me,” she said, stretching out on the bed.

“It’s what I do best, isn’t it?” he asked, joining her.

“It certainly is, my darling.”

Chapter 19

Governor Richard Collins was joined for breakfast by Vice President Martin Stanton in the governor’s bungalow at the Beverly Hills Hotel. A table had been elegantly laid on the private patio. The governor was sitting in a chaise longue, reading a stack of morning papers. A political writer’s daily column had caught his eye, and he read it quickly.

“Good morning, Dick,” the vice president said from the patio door. A Secret Service agent stood behind him. The agent looked quickly around the patio, then stepped back into the bungalow’s living room and closed the door between him and his charge.

“Good morning, Marty,” Collins said, rising to greet his guest. “Shall we sit down?” He motioned his guest to a chair. “Orange juice?” the governor asked, picking up a pitcher.

“Thank you, yes.”

“Would you like some champagne or vodka in it?”

“Thanks, I’ll wait until lunchtime.”

Collins poured the orange juice, and a waiter came and delivered eggs Benedict. “So, Marty, how do you think the convention is going for you?”

“As well as can be expected,” Stanton replied.

“Do you think you have enough votes to win on the first ballot?”

Stanton hesitated before replying. “I believe that may depend on you, Dick.”

Collins took a bite of his eggs and shrugged. “I think our delegation is holding. At least, nobody has told me he’s doing otherwise.”