“Your stature in the party will get you good committee assignments, and the press will always want to know what you have to say, especially the TV reporters. You’ll be a regular on the Sunday-morning shows.”

“Do you know something I don’t, Dick? About who’s slipping in the delegation?”

“Nobody has told me anything, I just know what I know. It’s time for you to decide what you want to do with the rest of your life. You can spend it doing good work in the Senate, or you can spend it serving on corporate boards and playing golf.”

“Come on, Dick, I’ve done a lot for you. You wouldn’t be governor—”

“And I’m very grateful to you, Marty, that’s why I’ve offered you the Senate seat. Most politicians would kill for that.”

The governor finished his eggs. Stanton hadn’t touched his. Collins looked at his watch. “Well, I’ve got a nine-o’clock across town.” He pushed his chair back.

“Time to decide, huh?” Stanton said.

“Yes, it is, Marty.”

Stanton pushed his chair back and stood up. “All right, Dick, I’ll take the Senate seat.”

Collins stood up and shook his hand. “Wonderful, Marty, and I’ll be there when you run for reelection in four years.”

“Thank you, Dick.”

“Now,” said the governor, taking Stanton’s arm and propelling him toward the door, “let me tell you how this is going to go.”

The two men walked slowly through the bungalow’s living room and outside to where their cars waited. The governor did all the talking; Stanton nodded. At one point, Stanton seemed to object, but Collins kept him moving, talking earnestly in a low voice.

They reached their cars, and a Secret Service agent was holding the door open for Stanton.

“Then we’re agreed, Marty.” It wasn’t a question.

Stanton nodded, got into the car, and was driven away. Collins did the same, but he was smiling.

Chapter 20

Ann Keaton sat at her desk in her small office in the presidential cottage and began working delegates, one by one. Molly, Kate’s secretary, sat at an adjacent desk. Her phone rang, she listened and then tapped Ann on the shoulder.

Ann covered the phone. “Yes, Molly?”

“Hang up.”

“I’ll call you back,” Ann said into her phone, then hung up.

“Evan Chandler, from Senator Mark Willingham’s campaign, wants to speak to you,” Molly said. “This could be important.”

Ann pressed the button. “Good morning, Evan, how are you?”

“Very well, Ann. Senator Willingham would like to meet with Director Lee—this morning, if possible.”

“She has meetings all morning and a lunch at twelve thirty,” Ann said. “I could make some time between the meetings and lunch—say, twelve?”

“That’s fine. The senator would like to meet in his suite at the Bel-Air.”