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
Janwillem van de Wetering