Covenant - THE CONTROLLER 01 Page 3
“No, thank you, Helen, this will be fine, unless you would prefer something else, Christine.”
“Coffee will be just fine, thank you.”
“Tell me, Christine … oh I’m sorry, I guess I should ask if you mind my addressing you so familiarly?” Richard was looking at the cup and saucer he was picking up, but paused mid motion to get her reaction.
“I don’t mind at all.” A slight smile was all she could muster, considering her apprehension as to why she was meeting with the top gun.
“Good. And you can call me Richard.” He settled back into the chair as he spoke. “I consider the people in this organization to be my friends. I’m sure you have probably heard a million things about me. Just do me the courtesy of forming your own opinions and I’ll be happy.”
“You’re selling yourself short, Richard. Everything I’ve heard has been complimentary.”
“You may be wondering why I asked you to come to New York. It’s like this. Like me, you are from California, and it isn’t the easiest transition to leave there for New York. The lifestyle here is about as fast paced as you can find. I felt Los Angeles was fast, but New York is ballistic. This is also where it all happens. You name it; it’s here. And I would like to have you here.”
“In what capacity? I’m not a financial wizard. I’m an organizer, a problem solver, and my background is in construction.”
“The position I have in mind for you, I feel, could make good use of those skills. Before I tell you more, let me tell you that what I am about to say is in the strictest confidence. None of it is to leave this room.” Richard looked her directly in the eyes and leaned slightly forward as if to stress the point.
“What makes you think I can be trusted?” Her smile revealed perfect teeth, their brightness in stark contrast to her dark hair.
“Do you for one minute think that you would be here without having first been checked out thoroughly? I didn’t get where I am by misjudging people. I trust my instincts as well. And my instincts tell me that you are the perfect person for what I have in mind.”
“Is this where I ask who it is you want me to kill?” She smiled.
“Nothing quite so drastic.” Richard paused as if to add impact to what he was about to say. “I intend to run for the Presidency of the United States.” Another pause, this time to read her expression. “I think you can appreciate the necessity for secrecy at this point. My dilemma is that I have never been in the political arena, so my knowledge is somewhat limited as to what it takes to run a campaign. I can, and will, hire a lot of experts, but I need to know that someone I can trust is heading the whole thing. That’s where you come in. I want you to be my campaign manager. I know you’re thinking, why me? It so happens that I was very impressed by how you pulled our butts out of the fire on the wetlands issue. You proved you could think on your feet and turn negatives into positives. And isn’t that what politics is all about?”
Christine had to consciously force her mouth shut as she felt her chin dropping. “This is definitely nowhere close to why I thought you were asking me here. I need to let this sink in. May I have some time to mull it over?”
“Take all the time you need. I didn’t rush into this decision, and I wouldn’t expect you to do otherwise. I’ve had my secretary make arrangements for your accommodations. Take some time to enjoy the sights here. And most of all, feel free to contact me whenever you have questions. I want you to give this a chance. Don’t turn me down, or accept the position, until you are confident that you have made the proper decision."
* * *
Christine was apprehensive about taking on the job as campaign manager for Richard. This was hardly her area of expertise, and she was concerned that she could do more harm than good to the campaign.
“I understand your position, Christine, but let me address one of your concerns. I have several political advisors; I’m not going to turn to you for help in that area. I need you to manage those advisors and all the volunteers. One thing that has been brought to my attention was the need for someone who could temper their enthusiasm with logic. The zeal that these volunteers bring to the campaign can become misdirected, requiring refocusing; and as the campaign wears on the enthusiasm will diminish. I need someone who can recharge the volunteers and keep the momentum going. I think you are that person, Christine.” Richard hoped that she would realize how much her talents were needed.
“I hope I live up to your expectations, Richard.”
* * *
A few months after their campaign began, Richard and Stephen decided to talk things over with campaign manager Christine Morrison. Neither one of them believed anyone involved in the campaign was responsible for some of the unexplained support. They simply wanted to see if there’s anything that might give them a clue as to who might be.
“Christine, I’m sure you noticed that there have been several unpredictable turns in the course of the campaign. Stephen and I have been talking things over and have come to the conclusion that someone is intervening on our behalf. We don’t have a clue who it might be.”
“I was hoping it was just a run of good luck, but deep down inside, I guess I’ve had my doubts, too.” She responded.
Stephen leaned forward, revealing his unease at having to ask the question. “Christine, can you think of anything that might help us put the missing pieces in place; anything at all? I know it’s a lot to ask, but if you can remember any incidents that seemed unusual, it might help. Maybe there’s been someone who volunteered to work on the campaign who didn’t quite ring true, or perhaps a union representative approached you about assisting. Something along those lines ring a bell?”
“No, not really. I can’t remember anyone coming forward that caused me to be suspicious. But there was one thing that I didn’t mention at the time. I didn’t think it was important enough to bring to your attention, but I thought I saw the same man in the crowds at both the Detroit and Little Rock appearances, someone not in our camp. I mentioned it to David, our security chief, and he showed me photos he took of the crowds. In one of the shots it was hard to tell if it was the same man because he was in the shade and his facial features were not that clear. But he stood out from the crowd.”
“What do you mean?”
“Even though it looked like two different men, he had been wearing the same clothing—an overcoat and a hat. An overcoat seemed out of place, considering the weather, but it’s what he was doing that was strange. He was tipping his hat toward the stage. The man in each picture was of the same build and height and was doing the same thing—tipping his hat.”
Richard opened the door, flooding the previously quiet conference room with the sounds of ringing phones, people calling across the room, and copy machines droning away. He scanned the hectic room for David’s familiar face. Spotting David off to one corner with his back to the wall, as David was always prone to stand, Richard waved to get his attention and motioned him over.
David Weather’s credentials as one of the best security specialists around were impeccable. He had a sixth sense that never let him down. A former president was alive today because of him. When the Secret Service assigned him to Sinclair two months earlier, he immediately took control, instituting procedures that didn’t win him any popularity contests, but did gain him the respect of the staff.
“David, Christine was telling us about some man who, apparently, was at both rallies in Detroit and Little Rock.” Richard couldn’t hide his concern, no matter how casually he asked.
“Yes sir, that’s correct. I showed Miss Morrison some crowd photos that I took to see if she could identify the man. I also went through all the shots I have of the other stops we have made, but he doesn’t show up in any of those. I’ve been keeping an eye out for this guy and I’ve alerted the security team and passed his picture around. If he shows up again, we’ll take him aside for questioning.”
Stephen wanted to know what David thought of this guy, if he sensed anything. “David, what�
��s your make on the guy? What does your gut tell you?”
“I don’t think this guy is a shooter, sir. And he doesn’t have the look of a stalker. The only thing bothering me was his demeanor.”
“What do you mean?”
“His clothing was so out of place and his motions … well, they were just so obvious. I got the impression that he wanted us to single him out; but he did it in such a way that we wouldn’t notice him right away. Otherwise, we would have grabbed him up and questioned him. He made sure we wouldn’t take heed of him until after the fact.
“What you’re saying is that you think he was toying with us?” Richard was puzzled.
“Yes, sir. My guess is someone has him watching one of you for whatever reason. He strikes me as being an investigative type. If I may ask, is there any reason why either of you would be under investigation? Not to get personal, but it’s not uncommon for a wife to have an investigator keep an eye on her spouse when he’s on the road a lot, for example.”
“I think I can speak for Stephen as well when I say that if we are under scrutiny, it’s not for that reason. Let me ask you this, is there any way we can find this guy?”
“I’ve already exhausted every avenue available to me. There really isn’t much to go on at this point. That’s why we’re on alert. If he shows up again, we won’t let him get away until we know his entire life history.”
“Thanks, David, we appreciate your efforts.” Richard got up and opened the door, giving David a pat on the back as he departed.
Stephen rose and headed for the door. “So we aren’t any closer to an answer now than before. I think I’ll go for a walk to burn off some nervous energy.”
“Sorry I couldn’t be of more help, Richard.” Christine only called him Richard when they were alone. Among others, it was always Mr. Sinclair.
“Don’t worry about it. I’m surprised that you could even notice this guy in the first place. It’s not like you don’t have enough to do already. This reminds me. I haven’t exactly gone out of my way to thank you for everything you have done. You have far exceeded my expectations, and I just want you to know how much I appreciate your efforts.”
“Don’t mention it. I’ve actually been enjoying myself. After the campaign is over, it will be anticlimactic going back to the corporate world.”
“Who said you were going back? I think Radliff and Sinclair, incorporated, can get along without you for a little longer.”
“What do you mean, Richard?”
“I was hoping you would stay on as a member of my staff. A president needs good spin doctors … I mean, advisors,” he said with a grin, “and I think you would be indispensable to me as a press secretary. What do you think about that? If not press secretary, then any position you desire, just name it. I value you very much; and I want you around to help me.”
“Nothing would please me more than to be your press secretary.” Christine was fighting back tears of joy. She was hoping that Richard would keep her on. It would have devastated her if she had to return to New York or Los Angeles while he went to the White House. She wanted to remain close to him, even if she could never tell or show him how much in love with him she had become.
CHAPTER FOUR
Richard was so drawn to Veronica the first time they met that it qualified as “love at first sight.” After twenty-two years of marriage, he still felt the same about her. He could not imagine what his life would be like had he not, literally, bumped into her.
While walking at his usual hurried pace, perusing the latest issue of "Business Week,” he rounded the corner near his office building and almost knocked Veronica off her feet. One look at her and he could barely find the words to offer his apology. Her reddish brown hair and green eyes were a captivating combination. He couldn’t break eye contact with her and felt a dryness in his throat. Though not the glamorous, cover girl type, she still had a look that men found mesmerizing, a look that melted your reservations and demanded you to linger in her gaze. Her five-foot-eight-inch frame was trim and shapely. You could easily picture her hiking a mountain trail in shorts and boots, as well as catching everyone's eye in an evening gown.
“I’m very sorry. I guess I was too preoccupied to look where I was going.”
She made him even more flustered with her graciousness. “I’m sure it was as much my fault as yours.” There was softness to her eyes and enough upturn to her lips to give the impression of interest.
“Are you all right? I hope I didn’t hurt you,” he apologized, finally regaining his composure. “Please allow me to buy you lunch to make amends.” He couldn’t believe he was being so pushy, but he couldn’t just let her disappear.
“I hardly think that’s necessary, I’m not that badly shaken.” She said the words, but didn’t mean them. She quickly decided that lunch with him was what she wanted and if he asked again she would take him up on the offer.
He thought he saw a glimmer in her eyes that suggested she was just as interested in him as he was with her.
“Don’t make me knock you off your feet again!” he said with a wide grin.
She smiled broadly and agreed that lunch was the preferable alternative.
Over lunch, he told her all about himself. She listened intently as he rambled on and on. She tried as hard as she could to be serious, but eventually his nervous chatter became too much for her and she started laughing. Richard cut short his sentence and with a puzzled look asked, “What did I say that was so funny?”
“Everything. You’ve been talking non stop since we sat down.” She could hardly get the words out she was laughing so hard. It was a contagious laugh and it was only a couple of seconds before he too started to laugh.
“I guess I’m a little nervous.”
“Really? I never would have guessed!” And with that she couldn’t help but laugh again.
“Okay, give me a break.”
“I’m sorry, but it was just so funny, I couldn’t help myself. I promise I won’t do it again. You were saying?”
“Forget it! It’s your turn, only I promise not to laugh at you … much.” With that they broke into spontaneous laughter again.
By the end of lunch Veronica knew Richard’s entire life history. She found out he was a junior executive, struggling to distinguish himself from the dozens of his peers. He considered himself lucky to have landed the job right out of school. Had it not been for one of his professors at Harvard speaking on his behalf, he would still be trying to land a position. Normally, job hunting was tough for inexperienced financiers, but in the current depressed economy it was even worse. There were more graduates looking for jobs then there were positions; and a degree from Harvard was no guarantee. He was lucky, indeed, to end up at Radliff Investments.
Now it was her turn. Veronica would never dream of telling a man her background. She was all too aware of how many men were, or would, be interested in her solely for her wealth. But she sensed that Richard was not the average man. He would never be able to live with himself unless he made his mark based on his own resources and abilities. That she could sense and decided to chance telling him of her background. She told him that she came from a wealthy family and never had to ask for anything. She had attended Princeton, was a fairly good student, when she wanted to be, and was uninterested in working a nine-to-five job. Her father felt that women, especially “his” women, were meant to manage his household and social life. The business was to be left to him. He was upset at first that he and his wife had only daughters, but like any father, he wouldn’t trade any of them for all the wealth in the world. He didn’t think that Veronica, his oldest, would succeed him, smart as she was; she just didn’t seem to have the desire. No matter, he would just merge with one of the giants and cash out his interest; then the family could live comfortably in retirement. Her two sisters were never interested in the family business, preferring instead the life of socialites. Their husbands were typical of the men they ran across in their circle of friends. Not much s
ubstance, according to Veronica’s father, but at least they had their own money and didn’t need his, sparing him the chore of taking them into his company. When pushed, he admitted that they were not such bad sorts, and that they did seem to be genuinely in love with his girls.
Veronica revealed that she had her own Fifth Avenue apartment, but tried to spend one or two weekends each month with her parents at their home, as she values time with her family. Her parents and Richard’s have a lot in common when it comes to child rearing. Just because her parents could afford to give her anything didn’t mean that she or her sisters would be allowed to grow up as spoiled brats. They grew up to be down to earth and appreciative of the efforts that their father took to give them the lifestyle they now enjoy. While her sisters may be a little self-centered, she instead, always feels the need to help those less fortunate, devoting considerable time to charitable causes. Lesser people give cash, Veronica gives of herself. She swore a long time ago that the only thing that could ever come between her and her work would be the children she one day would have.
Richard could see she was special, he just couldn’t have imagined how truly special she really was. He decided then and there that he would never let her get away. He didn’t care about her money, her family, or anything else; he just wanted to be with her. He had never felt so possessive of anything or anyone before and was surprised of his feelings now. He had dated many women, any one of whom he could be proud to take home to meet his parents. He had the good instincts that prevented him from getting into bad relationships. He just didn’t feel a need to have any of these relationships proceed to a marriage commitment. He sometimes thought he would never meet the woman that would make him think about marriage and raising a family—until now.
As for Veronica, she had never felt such an attraction. This guy touched something deep inside her and she wanted to spend a lot more time with him. That aside, she would wait until much later to tell him the complete story.