the fuck is this?” She listened some more. “Where? Do you have any idea what time it is on the East Coast?” She listened again, and her face furrowed into a deep frown. “Neither the candidate nor I have any comment to make.” Finally, she hung up. “What time is it?” she asked.
Stone checked the bedside clock. “A little after five.”
“What time would it be on the West Coast?”
“Three hours earlier—a little after two a.m. Listen, next time we sleep together, I get the earplugs, okay?”
“I’m sorry about that. I’m hard to wake up.”
“Not even John Philip Sousa does it for you?”
“Not while I’m wearing earplugs.”
“That doesn’t make any sense at all.”
“I have to go back to New York,” she said.
“I’ll have you back by noon, as promised. Now, please go back to sleep.”
“You don’t understand, everything has changed.”
“What could happen in California at two a.m. that would change everything?” He was wide awake now.
“The vice president,” she said, as if that were an explanation.
“Has he been assassinated?”
“Worse. He’s been caught in bed with a woman not his wife.”
“Doesn’t he have Secret Service protection?”
“Yes, but he smuggled her into his house in La Jolla, and the press were alerted. The woman has a husband, apparently, and he has some connections in the news media. Last month, a Secret Service agent was summarily kicked off the VP’s detail, and he got mad enough to call the husband. At least, he thinks that’s what happened.”
“Who thinks?”
“The West Coast bureau chief for the AP. That’s who called.”
“Why would he call you?”
“For comment.”
“Comment?”
“Don’t you get it? Kate’s biggest opponent just got caught with his pants down. Literally.”
“Oh. I guess that could affect the race, huh?”
“Oh, yeah.”
“How?”
“I don’t know. She picked up her cell phone and pressed a speed-dial button. “Jeff,” she said, “it’s Ann. Marty Stanton has been caught with a woman at his house in La Jolla. No, not his wife. Get your ass out of bed and get a breakfast-time poll started. This will be all over the morning shows, and we have to know how Stanton’s supporters break when they get the news. I’ll be back in the office by nine a.m.” She hung up.
“What are your expectations?”
“It won’t matter to some of his supporters. White males will stick with him, women of all races won’t. We just can’t predict how many will support Kate and how many support others in the race.”
“You’ve got the New Hampshire primary coming up pretty soon. That ought to be a pretty good poll.”
“Yes, but in New Hampshire—we can’t wait for that. This will affect where and how we spend advertising dollars. Kate will probably have to spend a lot more time in California before New Hampshire. Before, we had pretty much conceded the state to Stanton, since he’s a very popular former California governor. Now there are delegates to be picked up. Let’s get out of here.”
Stone got his feet on the floor. “Not without a shower and some breakfast.”
Ann got out of bed and began looking for clothes. Stone got into and out of a shower. “You’re next. You don’t want to get to the office looking like that.”
Ann turned and looked in the full-length mirror on the wall. “Oh, God.”
“I’ll fix some breakfast while you fix you.”
—
They were nearly to Danbury before Ann could get a cell phone signal. Stone had a mini cell at his house, but the local area had only spotty service.
“Betty,” Ann was saying, “call our California campaign manager and get him to set up a phone bank to poll the convention delegates out there and see where we stand. I’ll be at the office by nine. Call me there.”
“You’ll be at the office by seven-thirty,” Stone said. “I hope you have a key to the place.”
“I do.”
“Do you think Stanton will drop out of the race?”
“He won’t if he’s smart, and he’s pretty smart. His people are already doing what we’re doing, testing the waters.”
“There’ve been rumors about his sex life for years,” Stone said.
“Yes, and most of them are true. Will extracted a promise from him when he put him on the ticket that he’d keep it in his pants, but the cock famously doesn’t have a brain.”
“I really don’t see how he can pull it out—you should excuse the expression—and stay in the race.”
“It’s good that people saw us together at the restaurant last night. Two of them were either news reporters or producers.”
“Why is that good?” Stone asked. “Not that I mind our being