Spy in a Little Black Dress - By Maxine Kenneth Page 0,115
that some snooty count stole her diamond bracelet. “Well, at least she has good taste,” Jackie said.
“And so do you,” Jack said, looking at her with frank admiration. “That’s a beautiful dress you have on. Is it by a French designer?”
“He’s French-born, but he lives here now. I do have a Givenchy and a Dior dress that I brought back from Paris, though.” Jackie took a sip of her Grand Marnier, savored the tart orange taste, and plunged into the more substantive topic on her mind. “I love Paris so much that I was tempted to accept a six-month position there that Vogue magazine offered me, but my stepfather’s friend, Allen Dulles, talked me out of it. Do you know Mr. Dulles?”
“I do know him,” Jack said. “He did a brilliant job in the war gathering anti-Nazi intelligence that led to the surrender of German troops in Italy. After the war, he helped create the National Security Act of 1947 that set up the U.S. Central Intelligence Agency—you know, the CIA. In 1948, he and two other people appointed by President Truman gave the president some excellent recommendations to reform the CIA, and now Allen Dulles is deputy director of the agency.”
As he had at the Bartletts’ dinner party, Jack once again displayed a near encyclopedic knowledge of people that Jackie found impressive. She took another sip of her drink and asked offhandedly, “So you think highly of Mr. Dulles, then?”
“I don’t know him that well personally, but he’s a master at setting up intelligence networks. With Allen Dulles at the helm, I have no doubt that the CIA will play an indispensable role in stopping the spread of Soviet Communism in Eastern Europe and other Communist movements worldwide.” Jack smiled and shook his head. “I’m afraid I’m starting to sound like Arthur Krock. All I need is a cigar in my mouth. I’m not boring you, am I?”
Are you kidding? You’ve told me exactly what I wanted to hear. “No, not at all,” Jackie said. “This spy stuff is actually very interesting. In fact, I think I might try to interview Allen Dulles for my Times-Herald column, maybe ask him who his favorite author of spy novels is.”
“I like that idea,” Jack said. “A kind of busman’s-holiday angle.”
“Yes, but first I have to find out who Jack Kennedy would most like to be shipwrecked on an island with other than me,” Jackie said, smiling. “Have you thought about that?”
Jack nodded. “Knowing my political aspirations, most people would probably expect me to pick one of our country’s Founding Fathers, like George Washington or Thomas Jefferson, but I’d probably choose an author. I’ve always admired writers enormously. My very favorite book is Pilgrim’s Way, the autobiography of the Scottish novelist John Buchan. I loved his tribute to friends of his who died young: ‘They march on into life with a boyish grace, and their high noon keeps all the freshness of the morning.’ ”
“That’s beautiful,” Jackie said, moved that Jack was willing to display this serious, sensitive side of himself on their first date. “Writing is a passion of mine too, and I’m grateful to have this newspaper job to get a chance to develop my craft. I’m hoping it will lead to bigger things.”
Jack nodded. “You know, my younger sister Kathleen—we always called her ‘Kick’—was a reporter for the Times-Herald.”
“Really? What a coincidence.”
Jack studied her. “No, maybe it’s not such a coincidence. You remind me of Kick. She was beautiful and high-spirited like you. She had that same spark, that flair that set her apart from other girls. She was my favorite sister. I always had the time of my life when I was with her, and she died so young—at twenty-eight—in an airplane crash in France. It was heartbreaking.” A remorseful note crept into his voice. “My father was the only member of the Kennedy family at her funeral. My mother talked the rest of us out of going because my sister had married out of the Catholic Church.” Jackie could see the pain clouding his eyes as he said, “I’ll never forgive myself for that.”
He looked so sad that Jackie put down her wineglass and stroked his cheek, not knowing what to say to comfort him. Their eyes locked, and before she knew it, he was kissing her full on the mouth. It was a deep, penetrating kiss that made Jackie’s head spin and her whole body go slack. For a moment, she was back in Havana, kissing