Dutch and Gina: The Power of Love (24 page)

“It’s just that I love you,” he said.

LaLa’s heart soared.
 
But she tried to maintain her cool.
 
It was essential to her that she did not lose her cool and believe that this relationship would somehow be the panacea of her life.
 
It wouldn’t.
 
The fact that he was talking about love certainly was an encouraging sign, but she had to keep her cool.
 

“I’m beginning to believe that you do love me,” she said truthfully.

Crader grinned.
 
“Only just beginning, hun?
 
After all of my declarations of love?”

“I hear what you’re saying, but I just don’t want to get it wrong again.”

Crader nodded.
 
“I fully understand, La, don’t think I don’t.”
 

And then he placed his arm around her shoulders.
 
“And I intend to never forget,” he promised, as he held her.
 
Then he smiled.
 
“And who knows,” he said, pulling her closer, “we may one day find ourselves sitting on these very steps, in this very Mall, celebrating our twentieth wedding anniversary.
 
And you’re still be saying, as only you can, ‘yes, Cray, I’m beginning to believe you actually love me.’”

LaLa smiled, and then burst into that unrestraint, past-feeling laughter that made Crader a believer.
 
That laughter, this woman, was what he had been searching for all of his womanizing life.
 
And although she was doing all she could to maintain her cool, he was determined to maintain the heat in their relationship.
 
To give her his best.
 
To keep the flame alive.
 

And to never forget what that quick, foolish, cheap decision to be unfaithful to her almost cost him.

ELEVEN

It was two weeks later and Dutch was seated behind the historic Resolute Desk inside the Oval Office reading on intelligence assessments.
 
There was a quick knock and Crader, who had carte blanche to enter without being announced, walked in.
 
He had a report in his hand that he tossed onto the president’s desk.

“I hope all the haters read it and weep,” he said.

“What is it?” Dutch asked as he picked it up.

“The San Francisco coroner’s office has ruled the death of former White House aide Elizabeth Sinclair an accident,” Crader said triumphantly.

Dutch, who was wearing half-moon reading glasses, looked closely at the report.
  
“So it was an accident?”

“That’s right,” Crader said.
 
“The official report should be ready within the next couple weeks, but they were willing to give us a peep at the prelim.”

“An accident,” Dutch said again, shaking his head.

“Their toxicology reports did confirm that she had a lethal combination of excessive alcohol consumption and pain killers that her doctor had prescribed for her a week before her death, but they don’t think that was the cause of death in and of itself.”

“She slipped and fell while attempting to leave the bathroom in the hotel suite where her body was discovered,” Dutch read from the report.
 

“There was blunt trauma to the head just as they said,” Crader said, “but not inflicted by anybody but Fate.
 
Which exonerates you and me and anybody else her money-grubbing parents were trying to pin this on.”

“Don’t judge her parents so harshly,” Dutch said.
 
“I’d be just as crazy if it had been Little Walt or Jade.”

“Yeah,” Crader said.
 
“You’ve got a point.
 
I’m just glad it’s over.”

Dutch, however, wasn’t so quick to move on.
 
He exhaled.

“What’s the matter?” Crader asked.

“She may have been calling for me.”

“Calling for you?”

“I was sleeping right in the next room, while she was crying for help.
 
That’s why she probably called 911, because I didn’t hear her.”

Crader stared at his old friend.
 
“You were asleep.
 
There’s nothing more you could have done.
 
You were sleep.”

“I know,” Dutch said, removing his glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose.
 
“It’s just very . . . disconcerting.”

Crader couldn’t disagree with that.
 
Everything about Liz Sinclair, it seemed to him, was disconcerting.
 

“Anyway, I think, no, I know I have some great news.”

“Oh, yeah, what’s that?” Dutch asked.
 
He could use some great news right about now.

Crader swallowed hard.
 
Even he was still trying to believe it.
 
“I asked LaLa to marry me,” he said.
 
“And she accepted, Dutch.”

Dutch was extremely hesitant.
 
“Did she?”

“Yes, she did,” Crader said with a big grin on his easily handsome face.
 
“It was one of the happiest days of my life when she said yes.”

Dutch leaned back in his chair, his eyes never leaving Crader’s.
 
“And you’re sure you want to do this, to get married?”

“Yes, I’m sure.
 
Look at me.
 
Don’t I look sure to you?”

Dutch didn’t respond to that.

Crader found his reaction inexplicable.
 
“What’s wrong?” he asked the president.
 
“I thought you’d be thrilled for me.”

“This is Loretta we’re talking about, Cray,” he said.

“I know that.”

“She’s a very sweet, fragile young lady.”

Crader nodded his agreement.
 
“I know that, too.”

“I don’t want any of your bullshit with her.”

Crader frowned.
 
“What bullshit?”

Dutch stared at him.

“What bullshit?” he asked again.

“I don’t want any of your bed-hopping bullshit because I’ll tell you right now, Crader, I will kick your ass if you do something like that to Loretta.”

“And I would appreciate that ass kicking if I do something like that to her.
 
Because I’m not going to do anything like that to her.”

“She deserves some happiness now.”

“I agree.”

Then Dutch exhaled.
 
“Just like Gina does,” he said with a frown.

Crader looked at him.
 
“Why would you say something like that?
 
Gina’s happy.”
 
Then he continued to stare at Dutch, his certainty waning. “Isn’t she?”

Dutch tossed his glasses on the desk, stood up, and walked over to the window.
 
He looked out, although he didn’t focus on anything in particular.
 
“She’s been through so much,” he said.

“But it wasn’t like you put her through it.”

“Well who else do you think did it?” Dutch asked, turning toward Crader.

“The media.
 
These fools in Washington.”

“And me,” Dutch said.
 
“I gave the media all the fodder they needed to keep this story alive.
 
Do you realize it’s been two weeks and they still have roundtable discussions about it?”
 
Then he shook his head.
 
“Taking Liz up to my hotel room.
 
What the hell was I thinking?”

“She was in a bad way, Dutch.
 
I saw what bad shape she was in.
 
It wasn’t like you just went over to her, tapped her on the shoulder, and invited her up for drinks.
 
She needed you.”

“And Gina doesn’t?” Dutch asked snidely when he already knew the answer.
 
“Gina needs me most of all.
 
But she has to get what’s left after every interest group, every powerful politician, every deep pocket donor has gotten their pound of my flesh.
 
And it’s not fair.”
 

Then he looked at Crader with a fierce determination.
 
“That’s why I don’t want any bullshit from you, Cray.
 
Not where Loretta is concerned.
 
She deserves the best.
 
Gina is stuck with me, but you’ve got a choice.
 
You can cut and run before you break that young lady’s heart again.
 
Or you can fully commit to her.”

Crader nodded.
 
He’d never known a better friend.
 
“I’m committed, Dutch.
 
I did a lot of soul searching after how I treated her.
 
I won’t hurt her again.”

Dutch smiled.
 
“Well, all right,” he said.
 
“Congratulations!”
 

And both friends met the other half way, and hugged vigorously.

Later that night, in the West Sitting Room inside the White House Residence, Gina led a toast to the newly engaged couple.
 
LaLa and Crader stood, thanked the First Lady and the president for all of their support, and then both couples drank heartily after a long day.
 
Dutch, who was seated in the chair, crossed his legs as he drained down his drink.
 
Gina, who sat alone on one of the sofas, wanted all the juicy details about how they finally decided to jump the broom, as she put it.
 
And LaLa and Crader, who sat side by side on the sofa facing Gina’s, were more than happy to recite every detail.
 
It seemed as if life around the White House was finally calming back down.

Until Dutch mentioned his Asian-Pacific summit in Japan, and Gina reminded him of her trip to Montreal.

Dutch frowned.
 
“What trip to Montreal?”

“I told you, Dutch.
 
For the Rand Foundation.”

Then he immediately remembered.
 
They both had such tight schedules they often forgot from day to day what the other had planned.
 
“Right, right,” he said.
 
“You’re going to speak at their annual dinner.”

“And then join you afterwards in Japan, that’s the trip.”

“But it’s this weekend?
 
The same weekend as the summit?”

“Unfortunately, yes.
 
But like I told you it’s no big deal.
 
I’ll give my little speech and then get back on the plane.”

Dutch, however, remembered something else.
 
He also remembered that he wasn’t listening too closely at that time because he was too busy fucking her.
 
His penis throbbed at just the thought.
 
“You had mentioned something else, too, didn’t you?”

Gina swallowed hard.
 
This was it.
 
He wouldn’t like it, she already knew that much, but she was certain he would understand why she had to do it.
 
“That’s right,” she said.
 
“I told you about Governor Feingold.
 
While I’m there, Robert has arranged for me to meet with him,” she said.