TWENTY-EIGHT
A king-size bed.
"I don't envy the women of Texas. Like the women of every state in this nation, they're faced with serious problems—problems that require immediate solutions. Daily solutions. Problems such as quality child care."
Even as Tate waxed eloquent at a luncheon meeting of professional women, his mind was on that one large bed in the room at the Adolphus Hotel.
After landing at Love Field, they had rushed to check in, freshen up, and make the luncheon on time. The hectic schedule hadn't dimmed his one prevalent thought: tonight he would be sharing a bed with Carole.
"Some corporations, many of which I'm pleased to say are located here in Dallas, have started day-care programs for their employees. But these companies with vision and innovative ideas are still in the minority. I want to see something done about that."
Over the applause, Tate was hearing in his mind the accommodating bellman ask, "Will there be anything else, Mr. Rutledge?"
That's when he should have said, "Yes. I'd prefer a room with separate beds."
The applause died down. Tate covered his extended pause by taking a sip of water. From the corner of his eye, he could see Carole looking up at him curiously from her place at the head table. She looked more tempting than the rich dessert he had declined following lunch. He would decline her, too.
"Equal pay for equal work is a tired subject," he said into the microphone. "The American public is weary of hearing about it. But I'm going to keep harping on it until those who are opposed to it are worn down. Obliterated. Banished."
The applause was thunderous. Tate smiled disarmingly and tried to avoid looking up the skirt of the woman in the front row who was offering him a spectacular view.
While they had scrambled to get ready in the limited time allowed, he'd caught an accidental glimpse of his wife through a crack in the partially opened bathroom door.
She was wearing a pastel brassiere. Pastel hosiery. Pastel garter belt. She had a saucy ass. Soft thighs.
She had leaned into the mirror and dusted her nose with a powder puff. He'd gotten stiff and had stayed that way through the wilted salad, mystery meat, and cold green beans.
Clearing his throat now, he said, "The crimes against women are of major concern to me. The number of rapes is increasing each year, but the number of offenders who are prosecuted and brought to trial is lamentably low.
"Domestic violence has been around as long as there have been families. Thankfully, this outrage has finally come to the conscience of our society. That's good. But is enough being done to reverse this rising trend?
"Mr. Dekker suggests that counseling is the answer. Toward reaching a final solution, yes, I agree. But I submit that police action is a necessary first step. Legal separation from the source and guaranteed safety for the victims—most frequently women and children—is mandatory. Then and only then should counseling and reconciliation be addressed."
When the applause subsided, he moved into the final fervent paragraphs of his speech. As soon as this meeting concluded, they were scheduled to go to a General Motors assembly plant in neighboring Arlington, to mingle with the workers as they changed shifts.
After that they would return to the hotel, watch the evening news, peruse the newspapers, and dress for the formal dinner being held in his honor at Southfork . And late tonight, they would return to the king-size bed.
"I'll be expecting your support in November. Thank you very much."
He received an enthusiastic standing ovation. He signaled for Carole to join him at the podium. She took her place beside him. He slid his arm around her waist, as expected. What wasn't expected was the thrill he got from having her that close, feeling small and feminine against his side. She tilted her head back and smiled up at him with what appeared to be admiration and love.
She could put on a hell of an act.
It was almost half an hour later before Eddy was able to separate them from the adoring crowd that was reluctant to let them go. The September heat struck them like a blast furnace as they exited the meeting hall.
"Jack is holding a call for me back there," Eddy explained as he herded them toward a car parked at the curb. "Some glitch about tonight. Nothing serious. We'll follow you out to the assembly plant. If you don't leave right now you won't make it in time. Know where it is?"
"OffI-30, right?" Tate shrugged off his suit jacket and tossed it into the backseat of the rented car.
"Right." Eddy detailed the directions. "You can't miss it. It'll be on your right." He glanced at Carole. "I'll call you a cab back to the hotel."
"I'm going with Tate." She slid beneath his arm into the passenger seat.
"I think—"
"It's okay, Eddy," Tate said. "She can come with me."
"She'll stick out like a sore thumb. That's no ladies' club out there."
"Tate wants me there and I want to go," she argued.
"All right," he conceded, but Tate could tell he was none too pleased. "We'll catch up with you shortly." He closed Carole's passenger door and they sped off.
"He never passes up an opportunity to make me feel like a useless appendage, does he?" she said. "I'm surprised he approved of you marrying me."
"He didn't have a chance. We couldn't track him down, remember?"
"Of course I remember," she said crossly. "I only meant. . .oh, never mind. I don't want to talk about Eddy."
"I know he's not one of your favorite people. Sometimes his nagging can be a real pain in the ass. But his instincts are rarely wrong."
"I trust his instincts," she said. "I'm not so sure I trust him."
"What's he ever done to make you mistrust him?"
She averted her head and gazed out the windshield. "Nothing, I guess. Lord, it's hot."
Leaning as far forward as the seat belt would allow, she pulled off her suit jacket. Beneath it was a matching silk blouse. Beneath that, her breasts filled up the lacy yellow brassiere he'd seen while peeping through the bathroom door.
"You were brilliant, Tate," she remarked. "Not condescending or patronizing. They wouldn't have condoned that. As it was, they were eating out of your hand." She glanced at him sideways. "Especially the one in the bright blue dress on the front row. What color were her panties?"
"She wasn't wearing any."
The blunt retort knocked the props out from under her. She hadn't been expecting it. Her teasing smile evaporated. Again, she turned her head forward and stared through the windshield.
He could tell she was wounded. Well, that was fair, wasn't it? He'd been nursing this ache in his groin for days. Why should he be the only one to suffer? An imp was sitting on his shoulder goading him to make her as miserable as he was.
"I avoided the abortion issue. Did you notice?"
"No."
"I didn't know what to say. Maybe I should have called you to the lectern. You could have given us a firsthand account of what it's like."
When she faced him, there were tears in her eyes. "I told you I'd never had an abortion."
"But I'll never know for certain which time you were lying, will I?"
"Why are you being this way, Tate?"
Because there is aking-size bedin our room, he thought. Before I share it with you, I've got to remind myself of all the reasons I despise you.
He didn't say that, of course.
He took the cloverleaf at the highway interchange at an indiscriminate speed. Once again onastraightaway, he speeded up even more. If it hadn't been for some quick thinking and daredevil driving, he would have overshot the exit.
There was a delegation waiting for them at the gate to the automotive plant. Tate parked a distance away so he'd have time to collect himself before having to be civil. He felt likeabrawl. He wanted to slug it out. He didn't feel like smiling and promising to solve labor's problems when he couldn't even solve his own marital dilemma. He didn't want any part of his wife exceptthatpart, and he wanted it with every masculine fiber of his body.
"Put your jacket back on," he ordered her, even though he was removing his tie and rolling up his shirtsleeves.
"I intend to," she replied coolly.
"Good. Your nipples are poking against your blouse. Or is that what you had in mind?"
"Go to hell," she said sweetly as she shoved open her car door.
He had to give her credit. She recovered admirably from his stinging insults and conversed intelligently with the union bosses who were there to greet them. Eddy and Jack arrived about the time the shift changed and the doors of the plant began to disgorge workers. Those coming to work converged on them from the parking lot. Tate shook hands with everyone he could reach.
Each time he glanced at Carole, she was campaigning just as diligently as he. She listened intently to whomever was speaking with her. As Eddy had said, dressed in her yellow silk, she did stick out in this crowd. Her dark hair reflected the sunlight like a mirror. Her flawless face didn't distance people, but attracted women workers as well as men.
Tate looked for something to criticize, but could find nothing. She reached for dirty hands and gave them a friendly shake. Her smile was unflagging, even though the crowd was rambunctious and the heat unbearable.
And she was the first one to reach his side when something struck him and he went down.