Authors: Sandi Perry
"How
thoughtful
of
you
to
offer,
but
I
have
a
bevy
of
party
planners
tripping
over
one
another
working
on
pulling
this
thing
together.
So
come
and
enjoy
and
look
as
beautiful
as
ever."
"Bye,
send
my
love
to
Kaitlin."
Allison
clicked
the
phone
off
and
shot
a
triumphant
look
at
Alex.
"You
can
leave
now."
He
got
up
and
headed
wordlessly
for
the
door,
"Be
careful,
Allison,
don't
make
the
foolish
mistake
of
allowing
your
personal
feelings
to
cloud
your
business
judgment."
"That
sounds
like
a
thinly-veiled
threat."
"Take
it
however
it
sounds."
"I
bet
you'd
do
just
about
anything
to
get
this
job."
He
gave
her
a
cold
stare
and
shrugged
his
shoulders
in
response.
"Being
ambitious
isn't
a
crime,"
he
said.
She
watched
him
leave
and
softly
said,
"But
it
could
be."
And
once
again
she
wondered
who
Alexander
Coventry
really
was.
****
Allison
was
seated
on
the
top
level
of
the
restaurant
while
she
waited
for
her
mother
to
arrive.
She
had
a
great
view
of
the
street
from
her
perch
and
waved
enthusiastically
at
her
as
she
saw
her
mother
cross
the
street.
She
came
up
the
stairs
looking
fresh-eyed,
her
skin
glowing
softly.
Her
mom
plopped
down
in
the
chair
facing
her
and
began
to
unwind
her
scarf.
"I
remember
those
stairs
being
a
little
more
manageable
in
the
past,"
she
said.
"Sorry,
I
should
have
taken
a
table
downstairs,
but
it's
a
little
more
private
up
here."
She
peered
closely
at
her
mother,
"Did
you
have
a
facial?
Your
skin
looks
tres magnifique
!"
"Yes,"
she
responded
as
she
reached
up
to
smooth
her
cheek.
"Let's
order,
I'm
famished."
They
placed
their
orders
and
Allison
looked
at
her
mother
expectantly.
Her
mother
twirled
her
water
goblet
in
response
and
fiddled
with
the
napkin
on
her
lap.
"Mother,
any
specific
reason
you
came
into
the
city
today?
I'm
assuming
it
wasn't
to
have
lunch
with
me."
"I
was
just
thinking
the
other
day
how
wonderful
it
must
be
to
be
Hillary
Clinton,"
she
responded.
"Ma,
you're
a
Republican,"
Allison
said.
Her
mother
waved
her
hand,
"Politics
aside,
I'm
talking
about
the
sheer
access
to
so
much
power
and
she
doesn't
even
have
to
do
her
own
shopping
or
laundry.
She
has
staff
to
do
these
things
for
her.
Imagine
Hilary
Clinton
going
to
the
dry
cleaners,"
she
scoffed.
Allison
looked
at
her
incredulously,
"Is
everything
alright?"
"Yes.
Of
course,
why
would
you
ask
that?"
She
leaned
into
the
table,
"Do
you
think
they
still
sleep
together?"
"Oookay,
that's
enough.
What's
really
going
on?"
"Actually,
I
wanted
to
let
you
know..."
She
looked
up
gratefully
at
the
waiter
as
he
put
a
plate
of
pan-seared
tuna
in
front
of
her.
"My,
this
looks
delicious!
Doesn't
this
look
delicious,
Ally?"
"You're
getting
excited
over
tuna;
please
tell
me
this
isn't
bad
news."
"No,
no,
no,
sweetheart,
of course
not.
I
simply
wanted
to
tell
you
that
Michael
asked
me
to
help
him
host
Kaitlin's
birthday
party
this
evening."
Allison's
mouth
fell
open,
"And
you
said
no,
of
course."
"I
said
yes."
Allison
narrowed
her
eyes,
"And
when
you
came
into
the
city
on
Tuesday?
What
was
that
about?"
"We
had
a
lovely
dinner."
"I
see."
"It
seems
that
you
don't
like
him."
"It's
not
that,
although
he
did
take
some
getting
used
to
in
the
beginning.
I
mean
you
do
know
the
things
that
are
said
about
him?"
She
nodded.
"He
even
tried
to
make
a
play
for
me,
although
it
was
a
rather
feeble
attempt."
"I
didn't
know
that,"
her
mother
frowned.
"Look,
you're
an
adult,
do
what
you
want,
but
the
whole
thing
strikes
me
as
odd."
"How
so?"
"Well,
he's
incredibly
over-protective
of
Kaitlin
and
here
he's
asked
you
to
help
him
chaperone
twenty-five
thirteen
year
olds?
He
hardly
knows
you—it
doesn't
make
any
sense."
Allison
stabbed
at
her
pasta
primavera.
"The
way
he
explained
it
was
that
he
felt
the
children
might
benefit
from
a
mothering
touch.
He
hired
some
chaperones,
a
few
college
kids,
but
he
wanted
someone
a
bit
more
experienced
on
hand,
just
in
case."