Rapp was choking him with his own tie and speaking to him in his deep, confident, deliberate voice, and what did he do? He wet himself. He wanted to believe he did it after he’d passed out, but he knew he’d done it while he was still conscious, because he remembered the warmth spreading down his leg and thinking that Rapp had stabbed him and it was his blood. Then when he’d come to, he’d felt the wetness and saw the expression on Rapp’s face. It was a look of utter contempt. A look that said, “I had no idea you were that big a puss.” Kline had never felt so emasculated in all his life. He shuddered at the memory.

Lonsdale saw him shake and asked, “What’s wrong?”

Kline shook it off and said, “Nothing, it’s just been a really bad day.” Actually, it probably really had been the worst day of his life, but he didn’t want to appear so weak in front of the woman who held so much sway over his future.

“What happened?”

He skipped over how his day began and jumped ahead a few hours. “It started out with the deputy AG chewing my ass out for a good thirty minutes, and then the assistant AG for the criminal division read me the riot act, and then the director of the FBI called and told me to pull my head out of my ass, and then shortly after that, the AG himself called me and reminded me in extremely unpleasant terms just exactly who I worked for. Secretary of State Wicka’s office left a message for me and finally Secretary of Defense England himself called.”

Lonsdale expected a little heat to come down from within the Justice Department, but not from other Cabinet members. “What did England say?”

Kline looked over the top of his glass as he took a drink and said, “He called me your butt boy.”

“My butt boy?” she repeated, somewhat shocked.

“Yep. He said he knows damn well who was behind this stunt, and he’s not going to put up with some PC attorney from the DOJ sticking his nose in something that was already being handled.”

“I hope you told him it wasn’t being handled.”

Kline picked up the cigarettes. “I don’t think he was in the mood,” he said as he lit the first cigarette and then handed it to Lonsdale, “to hear what I had to say.”

Lonsdale took the cigarette, thrilled by the prospect that it had just touched Kline’s lips. “You have nothing to worry about.”

“From where I’m sitting it seems like I have a lot to worry about.”

Lonsdale set down her drink and reached out and grabbed his arm. “You have to trust me on this, Wade. They’re trying to scare you off this, hoping that it will simply go away, but it isn’t going to go away. This whole sordid mess is going to be in front of my committee the day after tomorrow, and then you are going to look like a hero.”

Kline was silent for a long moment and then after looking around he started laughing.

“What’s so funny?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “I just thought of something my dad said to me years ago.”

“What’s that?”

“He was a lawyer too, and he used to rattle off all the great attorneys in New York, and he used to say to me, ‘Son, do you know what they all have in common?’ And I used to say, ‘They’re all smart,’ and he’d laugh and say, ‘They’re all smart, but what they really have in common is that everyone hates them.’”

“The old adage that you can’t be successful without people hating you,” Lonsdale agreed.

“I suppose.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll stick to our deal,” she said. “The Criminal Division is yours.”

“Not if the White House has anything to say about it.”

“If the president wants to get any of his judges confirmed he’ll go along… trust me.”

Kline took a big gulp from his drink and said, “So what’s next?”

“How about dinner?”

“Oh,” he said, trying to buy a second to think, “I’d love to, but I have plans. In fact I really should get going.”

Lonsdale looked up into his damn blue/gray eyes and thought about kissing him. “But I just got here.”

“You were forty-five minutes late,” he reminded her.

“But I’m a senator.” She smiled. “I have a busy schedule.”

Kline took a step back and laughed in a carefree way. He held his glass up and said, “The most beautiful senator on the Hill.”

Lonsdale blushed. “Flirting will get you everywhere.”

“I’ll have to remember that, but I’m going to have to take a rain check on dinner.”

Lonsdale’s euphoric mood plummeted, but she didn’t let him see the disappointment she was feeling. “I know,” she started, “I have three more functions to attend to this evening, but I would have loved some company.”

“Next time,” he said in a rush. “I promise.”

“Good.” Not wanting the rejection to drag on any longer than it already had, she offered him her cheek, and said, “You’d better get going.”

Kline kissed the smooth skin just beneath her high cheekbone and then retreated. Lonsdale watched him walk back into her office and when he was finally gone, she let loose an emotional exhalation and began fanning herself with her free hand.

CHAPTER 47

RALPH Wassen entered the expansive office and eyeballed the dejected look on his boss’s face. He had just passed Wade Kline in the hallway and guessed correctly that Lonsdale’s consternation was due to the handsome boy wonder from the Justice Department. Never one to beat around the bush he blurted out, “You want to sleep with him, don’t you?”

“Excuse me?” Lonsdale said, genuinely stunned.

“Don’t act so shocked.”

“Ah…” she stammered.

“I knew it.”

She smiled, “It may have crossed my mind.”

“I’m going to win so much money.”

Lonsdale grabbed his arm. “What?”

“We started an office pool,” he said in an exaggerated nonchalant way.

“You’re full of shit.”

“Of course I am.” Wassen turned and went to the bar. As he started to pour himself a scotch on the rocks, he asked, “Well… why don’t you?”

Lonsdale plopped down on the silk Empire sofa and kicked off her pumps. “You know why?”

“No, I don’t.”

“For starters… he’s a little young.”

“That hasn’t stopped you before.”

“This one is different.”

“How?” Wassen asked as he collapsed into one of the parlor chairs.

“He owes me his job.”

“Who cares? People do it in this town all the time.”

“He’s married.”

“That hardly matters these days.”

“I thought you were supposed to look out for my best interests?” she asked with a curious eye.

“I am. It’s just that I think you’re in a bit of a funk lately.”

“A funk?”

“You know… a little bitchy.” He took a sip of his drink.

“So I should sleep my way out of it?”

“Basically. No one is going to hold it against you. At least not your base. The jackals might take a swipe at you, but then again it might help your image. The two of you make a striking couple.”

“I’m old enough to be his mother.”

“Technically, yes, but you don’t look twenty years his senior.”

“Thank you.” She smiled.

“At least not with your clothes on,” he added quickly.

“You are terrible,” Lonsdale said with a scowl.

“Teasing,” Wassen announced as he held up his drink. “You know my motto… You only live once. So, start living. Sleep with him, get it out of your system, and drop all this nonsense with Rapp and Nash.”

Lonsdale was startled. “Where in the hell did that come from?”

“Everybody in the office is talking about it.”

“About Rapp?”

“No, that you need to get laid.”

“Cut the crap for a minute. Why in the world do you think I should let the CIA off the hook?”

“I don’t know,” Wassen shrugged, “because maybe they’re doing the right thing?”

Lonsdale sat there for a long moment and stared at her longtime advisor. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am, and I don’t know why you’ve decided to make this your cause. There’s plenty of things to get upset about in this town.”