Call to Treason - Tom Clancy [47]
A white stretch limousine pulled up. A couple got out. She ignored them. They ignored her. A few minutes later, a cab arrived and two men emerged. One of them attempted to talk to her. He was a lobbyist for the recording industry. Close, but not worth the effort. She did not cry. She did not continue the conversation.
The third limousine was a black stretch. A gray-haired gentleman emerged with a young aide. The older man was about sixty and dressed in Armani. He was wearing a wedding band and a deep tan. He obviously lived in a sunny climate. He was tall and trim and apparently worked out.
She started to sob. With a glance her way and a tug on his cuff links, the older man excused himself from the younger man and walked over.
"Is there something wrong, miss?" he asked.
Southern accent. Deep south. He touched her shoulder. She looked at his hand and then at him. The hand appeared soft, except for chafing around the crook of the thumb. From a golf glove and too-hard grip, she imagined. There were three clear one-carat diamonds in the cuff link and a Rolex on his wrist.
"Thank you, but I I don't want to trouble you," she said.
"It's no trouble to stop a pretty girl's tears," he replied.
She smiled up at him. "You're sweet. But really, I'll be all right just as soon as I find someone to teach my husband a lesson."
"Where I come from, looking after the honor of a lady is not only a duty, it is a privilege," the man said. "May I ask what the problem is? Perhaps I can help."
"I was here to meet a friend for drinks," she said. "I was sitting here, and he came in with one of his coworkers. He was all over her.
He was supposed to be at a conference. He did not even see me." She started sobbing again.
The man handed her his handkerchief. It was monogrammed "May I ask your name?" he said.
"Bonnie," she said.
"How utterly charming," he said. "I am Robert Lawless. Bob to my friends. If you like, we can talk about this further."
"Mr. Lawless "
"Bob," he said softly.
"Bob," she said, "I appreciate your kindness, but I think I'll just sit here a while and then go home."
"To a scoundrel?"
"For now," she said. "I will see about having him relocated in the morning."
"I am not without connections here," Bob said, patting her shoulder.
"Perhaps I can help. If you'd like, we can still have that drink."
She shook her head vehemently. "No! He's still here, and I don't want to see him again "
"In my suite, then, if you like," Bob said. "I will be a gentleman."
The woman dabbed her eyes and looked into his. "Well I don't feel like going home, and it is chilly."
"That is to be expected when you sit beside a fountain," he pointed out with a smile. "Your shoulder is damp with spray. We can set your coat out to dry."
She smiled back. "All right, Mr. Lawless Bob. Thank you. I would be delighted to join you for a drink."
Bob walked back to his aide and finished up their conversation. He sent the young man off in the limousine, then returned. He offered her his arm. She put on sunglasses to hide her bloodshot eyes, she said then took it. Less than two minutes later they were in his penthouse suite.
They sat in the living room, and he poured drinks from the minibar. He removed her damp jacket for her. He sat on a separate chair, though he did move it over to be close. She asked what he did. He said he was one of the largest commercial real estate brokers in the Carolinas. He told her he spent a great deal of time in Washington lobbying for tax incentives so that companies would stay in the United States instead of moving to Mexico or the Far East.
She felt bad. Bob Lawless was her kind of guy, except for the fact that he obviously had a wife and did not care. But she was here, and they needed this kill.