Standing in the Rainbow - Fannie Flagg [138]
Peter Wheeler, whom Hamm had defeated six years ago and who had turned down Hamm’s offer to join his administration, was a gentleman and as gracious as ever. “I think you should, Vita, and at least hear him out. You never know, and he may be trying to branch out a little.”
She thought about what he had said and after a moment replied, “I suppose you’re right, Peter—anything for art, as they say.”
A few days later, a member of Hamm’s staff called and informed her the governor was going to be in Kansas City for the day and asked if she would be available Wednesday morning between 8:30 and 9:00, before he did his speech at the Elks Club. Although it was an ungodly hour for her, she agreed to meet with him at the arts council building downtown. When she arrived that morning he was already in the president’s office making phone calls. A nervous secretary said, “He says you are to go right in.” His back was to the door and he was on the phone with his feet propped up on the windowsill. She stopped at the door but her perfume did not. It traveled on before her and wafted across the desk and caused him to turn around and hang up instantly. In that perfume were the possibilities of every kind of exotic evening, whether on the roof of her penthouse or on a moonlit beach in the tropics. All this before she said, “Hello, I’m Vita Green.”
When he saw the woman he had only seen in the black-and-white newspaper photographs standing there in living color, Hamm suddenly forgot every other pretty girl he had ever seen in his life—and as governor he saw quite a few, mostly blond beauty queens that had just won some contest or another. In his entire married life he had never thought of another woman in that way, but when Vita walked in, all thinking went out the door and slammed it shut. What stood before him now was the Rolls-Royce of womanhood. She was not a girl. She was a grown woman who, he could tell just by looking, was smarter and more powerful than he was by a mile and it excited him. He felt as if someone had just smacked him in the face with a million dollars. And as usual, it did not take him long to make up his mind.
What Vita Green now saw, jumping up and coming around the desk to shake her hand, was a stocky man about her height in low heels, not handsome in the way she was used to, certainly not sophisticated or well dressed. But when he grabbed her hand and held on to it as if he was afraid she would escape, she was somewhat taken by surprise by the energy and vitality and just the sheer heat of the man when he touched her. She was used to being admired by men but this one was different. On first meeting her, most men were overwhelmed and usually fumbled and stepped back away from her, trying to think of a clever thing to say. But, clearly, Hamm Sparks was not trying to think of clever things—or stepping back. There was nothing thought out or calculated about his approach. He said exactly what was on his mind at the moment, he looked at her with the unguarded genuine appreciation of a male for a female, and said, “Mrs. Green, what is it going to take for me to get you? Because I’m telling you right now, I’m gonna move heaven and hell to get it. You want me to jump through hoops for you? Just tell me how high and how many.”
Now she was taken aback and, to her astonishment, she found this total candor to be refreshing and completely irresistible. She had to smile. At that moment someone started knocking on the door.
She said, “Why don’t we start with dinner?”
Not letting go of her hand and looking right into her eyes, he said, “Mrs. Green, I can’t wait that long. How about lunch?”
“It’s Vita. Where would you like to go?”
“I don’t care. You tell me where and when. . . .”
“How about the Downtown Club. Shall we say one o’clock?”
He nodded.
“Will we be discussing