The President's Daughter - Mariah Stewart [4]
“Right now, I’m working on my book.” Simon shifted slightly in his seat.
“Anything that’s generating a little income?”
“Not at the moment.” The fact was that he was pretty close to the end of his savings, a fact that Simon knew he’d have to deal with in the very near future.
Both men picked at their salads for a long moment; then Norton said, “I have a proposal I’d like to run past you.”
“A proposal?”
“For a book that I have in mind. One I’d very much like to see written.”
Simon looked up from his plate of greens, wondering where this might lead.
“Simon, what do you know about Graham Hayward?”
“The late President?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I know that he’s considered by some to be one of the great presidents of the twentieth century. That he had the reputation of being totally honest and ethical.” Here Simon smiled and added, “As honest and ethical as any man with so much power could be, I suppose. And I know that, back in the seventies, when he was in office, you were his press secretary before you taught at Georgetown.”
“And very proud to be. Graham Hayward was a man who was never touched by scandal. As far as I know, he kept his promise to never lie to the American people. Hayward set the moral standard that subsequent occupants of the White House have never been able to live up to.”
“How did you meet him?”
“We were both from Rhode Island, both attended Brown, as you may know, though he was several years ahead of me. Our paths crossed many, many times over the years. I supported him in every way I could. I was thrilled to be able to work with him in the White House. Those days were some of the best of my life.”
Norton sipped at his tea. “I suppose you’re wondering where this is leading and what it might have to do with you.”
“Yes.”
Both men paused as the waiter placed the barely touched salads to one side to make room for their entrées.
“President Hayward’s son is being groomed to run in the next election; are you aware of that?”
“I’d heard some talk.”
“He’s the perfect choice. Mind you, I’ve known young Gray since he was a boy. He’s his father all over again. So often that doesn’t happen, you know. All too often, the apple falls far from the tree.” Norton shook his head. “But not in this case. Gray is every bit his father’s son. He’ll make a fine candidate. A fine President.”
“I’ve heard he’s made a name for himself as a congressman. He’s in his, what, third term?”
“Third, yes. He’s done an excellent job on the Hill. The party’s been working with him over the past few years, cultivating his image. You see him at least once a week with his wife, his children, often his widowed mother, at his side. Always, the family together, rock solid. The party honchos know they have a winner in this young man, Simon.”
“You were going to tell me what this had to do with me.” Simon was becoming antsy for the point to be reached. He couldn’t possibly imagine what it might be.
“In an effort to . . . let’s say, lay the groundwork for young Gray’s run for the White House, I’d like to do a new biography of Graham Senior. Something that would bring him—and his accomplishments—back into the minds and hearts of the American people.”
“And you’re planning on publishing this book yourself?”
“Yes.”
“Isn’t that just a little self-indulgent?” Simon heard himself say before tact kicked in, and he added, “I mean, you were just saying how you disliked using Brookes Press for personal reasons. If I understood you correctly.”
“Oh, you understood perfectly. I did say—and mean—exactly that.” Norton smiled to himself, pleased that Simon had not missed the point. “But I prefer to think of this book as being less a vanity effort than a timely exercise. It’s the right time to do such a book. Someone will do it, sooner or later. I’d like to be that someone, and I’d like to do it sooner rather than later.”
Simon was buttering a roll, still wondering what all this had to do with him, when Norton