Page 19 of The Senator's Wife

He bristled at her words. She was relentless. “Sloane had surgery today, remember? I’m at the hospital.”

“Oh, that’s right. I forgot that was today. You’re not staying there all night, are you? Won’t she be out of it?”

“Of course I’m staying. Is there something in particular you need?” he asked.

“I’m not sure you want me to answer that.”

He shook his head. “I can’t talk now.”

“Oh, boo. Fine. I’ll catch up with you tomorrow. Give my regards to Sloane.” She laughed. “On second thought, don’t.”

Whit put the phone into his pocket and sighed. Madelyn was becoming more and more of a problem. She couldn’t get it through her head that he was committed to Sloane. Was he going to have to spend the rest of his life paying for the mistake of sleeping with Madelyn?

- 16 -

ATHENA

Athena walked down the curving stairs, letting the tips of her fingers glide lightly along the smooth wooden banister. The house was quiet, and she realized that no sounds from the outside world were discernible. It was like being in a fortress. She supposed that was an apt term for this imposing structure that kept the outsiders out and those who lived within its walls sequestered and secure.

The senator and Sloane had left for the hospital hours ago. The staff had been given the day off, with the exception of Doris, who had finally left to run some errands, saying she’d be back in a few hours. As Athena reached the landing, she paused, considering where to start. She had at least two hours alone, and Sloane wouldn’t be home until tomorrow at the very soonest. The senator would most certainly be at her side when she came out of surgery and would continue to stay with her through the night. She decided to take a quick stroll through all the rooms before she began to look in earnest.

During the past week of her stay here, Athena had seen most of the house, but now she was able to take more time to drink it all in. The thick rugs under her feet, the deep cushioned chairs and sofas in muted creams and whites, the gracious chests and cabinets. Nothing was overdone; all of it in exquisite taste born of generations of wealth and privilege. Yes, she knew interior decorators could approximate this look, but they could never completely replicate that elusive element of old-money confidence and nonchalance. It was mind-blowing the way some people got to live whilemost of the world struggled to just get by. What would it be like, she wondered, to grow up in a home like this?

Before Athena left the living room, she stopped at the grand piano, on which a dozen gold-framed photographs sat. Her eyes locked onto one of Sloane and her daughter, Emmy, at the beach, both of them sitting on the sand. Emmy must have been six or seven in the picture, her long blond hair grazing Sloane’s shoulder as she leaned her head against her mother. They were both grinning, their faces filled with joy. Athena wondered if it had been Robert behind the camera. She picked up the photo next to it, one of Robert and Sloane. It looked like it might have been taken on their honeymoon, the two of them standing arm in arm in front of the Parthenon. They made a stunning couple, Robert tall and good-looking, his blond hair the color of Emmy’s, and Sloane with a beauty that was girlish and elegant at the same time. Sighing, Athena replaced the picture. We take so much for granted, she thought, never realizing how life can change in an instant.

Enough,she said to herself, turning away from the piano. It was time to get down to business. She strode with purpose to Whit’s office, but when she tried to turn the handle, nothing happened. Locked. She bent down to take a closer look and read the name on the lock. Bowley. Snapping a photo, she texted it to Clint. She’d never seen that kind before and would have to talk to him before attempting to pick it. Her tool could get stuck in the lock if she didn’t know what she was dealing with, and that would mark the end of her employment here. Whit’s office would have to wait for another time. She sighed in frustration and moved instead to Sloane’s office, where the door opened easily. Sloane’s perfume lingered in the room, fresh and pleasing. Athena sat in the chair behind the desk and opened the top drawer, finding the usual supply of paper clips and pens. She continued until she’d opened every drawer, but there was nothing out of the ordinary in any of them—a to-do list of things to take care of prior to her hip surgery, a list of instructions for the caretaker at the house in Key West, a notebook withnames and numbers of repairmen and important phone numbers in Florida, Rehoboth Beach, and Georgetown. And more of the same. She pulled out her phone and snapped pictures of the pages and texted them to Clint. You never knew what information could be useful.

She sat back, exhaling a disappointed breath, and looked around the room. The only other furniture were two chairs and a small table between them. The bookshelves, however, held a few carved boxes, and Athena rose to take a look. One held a glass set of turquoise worry beads; one was empty; in the third sat two ceramic birds’ eggs. Oh well, it would have been too much to ask, she supposed, to strike gold on the first try.

Closing the door behind her, Athena went to the kitchen. She made a cup of coffee in the gleaming cappuccino machine and sat drinking. She finished her coffee and rinsed out the cup. Now for the bedrooms.

She’d been in Sloane and Whit’s bedroom only once, although after tomorrow, when Sloane returned from the hospital, this room would become more and more familiar. It was large but inviting nevertheless, with an air of intimacy and luxury. Athena went first to the nightstand, a small Chinese chest with beautiful painted designs on its doors. She pulled the hanging gold rings and swung open both doors. Books, and some papers. She looked through them one by one. A few book reviews cut from the newspaper, an unused notepad, and a journal. She flipped through it, but all it contained was a list of books with comments about each one.

This was getting her nowhere. Perhaps Sloane’s office at the foundation would yield something more useful. As she walked to the door and turned to survey the room once more, her gaze came to rest on the low three-drawer bureau. Most likely only clothing, but it didn’t hurt to check. Sliding each drawer open without expectation, she found what she thought she would—lingerie, sleepwear, workout clothing. Nothing else. On impulse she went to Sloane’s closet, curious to see what magnificent things werehiding behind its doors. As she stepped inside, she thought how ludicrous it was to call this room a mere closet. Custom-built shelving for shoes and handbags, slide-out drawers for sweaters and other folded items, and in the middle of the room a center island with drawers that looked like they might hold jewelry and other accessories. A large floor-to-ceiling mirror with an elegant ornamental frame stood at one end of the room. Athena had only seen rooms like this in photographs.

She moved to the wall where Sloane’s dresses hung, grouped by color from white to turquoise to black and everything in between. She moved the hangers one by one, feeling the expensive fabric between her fingers and admiring the beautiful designs. Pulling out an especially exquisite black cocktail dress, Athena went to the mirror and held it up against her body, turning slightly and tilting her head from side to side as she studied her reflection. She’d never owned anything this magnificent. Sighing ruefully, she put the dress back and turned to leave.

“What are you doing?” An indignant Doris stood in the doorway.

Athena jumped. She hadn’t heard her come up the stairs. Doris was staring at her with open hostility, and Athena gave the woman what she hoped was an unperturbed look. “I was just making sure everything is ready for Mrs. Montgomery’s return. She left me a note with a list of items she wanted me to pick up and put in the closet for her.”

Doris held out a hand. “May I see that? She didn’t mention needing anything extra to me.”

“Since I’ve been here, I’ve seen how invaluable you are to Mrs. Montgomery and how much she depends upon you. I’m sure you know how much pride she has. These items she asked me to pick up are…um…of a personal medical nature. She probably felt more comfortable asking me, as her home healthcare worker, to pick them up. I’m thinking perhaps she would prefer I kept them private.”

“Oh…of course. I didn’t mean to pry.”

“I know you’re only looking out for her. I hope you’ll advise me on how best to support her, since you’ve been with her for so long.”

She saw with relief that her words seemed to mollify the older woman, whose expression relaxed a bit.

“I’d be glad to give you any advice you need. In the meantime, I came up to tell you there’s red lentil soup the cook left. If you’d like some for dinner, you can just heat it up.”

“Thank you.” Athena smiled again. “I’ll take care of a few things and have it a little later.”

She headed to her room and from the corner of her eye saw Doris descend the stairs. She’d have to tread lightly with Doris. Having someone in the house who didn’t trust her was something she couldn’t afford.

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