Arrow's Rest by Joel Scott (best books to read all time .TXT) 📗

“Well, it’s still early,” he said. “Come on, we’re going on a tour.”

He stood up and took her arm and they went back outside to the limo. She climbed into the rear seat with him, the aide sat up front with the driver, and they were off once more. A visit to an old folks home, a stop at a legion where he made a short speech of appreciation to a pair of veterans of the Korean War who were being honoured at an early luncheon, and then on to a Boy Scout meeting where he handed out badges to three young men whose names he knew by heart.

Albright was immediately recognized wherever they went, always the centre of attention, and usually welcomed with genuine warmth. Cat had seen it before, on some of her fashion and movie shoots. It was charisma, pure and simple. You either had it or you didn’t, and it wasn’t something you could fake. In her experience it had little to do with looks or attitude or carriage. It was that indefinable something called presence. As if a current of electricity radiated from certain people, affecting those who came within its circumference.

Cat realized she was becoming absurd when Albright reached out to touch her, drawing her towards a small child in the children’s hospital, and she flinched away, fearing a spark.

“This is Cathy,” he said. “She’s my favourite.”

The little girl beamed as he bent down and kissed her bald head before pulling a locket out of his pocket and presenting it to her. Cat would have been more impressed had she not seen the aide whisper in his ear and slip him the gift when they entered the ward. But she knew she was being unfair. He couldn’t possibly remember everyone he came into contact with. No person could.

A few words and they moved on down the ward, Albright guiding Cat with his arm lightly around her waist, signalling the stops and starts as they made their slow way along. It made her uncomfortable, but it would have been boorish to object. Another half hour and they were back in the limousine and on their way again.

“Is it always like this?” Cat inquired.

“Some of it is because it’s the weekend. More special events, more people around.”

“More voters,” Cat said.

“Oh absolutely, that’s a big part of it. If we don’t get the votes, we don’t get elected and don’t get to do all the good work.” James shrugged his shoulders and smiled. “As the man once said, it may not be a great system, it just happens to beat all the alternatives. Now sit back and relax, I’ve got a little surprise for you.”

My God, it has to be well over a hundred feet long, Cat thought as they approached the gleaming yacht tied up at the Port of Vancouver. She’d been on large motor yachts before, but never one so big that it had its own gangway and two guys in white kit standing at attention on each side of it. They saluted as she and Albright stepped up and onto the teak decks.

“I’m a little disappointed,” Cat said. “I was expecting to be piped aboard.”

“Maybe next time,” James said.

He nodded to the men and the gangway was raised and swung in and stowed alongside with quiet efficiency. Less than five minutes later they were heading out towards the Lions Gate Bridge. Cat looked back at the retreating city skyline and thought about phoning Jared. But it was early and they’d still be out on the racecourse. She’d call him when she had a better idea of her timetable. James took her by the elbow.

“This way,” he said, as he led her below.

The saloon was huge, with one corner set up as a lounge area complete with leather sofas and recliners and a big-screen TV. A long narrow dining table surrounded by chairs occupied the central area, and off in the far corner was a roped-off square with immaculate white canvas laid over the floor inside it.

“I like to do a little bit of sparring now and then,” James said. “Trying to stay in shape, you know how it is. I understand you do a little martial arts yourself.”

Now how in the hell could he know about that? Cat wondered. It was not included in the short biography that Reese had required of her for his website and Facebook page. Nor was it mentioned anywhere else as far as she knew.

“We did a little background check,” Albright said, anticipating her. “I hope you don’t mind. You know, in politics you can’t be too careful about people.”

“Actually,” Cat said, “I think that maybe I do mind.”

She was beginning to regret her impulsiveness in coming on the trip. Up close there was an aura of macho aggressiveness to the man that she found a bit repulsive. It was a combination of overconfidence and physical bearing, a kind of strutting certainty that he was the pack leader and irresistible to the opposite sex. Suddenly he reminded her a bit of a creepy Stallone in one of his later roles. He’s the type that would be irresistible to Lauren, though, Cat thought, and was immediately ashamed of her betrayal.

Albright said, “I apologize if I’ve offended you. It’s just that our people looked at your portfolio and were so impressed with you that I asked them to do a little extra digging. I shouldn’t have done that without asking you first. You ought to have been told, and I regret that you were not. That was a mistake on my part. Please accept my sincere apologies.”

He smiled down at her and there might just have been a little touch of mockery there.

I’m not sure he really gives a damn, Cat thought.

His cell phone rang, and he looked at the screen and turned away from her.

“I have to take this,” he said. “Please excuse me.”

He listened to the