Free Cut and Thrust by Stuart Woods

is pretty good, isn’t it?”
    “It’s spectacular! Being on the inside of the action and having you in my bed every night is almost more than I can stand.”
    Ann laughed again. “It’s almost more than I can stand, too.”
    “What are you going to do if Kate wins?”
    “Just between you and me?”
    “Of course.”
    “I’m going to be the next White House chief of staff.”
    “Kate has offered you that?”
    “She has, and I’ve accepted.”
    “What is that going to do to your life?”
    “It will destroy my life as I know it,” Ann said. “I’ll be constantly on call—twenty-four/seven—I won’t get much sleep. And I won’t have a social life that doesn’t involve a White House dinner.”
    “That doesn’t sound very good for you and me,” Stone said.
    “No, it doesn’t—you’re going to have to give me up if Kate is president.”
    “Entirely?”
    “Oh, we can have an occasional dinner and roll in the hay, in D.C. or New York. But for every four dates we make, I’ll have to break three. Something will come up.”
    “I don’t like the sound of that much.”
    “I don’t like it much, either,” Ann said, “but it’s how it will be. I’ll have a chance to make a difference for this country, and I’ll give up everything else to do that.”
    “I can’t blame you, Ann.”
    “Thank you.”
    “What will you do if Kate loses?” he asked.
    “I’ll move to New York, apply for a job with Woodman and Weld, and sleep with you every night. If you’ll have me.”
    “No doubt about that.”
    “You’re sweet.”
    “I’m greedy.”
    “It’s one of the things I like best about you,” she said. “Let’s go be greedy right now.”
    And they did.
    —
    HALF A MILE down Stone Canyon, Mr. and Mrs. Charles Grosvenor were undressing after dinner.
    “How did you think our lunch went?” Charles asked his wife.
    “I thought it went very well.”
    “Do you think Barrington recognized you?”
    “I know he didn’t,” she said. “I’ve always been good at makeovers.”
    “You certainly have—and I love the gray hair.”
    “I thought of affecting a British accent, but that might have been a little much. After all, there are people in L.A. who know who Barbara Eagle Grosvenor is.”
    “What if Barrington mentions our lunch to Ed Eagle? He knows my name.”
    “He won’t have any reason to mention it, since he hasn’t figured it out.”
    “And you’re going to use Barrington to get at Eagle?”
    “Ideally, yes. Don’t worry, I won’t get caught. I’ll get away with it, I always have.”
    “You have that gift,” Charles said. “And what will you do if you can’t get at Eagle?”
    Barbara smiled a little smile. “Then I’ll destroy someone close to him.”
    “Barrington?”
    “Perhaps. It would cut Ed to the bone, and that’s been my pleasure for a long time.”
    “Whatever you want, my sweet.”
    “I want you to come over here and fuck me,” she said, stretching out on the bed.
    “It’s what I do best, isn’t it?” he asked, joining her.
    “It certainly is, my darling.”

G overnor Richard Collins was joined for breakfast by Vice President Martin Stanton in the governor’s bungalow at the Beverly Hills Hotel. A table had been elegantly laid on the private patio. The governor was sitting in a chaise longue, reading a stack of morning papers. A political writer’s daily column had caught his eye, and he read it quickly.
    “Good morning, Dick,” the vice president said from the patio door. A Secret Service agent stood behind him. The agent looked quickly around the patio, then stepped back into the bungalow’s living room and closed the door between him and his charge.
    “Good morning, Marty,” Collins said, rising to greet his guest. “Shall we sit down?” He motioned his guest to a chair. “Orange juice?” the governor asked, picking up a pitcher.
    “Thank you, yes.”
    “Would you like some champagne or vodka in it?”
    “Thanks, I’ll wait until