Journey

“He was one of the President's advisers for a short time, after he taught at Harvard. His ideas go right back to the Middle Ages, and he's a stickler for principles and morality. The original pilgrim.” It was an unkind way of describing him, and it irked Maddy as she listened.

“I think there's more to him than that. He seems very sensible, and intelligent, and a very decent person.”

“I guess I just don't like him. Not enough life to the guy, or sex appeal or something.” It was an odd thing for him to say because Bill was a handsome man, but there was something very straight arrow and sincere about him. He was the exact opposite of the jazzier crowd Jack Hunter liked to hang out with, but Maddy wasn't sure she minded Bill's style and ideas. Although he didn't seem glamorous enough to her husband.

They were home by ten o'clock, and out of habit, she turned on the news and then stopped dead in her tracks when she saw that U.S. troops had led another invasion on Iraq. She turned toward Jack, and saw something odd in his eyes as he watched the broadcast.

“You knew about this, didn't you?” she asked him directly.

“I don't advise the President on his wars, Mad. Just about media issues.”

“Bullshit. You knew. That's why you went to Camp David last week, isn't it? And why you're going to the Pentagon this weekend. Why didn't you tell me?” There had been times when he shared top secret information with her, but this time he hadn't. For the first time, she felt as though he didn't trust her, and she was hurt by it.

“This was too sensitive, and too important.”

“We're going to lose a lot of boys over there, Jack,” she said, sounding worried. Her mind was whirling. It was going to be an important story for her too, on Monday.

“Sometimes that's a sacrifice you have to make,” he said coolly. He thought the President had made the right decision. He and Maddy had differed on that subject before, and she wasn't as convinced as her husband.

They watched the last of the news as the anchor said that nineteen marines had been killed that morning in an exchange with Iraqi soldiers. Then Jack switched off the set, and she followed him into their bedroom. “It's interesting that President Armstrong let you in on it. Why, Jack?” She looked suspicious as she asked him.

“Why shouldn't he? He trusts me.”

“He trusts you, or he's using you as a spin doctor, to make the American public swallow this without hurting his image?”

“He has a right to get advice on how to handle the media. There's no crime in that.”

“No crime, but maybe not very honest either, to sell the public something that might be a very bad idea in the long run.”

“Spare me your political opinions, Mad. The President knows what he's doing.” He dismissed her summarily, which annoyed her, and it intrigued her that Jack was developing such a position of importance with the current administration. She wondered if that was partly behind his fury over her story about Janet McCutchins on Tuesday. Maybe he was afraid of some embarrassment that could upset the delicate balance of power for him. Jack always kept his eye on the ball, and what it could potentially cost him. He made calculations about everything he touched and even more so about the things that might touch him. But when he climbed into bed with her that night, he was warmer to her than he had been in days, and when he reached out and pulled her closer, she could sense that he was hungry for her.

“I'm sorry it's been such a bad week for us,” she said gently, as he held her.

“Don't do it again, Mad. I won't forgive you next time, and do you know what would happen if I ever fired you?” His voice sounded hard and cold. “You'd be dead in the water the next day. You'd be finished, Mad. Your career depends on me, and don't you ever forget it. Don't fuck with me, Maddy. I could snuff out your career like a candle. You're not the star you like to think you are. It's all because you're married to me.” The way he said it made her feel sick and sad, not for what she might lose if he threw her out, but for the way he said it to her. She didn't say anything in response, and he pinched her nipples hard, too hard, and then without another word, he grabbed her, and showed her who was in control. It was never Maddy, always Jack. She was beginning to think that power and control were all that mattered to him.

Chapter 5

ON SATURDAY, WHEN MADDY GOT UP, Jack was already dressed and about to leave for his meeting. He told her he'd be at the Pentagon all day, and not to expect to see him until dinnertime. “Why are you going there?” she asked, as she watched him from their bed. He looked handsome and well dressed, in a pair of slacks and a blazer and gray turtleneck sweater. It was warm outside, but he knew he'd be in an air-conditioned room all day, and it would be chilly.