Jealousy

In the suite, Harrison dropped Carol's travel bag on the expensive carpet and faced her. For a tantalizing moment, they stood silently gazing at each other in the subdued light of the luxurious sitting room. Without a word, they moved together, embraced and gently kissed. He held her face between his hands and treasured the classic beauty of his old friend. They kissed again, this time more insistently. Time ceased to have meaning. Burying his face in her dark golden hair, he inhaled her light floral perfume and drew her closer until their bodies molded intimately. Carol clearly felt his expanding need and responded by gently thrusting her pelvis forward to nestle against him, an erotic gesture that unambiguously signaled acceptance. They turned toward the bedroom.

Silently, they worshiped their bodies as each helped the other shed their clothes piece by piece. There was no hesitation. There was no shyness. The memory of that last teenage afternoon in a modest motel room in Galesburg so many years ago was fresh in both of their minds. Their mature bodies were softer now. Carol's full breasts had become slightly pendulous. Harrison's stomach lacked the defined muscles of his youth. Their passion was no less strong than it had been more than four decades earlier. There was no haste as he languidly readied her for his entry by delicately kissing her throat and caressing her soft breasts. He teased her swollen nipples between his lips. He lovingly kissed her abdomen and marveled at its firmness with only the faintest of stretch lines testifying to her three childbirths. His kisses lingered over her slowly opening thighs before turning to her welcoming moistness. She clasped his head and drew him closely into her. For many minutes he tasted her deeply and she writhed in delight. The two caring adults of sixty years joined perfectly and shared themselves as lovers have for millenniums. They showered their bodies with attention, both wanting to satisfy the other's lust before attaining their own release. Harrison raised himself and Carol joyously welcomed the strength of his penetration. Tender deep thrusts and slow withdrawals replaced the aggressive thrashing of youth and he relished the dark musky scent that confirmed her arousal. They approachedpetite mortwith unhurried anticipation. In the throes of a prolonged orgasm, Carol grasped at his shoulders, rolled her head and whimpered. Moments later, Harrison grimaced. His body tensed and he gasped as he burst.

Later, with Carol's head on his naked stomach and her soft golden hair splayed over his chest, the afterglow of their joining revived their spirits. They exchanged sighs of contentment. She tenderly held and kissed his flaccid maleness and he stroked her back with the same gentleness. They had found love and reveled in its discovery before drifting into a fulfilled sleep.

In the soft light of the morning they pleasured each other again, unmindful of the pelting rain that brought a second wet day to the Bay Area. Reassured of his affection by another shuttering climax, Carol turned on her side toward him, brushed the dark hair from his forehead and teased his chest for a moment with her fingers. Propping her head in her open palm she gazed fondly at his unhandsome face and smiled. "I have a confession to make. I didn't book a room for myself because I knew we were going to share each other from the moment I saw you at the conference ... I just didn't know it would be so soon ... and so incredibly perfect! Maybe it's a good thing that we drifted apart after high school. Being with you again is like discovering sex for the very first time! It took forty years but now you have a scheming woman on your hands Harrison. You're my target so be on your guard because I'm coming after you with all talons bared ... and I'm not going to let you escape from me again!" Grinning silently, he squeezed her shoulder as she continued. "Last week I was building up my nerve for this trip and I even bought a new negligee to vamp you with ... it's absolutely scandalous! Remind me to wear it for you tonight." Seductive bedclothes had not been a priority item for the resurrection of their affection.

Events moved rapidly. Despite Harrison's harried schedule and Carol's administrative responsibilities at the university, they found time to meet and love each other during his speaking trips to Chicago, Minneapolis, Denver and Atlanta. To avoid the remote possibility of unexpectedly running across Jeffrey or her son Aaron, Carol did not join him for his presentation in Phoenix. Harrison was of course fully aware of Mr. Greenberg's unappealing business and personal reputation, how could he not be from the frequent press reports? Carol openly described the pain of that marriage and the humiliation of Jeffrey's endless philandering. In tears, she rued her youthful weakness in being drawn to his wealth by her own immature greed for the privileges money could bring. She told him of her abiding love for David and Sarah and her despair over having lost Aaron to his father's influence. Harrison described his pride in his two adult sons, both of whom were married with small children. His eldest was a mid level State Department officer living in suburban Virginia. The younger, a Naval Academy graduate, commanded a Marine rifle company in Iraq.

Their positions had become reversed. Carol had successfully comforted Harrison's heartbreaking pain over the loss of his dearly loved Mary Beth. Now it was his turn to rescue this wonderful woman from the emotional scars of her past mistakes. Each day they grew into closer harmony. Mary Beth faded into a cherished soft memory for Harrison and Carol was born into a new life free of malignant memories. Together they closed the book of the past. The future was theirs to share.

They married exactly six months less one day after they rediscovered their love in San Francisco. All of their children save two served at their wedding in the National Cathedral in Washington. The wedding attracted considerable media attention and the cathedral's side altar room reserved for the ceremony was crowded with guests from the business, academic and government worlds. Harrison's son in Iraq was unable to secure leave for the wedding, as his unit was deeply involved in the continued fighting in and around Ramadi. In Phoenix, Carol's son Aaron petulantly refused to attend the ceremony or any of the several receptions and parties.

The forgotten man, Jeffrey Greenberg, silently scowled and pledged revenge. That woman will never escape me, he darkly promised himself.

Resigning her deanship at the university, Carol agreed to continue in a consulting capacity that would require several days each month in residence on the west coast plus her availability for long distance assistance on specific administrative issues via phone, email and fax. Harrison reduced his heavy schedule of speaking engagements for a few months to enjoy his newly married bliss but continued to be much in demand. Soon his schedule was as busy as ever but now he had a magnificent new bride to accompany him on his travels.

The two settled into Harrison's comfortable but relatively modest town home on Dumbarton Street in Washington's historic Georgetown district. Having had the good fortune to discover this delightful century-old Edwardian house with its small rear garden at an affordable price while just starting his State Department career thirty years ago, it soon blossomed with Carol's decorating touches. Neither Harrison's political prominence nor Carol's academic reputation could be denied and their evenings became full with social invitations from the leaders of Washington's liberal establishment. "Don't ever refer to them as Eastern elitists or you'll have every right wing radio kook in America crucifying us," he pleaded. None of the talk shows needed that advice and he continued to be flayed as a Marxist-Leninist blight on everything that was patriotic.

The loneliness of the past several years disappeared in a blaze of physical fascination for both of the middle-aged newlyweds. They joked over their long ago need for the sleeping bag along Cedar Creek. Carol asked if he ever used it to entertain the Wellesley girls as she had urged and he admitted to its occasional service. They experimented with a few of what Carol called New Age sexual positions that would have been outrageous in their youth before realizing such exertions should better be left to their children. Returning to somewhat more staid but totally rewarding coupling, their libidos were more than satisfied as they discovered the joy of a quiet mature passion that lasted for hours before, during and after exquisite climaxes. Never had Carol experienced the depth of loving desire that was Harrison's gift to her, certainly not with the frenetic Jeffrey Greenberg. For years, Harrison had enjoyed a similar intensity of feelings with Mary Beth but his new love was no less rewarding. Few were the nights they didn't enjoy the pleasures they freely offered each other. Carol's contentment was clearly evident to their friends in her slightly flushed complexion and sparkling clear eyes. Harrison walked with a new bounce. Always the pragmatist, he had his doctor prescribe a supply of Viagara as insurance against the fatigue of a busy day but the medication was seldom needed. They laughed over a comical TV commercial for a competitive male stimulant featuring a rather idiotic-looking "Bob" and his unmistakably well-serviced wife ... "I wonder if we look that obvious?" they asked each other.

For several months one argument, and only one, plagued them. Before their marriage, they fully disclosed their respective financial positions to each other and to their lawyers and money managers. Although Harrison's recent earning power had generated a net worth approaching two million dollars excluding the value of the Dumbarton Street house, Carol's finances dwarfed his by almost twenty-fold. Again, the shadow of Jeffrey Greenberg darkened their home as virtually every cent of her wealth came from her long-ago divorce settlement and the subsequent compounded growth of her Nova Healthcare stock. Despite his urbane sophistication, Harrison resented the source of her money and he implored her to prepare a nuptial agreement to avoid the appearance he was dependent on her wealth. In the security of her love, Carol adamantly and repeatedly refused his request despite her lawyers' advice to the contrary. Finally, a compromise of sorts was reached. Carol kept her wealth in her name and willed its inheritance to her children only while Harrison did the same with his money. As a condition for this compromise, Carol demanded the right to use her funds for a major renovation of their Georgetown home and to buy a retirement cottage on Cape Cod. Additionally, she insisted on financing at least one lavish foreign vacation trip for them each year, new cars and a few other luxuries. Grumbling that he felt like a kept man, Harrison had no real alternative but to accept her largesse. Once he joked that John Kerry must have felt the same when he took the wealthy but cheeky Teresa Heinz as his bride. One of Carol's weaknesses was that she thoroughly enjoyed entertaining and she usually paid for their frequent at-home parties in spite of his complaints. When his protests grew too vocal to ignore, she quieted them with a comforting sexual treat that turned him into a most agreeable spouse.

Carol had no desire to control her husband through money as Jeffrey had controlled her and Harrison's strength of character prevented him from becoming subservient in any way. Theirs was a marriage of love and they vowed to keep it that way forever.

Shortly after their marriage, Jeffrey Greenberg read the Ambassador's two books and occasionally watched his Sunday morning television appearances for no reason other than curiosity. Their political positions were diametrically opposite and he grew to loath Harrison's low opinion of the administration's Mideast policies as an expression of traitorous sedition against President George W. Bush and his War on Terrorism. Beyond the anathema of political thought that Ambassador Ward represented, Jeffrey's festering sexual jealousy grew over this lowborn elitist who was undoubtedly enjoying the undeniable charms of his first wife in bed. "Jesus H. Christ," he exploded to his son Aaron. "A preacher's son no less who never had a pot to piss in is wallowing in my money! And from what the papers say, that stuck-up bitch wife of his is providing a damn soft life for him with all of their parties. It's enough to make me puke. I'm sorry for you Aaron. She's your mother but she did everything she could to poison our marriage ... her, not me! Always looking down that straight Roman nose of hers at me like I was some kind of a garden slug. Forever parading her university friends and their oh-so-superior intellectualism in front of me. It was sickening. God, I should have dumped her as soon as you were born."

Aaron was not insensitive to his father's pitiful plea for sympathy. Neither was he stupid. He had long realized his parents were never well suited but he refrained from voicing his opinion. "Dad, I know your marriage was hell for you and probably for Mom as well but it's time to put it behind you." To turn his father away from his dark memories of Carol and return to the present, he continued. "Remember, you have a company to run and you need a clear head for that ... one thing that's coming up immediately is our suit against Community Health and we're both scheduled to sit for depositions next week. Let's have a father-son drink together and review again just what we're going to say." Even as he spoke, a dark premonition of events to come troubled Aaron.

Fueled by his son's less than enthusiastic support, his jealousy of Carol's new husband, her obvious contempt for him and his rage over the divorce settlement forced on him by his own folly in not having a prenup combined to drive Jeffrey into a deep funk. His current wife was in London visiting her family and later that night he started to plot in solitude. Revenge was going to be his!

The next morning in the office at his usual starting time of six thirty, Jeffrey cancelled his earliest meeting of the day and summoned his chief public relations manager for the first of what became a series of planning sessions to destroy the reputations of Ambassador and Mrs. Ward. The members of the cabal soon grew to include his top in-house counsel, the senior partner of his law firm in Phoenix and managing partner of the same firm's Washington office, the president of Nova's public relations consultants and two trusted government lobbyists. "Murder," Jeffrey announced. "We're going to kill the character of His Majesty Harrison Ward and show that patrician spouse of his to be the slut-bitch she really is!" For the first time since Carol and Harrison's marriage, Jeffrey felt energized ... he was alive!

Son Aaron sat in a few of the meetings and continued to be disturbed by the depth of his father's hatred and how far he was apparently willing to go to smear his mother and her new husband. I hope Dad can control this rage that's consuming him, he worried. I've never seen him this angry before and it's not healthy for him or me or the company. He's becoming obsessed and this whole ugly business is starting to take on a life of its own that can bring a lot of people down. Despite his increasing anxiety, Aaron remained silent and did nothing to deflect the course of action that Jeffrey had set in motion.

An early decision of the plotters was to retain the services of The Gunderson Group, a shadowy investigative firm with global connections. Gunderson's charter was simple: track every day of Harrison Ward's life and find some personal misstep that could be used to stain his character. Then do the same thing for his wife from the moment of her divorce to yesterday ... "No, goddamn it! Not just through yesterday. Include today too," Jeffrey screamed!

Little personal dirt could be discovered about the Ambassador. The best Gunderson could uncover were fifteen-year-old rumors of an unproven dalliance with the wife of a senior Syrian diplomat while Harrison was posted to the Embassy in Damascus. Unfortunately, the woman had died from quite natural causes four years later, leaving a distraught husband and two teenage children. "I don't give a shit if she's living or dead," Jeffrey exploded. "Invent an affair between them if you have to... just make it look so goddamn blatant that it endangered U.S. relations with Syria. And get moving on the financial angle. If you can't find some example of money laundering, invent something there too ... come on, use your imagination. What the hell do you think I'm paying you for? I said murder and that's exactly what I meant ... I'm going to kill that SOB's reputation and his wife's too!"

Through a few quiet words to selected members of the right wing media, the rumors of the old Damascus romance were floated. The few press comments that resulted in Rupert Murdock's newspapers were quickly refuted by the respected past Ambassador to Syria, now retired. The mainstream broadcast and print media ignored the rumors and no one of consequence paid attention to this out-of-date information, true or not. Even Ralph Reed, former leader of the Christian Coalition, and America's moralizing icon Bill Bennett scoffed. "You're kidding, a fifteen-year-old sex scandal? Give me a break, that's yesterday's news. Wake up pal, this is Washington and who here isn't hiding something?" Pat Robertson made a disparaging comment on his700 Clubtelevision show but wisely refrained from continuing when his political advisors said it might backfire against his defense of Tom DeLay and that discredited Congressman's ties to Jack Abramoff. Still, Harrison had a gnawing blip of concern over the source of the rumors. "Why are those old lies surfacing now?" he wondered. "And who's spreading them?" He of course kept silent on the subject in his public life. Carol accepted his private denial without question.

The money laundering charges were another matter. At times in his career, Harrison had indeed been involved when significant sums were secretly passed to corrupt Mideast officials to influence their governments' policy decisions. His integrity in those dealings was beyond question, but unscrupulous writers could cleverly twist the very fact of their existence to his disadvantage and Jeffrey Greenberg's operatives were not known for their scruples. The gossip became ugly and Harrison retained Pricewaterhouse Coopers to conduct a private audit of the amount, composition and source of his personal finances in case such evidence might prove necessary.

During the growing maelstrom of negative publicity, Carol provided the emotional support her husband so richly deserved. Together they pondered the reasons he was being so fiercely attacked and who might be abetting the smears. The answer started to emerge when the front cover of one of the leading supermarket tabloids suddenly screamed, "DIPLOMAT'S WIFE FROLICS WITH BOY TOYS! Details on page 17."

Jeffrey had hit pay dirt!

The discovery of the story was a once-in-a-lifetime fluke. In following Carol's path since her divorce, one of Gunderson's several investigators happened to be in Los Angeles on a lead and struck up an innocent conversation one evening with the dark haired young man sitting next to him in a popular bar. The man happened to be Giancomo Pazzini, a twenty-nine-year-old Italian economics professor from Bocconi University in Milan who was in the States on a two-year teacher exchange program at USC's Marshall School of Business. As the discussion expanded, the handsome bachelor mentioned that he occasionally moonlighted for an upscale Los Angeles escort service to supplement his modest academic stipend. Smiling conspiratorially to his new friend, he alluded that he specialized in providing comforting companionship to ladies of means. Warming to this interesting conversation, the Gunderson operative discovered that most of the service's clients were women ofl'age certainthat lusted for the attentions of younger men with superior physical abilities and endurance. In particular, demand was high for young men from Europe such as himself to satisfy the romantic fantasies of many of the firm's customers. With a touch of machismo, Professiore Pazzini went on to describe several of his personal experiences with the neglected wives of prominent business and community leaders. "I even had the pleasure of serving a university dean once and I must say it was pleasant to be with another academician for a change  ... a women dean of students, no less." Asking which university that might be, the Gunderson employee was speechless when Carol's school was named!