Scent Of Roses. Kat Martin

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ led her into one of two front parlors, where a bar had been set up. A member of the catering staff, a young man in black slacks and a starched white shirt, poured her a glass of chilled champagne, Schramsberg, a brand she recognized as coming from the Napa Valley, a fairly expensive California label.

      They talked as Carson gave her a tour of the downstairs portion of the house, including his modernized kitchen where the catering staff was hard at work, then on to his wood-paneled study. By the time they returned to the parlor, a long black stretch limousine was pulling up in front of the house.

      “Looks like they’re here. Three of the couples flew in on a twin-engine Queen Aire. I hired a limo from Newhall to collect them. Another is bringing the Castenados up from L.A.”

      “I gather you have an airstrip here on the ranch.”

      He nodded. “It isn’t big enough to handle a private jet, but it serves most other small planes very well.”

      “Do you fly yourself?”

      “I thought about taking lessons, but I really don’t have time.”

      They walked toward the foyer and Carson pulled open the leaded glass door, inviting his guests inside. The fourth couple arrived within minutes of the other three, the group varying in ages from thirty-five to sixty. Introductions were made all around, then Carson led his guests into the bar and drinks were served.

      Elizabeth was glad she had worn the black dress. The other four women had on equally expensive outfits, two wore sequin-trimmed pants suits, one a knee-length, ivory dinner suit, another a simple black sheath similar to the one she had on.

      They talked for a while, then Carson rested a proprietary hand on her shoulder. “If you ladies don’t mind, there are a couple of items of business that need to be discussed before we go in to supper. It shouldn’t take all that long.”

      He didn’t wait for their approval, just turned and started walking, all four males in the group following him down the hall toward the study.

      Elizabeth turned to the ladies, taking over the role of hostess. “Is this the first time you’ve been to San Pico?”

      “None of us have ever been here,” said one woman in a dinner suit, Maryann Hobson, who was married to a real estate developer in Orange County. “Though, of course, we’ve known Carson for quite some time.”

      “His home is lovely,” one of the other women said, Mildred Castenado, a tall, statuesque Hispanic woman whose dark eyes seemed to take in every detail.

      “Yes, it certainly is,” Rebecca Meyers agreed. Her husband was the CEO of a big pharmaceuticals company and Becky, as she had asked to be called, seemed a bright intelligent woman. “I particularly like what they’ve done with the molded ceilings.” Painting the walls a creamy beige and the moldings very white.

      “Have you known Carson long?” the fourth woman asked, silver-gray hair, thin lips and tight lines around her mouth. She was the eldest of the women, Betty Simino, wife of the senior member of the group.

      “We’ve been acquainted for several years,” Elizabeth said, not liking the assessing look in the woman’s pale blue eyes. “This is the first time I’ve been to his home. I agree with Mildred. The house is quite lovely.”

      “Carson used the designer I recommended,” Mildred said proudly. “Anthony Bass. I think he did a marvelous job.”

      “Yes, he did.”

      The conversation went on in that vein, light, mostly pleasant, with only an occasional foray by Mrs. Simino into the nature of Elizabeth’s relationship with Carson, which, of course, didn’t actually exist.

      Elizabeth found herself glancing toward the study door, wondering when Carson would return. Praying it wouldn’t be much longer.

      

      Carson surveyed the men seated on the comfortable leather furniture in his study.

      The leader, Walter Simino, Assistant Chairman of the California State Republican Party, set his Waterford tumbler of scotch down on the coffee table in front of the sofa.

      “You know why we’re here, Carson. The women are waiting and we’ve got supper ahead of us. I don’t see any reason to pussyfoot around. We came here for one reason—to convince you to run for state assembly.”

      They had discussed the possibility at length, of course, and he had given the matter plenty of thought.

      Carson leaned forward in his chair, his gaze going to each man in the group. “I’m extremely flattered. You all know that. But going into politics isn’t a step to be taken lightly. It takes years of commitment, years of struggle and hardship.”

      “That’s right, it does.” This from Ted Meyers, CEO of McMillan Pharmaceutical Labs, a tall man with thinning brown hair. “But what we’ve got in mind would be worth the hard work and it might not take as long as you think.”

      “We’re talking about more than just the assembly, Carson.” Walter looked him straight in the face. “A man like you, with your reputation, you could win the assembly seat and in the next election, run for state senate. From there, with the right backing, you could make a run for a seat in Congress. You’re the right age, Harcourt, only thirty-six years old. You’ve got the looks and the charisma, your background seems to be clean as a whistle, and you’ve got the kind of connections that can take a man all the way to the top.”

      He’d been thinking that same thing. He had connections that went back as far as his fraternity brothers at the USC. With the right moves, the right people behind him…A vision of the White House popped into his head, but he quickly shoved it away. It was way too soon to be thinking like that. Still, as Walter had said, there was no limit to how far he might go.

      “There’s just one thing.” Paul Castenado looked a little uneasy and Carson knew exactly his concern—the nemesis who had plagued him since he was a boy.

      “My brother.”

      “That’s right. We need Zachary on our team. It’s no secret there’s bad blood between you two. It wouldn’t look good if your brother opposed your bid for office.”

      Carson worked to keep his voice even. “I can’t guarantee what Zach will do. He’s a wild card. He always has been.”

      “Maybe,” Walter said. “Then again, maybe with the right motivation, we can convince him to our way of thinking. That’s the reason I asked you to invite him here tonight.”

      And amazingly, Zach had agreed. Carson didn’t like it. Not one bit. But the fact remained, the men were right. It didn’t look good for a member of a candidate’s family to oppose his bid for office. Even if he and Zach were only half brothers.

      While the others waited, Ted Meyers disappeared out the door and a few minutes later, Zach walked into the study. Meyers closed the door behind them.

      Walter pointed to an empty seat, but Zach sat down in a chair closer to the door.

      “I’m here as requested,” Zach said. “What can I do for you, gentlemen?” His brother’s deep voice held the slightly mocking tone Carson had always despised.

      “Thanks СКАЧАТЬ