Part 34 (1/2)

Charlotte held out her hand to him. ”Please, will you let me try to convince you?”

He looked at her fingers, saw her tears, but didn't reach to take her hand. His face was so serious. ”Will you marry me after, even when I tell you that I still have to leave?”

She couldn't deceive him and she let her hand drop to the blanket below. ”No.”

Vince nodded. ”Do you ...” He cleared his throat. ”Do you honestly love me, Charlie?”

She didn't want to answer that, but her silence was just as revealing.

”Ah,” he said.

”I don't want you to die,” she told him.

”That's what this is really about, isn't it?” he asked. He laughed softly. ”Wow. You really don't want me to die, huh? My G.o.d.”

”Is that so awful?” she said. ”I care about you, Vince, I doa””

”But you still love James.”

She couldn't deny that.

”And yet you're willing to ... to give yourself to me as some kind of prize. Some kind of virgin sacrifice. You're the sacrifice and I'm the virgina”that's a nice twist, huh? But I'm supposed to be so grateful to you and so enthralled that I simply throw away everything I believe in because making love to you is so great?”

”You're twisting it all around.”

”Am I?” he asked.

She climbed out of bed, wanting him to understand. ”You don't know what it was like, waiting for news after Pearl Harbor was attacked. I can't do that again. I can't spend the next five years or however long this awful war lasts terrified that I'm going to get another of those telegrams. And I am not going to bury another husband.”

”You're not going to have another husband,” he told her, quiet again, ”until you manage to bury your first. G.o.d, you're beautiful, but I want more than your body, Charlotte.” He turned away from her. ”I think you better go.”

She went.

Back to her room where, knowing how thin the walls in this house were, she cried as quietly as she could.

”So you're my consolation prize.”

Brooke Bryant was more than just a little bit drunk. Joan could see it in her eyes and in the looseness of her movements as she held out her hand to Muldoon in greeting.

Muldoon glanced at Joan before he answered Brooke. ”Yes, ma'am. That seems to be what I am.”

”You're a little young,” Brooke said.

The staff from the White House had discussed the Brooke-Muldoon age difference for several hours. Considering the alternatives, it was decided that it would be addressed in their press releases. They would call Brooke ”young at heart,” and Muldoon would be a ”mature young officer accustomed to a great deal of responsibility.” Whatever they did, though, the fifteen-year difference would be noticed and commented on. On late-night TY Brooke would probably be the b.u.t.t of more than one cradle-robbing joke because of it. But the positive press far outweighed the negative in this case.

”Although someone with all those medals on his chest can't be too young, can he?” Brooke continued. ”So sure, why the h.e.l.l not?”

”My thoughts exactly,” Muldoon said, again with another look in Joan's direction. When he looked back at Brooke, he bestowed his best smile upon her. It wasn't as good as his genuine one, but it was pretty d.a.m.n close. ”You look beautiful tonight, ma'am.”

Her gown was a deep shade of red that few women could wear. Brooke managed, as she always did, to look amazing. The gown was low cut and it seemed to be held on by a single tied bow in the back. When Joan first saw what Brooke was wearing, she'd started praying that the bow didn't accidentally come undone while she was greeting Admirals Tucker and Crowley.

There was a picture she didn't want on page one of USA Today.

”Thank you, darling,” Brooke said. ”So do you. Although, if we're going to fool anyone into thinking we've been f.u.c.king for weeks now, you might want to call me something other than ma 'am. Unless we want the press to speculate on the intimate details of our so-called relations.h.i.+p. Of course, maybe we should drop them a few hints.” She turned to look for d.i.c.k. ”What do you think, d.i.c.k? How about if Lieutenant Muldoon mentions to the press that I'm particularly good at giving head? Because surely the idea of me going down on a hero would boost my father's popularity rating.”

Okay.

Myra and d.i.c.k pulled Brooke aside, as Joan took Muldoon's arm and dragged him offa few feet.

”I'm so sorry,” she said. ”She's not usually like this. She's drunk.”

”She's p.i.s.sed at being manipulated. I can relate.”

”Will you do me a favor? When you get downstairs, try to keep her from having another drink.”

Muldoon laughed. ”She's a grown-up. I can't make her do anything she doesn't want to doa”including not drink.”

”You can steer her away from the bar,” Joan said. ”Please?”

He didn't answer right away. He just stood there looking at her. ”I don't think I owe you any favors right now,” he finally said.

Oh, G.o.d. Joan closed her eyes briefly. She felt terrible. ”I've apologized, Michael. I've tried to explain that I didn't mean for any of this to happena””

”Except for the part where I escort Brooke to this party,” he interrupted. ”That was your idea, thanks so much.”

”One you didn't seem to mind,” she countered sharply. ”Especially when you called me up and asked for advice on how to make sure Brooke went home with you tonight, because you thought she was so hot...” Because of her email. Which Joan had written. Which Muldoon had known that Joan had written, which really meant... that he'd thought Joan was hot?

She looked up at Muldoon and saw him watching her, waiting for her to figure it out.

”You lied to me, too,” she said. It was not what she should have said, but unfortunately it was the first thing to fly out of her big mouth.

”No,” he said. ”Not really. I was just being stupid. I got it into my head that maybe you'd get jealous or, shoot, I don't know. Notice me at least. I was going to come back here and lay it on the linea”tell you I'm crazy about you. Make it clear that I don't think of you as any kind of a sister.” He laughed. ”Yeah, I had it all figured out. I was going to tell you that I think you're a G.o.ddess and that I'd love to be your personal slave. That was how you put it, wasn't it? Except now that I've been handed off to Brooke as a consolation prize without a single word of protest from you, I'm not sure that I think so highly of you anymore.”

Joan didn't know what to say. She didn't know what to think. She could barely even breathe. She'd received plenty of criticism and her fair share of reprimands throughout her life, but nothing had ever stabbed as deeply as Muldoon's quiet words.

And to have it come on top of the news that he was crazy about her... ?

”I'm good at carrying out orders,” he continued. ”Apparently tonight's involve making the world believe Brooke and I have a relations.h.i.+p. Okay. You got it. Can do. And who knows? Maybe by tomorrow morning, it'll be true. It can be a night of consolation prizes all around. Except for you. You get to win big, right?”

Brooke was done being lectured by Myra and d.i.c.k, and there was no time for Joan to defend herself or reb.u.t.t or even say anything to Muldoon at all.

”I've been ordered to muzzle it,” Brooke said as she took his arm. ”Under pain of death, I suppose. Shall we face the gauntlet with our heads held high?”

”Brooke,” Joan said. ”Lieutenant Muldoon is not your consolation prize. He's not any kind of a prize. He's a... a friend of mine, and I'd appreciate it if you treated him with respect.”

”Don't worry, darling,” Brooke called over her shoulder. Muldoon didn't even glance back. ”I'll take very good care of him.”