“I’ll take care of that for you myself,” Baker said.
[TWO]
It had taken a long time for Cynthia to go to sleep, and she had gone to sleep angry.
And she had awakened still angry, and had grown angrier with the realization that there was not going to be time to pack and dress and eat breakfast, too, and that she was just going to have to miss breakfast.
There was a small silver lining to the black cloud, she thought. It would be the first time that Greg had seen her dressed up in anything fancier than a skirt and a sweater, or wearing any makeup except a faint touch of lipstick. She had a moment to enjoy that before thinking that it probably would be better if he didn’t get to see her that way. It would fuel what she suspected he felt for her.
When she carried her luggage downstairs, he was in the entrance foyer. It was the first time she had seen him dressed up, too. He was in his pink-and green lieutenant’s uniform, wearing his new silver parachutist’s wings.
He smiled when he saw her.
“Baker said you would be going to Washington,” he said.
“He didn’t say why, and he didn’t tell me how pretty you are in your civilian clothing.”
“Good morning, Greg,” she said.
She wondered what his destination was, and when they had passed the checkpoint, she asked him.
“I don’t know,” he said.
Cynthia leaned forward and asked the driver, “Where are you taking Lieutenant Hammersmith?”
“The house on Q Street,” the driver replied.
“He’s to see Chief Ellis.”
“What’s the ‘house on Q Street’?” Greg Hammersmith asked.
“It’s a mansion near Rock Creek Park,” she said.
“We use it as both a safe house and sort of a hotel for transients.”
“You’ve been there before, I gather.”
“I used to run it,” she said.
“And am I permitted to ask where you’re going?” he asked.
“I’m going there too,” she said.
“And am I permitted to ask why?”
“No,” she said.
“I’m sorry.”
“Then, in the short time remaining to us, Miss Chenowith–” he began.
“Don’t, Greg,” she said.
“Please don’t–” “What I was going to say, you have apparently figured out all by yourself,” he said.
She looked at him and met his eyes, then averted her eyes and avoided looking at him on the rest of the way to Washington.
When she walked into the kitchen, she asked the cook if Chief Ellis was around.
“In the dining room with Captain Whittaker,” the cook replied.
“Come on, Greg,” Cynthia said, aware that her temper was up and not caring.
Captain Whittaker and Chief Ellis were eating either a late breakfast or an early lunch. They were having eggs with their steaks, she saw, so it had to be breakfast.
“I think you know Miss Chenowith, Chief,” Whittaker said when he saw her.
“Otherwise known as “Superwoman.” And I don’t know the name of the gentleman with her, but he is the one who almost came to her aid when I publicly humiliated her.”
“Damn you!” Cynthia flared.
“My name is Hammersmith,” Greg said coldly.
‘”My name is Hammersmith, Sir,”” Whittaker said.
“We try very hard to observe the military amenities around here, don’t we. Chief?”
“Yes, Sir,” Ellis said.
“That we do, Sir.”
“Sit down, Cynthia,” Whittaker said.
“Take a load off. Have a bite to eat. We have several hours to kill.”
Glowering at him, she walked to the head of the table and stabbed the call button on the floor with her toe.
“For a moment, there, I thought she was going to slug me with her purse,” Whittaker said.
“Didn’t it look that way to you?”
“You sonofabitch,” Cynthia said.
“Nice to see you, too. Miss Chenowith,” Whittaker said.
The cook appeared.
“I’d like some breakfast,” Cynthia said.
“Greg, are you hungry?”
“I missed breakfast,” he said.
“Bring us, please, the same thing they had,” Cynthia said.
“You may sit down, Lieutenant,” Whittaker said.
Lieutenant Hammersmith didn’t move.
“I’ll rephrase,” Whittaker said.
“Sit down, Lieutenant.”
“Damn you, play your games with me, but leave Greg alone.”
“”Greg’?” Whittaker parroted mockingly.
“Wonderwoman to the rescue of “Greg’?”