She was half done with this when the phone rang. A hearty voice at the other end of the line inquired for Alan. Recognizing the voice, she asked pleasantly, “Is that you, Mayor Devlin?”
“Who else?” the Mayor said breezily. “How is my favorite girl today? When are you going to give up slaving for Alan and come work for me?”
She laughed. “I feel so secure here. You might not get elected next time. Then what would happen to me?”
“Smart girl,” the Mayor agreed. “I may not even offer next time.” He was one of Judith’s favorite persons: a brash, middle-aged sports announcer with the local television station, who had made a host of friends with his nightly telecasts. When he had run for councilman as an amusing experience, he’d done so well he’d been persuaded to run for Mayor in the next election. His down-to-earth personality and innate honesty had won him the chief office in Port City.
“Is there any special message for Mr. Fraser?” she asked.
Mayor Jim Devlin chuckled. “Well, now, that’s what I call a formal question!”
“He should be in at five,” she said politely.
“No good for me; I’ve got a meeting to attend,” the Mayor said. “But you can give him a message from me. And have him call me back here in the morning.”
“Of course,” she said.
“Tell him I think something’s brewing,” the Mayor went on. “Senator Lafferty and a committee from the North End Real Estate Owners Association have asked to be allowed to present a petition at the city council meeting tomorrow night.”
“I see,” she said, writing it down. “I understand the Senator has been out to look at the bridge several times recently.”
“Doesn’t surprise me,” the Mayor said. “I don’t know what it’s all about, but I’d be willing to bet it’s something unpleasant. This group have hired Lafferty as their legal representative. But I wouldn’t be startled to find out that the bills went to S.C. North eventually.”
Judith’s voice expressed concern as she spoke into the phone. “You don’t think he’s still trying to do something to stop the bridge?”
“I don’t see how that’s possible,” the Mayor said, “not with the State and Federal governments having money in it, as well as the city. But he’s a big man and might be interested in trying something. Tell Alan what’s going on and have him phone me after nine in the morning.”
“I will,” Judith promised. “Thanks for calling.”
“A pleasure,” the Mayor told her in his best breezy sports announcer fashion. “It gives me a chance to talk to you.” And he hung up on this happy note.
CHAPTER TWO
Judith worked on, and by the time Alan arrived back in the office at a few minutes before five she was typing the last of the letters he had left with her. She saw at a glance that his interview with Harvey Wheaton must have been a trying one. He looked weary.
Pausing before her desk, he asked, “What’s been going on?”
“I’ve finished all your letters,” Judith said. “And there was a phone call from Mayor Devlin.”
Alan’s thin face became grave. “What did he want?”
“He says Senator Lafferty is appearing before the City Council tomorrow night with representatives from the North End Real Estate Owners Association. He doesn’t know what it’s all about but thought you should be told. And he wants you to ring him in the morning, as soon after nine as you can.”
The young lawyer offered her a tired smile. “Well, that fits in with Lafferty’s being over to look at the bridge. He’s got something on the frying pan, and no doubt the flame is being supplied by S.C. North.”
Judith returned his smile. “It sounds as if they haven’t given up their wrangling about the bridge yet. What’s the matter with North? Is he so big he can’t tolerate the idea of a fair defeat?”
“It’s the loss of the steel contract that really made him livid,” Alan said. “And I have an idea he’s delighted to know we’re hung up for steel now.”
“How did you manage with Harvey Wheaton?”
Alan Fraser shrugged. “He put a long distance call through to the factory while I was there. They’ve been having some union troubles, but the shipment is on its way here.”
“Then it may come in time to avoid a stoppage on the job,” she said hopefully.
“There’s a bare chance of it,” he agreed. “But I don’t count on any of their promises any more.” He started for his office. “Bring the letters in and I’ll sign them.”
Judith gathered up the various letters and took them into the larger office occupied by Alan. Two of its walls were lined with law books. On the wall opposite his desk were his framed diploma, a large photo of himself along with other members of the Dartmouth track team, and several old English prints. Behind the large desk at which he was seated two tall old-fashioned windows looked out on King Street and the front of the North Building.
As Judith stood waiting, he carelessly glanced over the letters and affixed his signature to each of them. Then, gathering them, he passed them back to her.
Before she could leave he said, “I’d like to send a long letter to Wheaton’s head office, trying to make clear our situation here and explain why any further delays in shipments could spell important trouble for us. Would you mind staying until six to get it done?”
Judith shook her head. “No. I’d be glad to stay.”
Alan offered her a grateful smile. “Then that’s what we’ll do. I’ll try to figure out a rough draft first. And then when we’re finished we can go across to the Harbor Restaurant for dinner. My bonus to you for overtime.”
She laughed lightly. “No bonus is required.”
“I’d like to do it,” he insisted. “Phone your mother and tell her you won’t be home until after dinner and not to wait for you.”
Judith hesitated. “I’m afraid any variation in the routine upsets her,” she said. “Perhaps I should go home as soon as we’ve finished.”
“Nonsense!” he said. “You should get out for dinner once in a while. This gives me a chance to treat you on my expense account. Go ahead; call her!”
Judith said, “I’ll call and see if she’s gone to any special trouble for dinner. If not, I’ll stay in the city with you.”
“That’s more like it,” Alan said approvingly.
Before Judith could leave the inner office, the door to the suite opened and Brandon Fraser came in. Alan’s father was a tall, elegant man with iron-gray hair and the finely chiseled features of a patrician.
Advancing to the doorway of Alan’s office, he gave Judith a nod and then focused his attention on his son. His dark soft hat and neat blue suit were in keeping with his dignified figure, and he carried a trench coat over his arm.
“I’m stopping by the Federal Club for a drink,” he said in his voice of quiet authority. “Are you planning to visit there, or are you going straight home?”
Alan was on his feet. “I don’t think I’ll bother with the Club tonight, Dad. I have an important letter to get out.”
His father’s eyebrows raised ever so slightly. “You’ll be working late, then?”
“Yes. And I’ll be having dinner across the street.”
“I see,” the older man said. His shrewd eyes gave Alan a piercing glance. “You’re not in any sort of trouble with the bridge?”
“Just the regular day to day problems,” Alan said.
“Oh!” His father hesitated in the doorway, not seeming quite convinced by Alan’s answer. “Things are going ahead as you hoped, then?”
“I’d say so,” was Alan’s cool reply.
“Good,” Brandon Fraser said. “Today marked the halfway point in getting the steel spans across the harbor, as I understand it?”
“We’re halfway there,” Alan agreed with a faint smile, “in spite of S.C. North.”
His father frowned. “I think you should avoid thinking of this as a personal feud between you and S.C. North. I’m certain he doesn’t consider it
that.”
Alan smiled sourly. “I fully agree. He sees me in conflict with his hired hands, such as Senator Lafferty.”
Brandon Fraser’s displeasure increased on hearing this remark. “I don’t think you should be flippant about this business. Your appointment as chairman of the bridge authority is the most important one you’ve ever held. It is vital to your future that you make a success of it. And to do that you must weld the various fractions in the community into a harmonious team determined to make the project a success. And you can’t hope for a successful completion without the backing of S.C. North and his interests.”
“So it seems,” Alan said quietly.
“It’s your problem, of course,” his father said in a grumpy voice, and looked down. “I’ll let your mother know you won’t be home until later.” He gave Judith another brief nod, then turned and walked slowly out, closing the door to the corridor after him.
Alan gave her a rueful smile. “You have just heard me being put nicely in my place. You put those letters in envelopes ready to mail while I’m working on the draft of the one to the steel factory.”
Judith went back to her own office, feeling sorry for the young man. It was not the first time she’d heard his father rebuke him, and she was certain it wouldn’t be the last. There was a strange relationship between Alan Fraser and his father. It dated back to the death of Alan’s older brother, Brian, a few years earlier. Brian had been his father’s favorite, and Brandon Fraser had been shattered when Brian was killed by a stray bullet in a hunting mishap.
With a sigh she placed the last of the letters in its envelope and prepared to return to the inner office and take down the message Alan was preparing for the steel company. Before joining him again, she quickly dialed her home phone number and spoke with her mother for a few minutes. At first Millicent seemed peevish at the idea of her remaining in the city for dinner, but she did admit there had been no special meal prepared, and when she found Judith was planning to dine with Alan Fraser she dropped all her objections, merely plaintively requesting that her daughter not be too late returning. Judith wearily promised she wouldn’t be and hung up.
Alan was absorbed in his task of preparing the letter when she went in. He gave her a brief glance. “This is not coming easily,” he said. “I want to be sure to get the main points over strongly.” And he nodded for her to sit and wait until he was ready to dictate.
It was nearly six-thirty when she finished typing the completed letter. By that time Alan was standing waiting for her. He smiled as she addressed the envelope.
“We’ll want it to go special delivery,” he said. “Probably won’t get there any quicker, but at least they’ll know we wanted them to get it in a hurry.” He paused. “Hungry?”
“Starving,” she admitted as she sealed the letter in its long envelope and got up to get her coat and join him.
“I’ll go ahead,” he volunteered, “and while I’m mailing these, you can freshen up for dinner.”
Judith smiled. “Thanks,” she said. “That would help. I feel a wreck after being here all day. I’m not sure this suit is right for the Harbor Room.”
“You look great,” he said gallantly. “Don’t worry about it.”
A brief stop in the washroom and fresh make-up gave her some confidence. The suit was neatly tailored and did fit her well. She met him in the downstairs lobby with a smile.
Alan said, “I’m looking forward to dinner. One of S.C. North’s few projects of which I approve is the Harbor Room. It offers a decent meal, and the view is superb.”
She laughed. “I doubt that he enjoys it any more now that the bridge is going up.”
“You may have a point there,” he agreed as he held the door open for her to go out into the street.
They waited for the lights to change and then hurried across to the tall, recently constructed North Building. One of the express elevators serving the penthouse restaurant opened its doors, and they stepped inside to be whisked to the top.
The headwaiter greeted them as soon as they left the elevator for the carpeted, glass-walled luxury of the Harbor Room. The big roof-top restaurant was doing a brisk business, but because of its unusually spacious design and carefully spaced tables it had an air of quiet decorum. They were seated at one of the round, white-clothed tables near the outside glass wall, with a commanding view of the harbor and the rapidly rising bridge. The headwaiter made a smiling comment and then left them with over-size menus to select their choice of dinners.
They decided on lobster dinners, since the Harbor Room was noted for its sea food. Their dinners ordered, they sat back to talk and relax as the day drew to an end.
Alan’s thin young face was more serious than usual. “I had the idea Harvey Wheaton might have heard something when I talked to him today,” he said. “And the Mayor certainly had news. Also, I’m not altogether sure but that Dad has heard some rumors there is trouble in the offing.”
“You really feel that?”
“I’m afraid so,” he said. “Perhaps after I talk with the Mayor in the morning I should phone the Governor in Concord and see if any of the gossip has reached his august ears.”
Judith pictured the granite-faced, middle-aged man who headed the state and whose irascible temper and urgent desire not to be bothered by civic feuds were legendary. She said, “It’s not likely he’ll want to hear anything about it.”
“But extremely likely that he has, if Senator Lafferty is mixed up in what’s happening. When Lafferty was a Senator, he and the Governor served the same party side by side, and they’re close personal friends.”
“I suppose that’s what makes Lafferty so useful to S.C. North,” Judith suggested with some bitterness.
“That’s easy to figure,” he agreed. “I won’t bother Governor Thorne unless I feel I have to. But he does have a big stake in the bridge. The state has more cash behind the project than the city; the federal government is merely backing the state’s borrowing for the project. So in the end it is the Governor who is chiefly responsible.”
“I see what you mean,” she said.
“Technically, the bridge authority has the full say now,” Alan went on. “And as chairman, I should be the ruler of the roost. But it doesn’t work out quite that simply. We still have to deal with politicians and politics all the way until the last bolt is fixed in place.”
Judith gave him an understanding look. “I think that is what worries your father. He knows what a hard position you’re in.”
Alan looked amused. “What worries my father is his complete lack of confidence in me!”
“Is that really true?”
“I think so.”
“And I doubt it. He worries about you. But I’m sure he’s secretly proud of what you’ve done so far.”
“The only person he was ever truly proud of was Brian,” the young man opposite her said bitterly. “You must know that! You grew up with us. It was always Brian who was the favorite.”
Judith tried to placate him, saying, “But isn’t it true the older son is usually the favorite?”
“Not necessarily,” Alan said stubbornly. “Everything that Brian did was right, and almost everything I tried was wrong. Father’s been stupidly one-sided in his attitude.”
“You’re winning him over,” she assured him.
Alan glanced out at the harbor and the partially finished bridge; the gray light of a gathering dusk served as a background for the horizon of the old city. “I wonder,” he mused. “Perhaps if I work a miracle and the bridge finally becomes a reality.” He glanced across at her. “You can’t have any idea how many times the bridge has been proposed and the project abandoned because of petty greed and jealousies. Now North wants to start trouble again!”
“But you’ve gone so far with it!”
“Don’t fool yourself that means it will be completed,” Alan warned her. “Nothing would please North and his cronies better than to see it abandoned and the girders rusting without ever ha
ving carried a traffic load.”
She smiled confidently. “They won’t stop you now!”
“Well, at least that’s a nice note to begin dinner with,” he observed with a smile as the waiter came up to their table with his loaded serving tray. The food was delicious, and for some time they gave their attention to it. When they picked up the conversation again, it turned to more personal matters.
Alan touched a napkin to his mouth. “We should do this more often,” he said. “After all, we are old friends, and we have hardly any chance really to talk at the office.”
Judith tilted her head slightly in a demure smile. “Do you think Pauline would approve?”
At the mention of the striking blonde divorcee to whom Alan had become engaged, he looked embarrassed. He said, “I don’t see why she should object. After all, she has her own friends. I’m sure when she goes to New York on buying trips, such as the one she’s on now, she must meet many of her old friends.”
“And you wouldn’t object to her having dinner with any of the male ones?”
He shrugged. “She dines with her ex-husband occasionally.”
“That’s different,” she said. “You know there is no romantic interest there any longer. I mean other male friends she knew before coming back here.”
Alan leaned forward in his chair earnestly. “Look, one bad marriage has taught Pauline at least a single truth. If there isn’t trust between two people, there’s nothing. We’re not narrow in our outlooks. I expect her to continue having her friends, and I’ll have mine.”
“I know Pauline is very modern in her ideas as well as her artistic tastes.” Judith smiled. “I only hope they both turn out to be sound.”
“She’s doing great with her gallery. Her father financed it, never expecting to get a penny back, and she’s been making a nice profit.”
“I know,” Judith admitted. “Pauline is a wonder.”
He smiled. “She is. And she’s determined not to make the same errors she made in her first marriage.”
Vintage Love Page 199