The Best Laid Plans

Chapter 6

Oliver's days were full, and he loved every minute of what he was doing. There were political appointments to be made, legislation to be put forward, appropriations to be approved, meetings and speeches and press interviews. The State Journal in Frankfort, the Herald-Leader in Lexington, and the Louisville Courier-Journal gave him glowing reports. He was earning the reputation of being a governor who got things done. Oliver was swept up in the social life of the superwealthy, and he knew that a large part of that was because he was married to the daughter of Senator Todd Davis.

Oliver enjoyed living in Frankfort. It was a lovely, historic city nestled in a scenic river valley among the rolling hills of Kentucky's fabled bluegrass region. He wondered what it would be like to live in Washington, D.C.

The busy days merged into weeks, and the weeks merged into months. Oliver began the last year of his term.

Oliver had made Peter Tager his press secretary. He was the perfect choice. Tager was always forth-right with the press, and because of the decent, old-fashioned values he stood for and liked to talk about, he gave the party substance and dignity. Peter Tager and his black eye patch became almost as well recognized as Oliver.

Todd Davis made it a point to fly down to Frankfort to see Oliver at least once a month.

He said to Peter Tager, "When you've got a Thoroughbred running, you have to keep an eye on him to make sure he doesn't lose his timing."

On a chilly evening in October, Oliver and Senator Davis were seated in Oliver's study. The two men and Jan had gone out to dinner at Gabriel's and had returned to the Executive Mansion. Jan had left the men to talk.

"Jan seems very happy, Oliver. I'm pleased."

"I try to make her happy, Todd."

Senator Davis looked at Oliver and wondered how often he used the apartment. "She loves you a lot, son."

"And I love her." Oliver sounded very sincere.

Senator Davis smiled. "I'm glad to hear that. She's already redecorating the White House."

Oliver's heart skipped a beat. "I beg your pardon?"

"Oh, didn't I tell you? It's begun. Your name's becoming a byword in Washington. We're going to begin our campaign the first of the year."

Oliver was almost afraid to ask the next question. "Do you honestly think I have a chance, Todd?"

"The word 'chance' implies a gamble, and I don't gamble, son. I won't get involved in anything unless I know it's a sure thing."

Oliver took a deep breath. "You can be the most important man in the world." "I want you to know how very much I appreciate everything you've done for me, Todd."

Todd patted Oliver's arm. "It's a man's duty to help his son-in-law, isn't it?"

The emphasis on "son-in-law" was not lost on Oliver.

The senator said casually, "By the way, Oliver, I was very disappointed that your legislature passed that tobacco tax bill."

"That money will take care of the shortfall in our fiscal budget, and - "

"But of course you're going to veto it."

Oliver stared at him. "Veto it?"

The senator gave him a small smile. "Oliver, I want you to know that I'm not thinking about myself. But I have a lot of friends who invested their hard-earned money in tobacco plantations, and I wouldn't want to see them get hurt by oppressive new taxes, would you?"

There was a silence.

"Would you, Oliver?"

"No," Oliver finally said. "I guess it wouldn't be fair."

"I appreciate that. I really do."

Oliver said, "I had heard that you'd sold your tobacco plantations, Todd."

Todd Davis looked at him, surprised. "Why would I want to do that?"

"Well, the tobacco companies are taking a beating in the courts. Sales are way down, and - "

"You're talking about the United States, son. There's a great big world out there. Wait until our advertising campaigns start rolling in China and Africa and India." He looked at his watch and rose. "I have to head back to Washington. I have a committee meeting."

"Have a good flight."

Senator Davis smiled. "Now I will, son. Now I will."

Oliver was upset. "What the hell am I going to do, Peter? The tobacco tax is by far the most popular measure the legislature has passed this year. What excuse do I have for vetoing it?"

Peter Tager took several sheets of paper from his pocket. "All the answers are right here, Oliver. I've discussed it with the senator. You won't have any problem. I've set up a press conference for four o'clock."

Oliver studied the papers. Finally, he nodded. "This is good."

"It's what I do. Is there anything else you need me for?"

"No. Thank you. I'll see you at four."

Peter Tager started to leave.

"Peter."

Tager turned. "Yes?"

"Tell me something. Do you think I really have a chance of becoming president?"

"What does the senator say?"

"He says I do."

Tager walked back to the desk. "I've known Senator Davis for many years, Oliver. In all that time, he hasn't been wrong once. Not once. The man has incredible instincts. If Todd Davis says you're going to be the next President of the United States, you can bet the farm on it."

There was a knock at the door. "Come in."

The door opened, and an attractive young secretary walked in, carrying some faxes. She was in her early twenties, bright and eager.

"Oh, excuse me, Governor. I didn't know you were in a - "

"That's all right, Miriam."

Tager smiled. "Hi, Miriam."

"Hello, Mr. Tager."

Oliver said, "I don't know what I'd do without Miriam. She does everything for me."

Miriam blushed. "If there's nothing else - " She put the faxes on Oliver's desk and turned and hurried out of the office.

"That's a pretty woman," Tager said. He looked over at Oliver.

"Yes."

"Oliver, you are being careful, aren't you?"

"Of course I am. That's why I had you get that little apartment for me."

"I mean big-time careful. The stakes have gone up. The next time you get horny, just stop and think about whether a Miriam or Alice or Karen is worth the Oval Office."

"I know what you're saying, Peter, and I appreciate it. But you don't have to worry about me."

"Good." Tager looked at his watch. "I have to go. I'm taking Betsy and the kids out to lunch." He smiled. "Did I tell you what Rebecca did this morning? She's my five-year-old. There was a tape of a kid's show she wanted to watch at eight o'clock this morning. Betsy said, 'Darling, I'll run it for you after lunch.' Rebecca looked at her and said, 'Mama, I want lunch now.' Pretty smart, huh?"