Mirror Image

said blandly. “Making the most of every situation—even the bad ones.”
    She had been too incensed to offer a comeback. Besides, they were battling their way through microphones and cameras toward the elevators. At the door to their room, she confronted Jack and Eddy, who were about to follow them inside.
    “Tate is going to lie down and let that pain pill take effect,” she told them, barring any arguments to the contrary. “I’m going to tell the switchboard not to put any calls through.”
    “He’s got to make some kind of statement.”
    “You write it,” she said to Jack. “You would rewrite whatever he said anyway. Just remember what he told us on the drive back. He doesn’t intend to press charges against the man who threw the bottle, although he abhors violence and considers it a base form of self-expression. Nor does he blame the UAW as a group for the actions of a few members. I’m sure you can elaborate on that.”
    “I’ll pick you up here at seven-thirty,” Eddy said as he turned to go. Over his shoulder, he added peremptorily, “Sharp.”
    Tate had dozed for a while, then watched the news before getting up to shower and dress. Now he turned away from the bureau mirror and faced her, lifting his hands away from his sides. “Well?
    Tilting her head, she gave him a thoughtful appraisal. “Very rakish.” His hair dipped attractively over the wound. “The bandage adds a cavalier dash to your very proper tuxedo.”
    “Well, that’s good,” he muttered, tentatively touching the bandage, “because it hurts like bloody hell.”
    Avery moved nearer and gazed up at him with concern. “We don’t have to go.”
    “Eddy would shit a brick.”
    “Let him. Everyone else would understand. If Michael Jackson can cancel a concert because of a stomach virus, disappointing thousands of adoring fans, you can cancel a dinner and disappoint a couple hundred.”
    “But have Michael Jackson’s fans paid two hundred dollars a plate?” he quipped. “He can afford to cancel. I can’t.”
    “At least take another pill.”
    He shook his head. “If I go, I’ve got to be in full command of my faculties.”
    “Lord, you’re stubborn. Just like you were about staying there this afternoon.”
    “It made great video on the evening news.”
    She frowned at him. “You sound like Eddy now. You’re running for public office, not best target of the year for every kook with a grudge against the system. You shouldn’t place your life in jeopardy just because it makes for good film at six and ten.”
    “Listen, it’s only because I’m running for public office that I didn’t go after that son of a bitch who threw the bottle and beat the crap out of him myself.”
    “Ah, that’s what I like. A candidate who really speaks his mind.”
    They laughed together, but after a moment their laughter died. Tate’s warm gaze held hers. “That’s still my favorite dress. You look terrific.”
    “Thank you.” She was wearing the black cocktail dress he had admired before.
    “I, uh, behaved like a jerk this afternoon.”
    “You said some hurtful things.”
    “I know,” he admitted, blowing out a gust of air. “I meant to. Partially because—”
    A knock sounded. “Seven-thirty,” Eddy called through the door.
    Tate looked annoyed. Avery, at the height of frustration, yanked up her evening bag and marched toward the door. Her senses were sizzling. Her nerves were shot. She felt like screaming.
    She almost did when one of the first people she spotted among the crowd at Southfork was the man she’d noticed once before, at the Midland/Odessa Airport.
    * * *
    The ranch house made famous by the television series “Dallas” was ablaze with lights. Since this was a special night, the house was open and partygoers were allowed to walk through it. The actual dinner was being held in the adjacent barnlike building that was frequently leased for large parties.
    The turnout was better than expected. As soon as they arrived they were informed that it was a capacity crowd. Many had offered to pay more than two hundred dollars for the opportunity to attend and hear Tate speak.
    “No doubt as a result of that fantastic news story today,” Eddy said. “All the networks and local channels led with it on their six o’clock telecasts.” He flashed Avery a complacent smile.
    She slid her arm through the crook of Tate’s elbow, an indication that he was more important to her than any news story, or even the