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“Hmph. Still shouldn’t have been up so late.”
Athena topped up her coffee and turned back to the woman, trying to quell her own irritation. “I’m going to stroll around and check on things. I’ll head upstairs in a little bit to see if she’s awake, and let you know.”
Before going upstairs to look in on Sloane, Athena walked outside to the backyard, where a luxurious arched-ceiling tent was being set up. As soon as they were finished, the small tables and chairs would be brought in, and the dance floor put together. Sloane had hired a band for live dance music. It was a shame, she thought, that the pool had been closed and covered at the end of September, because it would have been lovely to see it all lit up from the tent. But October weather was unpredictable in Washington and could go from pleasant to snow in the blink of an eye.
Satisfied that all was going as planned, Athena checked her watch and headed inside to see if Sloane had awakened, padding down the long hallway to Sloane’s room and listening at the door. It was slightly open, and Athena could hear Sloane talking on thephone. She strained to hear what she was saying. She caught Brianna’s name and leaned in closer.
“No, no. I don’t want the funds held up. Send me the report. I’ll go over it and sign off on the disbursement.”
There was silence and Athena realized Sloane had finished her call.
“Ah, you’re up,” she said, opening the door all the way and entering.
Sloane sat on a chair, using the reaching tool with a pincher to put on a pair of pants.
“Can I help you with that?” Athena asked.
“No. I have to do this for myself.” Sloane grabbed the cane and stood, tucking a white long-sleeved blouse into loose tweed pants. Taking a breath after her effort, she turned to Athena. “I took one last look at the guest list and didn’t see Senator Marconi’s name. Did we get an RSVP from her?”
“Remember? I phoned last week and was told she’s out of town.”
Sloane’s glance flickered. “I must have forgotten.”
Athena kept her expression neutral with difficulty. This was the third time Sloane had asked about her. Maybe it was the pain medication, but she’d been repeating herself a lot over the past week.
“Oh, another thing. There was a call from Fred Sawyer’s office saying he was called out of town, and that his wife, Madelyn, would be attending alone.”
“Oh, wonderful.” Sloane’s tone of contempt didn’t escape Athena’s notice.
“How’s everything downstairs?”
“Great so far. They’ve probably finished setting up the tent and should be laying down the dance floor soon. Dancing under the stars—how romantic.”
Sloane smiled but said nothing.
“What are you wearing tonight?” Athena asked.
“Come, I’ll show you.”
Athena followed Sloane into the large closet and dressing room,where a pale pink gown hung. “Oh my. It’s gorgeous. I loved the gown you wore to the White House dinner a while ago too.”
Sloane’s brow wrinkled. “The White House dinner?”
Athena didn’t miss the questioning look on Sloane’s face. She and Clint had studied the video carefully. She shouldn’t have mentioned it now. “Uh…yes. I watched you and the senator and all the other guests arriving on the C-Span telecast. I was excited that the Greek prime minister was in town.”
“I see.”
Athena cleared her throat. “Shall I let Doris and Yvette know you’re ready for breakfast?”
“No, no. I’ll go down now. Have something small, and then we can get to work.”
Athena noticed that Sloane’s eyes still looked tired, and her face pinched with pain every time she took a step.
When they reached the stairs, Sloane gripped the banister so tightly that her knuckles turned white, and her steps were slow and halting. How she’d get through the evening was a mystery to Athena.
Athena would talk to the senator tomorrow about Sloane’s medications. She could suggest that stronger pain meds were called for. She hadn’t really had any time alone with him since the interview, but now that his wife was going to bed so early, there would be time to catch him by himself. And time alone with Whit was crucial to her plan.
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