people within the Beltway who had a sense of humor.
Apparently satisfied that his friend’s apology was sincere, Jonathan turned back to Mary. “Darling, exactly how often have you had this feeling of being watched?”
She closed her eyes and considered. “At least five or six different times. And they weren’t all when I was out in public. Once when I was at the hairdresser’s, I sensed someone staring at me through the front window.”
Camille leaned forward. “Mary, how horrible! Why didn’t you say something? I could have asked Henri to give you a more secluded booth in the rear.”
Mary shook her head. “I can’t go through life riding in taxis and hiding in the back rooms of beauty salons. If someone is following me, then I need to take some reasonable precautions.” She placed a strong emphasis on reasonable. “In fact, I’m thinking about buying a gun.”
Jonathan threaded his fingers together and stared at her. “I don’t think that’s wise. I believe statistics will bear me out here, Mary. Unless you’re completely prepared to use that gun and perhaps take another person’s life, owning a firearm is more of a liability than an asset. Besides, I really don’t believe a weapon is necessary.”
“I’m surprised to hear you say that, Regent,” the senator interjected. “If someone is really following Mary, she could be in danger.”
Jonathan shook his head. Rather than respond directly to his friend, he continued addressing his remarks to Mary. “Forgive me, my dear, but I’m still not convinced that what you’ve been experiencing isn’t merely a case of nerves. But if someone is lurking around beauty shops, I’m sure it’s that unemployed waiter you used to date.”
Mary stifled a grin at Jonathan’s description of her previous boyfriend. Despite her continued protests that she and Mark Lester had never had a serious relationship, Jonathan still acted jealous whenever Mark’s name came up. And he knew perfectly well that Mark had only worked as a waiter a few nights a week to help cover his graduate-school expenses.
She couldn’t seriously believe that Mark was skulking around behind her, watching her every move. He hadn’t been that interested when they were dating.
Camille, as if annoyed that the conversation was centered on Mary’s welfare, pointedly shifted the subject. “Well, I’m sure Mary will take every precaution just in case some lunatic is out there. But let’s talk about the wedding! Mary, when do we get to go look at wedding gowns? You know, my dear, I’d be more than happy to help you plan the wedding. An event of this magnitude takes a certain amount of...social experience, you know.”
The rest of their meal was punctuated with merriment as the two women discussed color schemes and honeymoon locales. The men groaned frequently and made obligatory macho comments about the cost of the upcoming nuptials exceeding the national debt.
Just before they broke up their lengthy luncheon, Jonathan raised his hand. “Brad, Camille, I asked the two of you to dine with us today for a reason. You’re my oldest friends and I wanted both of you present for the occasion.” Jonathan reached into his jacket pocket and extracted a small, blue velvet jeweler’s box. He pushed the unopened case in front of Mary. “For my beloved bride. I’m afraid it pales compared to the purity of your smile, but it was the best I could do.”
With a trembling hand, Mary opened the tiny box and gasped in astonishment. Nestled in the midnight blue lining was a twinkling diamond solitaire. Quite possibly the largest diamond she’d ever seen outside the Smithsonian. “Jonathan, it’s lovely. But...but it’s so...enormous!”
Immediately, his eyebrows dipped and a scowl took command of his handsome features. With an incredulous shake of his head, he asked, “Don’t you like it?”
Mary lifted the glittering band out of the box and slipped it on her left ring finger. The stone was much larger, and more ostentatious than what she would have chosen for herself, but she knew that to Jonathan the size of the diamond was comparable to the depth of his devotion. She was swamped with a surge of tenderness for this complex man who’d breezed into her life and swept her into a world she’d never dreamed existed.
Raising her hand so everyone could see the exquisite stone dominating her delicate fingers, Mary turned to Jonathan. “It’s the most impressive ring I’ve ever seen. Thank you so much, Jonathan. Truly.”
His gloomy expression lightened immediately. “Only the best for my bashful bride.”
Camille stood up and clasped her clutch bag. Her already pale face looked pinched and drawn. “All I can say is, if Mary wasn’t being stalked by muggers before, she will be in the future. Jonathan, that ring is about one carat shy of being a diamond mine unto itself. Brad, are you ready to go? I have an appointment with my personal trainer at three.”
Stuffing a last bite of dinner roll into his mouth, Brad heaved his bulk out of his chair. “I suppose you know, Regent, that I’ll never hear the end of this. For the rest of my life, Camille is going to be griping about that ‘chip’ on Mary’s finger.”
Jonathan laughed and clapped the senator on the shoulder. “As my candid bride would say—vote yourself another pay raise and buy your wife a bigger one!”
With that rejoinder, the foursome parted company. At Jonathan’s insistence, Mary accompanied him in the limousine until it dropped him off at his Alexandria, Virginia office. Then the chauffeur reversed his route, taking the George Washington Bridge back across the Potomac River, and threaded his way along the Washington streets. It was over an hour later before he finally dropped Mary off at the Georgetown Regent Hotel.
As she crossed the lobby, pausing only to check for mail at the desk, she paid scant attention to the luxurious surroundings. Her mind was on the details involved in planning a society wedding. She wondered what Jonathan would say if she told him she’d rather exchange vows in her mother’s living room in northern Michigan than go through all the hoopla Camille had recited at lunch.
Reaching her apartment door, Mary fumbled in her bag for her key, unlocked the door and stepped across the threshold. Suddenly, she stopped.
There it was again. That creepy sensation of something being wrong. Out of place.
No, it couldn’t be. Not here in her home.
Forcing herself to take several calming breaths, she turned to lock the door behind her, when her foot crunched on something on the carpet. Moving her foot, she saw that she’d stepped on an envelope that apparently had been slipped under the door.
Relief flooded through her.
Something had been out of place. Her subconscious had simply picked up on the envelope lying on the floor.
It looked like an invitation. Must have been hand-delivered, she mused. Plucking the envelope off the rug, Mary engaged the dead bolt and kicked off her shoes. She hated wearing high heels every day, but Camille insisted that a woman of “Mary’s station” should always wear heels in public. Wriggling her toes in the thick pile carpet, Mary crossed into the living room and nestled on the shell pink damask sofa. She curled her feet beneath her and opened the envelope.
For a moment, she stared with perplexity at the single sheet of paper. After reading the brief message for the third time, she watched the paper slip from her numb fingers. Acting purely on instinct, Mary picked up the telephone and punched in Jonathan’s office number.
“Oh,
