“It’s amazing,” Blair said. “Somehow you’ve managed to do all this and still keep the untamed feel of the rest of the island.”

“It’s great,” Diane said, echoing Blair’s sentiment. She hugged Tanner. “I admit, I never thought you’d settle down enough to run the family business, let alone do something like this. I figured you’d be lying out on some beach with a string of bored, horny cover girls— breaking their hearts—until you were fifty or so.”

“I might have been.” Tanner grinned, then her expression sobered. “Except I don’t know that I would’ve made it to fifty. I was a little crazy before Adrienne.”

Blair shook her head fondly. “God, she certainly has tamed you.”

“Ah, look who’s talking.” Tanner hip-bumped Blair playfully. “Who would have guessed you’d pick a spooky to marry!”

“Yeah yeah,” Blair said. “Come on, let’s get off the pier. It’s freezing in this wind.”

“I have to run up to the charterhouse for a second to check something,” Tanner said, “then I’ll meet you at the car.” She tossed Blair her keys. “Turn the heater on and warm her up for me. Kind of like old times.”

“Your charm doesn’t work on me, Whitley. So I’d watch your step.” As Tanner laughed and hurried away, Blair grasped Diane’s hand and studied her worriedly. “You okay? Tanner and I rhapsodizing about the joys of settling down must be tough for you to hear right now.”

Diane nodded. “I’m happy for you. Both of you.”

“I know that. But these tears aren’t from the wind.” Blair gently brushed at the moisture on Diane’s cheeks. “You look worn out.”

“I’m okay. I’m just not sleeping very well.”

“Or eating very well.” Blair loosed an exasperated sigh as she keyed the remote to Tanner’s SUV. She pointed for Diane to get into the front passenger seat as she got behind the wheel and started the engine. “It’s not going to do anyone any good if you make yourself sick.”

“It’s hard not to think about it all the time,” Diane whispered. “It’s hard not to wonder where she is. Not to wonder if someone’s hurt—” she looked away, her voice breaking.

“You don’t have as much experience with this kind of waiting, of not knowing or understanding what’s going on, as I have,” Blair said emphatically. “And I’m glad. But now you’ve fallen in love with someone whose whole life has been a secret. She’s always going to have secrets, Diane, and you can’t let that eat you up.”

Diane regarded Blair as if seeing her for the first time. “How do you handle it with Cam?”

“Not very well most of the time,” Blair said, grinning sheepishly. “After a while you accept that there are parts of themselves they don’t, or can’t, let us see. And once you’re done being pissed off by it, you understand that those are the parts that make them frighteningly good at what they do. Valerie has to be that kind of good to have ever fooled Cam.”

Diane smiled weakly. “I guess the fact that my girlfriend and your girlfriend have a history makes some kind of cosmic sense, doesn’t it?”

“That just might be the understatement of the year.” Blair laughed briefly, thinking of the night she’d unexpectedly discovered Valerie at Cam’s apartment in DC, and recognizing their connection, how much she had resented the place Valerie held in Cam’s heart. Cam swore that there was nothing between them any longer, and Blair knew that Cam believed it. But she had seen something that Cam had not. There had been a sadness in Valerie’s eyes that Blair understood with perfect clarity. Valerie had been deeply in love with Cam. Thinking about that sadness now, Blair found that she no longer resented what Valerie and

Cam had shared. Valerie had been there when Cam needed someone, and that was all that really mattered.

“She’ll need you, Di. She’ll need you, but she won’t let you know.” Blair reached for Diane’s hand. “That’s the hardest thing to remember—that the need is there, even though it’s buried so deeply even she can’t see it. It’s a pain in the ass, but you’ll just have to get used to it. I know you’re strong enough, and stubborn enough, to do it.”

“I don’t feel very strong sometimes.”

“Then that’s when you come find me, and I’ll remind you.”

“It helps to be with you, and I usually love Whitley Point,” Diane confessed, “but the quiet is driving me a little bit crazy right now. I’ve got too much time to think. Maybe I should go back to Manhattan.”

Blair shook her head vehemently. “Not a chance. I want you to come to the fundraiser Saturday night. And if Paula can take it, we’ll go shopping again.”

“Okay.” Diane laughed shakily as she glanced out the rear of the vehicle to where Stark and Hara sat in the Suburban. “If I have to suffer, I suppose she can too.”

“There, see? You’re sounding better already,” Blair said, smiling. “Here comes Tanner. I’ll get in the back.”

As Blair stepped from the car, she caught sight of Tanner’s expression and stopped. “What is it?”

Tanner handed her the Boston Globe. “I don’t know how you put up with this shit all the time.” She slid into the front seat and slammed the door.

Blair glanced down at the grainy picture of her in Paris with Cam standing just behind her. The caption read “President’s daughter to marry lesbian lover—Anti-same sex marriage groups protest.”

“Well,” Blair said as she climbed into the backseat, “Boston is looking a lot more interesting.”

She leaned her head back and closed her eyes, trying not to think about the crush of reporters sure to be waiting for her when she arrived at the fundraiser. She had wanted to go public, because any attempt not to would make her and her father appear like hypocrites when news of her plans inevitably leaked out. Nothing could be worse for a politician than the appearance of having one set of standards in public and another in private. She’d insisted on disclosure, but it was never easy exposing her personal life to public scrutiny.

“Let me see that,” Diane said.

“Hey Tanner,” Blair said, handing the newspaper to Diane as Tanner rocketed the SUV out of the parking lot and onto the narrow twisting road that hugged the ocean shoreline. Gravel spewed out behind them.

“What?” Tanner snapped.

“It’s okay. It’s just another day at the office.”

“It sucks.”

“Yeah, that, too.” Blair leaned forward and squeezed Tanner’s shoulder. “But try not to give Stark a heart attack and slow down a little.”

Tanner half turned her head, a grin pulling at her mouth. Then she looked back to the road and eased off on the gas. “Sorry, force of habit. I’m used to you telling me to lose your spookies.”

“Yes,” Blair said softly. “How things have changed.”

Cam’s jaw tightened as she scanned the newspaper. “Call Lucinda and tell her you’re canceling for the fundraiser.”

Blair braced both arms on the kitchen counter behind her and lifted herself up so that she was sitting on it. She still wore the blue jeans and red sweater she’d pulled on to go out with Tanner. Cam was in her work clothes and still wearing her weapon, and although Blair knew it was foolish, the additional height advantage made her feel better. “I wouldn’t do that even if it would do any good, which it won’t. Once Lucinda makes up her mind—”

“Lucinda is the president’s chief of staff, not yours.” Cam tossed the newspaper onto the oak table and started for the front of the house. “If you’d prefer, I’ll tell Stark to call her.”

“I’m sure Stark will appreciate that.”

Cam turned, her eyes narrowing. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“I know about the whole rank thing, but she’s still my chief of security. I don’t imagine she’ll appreciate being told anything. You never did.”

“Stark understands the situation,” Cam said, thinking about the briefing with Davis and Savard, and about Blair at a crowded cocktail reception where it would be impossible to control the guest list or secure the physical environment beyond the most basic measures. Thinking how exposed Blair would be. A ball of anger and anxiety filled her chest. “The timing is bad, especially after this newspaper article.”

“We’ve already discussed this, Cameron. If it isn’t this event, it will be some other one. We can’t prevent a public response to anything we do.”

“Why do you sound so calm?” Cam moved closer, but stopped two feet away. Just outside of touching distance.

“Because I know you’re not, and I know you’re worried.” Blair kept her hands on the counter, because she wanted to reach out and pull Cam across the divide. It was odd how she hated distance between them now. Once she had wanted, demanded, nothing but distance between herself and anyone who had the potential to hurt her. Mostly she resisted the urge to draw Cam near because she needed to judge exactly how much of Cam’s concern was her normal distrust of any public appearance and how much was a lover’s less rational concern. If she touched her, her perspective would be gone. “Why are you so much more worried about this event?”

“Jesus, Blair! Maybe you’ve forgotten what happened—” Cam bit off the rest of the sentence, cursing herself inwardly when she saw Blair flinch. Of course Blair hadn’t forgotten the assassination attempt at the Aerie. Blair would never be able to forget it, and bullying her with the memory instead of explaining her own unease was cowardly. And cruel. “I’m sorry, baby.”

Blair took a long breath. “Don’t apologize. Just trust me.”

Cam fell silent and Blair watched her struggle, waiting.

“I don’t feel like I’ve got a handle on anything right now, and I can’t afford to be wrong when your safety is at stake.” Cam took one step closer and rested her fingertips lightly on the outside of Blair’s thighs. “No one knows what really happened in September. We don’t know how much of the attack was orchestrated outside the country and what part insurgents inside the country might have played. But we know someone got very very close to you.” She hesitated.