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eBook Category: Mainstream
eBook Description: In Washington D.C., where you are distinguished by the parties you throw and by the ones that you are invited to, it can be devastating to both your image and career to not have your guest of honor show up. The wife of a struggling politician learns the hard way how her husband ranks on the stepladder of power. Another in the series of story stories that captures this insider's view of how the rich and mighty live in Washington D.C.

eBook Publisher: Stonehouse Press, Published: 2001
Fictionwise Release Date: November 2001

14 Reader Ratings: Great Good OK Poor

Available eBook Formats [MultiFormat - What's this?]: Adobe Acrobat (PDF) [48 KB], eReader (PDB) [24 KB], Palm Doc (PDB) [10 KB], Rocket/REB1100 (RB) [10 KB], Microsoft Reader (LIT) [41 KB] - PocketPC 1.0+ Compatible, Franklin eBookMan (FUB) [81 KB], hiebook (KML) [33 KB], Sony Reader (LRF) [35 KB], iSilo (PDB) [8 KB], Mobipocket (PRC) [11 KB], Kindle Compatible (MOBI) [38 KB], OEBFF Format (IMP) [17 KB]
Words: 2848
Reading time: 8-11 min.
Microsoft Reader (LIT) Format: Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud ENABLED
Adobe Acrobat (PDF) Format:  Printing DISABLED, Read-Aloud DISABLED
All Other formats: Printing DISABLED, Read-aloud DISABLED

There the vase stood, on a little round table in Katherine Laughton's upstairs library, which was the room one had to pass before one got to the cute little black loo with the authentic oriental rug over the black marble floor. The library, obviously lit for exhibition, was aglitter with shiny black leather on which could be seen candle bulb reflections and soft little spot lights that washed over the leather bindings of massed, soldierly books.

Heirlooms, Margaret supposed, since the room looked more for show than reading, an impressive byway on the road to the loo. A tiny bundle of white peonies spilled over the vase's neck and a spear of light picked out each lovely petal. Because she loved flowers, Margaret saw them first, then the familiar tapered shape of the mauve vase, subtly crafted by some nameless Japanese artisan.

The sight rooted her to the corridor, where she hesitated, feeling the surge of throbbing blood in her temples, louder to her ears than the downstairs din. A moment before, she had walked up the wide circling carpeted stairs under the cover of natural impulse, but more out of curiosity to see the upstairs. She had been happy to see the loo occupied. Connie Howard, who, like her husband, was an assistant Secretary; there were three of those, had chirped in her ear:

"You've just got to see the upstairs library and the little black loo."

The possessions and their decorative touches displayed on the first floor of this outsize Georgetown place, circa eighteen something, promised upstairs delights and she had nodded to Connie. It was three years since the Laughtons had bought the place. They had, of course, entertained before. Rather frequently. Within their carefully circumscribed tight little circle, the barbed ring closed to mere assistant Secretaries.