Politically Incorrect (4 page)

Harper chuckled at my abrasiveness, but didn’t hesitate. He stepped behind the bar and poured himself another drink. “So I take it you haven’t heard the news?”

I placed my purse on the leather chair near the fireplace and walked over to him, presenting my commandeered glass for a refill.

“What news?”

Harper clapped. “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me? I can’t believe you don’t know. This is a first.”

Instead of pouring bourbon for me, as he had for himself, he grabbed the decanter filled with scotch and doled out two fingers full. “I must bask in this moment. I can’t believe the Queen of Politics doesn’t know…”

I gritted my teeth. Harper knew how much I hated that nickname. I wasn’t the queen of anything. I just happened to be the best at my job. “Stop gloating and tell me what I’m missing.” I grabbed my glass, taking a swig of its treasures.

Harper’s lips quirked in a ghost of a smile. “Thomas Bailey’s stepping down,” came his hushed voice.

My glass nearly hit the floor from my shock. Somehow I managed to catch it without spilling a drop.

“Nice catch.”

“Are you kidding me?”

He laughed, shaking his head. “Nope. Christmas is a little late this year, or maybe it’s a little early, but either way, I’ll take it.”

My hand shook with each word for emphasis. “Senator Tom Bailey is stepping down?” I asked in disbelief. “That man’s been in office since the dawn of time.”

“Seems that way. But it’s true. He announced it about an hour ago, but I got the inside scoop yesterday. His wife’s Parkinson's has worsened, and a little birdy told me she’s dealing with dementia, too. They’re not giving her much time and he says they want to be home for her final days.”

For a moment I actually felt sad. “I’m sorry to hear that. Doris is a sweet lady.”

“She is and I feel for them, but do you know what this means?”

I gulped down the rest of my drink, grinning on the inside while maintaining my solemn demeanor. “It means there’s a senate chair open for the taking.”

“It does.”

The glass in my hand clanked against the wood of the bar as I rested it for another refill. “And I bet this next drink you already have a candidate in mind.”

He poured me a double.

My laughter filled the room at winning my little wager. “Who is...he?” It was never good to assume that the suggested candidate would be male, but it was still the norm, even with the first female president currently residing in the White House.

“
He
,” Harper confirmed, “is the perfect candidate.”

I crossed my arms over my chest. “I’ll be the judge of that. Besides, you realize you’re asking an impossible task of me here. It’s not going to be easy to sell a Democrat to fill a Republican’s seat. I’m in for a heavy year if I take this on, which means,” I examined my fingernails, fighting back the grin trying to expose me, “this won’t be cheap.”

Harper hummed in acknowledgement. “Is that so?”

I lifted my shoulder in a nonchalant shrug. “It is. So, I’m curious. Will your candidate be able to cover my fee or will he have someone bankrolling this venture for him?”

Harper dropped his head back in laughter. “Money’s not an option with this one. I’ve got him covered.”

“Interesting. So you really like this guy.”

“He’s different. I think he’ll overcome the stigma. We need fresh blood, Bet, and fresh ideas. This guy’s got them. I’ve been following him for some time. He’s the real deal. The breath of fresh air that Texas and the democratic party needs.”

Skeptical, I rolled my eyes. “Promises, promises. Tell me about him.”

A smirk twisted Harper’s mouth. He pulled his glass to his lips and took a drink. “I’d prefer you to meet him,” he mumbled over the rim of the glass.

I dropped down on the sofa, crossing my ankles and tucking my long legs back. “He’s here?”

“Yup. I invited him here because I knew if I simply told you about him, you’d probably laugh in my face and turn me down. But just like Ross Cooperman, I know as soon as you meet him, you’re going to fall in love with him.”

“Cooperman’s on board? You’re telling me that the DNC is giving him their full support?” A hint of shock and sarcasm peppered my tone. The Democratic National Committee in Texas was usually as skeptical as I was, so for Cooperman to actually be on board before I was even introduced to the candidate really had me suspicious.

Smug as ever, Harper scratched his jaw and shrugged. “Full backing.”

“Who the hell’s this guy that he already has the full backing of the DNC?”

Harper placed his tumbler on the counter and strode over to the sofa where I sat. He reached across me to the phone on the end table. His lips twitched as he spoke into the mouthpiece, “Send him in,” and hung up. Crossing his leg over his knee, Harper leaned back and rested his arm behind me along the top of the sofa.

Almost as soon as Harper got comfortable, a dark figure emerged at the den entrance. Every inch of skin on my body electrified at the sight of the shadowed frame. My breath caught in my throat and I uncrossed my legs, pushing myself to the edge of my seat. Clenched fingers curled into the fabric of the cushions. I lifted my chin and squinted my eyes to see this man as he entered the room. Focused on his face, my heart raced in my chest. Perspiration formed on the back of my neck. My stomach fluttered in excitement. If I didn’t know better, I would’ve thought I was high. This feeling was unlike anything I’d ever felt before and it frightened me.

I stood up, only to realize how tall this man was. In heels, I met most men eye-to-eye. This man, however, towered over me still. I took one step toward the door and halted; for he moved into the light and the world stopped on its axis. My heart thundered in my chest and air rushed in my ears.

With a light shake of my head, I straightened up, forcing back the wiggly feeling in the pit of my stomach. That wasn’t me. I wasn’t some silly school girl or hormone crazed teenager. I inhaled deep, adjusted my skirt, and put on my best smile.

“Elizabeth McNeal,” Harper extended a hand out toward the god standing before me, “I’d like to introduce you to Congressman William Baxter.”

“My friends call me Liam,” the tall drink of water noted, extending his large hand to me.

Out of habit, I accepted his offering. We both froze, locked in that simple action of shaking hands. His skin was warm against mine and the smell of his cologne was tantalizing. He moved forward, closing what little gap remained between us. His hooded eyes were glued to mine. Long, smooth fingers engulfed my small hand. For a moment everything around me faded into the background. Gone was the smell of expensive alcohol and the crackling of the fire. I couldn’t even hear myself breathe. Only this man stood in the haze of my thoughts.

Deep chocolate eyes, so dark they appeared almost liquid, stared down at me under long, chestnut lashes. Lips, full and pink, spread into an award winning smile ─ one I was certain he’d perfected over the years, and like any good politician, he’d used it to get his way a time or two. He was dressed in a tailored slate gray three-piece suit with a silk orange tie that was virtually bright as the sun. Aside from the monstrosity of his tie, I had to admit this man was almost perfect. But me being me, I had to find imperfections, no matter how small they might be.

I blinked several times and licked my lips, my gaze running up and down his tight, hard body. Broad shoulders dropped to a trim waistline. He was an athlete; of that I was sure. His body was too firm not to be. The mere way he stood, with near perfect posture, suggested former military, which would also explain why his golden brown hair was cut far too short. A buzz cut might be standard for military personnel, but for a senator people expected a man with hair ─ unless he was naturally going bald. Don’t ask me why, I’d never been able to explain the American public perception, but naturally balding men equates distinguished and wise while a buzz cut elicits fear.

Then there was a little scar above his left eyebrow. No one would notice it if they weren’t scrutinizing him, as I was, but it made me wonder what the story was behind such a tiny imperfection. While his smile was charming, his two bottom incisors were crooked. There was a small bump on his otherwise perfectly straight and narrow nose.

A sports injury, perhaps?

Up and down, my eyes raked over him, and trust me, that was no easy feat. The man had to be six-four, maybe six-five. His height alone was intimidating.

Out of all his physical imperfections, which really weren’t imperfections at all, they actually added to his handsome demeanor, the one thing I noticed ─ the most important thing I noticed─ was his youth. Since Harper was suggesting him for the senate seat, I knew he had to be over thirty, but not by much. This man was barely a man. He was still a child when it came to working on the Hill.

I released his hand and took a step back. My heart thundered in my ears, but I managed to ignore it. Instead, I allowed my professional nature to take over. I swiveled around by my hip to catch Harper’s eye. “Please tell me this is a joke.” I thrust my thumb upward toward Liam, who seemed incapable of taking the hint that I needed space to breathe as he’d, once again, invaded my personal space. The hairs on the back of my neck tickled with excitement. I rolled my shoulders to push back the completely inappropriate and unwanted attraction I had toward this guy.

“I beg your pardon,” Liam scoffed.

Harper’s lips curved into a cocky smirk. He shrugged a shoulder and gave me a wink.

“No wonder you said money wasn’t an option!” I huffed in frustration. I raked a fingernail over my eyebrow. “Do we even have a clue who the Republican candidate or
candidates
might be?”

Harper’s smile dropped. He clasped his hands together over his knee. “Not exactly. But I’m pretty sure we both know who it’ll be.”

My hand smacked over my forehead. “Governor Keating,” I groaned. “Now, I know this has to be a joke. There’s no way you’d send this guy, a nobody, up against Keating.”

As shrewd as politicians came, Bonnie Keating fit the bill. Her wily antics and cunning charisma could lull a person into a false sense of security. She had the ability to make a person believe she could change the world so it would no longer revolve around the sun but rather around you before cutting you down to size in a matter of a few words. Bonnie would do just about anything to get elected, which she’d proven time and time again. Her crooked tactics were what landed her in the Governor's office. If she was the person we’d be up against, we needed a hard hitter not the rookie kid who was still wet behind the ears.

“Where do you get off…”

I whipped back around to Liam, raising my chin to meet his dark gaze. “Look, I’m sure you’re a nice guy, and maybe even a great Congressman, but this is the big leagues,
kid
, and I’m afraid you’ll be eaten alive.”

His once adorable smile turned downward and bright red burned through his cheeks. “I don’t know what makes you think you have the right...”

Cutting him off again, I snapped, “Years of experience.”

I turned back to Harper, my temper flaring. “You called me here for this?” I flung my hand backward, uncaring that I’d just smacked the Congressman in the chest. “He’s barely reached puberty.”

“She can’t be serious?” Liam barked.

Harper crossed his arms over his chest, his mouth screwed tight in an attempt to fight off laughter.

“I know you said she’s the Queen of Politics, but I’m not taking this ageist crap from anyone. I don’t care if it’s the Pope himself. I appreciate your support, Mr. Harper, but I’m out if it means I have to work with someone who’s as prejudice as she is.”

If my blood wasn’t already boiling before, it was now. I jerked back around to him, my teeth gritted. “Ageist? Prejudice? I’ll have you know I’m neither of those things, but what I am is a person with a great deal of experience. I was running high-profile campaigns while you were discovering hair in awkward places. How old are you anyway? Thirty? Thirty-one?”

“Thirty-four,” he reluctantly replied.

“And that right there is my point. The odds are already stacked against you being a Democrat in Texas. Not to mention the fact you’ll most likely be running against a well-known politician, where no one even knows your name. Those two issues alone put us in the weeds, but you add being under forty to the mix and we might as well kiss that seat goodbye.”