Knight (Political Royalty Book 1) (10 page)

“One of the youngest women ever to earn the rank of general,” said Justin, staring at his phone. “Served in the European theater and in Central America before taking command in the Middle East. Retired last year as a four-star general after almost a dozen tours of duty.”

Haven listed the stats as Justin read them, covering the board with a trophy wall of Collins’s accomplishments. Walker got more depressed with every line she added.

“She has two children: a son and a daughter. The son followed her into service and her daughter went into medicine. Both are respected in their fields and both are happily married.”

Haven listed her son at the end of Collins’s long list of achievements and started a separate column for her daughter.

“She’s got three grandchildren; two boys and a girl from her son and his wife. Everybody’s still married.” Justin finished his litany and then looked up, meeting Haven’s gaze.

“No public service outside the military?” she asked.

“None that showed up at first glance.”

“Dig deeper,” she said, and Justin nodded. “I’m not about to minimize General Collins’s accomplishments and you can
never
do that.” She pinned Walker with her gaze and he fought the urge to squirm. He was the candidate. This was his show. He’d be damned if he let her make him feel like an errant child.

“Of course,” he said, sliding some disdain into his voice. “That goes without saying. What else do you have?”

Her eyes flashed and for just a moment he wondered what it would be like to have all that heat directed at him. Not that he ever intended to find out. A man didn’t play at a relationship with a woman like Haven. It shouldn’t be entered into lightly, and he didn’t have room in his life for a relationship anyway. He checked that box years ago. The fact that he was dissatisfied with how he’d done it fell to him and no one else.

“General Collins is an impressive figure with a deep level of military experience. Deep, not wide. Our country needs more than just a military commander. The title might be commander in chief, but the job is much more than that and it shouldn’t go to someone with little to no experience governing. We just need to find a way to show that,” she said, more to herself than to him or the rest of the people in the room.

While she’d been talking, he’d started to see her point. It would take a truckload of finesse to figure out how to honor the general’s service and at the same time show the voters that she wasn’t the right choice for command. But at least now he had some idea of what direction he needed to move in, which was a hell of a lot better than the Armageddon he’d felt watching the general announce her run.

“Gather everything you can on the candidates,” she told Justin. “Pull whoever you need from the floor, but I want you to focus on Collins.”

“I can help,” said Abby, speaking up for the first time in so long he’d almost forgotten she was there.

“Great,” said Haven. “Where are we with donors? Collins is going to pull party money. Who’s locked in?”

“Don’t you worry about the money,” said the governor, clearly bristling.

“With all due respect, sir, it’s my job to worry about the money.”

“None of the donors are going to back out on a Walker.”

“Maybe not, but they’d be stupid not to hedge their bets and split their contributions. It’s reckless to ignore that possibility.”

God, she was fantastic. Shep found himself torn between watching her handle his father and stepping in before the governor popped a vein. Paternal preservation won out. Barely.

“Travis will put together actuals versus projections,” he said, interjecting himself between Haven and his father. “I’ll mark any of the donors who might be likely to fall short of their pledges.”

“The money won’t be a problem,” said the governor, not content to let it go without one last dig.

“I’m sure it won’t,” said Haven, sounding like she’d take care of it herself if she had to. “Anybody have anything else for today?” She glanced around the room but no one spoke.

“I better get home. Traffic’s going to be a bitch this time of night,” said the governor. “Abby, darling, could you call for my car?”

“I’ll call,” said Walker, pulling his phone from his pocket. “Abby’s not your assistant.”

“She’s yours,” said his father, clearly baffled.

“Not the point,” he said, texting the governor’s driver.

Abby gazed at him like he’d given her some kind of gift, and he glanced away before things got too weird. She’d always been eager to please, but since he’d decided to make a run at the presidency, things had shifted between them. He’d have to be careful not to do anything to encourage her. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt someone who’d been so good to him.

“Travis, can you give Abby a lift back?” he asked, not stopping to wait for an answer. “There are a few things I’d like to discuss with Haven. I’ll call for a car when I’m finished.”

He turned his attention to the papers he had stuffed in his binder so Travis would have to interrupt him to say no. He wouldn’t. He’d take Abby home, and it would put a little distance—if only temporarily—between Walker and the woman who liked him a little too much. It would also give him a chance to stay and plot strategy with the woman he wasn’t sure liked him at all.

He heard the door close and when he looked up from the papers he hadn’t been reading, he was alone with Haven in her office. He’d be a lot more comfortable if that idea didn’t appeal to him so damn much.

“You’re worried.” She said it as a statement, not a question.

Leaning against the edge of the table, she crossed her arms over her silk-covered breasts, pushing up her cleavage in a way he felt certain was unintentional. That didn’t stop him from noticing. He wasn’t dead.

“You don’t need to be. We always knew it would be a fight. Now we just have a better idea of the battlefield.”

“I’m not worried,” he said and had the pleasure of watching her eyes go wide. There was something truly enjoyable about knocking Haven sideways. He shouldn’t enjoy it as much as he did. “You’ll figure it out. Where are we with our ground game in Iowa?”

“Justin and I are headed out at the end of the week. We have enough staff to keep things going here and I want to touch base with the captains personally. We’ll do the legwork so when you arrive the audience is ready.”

“Why don’t I go with you?” he said, shocking himself as much as her. As soon as the words left his mouth, he knew it was exactly what he wanted to do. “Listen, it makes sense. Those people don’t know me. They only know what they’ve read or been told about me. Let me go out and meet them. Then when they’re working to get me elected, they’ll already have a vested interest. Set it up so it’s something special, just for them. We won’t do press. Just me and the potential captains getting to know each other.”

He waited, watching her turn the idea over in her head. It was a good thing she worked behind the scenes. Her beautiful face gave away everything she thought.

“Are you sure you have time? These trips can be colossally boring.”

“I’ll make time. This is more important.” He had a family, but the girls would be in school and tied up with dance and lessons after school. They’d barely have time to miss him, and as long as she wasn’t missing a chance in front of the cameras, Sandra would be happy to see the back of his head.

“I’m not seeing a downside,” she said, clearly still searching for one. “The volunteers are going to love it. It will build political capital for the primary and the general.”

She said it like it was an assumption that he’d go on to win the nomination, and he wondered if she was really that sure of herself and him, or if she simply couldn’t conceive of losing.

“You know I’m the candidate, right? You’re not supposed to say no to me.” He gave her his best cocky grin but the set of her jaw said she wasn’t biting.

“I’ll say whatever I have to say to you to make sure you do what you need to do to win.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, letting his drawl thicken.

For a moment, they stared at each other and then she started to laugh.

“Fine. Whatever,” she said, still smiling. “You can come. But we’re flying commercial. Don’t say it.” She held up her hand between them. “Jetting around in your family’s private airplane isn’t the kind of visual we can afford.”

“You’re the boss,” he said, feeling like he’d won something special but unsure exactly what. “Make the arrangements and let me know where and when.”

––––––––

“H
ERE,” SAID WALKER, handing her a mammoth-sized coffee cup while they waited for Justin to pull the car around.

It was their second stop of the day with an hour and a half drive and then another scheduled before lunch. So far the senator had been great, learning the captain’s names and asking questions about their families. He spent more time listening to their concerns than spouting policy and by the end of their time together, she could tell he’d cemented their support. A handful more meetings today and then tomorrow they could hit the rest of the state. If he could keep up the pace, they might be able to finish on time instead of extending the trip a day like she’d planned to when he insisted on coming along.

“I don’t drink coffee,” she said, touched by his gesture anyway. She’d worked with enough politicians to know they were used to having staff do their bidding. Since she and Justin were the only ones traveling with him, she’d expected him to assume they’d fetch and carry for him rather than the other way around.

“I know. It’s tea, black, with enough sugar to hype up a room full of preschoolers.”

She started to ask him how he knew the way she liked her tea, but he already looked much too pleased with himself. There was no reason to give him any more ammunition.

“Thanks,” she said, taking a sip. When she glanced back up, he was watching her, clearly waiting for her reaction. “It’s good.”

She kept her voice deliberately flat but it didn’t deter the grin that split his handsome face. Under normal circumstances he was attractive, but when he smiled, something light and almost boyish about his face made him irresistible. Or would to voters, since that’s who concerned her.

“You know it’s just a cup of tea, right?” she said when he kept smiling. “Any good barista—hell, any bad one—could make it.”

“I know,” he said, but his smile didn’t dim.

She was shaking her head when Justin pulled to the curb in the rented forest-green Camry that had seen better days. She moved to climb into the backseat but Walker stopped her, holding the front passenger side door open and motioning her inside.

“You take shotgun. You know where we’re going and riding in the back lets me pretend Justin is my driver.”

“Yes, Miss Daisy,” said Justin.

“Were you even alive when that movie came out?” asked Haven, buckling her seat belt.

“I’m two years younger than you,” said Justin, managing to pull out into traffic and roll his eyes at the same time.

“God, I feel old,” said Walker from the backseat.

“That’s not necessarily a bad thing.” Haven shifted in her seat so she faced Justin and could easily glance over the faded headrest to the backseat.

“Speak for yourself.” Walker looked at her with one of his eyebrows arched, and she swallowed hard.

“Seriously, Americans tend to like our presidents at least a decade or so older than you. You’re a young guy. It wouldn’t hurt you to project a more mature image.”

“You’re such a sweet talker,” he said in a way that made it clear he thought sweet talk was a synonym for bullshit.

“Hey, say what you want, but even the youngest president in recent years had a couple of years on you.”

“It won’t matter,” said Justin, merging onto the highway. “By the time you’re out of office, you’ll be a gray-haired shell of your former self.”

“Nice,” said Walker, and Haven laughed.

“Don’t blame me. You can see for yourself. A quick Google search will show you what you have to look forward to.” Justin kept his gaze on the road, but Haven could see the corner of his mouth twitch up and knew he was having a good time screwing with the senator. “Better start stockpiling the Botox now.”

“I love the way you look out for me, Justin. Maybe you could give me the name of your guy.”

Haven didn’t bother trying to hold back her laugh. Justin was inherently vain. She’d teased him about it for as long as she’d known him. He might know the senator was joking, but she’d bet money it wouldn’t stop him from spending an extra twenty minutes in front of the mirror looking for lines before he went to bed.

“Funny,” said Justin, flipping on the radio and hitting scan.

The car was too old to have satellite radio. Haven watched the snow-covered fields pass outside the window. Everything was gray: the road, the sky—even the snow took on a slushy gray cast. Broken dried corn stalks poking through the snow punctuated the monotony of endless gray.

“Agriculture is a one hundred and twelve billion dollar industry in Iowa. It’s third in the nation in ag receipts,” said Walker, taking the tone of a documentary narrator. “Iowa farmers raise more pigs, corn, and soybeans than any other state. And produce more eggs.” He raised his hand in front of him, holding up his index finger as if he were lecturing a room full of students. “They’re number one in ethanol and biodiesel production, which is a mixed blessing. But it shows they’re open to new ideas.”

“These are your people, Senator,” said Justin, glancing in the rearview mirror.

“Agriculture is the number-one industry in more states than people realize,” said Walker, leaning forward and slipping out of politician mode as his passion in what he was saying caught hold of him. “When Iowa farmers figure out how to raise cheaper, more prolific soybeans, the cost of raising Chinese pigs goes down. Hundreds of millions of people in China eat better than the previous generation because they can afford to buy pork. It’s not my people or their people. It’s an interconnected system we’re all part of.”

She knew he was smart. After she got past her preconceived ideas, it had been easy to give him that one. But she’d been so focused on building his image and trying to make sure he could win—focusing on the politician—she hadn’t paid much attention to his actual message. He meant it when he said America could lead the way in feeding the world and he’d put his money and his time where his mouth was. There had to be a way to get voters to see what she’d just realized.