Knight (Political Royalty Book 1) (3 page)

“Not long, but I have this amazing invention called an umbrella. It keeps the rain off my head and keeps my clothes from getting ruined. That silk is going to spot.” He glanced down at her blouse, and her gaze followed his.

“You’re such a smart ass,” she said, cringing at the drop marks marring the cream silk of her blouse.

The blouse and gray slacks were her favorites. She wore them almost like a uniform, adjusting the height of her heels when she needed to feel like more of a badass. Today’s choice were a solid three and a half inches of red-soled gorgeousness. It still hadn’t been quite enough to put her eye to eye with Walker. She couldn’t call him Shepherd without thinking of goats, and Shep made her picture border collies. He’d just have to be Walker to her.

“So what was he like?” asked Justin after they both sat down and the perfectly attentive server took Haven’s drink order. As usual, his sandy blond hair was perfectly styled to look effortless, and his suit fit like it had been made for him. Unlike Walker’s, it hadn’t, but Haven knew from experience her friend believed in the value of a good tailor.

“Southern,” she said, thinking of her first impressions of the man who might be their next president. Would be, if she had anything to do with it. “Perfect teeth, perfect hair, perfect family. You’ve seen his picture.”

“Lord, yes.” Justin let his eyes drift closed for a moment, and she laughed.

“Easy. He’s married and hopefully a client.”

Justin’s eyes snapped open, and he pinned Haven with his gaze, barely blinking while the server set Haven’s glass of Pinot Noir in front of her.

“Do we have our new candidate?” he asked as soon as the server moved out of earshot.

“If he decides to run, then yes, I think we do. He’s not who I expected. He’s smarter. Serious. He sounds like lazy Sunday afternoons, but I bet he could hold his own against anyone else the Republicans decide to run. He seems careful.” She thought back over the meeting. The only reason she hadn’t taken Justin was Walker’s chief of staff’s insistence that she come alone.

“He’ll run. They all say they’re just thinking about it but they can’t resist the pull. Once they’ve been tapped, the attention is too strong of a lure.”

“Maybe,” she said, taking a sip of the rich, spicy wine. She tried to let go of some of the tension of the day while she pictured Walker’s face as he talked about running for president. “He wants it. What politician wouldn’t? But I meant it when I said he was careful. I expected a dressed-up, spoiled, pretty boy playing with his daddy’s money, especially given the meeting location. He was more than I expected.”

Justin took a swallow of his beer, watching her intently. “Can he win?”

“If he wants to? Absolutely. He’s a natural. The once-in-a-decade kind. He can win.” She tried to contain her excitement. It had been building since she got on the plane in Columbia. Since she left the Governor’s Mansion, if she was being honest. Walker could win the highest office in the country, and she could manage his campaign.

Justin grinned at her from across the table. She should have known better than to think she could hide her feelings from him. He’d worked with her on almost a half-dozen campaigns—first as an aide and then as her right hand—but they’d been friends since college. He knew her better than her family.

“You think this guy’s the real thing,” he said, nodding his head. “You want this one.”

Her breath caught for a fraction of a second before she realized he was talking about the campaign and not the man. It took her another moment to give herself the remedial reminder that a candidate could never be more. Hero worship and schoolgirl crushes were rookie mistakes. Ones she refused to make.

“I do,” she said, taking another sip of her wine.

“His father’s awful. I’m not sure he even knows what century we’re in.”

“He’s worse in person. He’s got that silver fox thing going, but he can’t keep his hands to himself. I’d bet money he’s worked his way through a string of secretaries over the years—all of them too young to be his daughter.”

“He’s run for governor twice, though, and the Senate before that. He should have been vetted by now.”

“By the people of South Carolina. The national press corps is something else entirely. I don’t think it will hurt our Walker,” she said, taking another sip of her wine so she could blame the way her cheeks flushed on the alcohol and not the stupid
our
. “It’s early days, but I don’t think anyone in the family is going to be trouble.”

“The other son—Anderson—parties hard, but if he’s done anything dodgy, nothing’s stuck to him. And Walker’s sister is practically invisible.”

“We can start digging after he hires us.” Haven sipped her wine and leaned back in her chair. Maybe if she pretended to relax, she might actually be able to. “Tell me about Ethan. If we’re eating red meat in the Clinton era, it must be serious.”

Instead of the
fuck off
she’d expected from Justin, he smiled. That as much as anything showed how serious he was about the new guy. Her friend was monogamous and loyal to a fault. She hoped he’d finally found a man worthy of him.

Justin glanced down at his watch. They’d given themselves an extra half hour before Ethan arrived so they could catch up on the business of the day, but they had to be getting close by now.

“I told you he’s a lawyer. Chesterfield and Enson.”

Haven nodded. The firm was well known and even better respected, but a lawyer was still a lawyer.

“He predominately handles criminal cases. He’s an idealist.” Justin’s expression softened and Haven fought the urge to roll her eyes.

“How does he reconcile that with having to defend guilty clients?” she asked, hating to burst her friend’s bubble but not as much as she’d hate picking up the pieces when he got his heart broken.

“Everyone is entitled to a fair defense under the law. He’s a patriot.”

Haven couldn’t stifle her laugh, and Justin had the decency to look sheepish. “Fine. He’s a lawyer,” he said, clearly capitulating. “But he’s a good one. He gets along with his family, pays his bills on time, and he’s good to me.” He looked at her as he said the last part, and she could see in his eyes he meant what he said. Hopefully his praise was deserved. “I like him. A lot.”

“Then I’m sure I will too.” She raised her glass to her lips and saw Justin’s eyes go wide. She’d just managed to swallow as she glanced over her shoulder, expecting to see the infamous Ethan headed for their table. Instead, William Shepherd Walker moved through the dining room, touching shoulders and shaking hands as he closed the distance between them. He caught her gaze and made a beeline toward them while she tried to ignore the pull on her solar plexus that seemed to happen whenever they were in the same room together.

“Haven, it’s good to see you again so soon,” he said, reaching for a hand she hadn’t offered him. He caught her right hand in both of his, and his fingers were warm and strong.

“Walker,” she said when she found her breath. “This is a surprise.”

“I have to be back on the Hill for a committee meeting in the morning. There wasn’t a reason for me to stay in South Carolina,” he said, holding her gaze even as he let go of her hand.

She smoothed the napkin on her lap and tried to pretend she didn’t miss the warmth of his touch. She had to get a grip on herself or she’d end up like his assistant Abby. Renfield to his Dracula.

“You must be Justin.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Senator,” said Justin, taking the offered hand.

“The pleasure’s mine. I’m anxious to get started planning the campaign.”

“You’ve decided?” asked Haven, pitching her voice low so it wouldn’t carry beyond their table.

“We still have to iron out the details to both of our benefits, of course. I’m going to run,” he said and a thrill that had nothing to do with politics ran through her.

“Then we’ll make sure you win,” she said.

She should be able to resist the cocky bastard. He’d been born with more than a silver spoon in his mouth. His family was political royalty, and he was the crown prince. But watching the curve of his chiseled lips and staring into the eyes that made her feel like the most important person in the room, Haven was as charmed as everyone else who met the senator from South Carolina.

“I believe I’m going to enjoy working together,” he said, his melted honey voice promising so much more than bad hotels and rubber chicken dinners on the campaign trail.

“Would you like to join us?” asked Justin, since she seemed to briefly have lost the power of speech.

“No, thank you. My table’s waiting. I’ll leave you to your dinner. Travis will be in touch.”

And then he was gone, leaving a trace of expensive aftershave and power behind. Haven pressed her lips together and fought to keep from sucking in a breath.

“Mother of God,” said Justin, collapsing back in his chair after Walker left. “The women are going to leave their panties at the polls.”

“It’s his super power,” she said when she could breathe again.

“How did he know we’d be here?”

“I mentioned it when I left his father’s office,” she said, thinking back to the casual remark.

“He got a table at Key on a four-hour notice? That’s just showing off.”

She nodded. “It’s the name.”

“It’s more than that,” said Justin, his gaze still following the direction Walker had gone.

“We’re running for president,” she said, latching on to the most important thing.

“Yes, we are,” said Justin, his grin meeting hers.

“I
NEED YOU TO STOP bullshitting me,” said Haven, running a hand through her light-brown hair and wondering if she’d have any left by the time she finished with the senator. She’d never wanted to throttle another human more and yanking on her hair kept her from giving into the impulse.

“I told you, there isn’t anything.” Shepherd looked as cool and in control as he had when they’d entered his Georgetown apartment almost an hour ago.

Even his shirt still looked pressed and that was after he’d spent all day on the Hill lobbying across the aisle for support of inheritance tax reform. Critics would accuse him of protecting his own interests, and he hadn’t done much to dissuade them. Although, with the legions of Walker tax attorneys, she doubted there was a loophole they hadn’t already taken advantage of. She’d watched the senator argue with a surprising amount of passion for generational farms and the burden the inheritance tax could place on surviving family members, often leaving them with no choice but to sell off chunks of the farm that had been in their family for generations to offset the tax liability.

By the time he finished, he’d changed her mind, and the opposition had softened, if not completely capitulated. He’d seemed almost noble, and her opinion about the senator had warmed considerably. He surprised her. Every time she thought she had him figured out, he showed her a side of himself she hadn’t been expecting. Of course, that was before they cloistered themselves off in his bachelor apartment with a six-pack and Vietnamese takeout, and he started to lie to her.

“Shepherd Walker,” she said, leaving the
you arrogant asshole
implied. “Every person on the planet has skeletons in their closet and elected officials tend to have twice as many as the rest of us mere mortals. If you want me to help you become president, then you have got to tell me what yours are before they come back to bite us in the ass in the middle of the campaign. There isn’t anything you can tell me that I can’t deal with, but I can’t control the news cycle if I don’t know what’s out there to begin with. Stop fucking around and just spill already.”

She took a swallow of her beer and waited, but the man across the table from her looked completely unruffled. These interviews were never pleasant. No one wanted to willingly share the questionable, immoral, or even illegal things they’d done, but politicians, especially seasoned ones, generally understood that things didn’t stay buried long once the press started digging and it was better to get ahead of the news cycle than be at its mercy.

One or two drinks and eventually they all talked, trading their confessions for the assurance that Haven could take their dirty laundry and wash it clean again. Or at the very least spin it so it read as a learning experience instead of the base debauchery it actually was. She’d taken Senator Anderson’s addiction to prescription painkillers and turned it and his recovery into a referendum on the perils of substance abuse. The voters ate it up, seeing the future senator as flawed and human but not disqualified. She could work with whatever Walker gave her. What she couldn’t do was accept that nothing in his past embarrassed him. That he’d never done anything illegal, borderline or not. She simply wasn’t buying it.

“What are you waiting for me to say? I was an Eagle Scout. Literally. I did the stupid stuff that all teenagers do, but nothing anyone would care about.”

“Fine,” she said, not believing him and losing a bit more of the admiration he’d cultivated earlier every time he denied he had anything to hide. “Start with something nobody would care about. When was the first time you had a drink?”