Fuck.
Me.
Yeah, I can see her doing that, too. Probably winning. Seems like all the rumors I’ve been hearing lately are correct.
I take a slow, deep breath and force myself not to react.
“Congratulations,” Owen says. “But what does that have to do with your visit today?”
“I wanted to know if you want on the ticket. Give you right of first refusal, so to speak.”
Owen scowls. “Me?” My boy is adorably clueless sometimes, and I can still see hints of the college kid who was terrified of his own shadow.
“Yes, you. You’re a long-shot who won by a landslide. Twice. Not counting your other offices.” She glances my way again before focusing on Owen. “You obviously know your ground game. You’re popular. It looks like Ms. Evans is going to win her race. Veep like you would grab a large demographic from a wide variety of areas. Midwest, fiscal conservatives, progressive environmentalists, moderates—and more than a goodly chunk of Democrats. We could do big things.” She smiles. “And eight years later, I’d back your run, of course.”
“Senator, I’m flattered, truly I am. And you can count on my public support for your campaign. Even stumping for you. Except, for starters, I’m an Independent, not a Democrat. Secondly, once I leave office, I’mdone. I’ve achieved all I set out to accomplish. I have no higher aspirations than to go back to practicing law, and being a full-time godfather to Pete and Tom.”
Dammit. My boy doesn’t often make me cry, but when he hits exactly the right weak spot in me, it threatens to unman me in front of this woman.
She tips her head and studies him. “You don’t even want to run for the Senate? I figured in two years you’d be asking for my support. I’ve heard rumors you were going to run.”
He shakes his head. “You’ve heard wrongly, or just wishful thinking from some people. Besides, my personal life has taken enough of a hit over the past eight-plus years. I’m ready to be out of the spotlight, and so is my partner.”
I silently groan.
Ireallywish he hadn’t said that. I mean, I getwhy, because Samuels is single and reportedly a man-eater, and Owen’s trying to nip any potential shit in the bud now.
She scowls. “I didn’t realize you had a…partner.”
“I do. And they didn’t ask to be in the spotlight. So I’ve literally moved Heaven and Hell to keep them out of the spotlight.”
“She’s a very lucky woman. Or he’s a lucky fellow?”
Owen laughs. “Nice try, Senator, but no. I won’t divulge even that much. I made a promise to them that I intend to keep.”
Now she focuses on me, even though her comments are for Owen. “I haven’t heard any rumors about you being attached.”
“That’s because Carter is the best there is at his job. He keeps our ship running smoothly and leak-free.”
Her gaze narrows just a hair, and I sense the calculations spinning through her mind at warp speed. “Youwant a job?” she asks. “I’m going to need comms, and a campaign manager. Either one could be yours. Could mean chief of staff once we’re in, or press secretary. Your choice.”
It’s…intriguing. I won’t lie that, for just a second, I could see myself standing in the Oval Office and running through the morning briefing with her as POTUS.
But without taking my focus off her, I can see Owen in my peripheral vision. My boy will say yes to whatever I ask of him, no matter at what cost to himself.
He’s proven that time and again.
I’ve asked enough of him for one lifetime, and we still have—most likely—eight more years to go.
At least.
Because once we’re done in Tallahassee, I’m sure Susa’s going to go gunning for this woman’s job.
No matter my own aspirations, my first priority has always been Owen.
Always.
Promises to keep.
