“What’d the governor say when you told him about Slittery?” I asked, wrenching my eyes from Ben’s face so I could focus. After our run-in with Slittery at the town hall, we’d both immediately informed our bosses the oilman was gunning for us.
“He told me it was unsurprising, that Slittery is slippery, and that we’d better find a way to outmaneuver him.” He ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “Or something like that. He’s been really distracted lately. I can barely get him to focus on work.”
“Same with Dakota,” I said. “Except she’s launching the Herschel motor, so at least she has an excuse. Damn. Now is not the time for them to lose track. We’ve got to bear down or we’ll lose.”
“Trust me, I know. But I think whether this bill lives or dies is on our shoulders now. I just wish I could figure out some way to get around Slittery.”
We’d spent a whirlwind night talking to everyone we could—state reps, comptrollers and chiefs of staff, but also analysts, aides and even a few interns. We would leave no stone unturned in the mission to rescue the Green Machine.
Ben and I had tried to make the million small-talk conversations fun for ourselves by seeing who could most creatively segue into mentioning the bill. After our last conversation dragged on for too long without an opening, I’d desperately seized on the next conversational turn—a bit of gossip from the attorney general’s spokeswoman about a rogue state’s attorney who’d been caught red-handed visiting a prostitute. In a few short moves, I made some frankly stunning verbal leaps from the need to legalize sex work to other forward-thinking bills I’d love to see pass in the legislature, including this upcoming bill called the Green Machine—had they heard of it?
I could actually see Ben’s panic unfolding in real time as I jumped dizzyingly from topic to topic. But hey, I’d managed to memorably work in the billandcut the boring conversation short, so win-win.
I knew Ben was right about the bill’s fate resting on us now. We’d arrived at the Governor’s Mansion in a big group tonight, but they’d promptly abandoned us. There was Wendy and her husband, Cody, a big bear of a mechanic with tattoo sleeves and a heart of gold. Exacting, perfect Wendy and laid-back, easygoing Cody were an extreme opposites-attract situation that not-so-secretly delighted me—much to Wendy’s annoyance, as she did not approve of anyone getting overly familiar with, or attached to, their colleagues. Wendy had a lineup of people she said she needed to introduce herself to ahead of the Herschel launch. She’d gone so far as to print a tightly paced networking schedule to keep herself on track; and, needless to say, it did not have Ben’s and my names on it.
In the category of people who were as soft as Wendy was sharp, Dakota had brought her husband, George, who absolutely beamed on her arm. He always loved an excuse to dress up and take the night off from watching the kids, and tonight was no exception—he seemed almost as excited about the Governor’s Ball as I was. Seeing his tanned face and blinding white smile made me realize just how long it had been since I’d seen him. Before the campaign, Dakota used to bring her husband to work events all the time.
George had squeezed me in a hug and asked me what was new in Lee-land—he loved to sigh wistfully as I described going out to restaurants at 9:00 p.m. and lounging all day in pajamas, things he couldn’t do with two young kids—when Dakota yanked him in the direction of Governor Mane. I’d spotted them with the governor’s coterie of friends—who, judging by the size of their shoulders, I suspected were mostly former Longhorn players and not the political operatives it would have been more useful for Dakota to hobnob with. Worse than that, poor George was relegated to the edge of the circle, looking left out and supremely bored. I’d have to check in on him later.
Lastly, there was Alexis, whom I’d brought as my date. She’d finally opened up to the idea of a new boyfriend, and I’d thought, what better than to give her access to the sizzling buffet of eligible, well-connected men at the Governor’s Ball? She and I shared the same genetics, so I knew she was biologically predisposed to finding an open bar and men in tuxedos irresistible.
However, Alexis heard Ben’s and my plans to spend the night networking, took one glance at the crowd of young aides by the bar and promptly left us for greener pastures.
All in all, that left Ben and me to do the schmoozing on the Green Machine. But it was fine. The bill was my baby, and this was obviously a test for my future job as vice president of public affairs.
I scanned the crowd, searching for Alexis, when my eyes caught on a blonde woman in a scarlet gown cutting through Slittery’s circle. As I watched, Slittery greeted her with a familiar kiss on the cheek.
My veins turned to ice.Sarah.
“Uh,” I said eloquently, turning to warn Ben. But he’d already spotted her.
He shrugged. “It was bound to happen. We run in the same circles.”
“That’s very nonchalant of you.” I lowered my voice. “Does she know...?”
He grinned rather wickedly. “Know what?”
I leaned in and felt Ben’s hand come to rest on the small of my back, where my dress gathered in a low V, his fingers warm against my bare skin.
“About...us.” Well done, Stoner. Leave it vague.
Ben’s thumb absently stroked my spine. “No. I figured that was my business.”
I looked back to where Sarah stood smiling, not realizing she was being watched. Sure, she was a mercenary lobbyist, willing to hitch her wagon to whatever project got her paid,includingthe Lonestar pipeline, and I did not respect that. But the truth was, I’d thought about Ben over and over while they were dating. Which meant I’d committed grievous thought-crimes against her. And even though thought-crimes were less serious than many of the other crimes I’d committed, I felt strangely, inconveniently guilty.
Abruptly, Sarah’s eyes flicked to Ben. And then to me. Oh. Right. Because we were physically connected. Ben yanked his hand off my back, but not before Sarah’s eyes darkened.
“What’re you two talking about?” Wendy asked, popping up out of nowhere, Cody on her arm, George trailing them.
Ben and I jumped a solid foot apart. Our first work outing as two-people-who-were-physically-attracted-to-each-other-but-harbored-no-feelings, and we were practically giving ourselves away left and right. Wendy, it went without saying, wouldmurder usif she suspected there was even the tiniest hint of impropriety that could cast a shadow over the campaign.
“Just, uh, talking about how much we despise Old Moneybags over there.” I nodded in the direction of the bar.
“Ah, yes.” Wendy’s eyes narrowed, and she elbowed her husband. “That man at the bar is the one trying to kill our bill. He’s an oil tycoon who knows his time’s up, so he’s getting in bed with every politician who will take his money. Kicking and screaming just to hold off the inevitable.” Her voice darkened.“Samuel Slittery.”
“More like SamuelSlag-ery, if you ask me,” Cody said, and I mentally added supportive quips to my list of reasons to stan.
“That’s the man Dakota thinks pays people to harass her online.” George’s chest puffed out. “I should have words with him.”
