16
Hunter
“There’s the big bad billionaire.”
Karen looked just as I’d remembered her—same dyed blond hair, same high street fashion.
“You don’t look like you’ve changed a bit,” the lawyer purred, sashaying into my campaign headquarters, or at least an attempt was made. She, like many women from Manhattan, was quite thin and didn’t have much in the trunk. Not like Meg.
“Same muscular build,” she continued, “same broad shoulders, same expensive suit.” She let her hands drift down my suit jacket lapels, trailing her fingers down my arm to my wrist. “Same watch, same hands.”
I wanted to draw away from her, but part of convincing Meg to finally be with me once and for all was making her believe that there was something between Karen and me.
“You know,” Karen said, “I had just assumed that you and Meg had moved back to your small hometown to be small-town sweethearts together. I would have thought you would have had a bunch of kids by now. Imagine my surprise when I saw you front and center on the tabloids with that underwear model.”
“Yes,” I said, trying to sound unaffected by her vision of my ideal future with Meg. “Unfortunately, while the models and socialites are pretty arm candy, you cannot have an intellectual conversation with them about anything, really, let alone about the specifics of law.”
Karen smirked. “Good thing I’m here to help.” She grabbed my arm. “I heard about your campaign to be mayor,” she said as we walked onto the sidewalk. “And I do have a few suggestions. Maybe we can discuss them over dinner?”
“I was hoping you’d say that,” I said with a small smile as I opened the passenger door of my sports car for her. “You see, I have a proposition for you.”
* * *
The restaurant wasbusy when we arrived.
“Twenty-minute wait,” the hostess said. I peered at her.
“Hi, Minnie.”
Meg’s younger sister shot me a dirty look. “For lying, cheating scumbags, the wait is forty minutes.”
I blew out a breath.
“I guess we can talk here,” I told Karen as Minnie seated other patrons.
“Do you have any interest in becoming my campaign manager? It would just be for the next few weeks until the election was over,” I asked.
“I’d be glad to!” Karen said.
“I don’t know if you’d be able to do it around your other job.”
“I’m in between jobs at the moment,” she admitted.
“You’re not at Harrington Thurlow anymore?”
“No, I’ve been looking for a change of pace, actually. I was thinking about applying for a corporate lawyer position in Seattle.”
“I don’t know if you’d like Seattle,” I said with a frown. My traitorous half brothers lived there. Salinger and his ilk never even showed up for Christmas, let alone helped at all with our younger brothers. “It rains all the time, and it’s gloomy.”
“With all that blond hair and gray eyes,” Karen teased, pressing her palm lightly against my chest, “you’d fit right in, I would think!” She held eye contact for a beat too long for someone only wanting a job as a campaign manager. “Anyway,” she said, taking out her notepad, “I did have some ideas now that I’m officially your campaign manager. First off, we have to plan several splashy campaign events. It’s good for fundraising and building support.”
“I don’t need fundraising,” I told her.
“Oh, you billionaires!” she said with a laugh.
I glanced over at the hostess station. Minnie was seating a couple who had clearly arrived after Karen and me.
I shifted my weight. “What kinds of events were you thinking?”
