by Ava Miles
But she knew that it was important to him, and she wanted to show her support.
Even if it made her want to hurl.
It was also his biggest event to date. About two hundred people were present, and people kept glancing at her. Yes, she wanted to say, that’s my boyfriend, the guy running in the mayoral primary next month.
Speculation about her was rampant, and all of the hushed voices circulating in the room made her feel as though she were back in high school with her mother sitting beside her, smiling fakely as they waited for her father to step onstage and deliver his speech.
Jill was going to introduce Matt tonight, and Jane knew that meant a lot to him. The rest of his family was here as well, including his Uncle Arthur, who had given her a brief wave as he walked by.
Jane was sitting in the back row in the corner, out of the way. Not with his family. Could she leave without anyone noticing?
She’d sworn she’d never attend another political event in her life, and yet here she was.
When he stepped on stage after Jill’s funny, yet warm introduction, she knew why.
This man made her heart pound in her chest like no other.
His opener was a funny story about Jill from their childhood. She’d demanded an allowance from her parents after hearing that other kids at school had them. When her parents refused, she gave Matt a quarter and asked him to represent her since even though he was just in high school, everyone already knew he wanted to be a lawyer. The crowd laughed, and Jane could see the charisma in him.
He had the magic, intangible “thing” the political machines looked for.
If he won this primary—and at the moment, he was leading—he was going to make a competitive candidate. So far Horace Henklemeyer hadn’t inspired much confidence, although his mother was still spouting off nonsense about Matt around town.
Hearing Matt tell the story about how he’d come back to Dare brought tears to her eyes. She knew he’d probably told it a hundred times to different groups, but it didn’t sound rehearsed. There was a part of Matt that was still visibly haunted by losing Patricia’s case, and she expected it would never go away.
She hadn’t heard him spell out his platform in public before, and she admired the way he weaved it into stories he’d heard from others in town. Matt even mentioned them by name and nodded to them in the audience.
Impressed, Jane glanced at Rob in the corner of the room. She hadn’t met him, but she knew what a political consultant looked like, even if he wasn’t the only person in the room wearing a three-thousand-dollar tailored suit. The man clearly knew what he was doing, she had to admit. That speech-writing style was classic. It personalized candidates in a way no facts or figures ever could.
Her heart swelled with pride.
God, Matt was so good at this.
Then her mind flashed to an image of her up there with him at the end of the speech, smiling for the cameras, and she fisted her hands in her lap.
An older woman came in late and sat across the aisle from her. The speech was nearing completion, and Jane wondered why a newcomer had even bothered to come. But she was elderly. Perhaps she had gotten the time wrong. Then Jane recognized the pinched mouth and angry gaze as belonging to Florence Henklemeyer.
Her stomach turned over.
People wildly applauded when Matt finished his remarks, and then they moved on to questions. One after another, members of the audience asked him about everything from his views on Dare’s schools and what could be done to improve them to the ongoing potholes on Route 9 heading out of town. When he had an answer, he gave one. When he didn’t, he told the questioner he’d look into it, asking the person to provide his or her name and phone number at the end of the town hall meeting. More often than not, he had an answer, but she liked that he was honest.
When he called for any last questions, the older woman sitting across from her rose. Since Jane was good at reading people—especially Matt—she noticed the facial muscles of his smile tense for a moment.
“Florence, do you have a question? I would have thought you’d be with Horace, helping him put up signs next to mine around town.”
Some people laughed. Everyone craned their necks and glanced at the back of the room, where she stood all stiff and haughty.
“That’s why I came in late,” she threw back.
Nervous laughter spread throughout the crowd.
“I’m glad to hear it,” Matt responded, not missing a beat. “Now, do you have a question? If you’re interested in tonight’s presentation, we’ll be sending out the minutes to everyone on my mailing list. I’d be happy to take your information.”
The banter caused more laughter, but even Jane could feel the change in the room. She’d seen it happen many times before. There was an edge now, one of political opposition.
Things were about to get ugly.
“Yes, I do, and it so happens the focus of my question is sitting right across from me.”
It took Jane a moment to realize she was speaking about her. And then Florence actually pointed at her to underscore her point.
“I wanted to ask if you could tell us a little more about your girlfriend’s work at The Grand Mountain Hotel. As you may not know, since you didn’t live here at the time, I opposed the hotel before the town council approved it, fearing it would bring the evils of gambling, sex, and drink to our town.”
If Jane hadn’t felt like a specimen under a microscope, she might have laughed out loud. Sex and alcohol had been in Dare Valley long before the establishment of the hotel.
But this was her worst nightmare coming to light. Keeping a poker face was essential. Matt’s had slipped. He was frowning now, and Jane prayed he would keep his cool.
“I had heard about your opposition to the hotel,” he responded, “and you’re well entitled to your opinions. As for my girlfriend, she’s not the one running in the mayoral primary. I am. And that’s where the buck stops.”
Florence looked over at her, and like a villain in a Disney movie, her smile was now an eerie sneer. “But no one at the hotel remembers seeing her working there in a…professional capacity. It’s almost like she went to work every day and disappeared. It makes this old lady wonder…”
The audience stared at Jane, most of them sitting almost sideways in their seats now.
Her gaze met Matt’s, and she had to fight to keep her lips from trembling.
“I’m not sure what you’re implying, but this isn’t a topic I plan on engaging in with you. My campaign is about the Dare Valley citizens and the issues we all care about. I don’t plan on running a negative campaign, and I hope you and your son will choose the same policy. Thank you for coming, everyone. If you were too shy to ask a question earlier, I plan on staying around to talk to people. Please come up and introduce yourself. And have some of the wonderful baked goods made by my lovely volunteers. Good night.”
He walked into the crowd, shaking people’s hands. Jane instantly rose and picked up her purse. Coming here had been a bad idea.
Florence appeared at her side. “I know you were up to something. You’re a bad seed, working for that hotel, working for poker players. I’ve heard you used to live in Sin City.”
“Mrs. Henklemeyer. We haven’t officially met,” she said, extending her hand. “I’m Jane Wilcox.”
Her old political acumen came back to her. She’d long ago become accustomed to shaking hands with people who hated her because of her father. Who made mean comments about her flat chest. Or called her a smarty pants. The negative comments had run the gamut.
The woman hadn’t expected friendliness from her, and she faltered a moment before taking Jane’s hand in her limp grasp.
“I’m also from a small town like Dare Valley,” she continued. “My father is a state senator who has served his community faithfully for almost thirty years. I graduated from Harvard with an MBA, and I also respect and admire Mac Maven and Rhett Butler for being men of integrity as well as incredible profe
ssional poker players. Thanks again for coming tonight.”
And she walked to the front, praying her cheeks weren’t flushed. Inside she was burning. The campaign had changed.
She’d been dragged in as the dirt.
Nothing was going to be easy or civil between the candidates from now on.
People wandered past her in the opposite direction, staring, and she smiled and nodded as they passed.
Matt was talking to an older man when he spotted her, and he shook the man’s hand suddenly, pointed to her, and strode off. When he reached her, he grabbed her to him.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered into her ear.
She clutched him before pulling back. “You did great! I’m so proud of you.”
His eyes narrowed a fraction, and then he pasted a smile on his face. “Thanks. It hit a rocky patch at the end, but I think we came out okay. Don’t you, Uncle Arthur?”
When Jane looked over her shoulder, she noticed Matt’s family was now behind her. Andy held a serious-faced Danny in his arms. April circled Matt to pull Jane into a hug, clucking under her tongue.
“That woman!”
“Mom,” Matt whispered.
“She’s a total bitch,” Jill huffed out. “Right, Mere?”
“Little ears,” Andy chided as Meredith nodded.
“Sorry, Andy,” Jill said. “I’m only—”
“Not here, ladies. Please,” Jane told them, but with a smile.
“Let’s go ahead and thank the volunteers, Matt, and help everyone clean up,” Jane said, and with those words, it was as though she had fallen back into the old life, the one she’d run from.
He took her arm. “Why don’t you head on home? I’ll swing by in a bit.”
Everything inside her felt wooden. “No, I’m happy to stay.” She spotted the Easter Brigade talking to some people by the baked goods they’d made. “I’ll have to ask Mabel what I should try. I’m sure she makes good cookies.”
God, she was about ready to choke.
Matt’s face tensed, but she pulled her arm away and headed off without another word.
The wooden feeling didn’t go away. Not after thirty minutes of sunny small talk with Matt’s volunteers.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, someone came up to her and put an arm around her shoulders. She turned to look at Matt’s Uncle Arthur.
“Come on, little missy,” he said. “You can take me home.”
They made their goodbyes, Matt fighting to keep a smile on his face now.
“I’ll be by in a bit,” he said and kissed her cheek.
It was hard to mistake the narrowed gaze Matt’s political advisor sent her way. Yeah, he knew they were in for a world of hurt going forward. Well, she would see his uncle home and strategize later. Matt would need a new plan.
“Meredith and Tanner brought me,” Arthur said as they walked to her SUV, “but I figured it might be nice for us to talk on the short ride to my house.” He gave her directions, which would fortunately be easy enough to follow.
He didn’t mince words once they were buckled in. “Florence is a nuisance, but she’s sharp as a tack. Mean too. You might want to talk to Rhett and Elizabeth about this situation. Mac too. Florence will be looking for information on what you did at the hotel. What will she find?”
Jane studied the road. “I can’t say. We were obviously careful. Mac runs a tight ship.”
“Might be good to check on that. I don’t play favorites when it comes to elections in Dare Valley, but Matt’s my great-nephew and I respect Mac and Rhett and their families. I think you should prepare for the worst. Florence isn’t above making things up if she doesn’t find anything.”
Her mind was already spinning scenarios, running through the campaign’s options. “We need to pre-empt it.” That was the only other way she knew to avert disaster.
But the risk…
“Go on the offensive,” Arthur said and whistled. “Not sure how this town will feel about it.”
“Perhaps it’s not a question of them believing I was Raven, a poker babe.”
“What do you mean?” his uncle asked.
“If we tell them I’m Raven, they’ll think I’m a slut, right? Or worse?”
The earthquake in her stomach registered at 7.0 on the Richter scale.
Arthur sighed. “I’m afraid so. You’ll look like the fallen daughter of a politician. Or a party girl.”
Her mind conjured up other politician’s daughters who’d disgraced their fathers and their families that way.
“What if we told them I’m Rhett’s poker scout?” It would be explosive to his rep, but Rhett could handle the heat. Could Elizabeth?
“No one will believe you were just a poker scout wearing those outfits.”
She slammed her hand against the steering wheel, feeling the trap she’d built closing in on her. He was right. No one would believe that. Not even with her Harvard MBA and the foundation she ran for women’s education.
“What if I showed that I was a true poker player?” she asked, turning onto his street. “As good as Rhett and Mac? Would that convince them?”
He made a humming voice. “It would help. People would see there was more to you than those outfits.”
“We could say it was like training, and that my ambition was always to play poker with the big boys.”
“Is that true? Can you really play at that level?” his uncle asked as they drove down his lane.
She turned in her seat when they stopped in his driveway. “I don’t know for sure. We’re about to find out.”
Chapter 36
Matt checked his watch for the second time. Since it was late, Rob was going to stay over at his house. But after that stunt Florence Henklemeyer had pulled, he wasn’t about to leave Jane alone tonight.
“Look,” he said to his friend, “I know you’re concerned. As I’ve told you a million times, I can’t talk about what Jane did at the hotel or before that without her permission.”
“Great! I feel so reassured,” Rob said, loosening his tie even further so that it hung loosely now around his neck like a noose.
“I love her. I’m sticking with her. Trust me. We’ll weather this.”
They had to. He couldn’t bear to see her become the perfectly wooden politician’s daughter again.
“It’s going to get ugly, Matt,” Rob said. “I’ve seen plenty of opponents like Florence Henklemeyer in the past, and she’s going to go for the jugular. If you’re not open about Jane’s past, people are going to start asking questions, and if your answers don’t satisfy, they’ll start to doubt you.”
“Then let them. I don’t want her dragged into this, and I won’t answer questions about my girlfriend.”
He realized he’d totally lost his cool and was speaking louder than usual. Hell. Good thing he’d crated Henry as soon as he got home. Otherwise, his outburst would have garnered a reaction from him.
A knock sounded on the door, and he rose to answer it. He wondered if it was his brother. His cell phone had been ringing nonstop since he got home with Rob, but he figured he could talk to his family later. Right now, it was more important for him to focus on this powwow with his friend and political consultant.
When he opened the door, he was surprised to see Jane.
“Hey,” he said, pulling her to him and holding her tight. “I’m sorry for taking so long. Did you call me? I was going to come over after wrapping things up with Rob.”
When she pulled back, she patted his chest. “I expect Rob might have quite a bit to say. Rob, I think it’s time we officially met. I’m Jane Wilcox, and as you saw tonight, I’ve just become a liability to Matt’s campaign.”
“Dammit!” Matt said, watching them shake hands. “Stop that talk right now.”
“I like her already, Matt,” Rob said, finally tugging off his red- and white-striped silk tie and stuffing it into the pocket of his navy jacket. “She’s a politician’s daughter. Of course she knows the score.”
Matt did a double-take. “Ah…yes.”
“Why don’t you boys grab a beer? We need to talk.”
This take-charge version of Jane was new to him. She was in her element. Matt could almost see her in a conservative blue suit jacket and skirt, smiling woodenly for the cameras.
“There’s nothing to talk about,” Matt said. “We move forward. That’s it.”
Jane extended a hand to Rob. “Let’s get those drinks, shall we?”
What was she? The First Lady now? “Dammit, Jane! I said there’s nothing to discuss.”
They ignored him and disappeared into the kitchen. He shrugged out of his own navy suit jacket. He’d discarded the tie Rob had selected as soon as he got home. When they emerged, Jane was carrying a glass of red wine and a beer for him. Rob was smiling in that shark-lawyer way he had when he thought he’d finally turned a hostile witness.
He believed Jane was on his side.
Well, they were both going to find out otherwise.
“You’re not breaking things off with me,” Matt growled when she handed him his beer.
“No, I’m not.”
“God, I’m tired,” Rob said, falling onto the couch. “Here I thought this campaign was going to be so easy. A small town. A squeaky-clean candidate.”
“Rob, would you give me your assessment of tonight?” she asked, sitting next to him. “From start to finish.”
Matt finally flopped onto the couch too, giving into the inevitable. “He already gave it to me.”
“I’d like to hear it,” she smoothly responded. “If that’s all right.”
Rob took a swig of his microbrew and then did as she’d asked.
“I don’t have to tell you how troublesome Florence Henklemeyer is going to be. It’s one thing to take down another candidate’s signs but quite another to go after a candidate’s girlfriend at his own town hall meeting. She can do it because she’s not running.”
“Yes,” Jane agreed, sipping her wine. “And I don’t think she’s going to stop, despite what I told her after you finished speaking.”
