The Phoenix Candidate(69)
I nod quickly. “While I’d be honored to join your ticket, I can’t. I don’t think we’re a good match, Shep. There are some things about me that I’m willing to change, like the cosmetic things Jared’s coached me on the last several weeks. But you have to know that my core principles are unchanging. I can’t fall in line with your platform.”
“You can’t or you won’t?” Conover’s brows knit, giving me his complete focus.
“Both. I believe in my bills, and my own platform. We’re not too far apart on most issues, but I’m just not going to soft-pedal my unpopular stuff like gun control and environmental legislation to get elected. I can’t and I won’t. I’m a congresswoman first, Shep, which makes me a pretty lousy running mate.”
Shep sits back in his chair, pursing his mouth thoughtfully. “If you didn’t come here to be my running mate, why are you here?”
It’s an echo of Jared’s question, and even the timbre of their deep voices match. “I’m here to volunteer. I want you to win almost as much as I want Darrow to lose.”
“Almost as much?” Shep repeats, laughing. “That’s damning me with faint praise.”
“I can’t apologize for that. I’m more loyal to my principles and my constituents than I am to you. I’m loyal to my purpose in Congress.”
Shep nods once. “Good to know where your loyalties lie.” He stands, extends his hand to shake. “Thank you for that, Grace.”
“Thank you, Senator.” I stare at my shoes, wondering if he’s going to let me stay and volunteer for a couple of days. I feel like it’s the least I can do.
“So I’d still like us to work together to win the White House,” Shep says. I lift my face in surprise. “What if I gave you certain issues to lead? Gun control, environmental legislation, and capital gains. I know those are your hot buttons—would you be open to taking another crack at our platform, fleshing them out?”
“Our platform?”
He looks at Jared, then back at me. “Let’s make it ours. Couple of things to get out of the way, though. First of all, Darrow. You done with talking to that bastard?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Can’t trust him.” Conover glances at Jared. “Ask Rankin. He’s been stung by the Darrows before.”
I realize there’s more to his history with Lauren and Aaron Darrow than she disclosed. And I believed her. Not him.
Maybe stupid isn’t too far off the money where I’m concerned.
“How about Jared? You done with this bastard?”
I look at Jared, his eyes sad and drawn. No crinkles. Just chocolate-brown irises that plead with me in this moment.
“Not by a long shot, Shep.”
“Good. Because you can trust him. I trust him completely. And you’ve got to, if you want to run with me.”
“I will.”
“Fine. Keep your hands off each other until you’re behind closed doors. I know you’re both consenting adults, but let’s not scare the children. Got it?”
I blush crimson and both Jared and I nod obediently.
“Fine. Then we’re going to convention. We’ll do the endorsement announcement in a few days—we don’t need to pile on the news cycle from yesterday. You’ve got a speech to learn, a bunch of press to get through, and a relationship to make right.”
Shep gives both of us a hard look. “Don’t mess it up again.”
Chapter Forty-One
Jared drives like a maniac.
He dragged me out of the campaign office and into his truck so fast I didn’t even get a chance to grab a volunteer T-shirt. I barely managed to remember my suitcase.
And now he jets down the freeway at positively illegal speeds, his hand clutching mine except when he drops it occasionally to shift. We drive out of the city, into green and more green, and nearly an hour has passed when I see patches of water intermittently through the trees.
A sign announces Table Rock Lake, and we pass the What’s Up Dock. Cute. Jared turns off the road abruptly onto a narrow gravel drive, bumping us along toward a pale yellow farmhouse with a broad porch that spreads like a skirt around it.
“Where are we?”
“Kimberling City. Well, outside it a bit.”
We’re in rural southern Missouri and I am truly lost, with nothing about this place resembling a city.
I get out of the car and walk toward the house, breathing in the sweet smell of summer grass and the heady fragrance of ripe fruit from ancient trees.
“It was my grandmother’s house. And now it’s my house. Not that I get much time here,” Jared admits.