The Complete Novels of the Lear Sisters Trilogy (Lear Family Trilogy #1-3)

“I guess,” Matt said as Maria reappeared and placed a bourbon in front of him.

“You’re a fighter, Matt. And that’s exactly the kind of attitude the Party is looking for—people who know the difference between right and wrong and have the balls to apply that common sense to the common good and get results.”

He wasn’t going to get the donation speech already, was he? The election was months away. Matt thought he should have ordered a double, and quickly turned to catch Maria, but she was too far away.

“We need that kind of thinking and that kind of person to help me win the Lieutenant Governor’s office next November.”

Just looking for a few good men, yada, yada, yada . . .

“We need that kind of drive and determination to breathe life into the state party apparatus.”

Don’t you mean breathe Cineworld’s money, Tom? Matt smiled and tapped his breast pocket. “Don’t worry—I got your few good men right here,” he said, withdrawing a checkbook.

But Tom surprised him, stopped him with a hand to his arm. “I’m not asking for money, Matt.”

Hello? Since when? Since when had Tom Masters ever wanted anything but money? More importantly, why was Matt wasting time here if it wasn’t for a contribution?

Jeff Hunter must have been reading his mind, because he surged forward so abruptly that it startled Matt. “We asked you here, Matt, because we’re interested in building the party toward the future. The fact of the matter is a lot of our state senators and representatives are nearing retirement. We need to bolster the important work of the Party in this state with new blood and new, relevant ideas, or we’re going to watch Austin turn from the last bastion for Democrats in Texas to a Republican stronghold to rival Waco. You can just imagine what effect that would have on our representation in Washington.”

Not really, but who cared? “So what’s stopping you?” Matt asked cheerfully, and picked up his bourbon.

“It’s not easy,” said Doug, pushing aside his vodka. “There aren’t that many people out there who are willing or capable of leading Texas Democrats into the new century. We need smart men and women with solid foundations who can be in Austin every legislative session. We’re looking for people to serve . . . people like you.”

Matt damn near sprayed bourbon all over them. “Like who?”

“You, Matt,” Tom said, and clapped him solidly on the shoulder.

Matt did the only logical thing—he laughed. Set his glass down and laughed hard and loud. The last thing he would ever aspire to be was a politician. The only reason he continued to hang with Tom was because they were fraternity brothers and because Tom was fun at a Longhorn football game. Besides, it helped to grease the wheels of government every now and again. But become a Tom? Still laughing, Matt clapped Tom right back on his shoulder and looked at Doug and Jeff. “I think you’ve got your new blood right here, guys,” he said. “I’m not the political type. I’ve got a good practice and, trust me. I’ve got some ghosts in my closet that you don’t even want to come near.”

“Come on, Matt. Hear us out,” Tom pleaded. “We’re not suggesting you run for an office right now. We’re only asking that you work closely with me on my campaign, see how you like Texas politics, and let us see how Texas politics likes you. You’ve got the right look, the right reputation. If there’s a good fit, we could talk about some substantial backing to put you in an office some day . . . like maybe district attorney.”

“You’re barking up the wrong tree, Tom—I don’t see myself in any office but my own.”

“If everyone had that attitude, then Texas would go to the dogs, wouldn’t it?” Jeff asked sincerely.

“That’s not gonna work on me,” Matt said. “Thanks, but I’m not interested.”

Jeff started to retort something, but Tom held up his hand. “Hey, he’s not interested! We gave it our best shot. I’m starved; let’s order!” He picked up his menu.

After an awkward moment, Jeff and Doug did the same. Matt smiled behind his bourbon and downed it before picking up his menu to peruse the specials.

“By the way, Matt . . . remember Cal Blivins from Conroe?”

“Remember him? I vowed to beat the crap out of him the next time I saw him,” Matt said with a chuckle. “You know that.”

“Did you know he’s considering a run for state senator in the next four years? Word is he’s got some pretty impressive financial backers already on board.”