Jane Sutherland leaned against the sink and slipped off her Jimmy Choos. After five hours of talking and hobnobbing with the Houston wealthy and the Who’s Who of Texas oil, her feet were screaming at her. She wiggled her toes as the floor cooled her aching feet. Much better, she thought. If only she could attend formal functions barefoot, it would make them much more fun.
She looked into the mirror and applied a fresh coat of ruby lipstick. Her platinum-blond hair, slicked back into a chignon, highlighted her large sapphire-colored eyes. Forty-seven years of avoiding the sun—she burned easily—had kept her face pale and wrinkle-free.
There was a knock at the door. “Senator Sutherland? Mr. Prescott has a guest he’d like to introduce to you.”
“I’ll be right there.” Jane sighed and placed the lipstick into her Gucci clutch. Another guest. Another drink.
When she had started her political career, she’d had no idea that most of her time would be spent fundraising. She had naively thought she’d be different from the others. She’d make a difference. Now, the only difference she made was whether or not her financial supporters would benefit from their generous donations to her campaign.
She swung the door open to find a distinguished-looking man standing in the hall.
“Senator.” He broke into a glorious smile. “I was about to see if you needed my assistance.”
“I seem to recall that the last time you offered to help and came after me in the ladies room, I got water all over your silk tie.” Jane smiled at Luke Prescott.
He offered his arm, and she tucked her hand into it. “I was doing you a favor, lifting you up so you could wash your hands. I had no idea you would destroy my favorite tie.”
“That’s the risk of keeping company with a five-year-old.” Jane squeezed his arm affectionately.
Her father had worked for Luke Prescott, and he was a close family friend. Growing up, Luke had always been present for the important events in her life—the lead in the school play, prom, graduation—even when her father hadn’t. Then when her mother had died, he’d made sure to call at least once a day. He became her closest confidant. It had been his idea for her to go to law school, and after that, he’d encouraged and supported her run for Senate.
“Thank goodness I had a dozen more like it.” His grey eyes twinkled.
“And why wouldn’t you? I would think a billionaire would have at least a couple.”
“Now, now, Jane. Be nice to the super wealthy. We have feelings, too.”
Jane paused at the entrance to the ballroom. The room was packed with supporters of the American Federation Party, all expecting great things from her. All she had ever wanted was to help give people a better life. When had that turned into wearing a designer gown and talking to people who paid the price of a small car just to be in the same room with her? If it hadn’t been for Luke insisting and purchasing her wardrobe, what he considered a necessary uniform, she’d wear something less ostentatious.
“I’m a bit tired, Luke. Let’s call it a night.”
“One more person,” he whispered into her ear. “The Conoleys are dying to meet you in person. They flew all the way from Oklahoma.”
“On their private jet, I’m sure.”
“It’s a small one.”
“Oh, my apologies.” Jane feigned concern. “I didn’t know how much hardship they were under. Let’s meet them.” She might as well get this over with. As much as she hated fundraising, she was passionate about the American Federation Party, believing that their core value of fiscal and community responsibilities would benefit the country.
After Jane shared a drink with the Conoleys, Luke took her to another group of people to meet. Every time she tried to leave, Luke found an excuse for her to stay. It was strange that, as the evening progressed, she had the sensation of being drunk, even though she barely sipped from only one glass of wine. She glanced at her drink, wondering how it could still be half-full. It was as if she hadn’t been drinking from it at all.
“I’ve had enough, Luke,” she said.
“Go and get your beauty sleep.” He waved to a tall man standing on the outskirts of the room. “I’ll have Sal follow you home.”
“That’s not necessary,” she said. Sal was Luke’s personal assistant and bodyguard. Wherever Luke went, Sal was close behind, lurking in the shadows. He tried to blend in with others, which was difficult for a hulking six-foot-two mass of muscles to do, and the crocodile boots he always wore didn’t help, either.