Stupid shoes. She grabbed the remote and turned on the television, which was set to the sports channel. Too tired to channel surf, she ordered room service, rolling her eyes as the replay of today’s race events came on TV. Despite the childishness of the act, she stuck her tongue out at the screen when Gray Preston’s handsome face appeared before her.
“Dickhead,” she muttered, then grabbed her phone to check her email, grimacing when she saw one from the senator asking for a status update.
The most important task he’d ever given her, and she’d failed on the first try.
She lifted her gaze to see Gray’s smiling face as he was interviewed by the media.
She’d been thwarted more than once in Washington, and she’d never given up.
Where was her fight, her determination to win? That was how she’d gotten as far as she had. And she was so close to getting what she wanted, to being able to live her dream.
She knew exactly what she needed to do.
She scrolled through her phone and punched the number, grinning as it rang. If Gray thought he could say no and it was over, he’d soon realize she was more formidable than he thought. She’d never go down without a hard fight.
“Mrs. Preston? Hi, it’s Evelyn . . . I’m fine, thank you, but we have a problem. It’s your son, Gray.”
TWO
A KNOCK ON HIS DOOR ROUSED GRAY FROM WHAT should have been his morning to sleep in. He blinked, growled, then rolled out of his bed, pulled on a pair of sweats, and ambled his way to the door as the knocking grew louder.
“Hang on one damn minute. I’m coming.”
He jerked open the door, mentally swearing that if it was Donny or Ian he was going to kick their asses. His eyes widened when he saw his mother standing there.
“Mom. What are you doing here?”
“Don’t you answer your damn phone?” She pushed past him and came inside.
He scratched his head. “Uh . . . my phone.” He looked around, his head still fuzzy from sleep and now confusion. “I don’t know where my phone is. And why are you here?”
Her brown eyes blazed fire at him. “I’m here because you’re being uncooperative.
Why did you say no to Evelyn?”
He was not awake enough for this conversation. Evelyn who? “I need coffee.
Would you like coffee?”
“It’s ten o’clock, Grayson. I’ve already had coffee and breakfast. Were you still asleep?”
“Yeah. Sorry. Let me make some coffee, then I promise to be coherent. Take a seat, Mom.”
He got coffee brewing, then said, “I’m going to go put a shirt on. I’ll be right back.”
Shaking his head, he went back into the bedroom and grabbed a shirt, took a piss, and brushed his teeth, then found his phone and saw that he’d left his phone on vibrate, and that he’d missed four calls from his mother.
Shit.
By the time he got back, the coffee was ready. He poured a cup. “Would you like something to drink? Water, tea, pop?”
“I’m good, thank you. Sit down and drink your coffee.”
Thank God. He downed the first cup as if it were the elixir of life, because he knew why his mother was here. So he went ahead and grabbed a second cup, and by then the caffeine was doing the job. He was at least awake.
“What did you do? Go on a bender after the race last weekend?” his mother asked.
He snorted. “No. It was a long, hot weekend. I’m tired and sleep helps me refuel.”
His mother gave him the once-over. She looked beautiful as always in a summer dress with some kind of sweater thrown over it, her dark brown hair cut in some kind of short bob that grazed her chin.
“Hey, new haircut. You look nice, Mom. I’m glad to see you.”
He bent over and kissed her cheek.
She didn’t smile. “I wouldn’t be here if you’d been cooperative.”
“Oh, so this is my fault. Look, I appreciate that Dad has a new campaign, but that doesn’t mean I have to participate.”
She rolled her eyes. “It’s not just a new campaign, Grayson. It’s the potential to become the vice president of the United States.”
He tried to muster up some kind of reply, but he came up blank.
“Didn’t Evelyn tell you that I’d appreciate your cooperation on this?”
“She did. I still turned her down.”
“I don’t ask you for much, Grayson, and I typically don’t interfere in your relationship with your father, but he’s not the only one who has been in politics for over thirty years. So have I. I’ve stood by his side—through the bad as well as the good—I’ve fought with him through every campaign. And despite what you think, he’s a very good man. If not for the current president endorsing Cameron, your father could very well have gotten the presidential nomination this year. I still believe he’ll eventually end up there. In the meantime, there’s the opportunity of a lifetime waiting for him. Something he’s worked very hard to achieve.”