Gray Preston was not at all what she’d imagined him to be. Yes, she’d fully read his bio and seen video of him doing pre – and post-race media interviews, and had gone over his family history with his mother, including all his childhood photos and academic and professional biography, but those didn’t compare with meeting the man face-to-face.
He was stunning. Wet with sweat and smelling a lot like gasoline and motor oil, his hair clinging to his forehead and neck, and with his fire suit unzipped, he was the sexiest man she’d ever laid eyes on. And when he’d directed his warm, whiskey-colored eyes on her, something quivered between her legs.
Evelyn wasn’t the type to go liquid over a good-looking man. Washington was filled with hot men, and if anyone was going to get her motor running, one would think it would be a political type. Business suit with a lock on a major office? Now that was her bailiwick. Not some scruffed-up, needed-a-shave grease monkey who craved a hot track over a hot political race. So her libido firing up over Gray Preston likely had more to do with him being the fastest way to get to the White House rather than his good looks and bedroom eyes. She wasn’t the type to fall for a man simply because he was pretty.
Besides, he was stubborn and uncooperative and in her way, and she could already tell this assignment wasn’t going to be easy. She’d rather be by Senator Preston’s side, where she belonged, helping him onto the presidential ticket in November, rather than hand-hold his son and beg for his cooperation in order to get a few hundred thousand votes, even if those potential votes were important ones.
But she knew she’d do whatever it took, so when her phone rang and Gray told her where they could meet, she grabbed her bag, climbed into her rental car, and drove the short distance to the restaurant.
He was already waiting for her at the front door. And he didn’t look happy about it, either.
Tough. She dealt with unpleasant people all the time. His attitude didn’t faze her.
“Good morning,” she said, pasting on her friendliest smile.
He nodded and held the door for her.
Okay, that’s how it was going to be. She could deal. Eventually he’d have to talk to her.
The waitress, who obviously recognized Gray, grinned, pushed back her out-of-control, overprocessed hair, and hurried them to a booth at the back of the restaurant while giving Evelyn a look she wasn’t certain was admiration or pure jealousy.
“Coffee?” the waitress asked. Her name was Aileen and she looked to be in her forties.
“Thank you, Aileen. With cream,” Evelyn said.
“Same here,” Gray said with a smile. At Aileen, of course.
At least she knew now that he wasn’t suffering from laryngitis.
They looked over their menus, and by the time Aileen came with their coffees, they ordered breakfast. Since Evelyn hadn’t had a chance to have a cup of coffee yet— usually her first task of the day, even before her shower—she took a couple quick sips, needing that caffeine surge. She added a couple more sips, sighed in contentment, then lifted her gaze to Gray, finding him staring at her.
“I can survive without it, but if you want to have an intelligent conversation with me, I’m better after coffee.”
“Good to know.” He lifted his cup, and she was struck again by his amazing eyes.
He was very direct in staring at her, too, which she found decidedly . . .
uncomfortable.
She laid her cup down. “Let’s clear the air. You’re obviously not happy with me.”
“You called my mother.”
She resisted the urge to smile at the accusatory tone in his voice. Evelyn loved Loretta Preston, one of the kindest, sweetest, most patient women she’d ever known.
They’d had many conversations together, about both her husband and her son. She’d hoped Loretta had some influence on Gray and she’d obviously been right. The woman was fierce about her causes and didn’t take no for an answer.
“Of course I did. You left me no choice.”
“Sure I did. I said no. That was your cue to walk away.”
Her lips lifted. “Clearly, you don’t know me at all. I don’t walk away when I’m given an assignment. Working with you is my assignment, and until I exhausted all avenues, I wasn’t about to give up. And since your mother expressly asked me to convince you, I figured she’d be an asset in persuading you.”
He didn’t answer.
“You don’t like your mother?”
His gaze shot to hers. “I love my mother.”
“Then I don’t see the problem.”
“You went behind my back to serve your own purpose.”
She rolled her eyes. “Do you have a fundamental disagreement with your mother’s agenda?”
He frowned. “No.”
“Then I don’t see what the problem is.”
“It’s obvious we’re not going to see eye to eye on this.”
“That’s okay with me. Did you have a chance to think about the plan?”
He gave her a blank stare. “I didn’t know there was a plan.”
“Oh. I thought maybe your mother talked to you about the campaign’s objectives.”
“My mother spoke to me about her objectives, and asked me to help. That was it.”
Her lips curved.