He studies me for a minute. He certainly didn't expect me to come in firing. Hell, I didn't either.
"I tell ya what, Barrett," he sighs, leaning forward. "There are two things in this race that are important to me. One is the Land Bill. The other is how well the candidate I endorse will perform in office. My word matters to me. You know that," he pauses. He's the fox in the henhouse. I watch his smirk grow as he keeps talking. "And I'll tell you the truth—I'm worried about your reputation. You're a rake, to put it bluntly. A bachelor that appears as interested in women as he is the work that must be done."
"I beg your pardon," I say, narrowing my eyes. "My approval rating as Mayor of Savannah is the highest it's been for any person in that post in modern history.”
"Look,” Nolan interjects, “we aren't here to argue what Landry does in his own time. We are here to see what it will take for you to back him. So, what's it going to be? Just cut the shit and give it to us straight."
"I need a commitment that you will vote against the Land Bill," he says, looking me straight in the eye.
I don't waver. I feel sick to my stomach, knowing that it will kill the local economy while putting money in his pocket if it’s nixed.
"That Bill isn’t even guaranteed to be on the table in the next five years.”
"But if it is," he says, cocking his head, "I want full assurance that you won’t support it. Come on, Barrett,” he sighs. “Your own family has land out there. You won’t seriously consider losing that kind of money, will you? Be smart about this. I know you’re probably thinking you’ll go in there and do some good for the people and you can. You can. But there’s no sense in shooting yourself in the foot over it.”
I glance at Nolan and he’s watching me carefully. I rack my brain for an answer that will appease him.
"Hobbs has given me his word that he won’t support it if it comes to that."
I clench my jaw. "I assure you I will talk with you about it then before any decision is made."
He blows out a breath as the waitress places our plates in front of us and leaves.
"That's fair," he says without sounding confident.
"Absolutely it is," I say.
He shakes his head and pulls his plate in front of him. "Very well. I can also assume that you will be taking Daphne to Garalent, correct?"
"He is," Nolan looks at me sternly. "We've already discussed that, remember?"
I cringe, my head feeling like it's going to explode. We fucking discussed it, all right, but that discussion was very much before Alison.
Looking at Monroe’s face, his eyes are lit. Me taking his daughter is a huge boon to him, and if I back out now, it’s the nail in my coffin.
He slices through his chicken breast. "She'll be pleased to know that."
"Gentlemen, if you don't mind," I say, scooting my chair back, "I'm going to have to take off. I have an appointment in a few minutes that I was going to call off, but since we seem to be finished here, I think I'll try to make it."
Monroe laughs, knowing I'm making it up. "No problem. Good to do business with you, Barrett."
"You too," I bite out. I don't bother looking at Nolan. I just slip through the restaurant, avoiding the hostess, and out the door.
Alison
I SUBMIT MY FINAL PAPER of the day to my professor and close my laptop. I’ve been working at this all day, trying to nail the theme of the piece and I’m confident that I did. One more year of school and working two jobs and I’ll be firmly on my own two feet.
Huxley is riding his bike in the backyard, creating a little trail around the one tree that stands almost in the middle. I can’t wait to buy a bigger house in a better neighborhood with a great big space so he can play and move to his heart’s delight.
The doorbell rings and I give one last look to Hux before heading to the entry way. A delivery man is standing on the other side, holding a vase filled with deep purple flowers and a satiny white ribbon.
“Ms. Baker?”
“That’s me.”
“These are for you.”
He hands me the heavy vase, and before I can thank him, he’s back in his van. I pull them to my nose, breathing in the wonderful scent, and close the door behind me.
With an excited step, I make my way to the kitchen, place them on the counter, and pull out the card written on white stationary.
I hope you’re thinking about me, because I’m thinking about you. -Barrett
Bringing the card to my chest, I hold it over my heart and allow myself to smile, to bask in the feeling of being wanted. That this busy man, in the midst of the most strenuous moment of his career, took a second out of his day to make me feel like this.