Rook (Political Royalty Book 2) (17 page)

The sun had started to set, they hadn’t been to any other parts of the parks, and Matt couldn’t care less. Their day with the Walker girls had been everything he wanted the day to be but hadn’t known it could be. His sister looked happy and relaxed, with none of the haunted shadows around her eyes that had been there earlier. The bodyguard—turned out his name was Pete—steered them into the Three Broomsticks and insisted on paying for the meal, even over Matt’s objections. It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate the Walkers’ generosity. He did; he just didn’t like feeling like the help. It was subtle but there. He was a reporter. Free press and all that.

He’d also been wrestling with the picture he still had on his phone of one of the senator’s campaign aides ushering a very pregnant woman out of a hotel room. Spending time with Walker’s family changed the way Matt felt about any indiscretions he might have had. Liking the senator’s daughters and even his wife made him feel a little bit like a sleaze. Not because he’d done anything wrong, but because he might know more about threats to her family than Mrs. Walker did. He didn’t intend to do anything with the information. In all honesty, he didn’t have anything he could use, just a blurry picture and a hunch.

“I’m going to take the girls back to the hotel after dinner,” said Pete. “Mrs. Walker would like to speak with you.” He handed Matt his phone, and Sandra Walker’s soft voice filled his ear.

“I can’t thank you enough for spending the day with the girls,” she said. “It means a great deal to me and to their father. I was wondering if perhaps you’d be interested in doing some sort of profile piece on them?”

“I appreciate the offer,” he said, slightly taken aback. Everything was starting to feel more like a business transaction, and he didn’t like it. He never expected to be friends with the Walkers, but he also didn’t want to be staff. Mrs. Walker had a way of treating the people around her as if they all worked for her. It was part of his initial dislike of her. “But that’s not why we agreed to do this. It was a pleasure spending the day with your girls.” He glanced over at the twin blonde heads bent over their fish and chips. Becca caught his gaze and arched her eyebrow in question. He shook his head slightly and went back to paying attention to the senator’s wife, still feeling a little prickly. “I don’t expect anything for it.”

“I’m sorry. I’ve clearly given you the wrong impression.” She sounded contrite, but Matt wasn’t done feeling used. Not yet. “It’s impossible to hide the girls from the media. In our position, it’s simply expected that the public will have access to them. When my husband wins the presidency, that will only get worse.”

He admired her certainty and wondered if it was genuine or more politics.

“I’m simply trying to decide how that exposure happens. The guard said the girls had fun with you and your sister, and I have a reason to like you myself. Anyone who looks after his sister the way you do yours can’t be a bad person.”

Matt saw more than one flaw in her logic, but he was warming to the flattery.

“I’m listening,” he said and was rewarded with her gentle bell-like laugh.
Jesus, everything the woman did was perfect, as if it had been choreographed.

“I trust you and I obviously trust you with my children. A piece in the
Tribune
would help my husband’s campaign and give the public some of what they want without risking too much exposure. I thought perhaps it might help you as well.”

She was right; it would. It wasn’t the
Walker’s women
story his editor wanted—he cringed at the thought for a different reason now—but she’d eat it up if he got an exclusive with the senator’s kids.

“It certainly wouldn’t hurt.”

He heard a sound as if she’d put her hand over her phone and a muffled “Yes Abby, I’ll tell him.” He hadn’t realized the senator’s aide was traveling with his family.
Interesting.

“The senator’s office would, of course, have to approve the article,” said Mrs. Walker.

The
Tribune
would never give editorial control to a candidate. Not in a million years, but he’d figure out a way to deal with that when he got there.

“I’m sure we can work something out. Thank you for the opportunity.”

He was still grinning when he hung up. He really was a lucky bastard. He’d played hooky in an amusement park, and he was still going home with the promise of a story that would make Jess lose her shit.

H
AVEN SET THE DIET MOUNTAIN DEW Code Red on the table next to her new technology manager and waited for him to acknowledge her. She hired Owen to make sense of the poll results, parse the campaign’s voter database data, and to start to integrate voter registration records with volunteer and donor lists so they’d be ready for the general. He’d already customized the software in a way that let the captains on the ground pull addresses and social media contacts to pinpoint who they’d have the most luck convincing of Walker’s message and who on their teams was best able to reach those people. Friends tended to listen to other friends, even if the connection was as nebulous as Facebook. It was a massive amount of information and Owen had already more than earned his keep.

Winning the nomination was simply the first step. Haven bounced her focus back and forth between the two contests, trying desperately not to drop the ball on either. Knowing Owen had a handle on the tech side allowed her to relax a bit.

She hadn’t known the tech guy for long, but she’d already figured out she got better results when she showed up with small bribes and treats. By better, she meant he chose language she could understand instead of talking techie to her.

Her most immediate interest was the polling data coming out of Florida and Ohio, the two big winner-take-all states. Winning both would add over a hundred and sixty delegates to Walker’s count and go a long way toward locking up the nomination. Losing, especially after all the time and money she’d sunk in Florida, would be a bitter pill to swallow. She wanted both states.

Of course, so did everyone else, but the only one with a realistic chance was Collins. Estevan might have a shot at Florida, but Ohio was well out of his reach. The Walker campaign tried hard to hit the military versus domestic experience argument, especially in the wake of the bridge collapse, but it was difficult going. Despite the statistics, voters were still more worried about international terrorists than they were problems at home and regardless of how much they loved Walker, the majority of them trusted Collins more to handle terrorism.

It was a hard argument to make without the candidate sounding like he was minimizing terror attacks and one they still hadn’t quite figured out how to craft.

“Wha’dya want?” asked Owen, glancing up briefly from the glowing screen in front of him and snagging the bottle of soda.

An image of Gollum flashed in Haven’s mind and she choked back a laugh.

“Just checking to see if you had better projections for Florida,” she said, trying to smile in a way that couldn’t be perceived as confrontational.

She and Justin were the only ones he’d talk to and even Justin was a long shot. Early on, Travis stopped by to talk to Owen about some equipment expenses and he hadn’t taken kindly to it. After he threatened to change Travis’s credit report and college transcripts, Travis signed the check and refused to have anything else to do with him.

“There are no better projections. The numbers are what they are. Just because they don’t show what you want doesn’t make them bad.” He went back to looking at the screen, and she resisted the urge to stick her tongue out at the back of his head. He seemed to have a knack at bringing out all her adolescent tendencies.

“Let me rephrase things.” She took a deep breath and chose her words carefully. “What are the poll numbers showing about Walker’s chances to win Florida?”

“They suck,” said Owen, glancing over to grin at her. If he wasn’t so good at making sense of things she didn’t understand and connections where only he saw them, she’d fire his overly caffeinated ass. But he was and he did and she’d put up with just about anything to help Walker win. She loved him. It added a layer to everything she did, every decision she made. It also scared the crap out of her, but she was doing her best to ignore that part for now.

“How bad are they?” The last time she checked, Walker and Collins had been within two points of each other, well within the margin of error for both polls.

“Point and a quarter for Collins,” he said, not bothering to look up.

“How does that suck? That’s better than it was.”

“Florida only matters if you win. Second place gets nothing. Walker’s going to come in second. So it sucks.”

He said the words slowly, as if he were talking to a child. Half the time she felt like that’s how he saw her. Hell, way more than half the time.

“Are you sure?” He gave her the side eye and she shook her head. “Never mind. Forget I asked.” She stood up to leave.

“It’s getting better. Another two or three days and he might pull in front.”

“The primary is today.”

“I know. Hence the suckage.”

Haven shook her head and hoped the numbers were wrong. Turning away so she wouldn’t give in to the urge to grab Owen by the shoulders and shake him, she walked through the suite to the side where Travis sat watching the news. It was too soon for any official results so the talking heads were actively engaged in time-filling speculation. Justin was due back with Abby and the Walkers any minute, and she had to figure out how to get her head in the right place first. Concentrating on work helped.

She thought it might be harder since she and Shep said
I love you
, but the campaign kept her from having time to dwell on all the many ways they were fucked. When Sandra was along, she sent Justin to handle the senator’s personal appearances.

Mrs. Walker and the girls showed up that morning, still talking about Harry Potter and some family interest piece the
Tribune
was writing. She’d been tempted to explain to Sandra the importance of running media requests through the campaign, but Walker had been angry enough at his wife for making the decision without him, Haven didn’t see an upside to interjecting herself into the conflict. The less she had to do with his family, the better. Out of sight, out of mind only went so far.

“What do we know?” asked Travis.

“Not much more than we did. How’s the money?”

As soon as he recovered from the oysters, Travis had grilled her and Walker about Mrs. Winthrop’s dinner and hadn’t stopped until the checks started rolling in. He started bumping her shoulder and grinning at her as if she were a prized quarterback when the total surpassed his expectations. It was simultaneously endearing and irritating as hell.

“Good. The Florida buy made a dent in the North Carolina money but not enough to worry about if we win.”

She started to share her fears about Owen’s projections when the door opened and Walker walked through with Abby and Justin behind him. Haven held her breath, finally exhaling when she saw Mrs. Walker wasn’t with them.

“How’d it go?” she asked, forcing her gaze between Walker and Justin so she didn’t end up looking like a lovesick fool.

“Fantastic,” said Justin. “The senator closed a lot of deals this afternoon. People ate his message up.”

The uncharacteristic praise from Justin meant the rallies must have really gone well. In an effort to lock up as many votes as possible, they’d squeezed a Herculean number of stops into the day.

“Hopefully it will translate to votes,” said Walker. “Sandra and the girls are exhausted. They went to rest until it’s time for the cameras tonight.” He sounded rueful and she hated not knowing what he was thinking. Loving someone and having them love you back should make things easier, but that only worked if it was the right person at the right time. And if one of them wasn’t married with a family.

“Forty-five minutes until the first polls close. Aside from North Carolina, the only way we’ll have results early is if it’s bad news,” said Justin. “I’m ordering in. Anyone else want pizza?”

As if he had to ask. A chorus of yeses went up around the room. They had the ballroom reserved for later with a cash bar and some kind of hors d’oeuvres Abby ordered. Volunteers and supporters would start showing up within the hour, but Haven didn’t want Walker in front of the cameras until they had something definitive to say. If he won Florida and Ohio, he could start to talk like the presumptive nominee without looking ridiculous. If he lost...well, she didn’t want to think about what that would mean.

Abby suddenly appeared at her side, looking like she was working her way up to asking something. Even after all these months, Haven still hadn’t gotten a clear read on the other woman. She was so quiet, it was easy to forget she was there sometimes. Then there would be other times when she answered a question no one else could. She paid attention to everything and followed the Walkers like a shadow. As best as Haven could tell, the girls loved her and she sometimes wondered if Sandra even knew her name.

“Something on your mind?” Haven asked, trying not to spook the other woman.