“I think he’s starting to reconsider, but don’t tell Bella I said that. She’ll start hounding us even more.”
“My lips are sealed,” Jen said. “If you don’t mind, maybe I will leave him here again. Brett told me to take him back with us, but it might be better if Bo stays here. He’s familiar with this house.”
Kristen had started to uncover the brownies, but she paused. “You’re spending the night at his house?”
She moved closer and peeked over her shoulder at the door. “I stayed there last night.” Jen kept her voice low even though there was no way anyone would overhear her.
Her sister’s eyes grew big. “You are moving fast.” She looked out the window again. “Sometime this week we need to have a nice long chat without Bella or Dan around so you can fill me in on all the details.”
Jen was closer to Kristen than anyone else in the world. “I’ll call you.” She tugged the plate closer and finished unwrapping the brownies. “We better get these desserts out there before the natives get restless and storm the castle. Brett’s sweet tooth is worse than Dan’s, if you can believe it.” She’d known Dan long enough to know he ate healthy most of the time and worked out on a regular basis. However, he did love to indulge in the sweet stuff.
“No way. Not possible. If it weren’t for me, the only green in Dan’s diet would come from pistachio-flavored ice cream.” Kristen gathered up the ingredients for making s’mores as well as the tray of oatmeal cookies her mother-in-law had brought. “But if you’re right, Brett’s waistline doesn’t suffer because of it.”
She’d noticed the same thing. “Tell me about it. Some things in life aren’t fair. I look at a cookie and gain a pound. You should’ve seen the dessert he polished off last night.”
Kristen walked toward the door. “Some people are just lucky that way.”
She’d always been envious of her sister because Kristen definitely fell into the lucky category. The woman could indulge in pizza and a beer every day and not gain an ounce. She on the other hand had to be conscious of what she ate. She never obsessed about it, but she definitely needed to keep in mind how many times a month she indulged in a bowl of ice cream. Some months it was easier than others. She’d worried that over the summer she’d given in to temptation one too many times. Brett didn’t seem to find anything wrong with her figure though, so maybe she’d been a little too critical of herself lately.
Chapter Seven
A woman dressed in black slacks and a white blouse answered the door and Phillip pasted on a smile. “Phillip Young. Mr. Smith is expecting me this afternoon.”
“Yes, he mentioned you would be arriving,” the woman said, taking a step back so Phillip could enter the house. “He’s waiting in his office. Please follow me.”
Phillip followed the woman through the two-story foyer and down a hallway. The moment Ted Smith had approached him about running his campaign, he’d done his homework. He knew the former lieutenant governor had gotten this home as well as the one in Vermont in the divorce. His ex-wife had gotten the home in the Hamptons and the one on Martha’s Vineyard. He didn’t know what the other houses looked like, but it didn’t appear as though Ted Smith had suffered following the messy and very public divorce. The event would be the biggest obstacle standing between his client and the open Senate seat in Washington.
In front of him, the woman paused and knocked before opening the door. “Mr. Smith, your associate has arrived.” She stepped back so Phillip could enter the room.
“Thank you, Lila,” Ted said.
He left his spot behind his desk and met Phillip in the middle of the home office. “Nice to see you again. Have a seat.” He gestured
toward the small conference table in the room. “Can I get you anything to drink?”
When it came to alcohol, Phillip favored whiskey, but he’d drink anything. From the research he’d done, the same could be said about Ted. “Whatever you’re having is fine.”
While his new employer poured them drinks, Phillip set down his leather portfolio and laptop. The easy part had been getting the signatures necessary to get Ted on the ballot. If they had any hope of him winning first the primary and then the election, they had a lot of work to do. Especially considering whom he’d be up against in the primary.
Damn Sherbrookes. Anyone else and Phillip was confident the man before him could win even with his less than stellar past. However, running against a member of the Sherbrooke family made the possibility far less likely. Not that it would stop him from trying. When it came to running campaigns, Phillip had a reputation to maintain. And nothing was going to stand in his way of getting his candidate elected. Not even a member of the Sherbrooke family.
“Did you see the most recent polls?” Phillip asked once Ted sat down across from him.
“No, not yet. I haven’t had a chance to check them.”
That wasn’t the answer he wanted to hear. If Ted was going to win, he needed to dedicate himself to this campaign, and that meant eating, sleeping, and drinking politics every day no matter what until November.
“As of this afternoon, the polls have Brett Sherbrooke ahead of you by ten points.” He’d seen candidates overcome such deficits on occasion, but he’d prefer a much small margin. “Hammond and Reed are tied as of now. Neither of them are our concern at this point, however.” After he helped Ted win the primary, he’d turn his attention to ruining the other party’s candidate.
Ted sipped his drink as he mulled over the information. “All things considered, it’s better than I expected. I’ll be upfront with you. I thought I would have this race in the bag until I saw the Sherbrooke name.” He took another sip before setting the glass down. “Between you and me, I’m not sure we can compete. He’s got resources I don’t.”
Phillip glanced around the home office. He didn’t have the man’s bank records, but if this house was any indication, he was doing quite well despite the monthly alimony and child support payments he had to both his ex-wife and his former mistress. Today he wasn’t here to discuss finances though. Those particulars he’d leave to Ted’s finance coordinator.
“Sherbrooke might have an edge there, but he doesn’t have the experience you do. Many won’t care what his name is because he doesn’t have the same political knowledge you do.”
Perhaps he was stretching the truth somewhat. While Brett Sherbrooke hadn’t held an office, he’d grown up around politicians. No one could spend that much time around politics and not learn a thing or two. Ted didn’t need to hear that, especially not today. The man who’d first approached him to run his campaign had been confident and ready to tackle anyone who stood in his way. The man across the table this afternoon was giving off a very different vibe.
“It’s not the only thing he doesn’t have,” Ted said before downing the rest of his drink.