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She took a seat in a chair in the small room. “You’re presenting, too?”
“I am.”
“That’s too bad.”
“You hoped to have the floor all to yourself?”
She pulled a comb out of her purse, ran it through her hair and refastened her ponytail. “I did.”
“Sorry to disappoint you.”
“Not your fault. I should have guessed they’d want both sides, and you are a natural choice.”
“The governor does like to keep things fair.”
“I’ll definitely be counting on that.” Trying to keep her confidence at a peak, she smoothed the wrinkles out of her navy skirt and checked her white blouse beneath the matching navy blazer.
“You’ll do fine, Darby,” Seth told her kindly.
In return, she put as much condescension into her voice as she could muster. “I’m sure you will, too, Seth.”
A woman appeared through a set of oversize double doors. “Mayor Jacobs? Ms. Carroll? The commission is ready for you both.”
Great. They were presenting together. Not that she was going to say anything he hadn’t heard before. But she’d prefer not to have him frowning or smirking while she made her points.
The room was opulent and airy. Arching, white beams glimmered around them, and the domed ceiling was covered in a mural. In the center was a huge, U-shaped table, and their footsteps echoed on the marble floor as they approached.
There were about thirty people sitting around the table. To a person, they were sixtysomething men with gray hair or balding heads. All wore dark suits and tight neckties. Another dozen or so people sat on chairs around the edges of the room, mostly women, obviously support staff.
Darby didn’t know why she was surprised at the continuing gender divide in politics. Here, as in the military, women needed to support each other.
She took one of the two vacant chairs at a long table in the hollow end of the U-shape. There was a microphone in front of her, a glass of water, a pen and a pad of paper. She placed her purse on the floor and opened up her leather folder full of handwritten notes from the plane, laying them out in front of her.
Beside her, Seth sat smoothly down. He didn’t have a briefcase, nor did he produce any speaking notes. The Chair invited him to go first.
Speaking from memory, Seth’s presentation was organized and sharp. It highlighted the economic interests of Lyndon Valley, his election platform, Mountain Railway’s record across the country and the expected benefits of the railway to the region. As he had at the Rodeo Association dinner, he kept the members of the commission engaged and interested with anecdotes that illustrated his points.
Darby, by contrast, fumbled. Her facts and figures were all there, as was her rationale and passion. But she lacked Seth’s eloquent, effective delivery style. And when it came time for questions, it was clear that the railroad supporters outnumbered detractors.
The hours dragged on, past the expected noon end time. As the clock crept toward 2:00 p.m., Darby realized she wouldn’t make her return flight.
One of the commission members, a portly, older man who clearly enjoyed the sound of his own voice, launched into a lengthy dissertation on his positive experiences with the railroad as a young man, using up an additional half hour. By the time the Chair brought the gavel down on the discussions, Darby was tired, hungry and disillusioned.
“Well, that was fun,” Seth mumbled to her as the commission members gathered their belongings and the staffers rose from the perimeter chairs to talk to the members.
“I’d say you won that round,” Darby conceded.
“I don’t think anything will come of it,” he returned easily.
“What do you mean?” She tucked her papers away, zipping the edges of the folder.
“They want bragging rights for having convened a commission and interviewed stakeholders. They don’t want to actually go to the trouble of enacting any new regulations.”
“You mean to say, this was a waste of our time?”
There was a rebuke in his tone. “Darby Carroll, participating in the democratic processes of your state is never a waste of your time.”
“Yeah, yeah. Well, I sure wish I’d brought a change of underwear to this particular democratic process.”
Seth chuckled as he stepped to one side, letting her precede him to the door. “You were that nervous?”
“What?” Then she realized what he meant. “Of course not.” She frowned at his juvenile humor. “I meant I missed the last flight back to Lyndon.”
She adjusted the strap of her purse on her shoulder, tucking the folder under her arm as she stepped through the open doorway. “I’ll have to find a hotel and try to get the flight tomorrow. Did you stay somewhere nearby?”
“I flew into Denver this morning.” He opened the waiting-room door for her, and they started down the hallway.
“I didn’t see you on the plane.”
There were only a few flights a day out of the tiny Lyndon airport. It was odd that she could have missed him.
“My brother-in-law Caleb was in town. He lent me his corporate jet.”
Darby sighed in resignation of the way the world worked. “You flew in on a corporate jet, looking like a million bucks, to present to a jury of your clones. Must be nice.”
“You think I look like a million bucks?”
“I had to get up at 3:00 a.m. And a baby cried behind me the whole flight. I took a packed shuttle bus from the airport, and there wasn’t a single woman on the commission. Did you notice that?”
“I’m sorry,” he said simply.
“It’s not your fault,” she grumbled, suddenly embarrassed by her bad mood. “It’s the lack of sleep. And the shameless waste of my time. I have a new group of guests coming in today, and now Marta has to take care of them until tomorrow afternoon.”
He pressed the elevator button. “Let me buy you dinner.”
“I don’t need you to babysit me.” She was a grown woman. While it might be inconvenient, she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself for twenty-four hours in Denver.
“Okay, you buy me dinner.”
“Why would I do that?”
The elevator pinged, and the doors slid open to reveal an empty car.
Seth put his arm out to keep the door from sliding closed, gesturing her inside. “I’ll make you a deal. I’m starving. You buy me something to eat at the bistro across the street, and I’ll give you a ride home.”
Darby turned inside the elevator, hoping he meant what she thought he meant.
“You mean today? In your corporate jet?” That would make her life a whole lot easier.
He pressed the button for the lobby, and they began their descent.
“Today. In my corporate jet,” he affirmed.
“Your brother-in-law won’t mind you picking up hitchhikers?”
“Of course he won’t mind. The thing has a dozen seats. And you don’t look like you weigh much.” Seth made a show of eyeing her up and down. “I doubt we’ll notice the increase in jet fuel consumption.”
The doors slid open at the lobby level, and they entered a brightly lit atrium.
“In that case, I am definitely buying you dinner. Thank you, Seth,” she told him sincerely.
If they weren’t battling over such an important issue, she would have admired his manners and his class. She also would have admired his public-speaking skills and his overall professionalism. He wasn’t a jerk. He was simply wrong about this one very important issue.
“You don’t have to buy me dinner,” he said.
“Yes, I do. That was the deal.”
“I was only joking. I’m a gentleman. I’ll still buy.”
She shook her head. “It’s not a date. And I’m paying.”
“Okay,” he finally agreed as they exited to the sidewalk. “But one dinner doesn’t mean I’ll sleep with you.”
“Imagine my disappointment,” she returned, even as a glow of awareness came to life inside her.
“I should tell you I’m still joking.” He paused, tone gruff. “I’d sleep with you if you bought me coffee.”
The little glow became insistent inside her. She had to struggle to keep her expression neutral. “It would pretty much take a corporate jet to buy your way into my bed.”
He arched a brow. “That would do it? Because I could probably get a decent price from Caleb.”
She shot him an exaggerated look of disdain. “And you claim ranchers need a break on transportation costs.”
He laughed at that.
The light changed, and they crossed four lanes of traffic, taking a short staircase down to the Tableau Bistro.
It was dark inside, intimate and mostly deserted, since it was barely past the middle of the afternoon. Yellow candles glowed on each of the heavy wood tables. They were surrounded by high-backed, burgundy upholstered chairs. Pot lighting illuminated rich wooden walls, and a row of ceiling arches shone with burnished copper linings.
