Page 107 of Blue Jean Summer

I chuckled. “But your focus isn’t on Virginia’s economy. At least not after your term is up.”

Governor Grant raised an eyebrow. “Who’s to say I’m not going to run for a second term? Nonconsecutive, of course.”

“You’re forgetting that, while I’m not a politician, I do have friends in high places, Maxwell.” It was the drop of his first name that turned the tables. “I’ve heard the conversations that include your name. I’ve been part of some of those conversations.”

His body language shifted to interest as he leaned forward. “Do tell.”

I leaned back in my seat. “Desperation isn’t a good look for a future vice president.”

He smirked. “There may be conversations happening, yes. But who’s to say for sure until the candidates are solidified after the national convention?”

“You and I both know that presidential candidates are groomed long before their names ever reach the court of public opinion.”

“I’d love your public endorsement, if that’s what you’re offering,” he said.

“I haven’t offered anything. Yet.” I spun the small photo of Catherine and me on our wedding day that I had framed. “But I could be convinced.”

He swallowed thickly as he eyed the photo.

“Convince me, Maxwell,” I said, subtly taunting him with a growing smile. “Tell me why I should whisper your name in those rooms that I get to enter that you can’t. Tell me why I should write a very big check to whoever you’re campaigning with. I’m hearing rumors of it being that senator from New Hampshire. I think you two would make a good pair. If she’s leading the ticket, I’d be inclined to add an extra zero to the end of the check.”

“I care about what you care about,” he said.

I grinned. “Tell me more.”

“You care about your farmers? I’ll put pressure on my administration to raise import taxes. Homegrown only.”

He was an idiot if he thought that would help. Then again, I never thought Governor Grant was smart. But it was the fact that he called it his administration that told me I had him hooked. Ego was an effective lure.

“Is that what you think I care about?”

“You have that cowboy mentality about you. That thousand-yard stare to do whatever it takes to protect your own. Tell me what else I should care about, then. Land grants? Easy. Changes to SBA loan requirements? I can make that happen. Whatever you want. It’s yours.” He grinned. “For the right price, of course.”

“Now, that’s what I like to hear.” I pulled open the desk drawer and retrieved a file. “I was in DC this week and heard your name come up in quite a lot of rooms.” I flipped the folder open and turned it to face him. “Unfortunately for you, they weren’t the kinds of rooms you would be welcome in.”

His face bleached as he scanned the first affidavit, immediately recognizing the name on it.

“The only thing you got right about me is that I do have that cowboy mentality.”

“Hayes—”

“That’s Mr. Wilder to you,” I snapped. “You hurt my wife, and I take personal offense to that. The fact that her mother kept quiet about what you did in order to protect Catherine and herself is noble, but it let you off far too easy. So I spent my downtime in DC asking around about you. After all, I had a hunch that Ms. Foster wasn’t the only woman you coerced and silenced over the years.” I thumbed through the rest of the sworn statements. “I found fifteen women willing to speak up. And those were just the ones still in DC. How many more am I going to find when I start digging around Richmond?”

His face had gone from white to red to blue. It was a rather patriotic look on him. “What do you want, Wilder?” he seethed. “Are you blackmailing me? I already told you I’d do whatever it takes to get you on my side. It doesn’t have to be like this.”

I chuckled. “I’m not into blackmail. It’s not as effective as people are led to believe.”

Like a fool, Governor Grant exhaled and let down his guard. “Then what’s this about?” he spat. “Those relationships were consensual. Having a piece of ass on the side isn’t a crime.”

“Coercion isn’t consent, Maxwell. I don’t give a shit what your wife thinks. I give a shit what my wife thinks. And if she thinks that you should fade into a life of obscurity rather than being on a national ballot, then I will make it happen even if I think it’s far too kind.” I handed him the file of affidavits. “You can have this. It’s already been given to the necessary power holders and quite a few hungry media outlets, though I did ask that they hold the story until I finished having this conversation.” I checked my watch. “Which is right about now.” I opened my laptop browser to the first news station I had sent the story to and smiled at seeing it splashed across the front page. I turned the screen to face him. “That’s a great photo of you, by the way.”

“You—You!”

“Yes, I did,” I clipped. “You can stop with the theatrics. Oh, and you’re being recorded. Audio and video. Virginia’s a single-party consent state, but since I’m all about mutual consent, I had a sign posted by the front door when you walked in, notifying visitors that they were being recorded. Or did you not see that when Hallie escorted you back? I’m sure the national convention is going to love to know that their golden boy is willing to sell political favors.” I tapped the frame that held my favorite wedding photo where Catherine made a breathtaking bride. “Smile for the camera.”

Chapter 27

Catherine