Her Unexpected Hero--A Clean Romance Page 10

  That had been his solution, too. Caleb’s eyebrows shot up as he read the last sentence. Was that a change of heart? Or the smallest seed of the beginning of an attempt to let go of the past?

  Does Ash know he’s doing all this?

  He had a difficult time imagining her older brother had a lot of extra time for media relations. The reserve needed a public-information officer. Why hadn’t one been hired to replace Winter?

  Caleb imagined it would be hard to fill her shoes.

  Not yet, but he will do it. No need to threaten to tell my secret again.

  This time she included an emoji: thumbs up.

  She was helping but she wasn’t a pushover.

  When we hike on Saturday, you’re going to fall in love. You’ll understand why I did what I did.

  The kick of anticipation in his chest was surprising, but Caleb didn’t question it. She meant he’d fall for the reserve and Otter Lake. He was ready to spend time with her. She robbed him of breath and knocked him off balance. Winter didn’t do anything he expected and he was learning to expect that.

  Good. Where?

  He stretched in the warm sunshine as he waited for his answer. Was he behind schedule here? Yes, but things would work out.

  The Aerie trailhead parking lot. Bring water.

  Caleb didn’t answer but he fought the urge to salute. Glancing over his shoulder at the bare peak above the job site, he decided it might be nice to have an even better bird’s-eye view.

  The urge to send a flirty emoji was strong, but what?

  Then he realized he didn’t have the time to waste with flirting or daydreaming about things that should never happen. Had he lost his mind?

  Now he had a date with Winter Kingfisher and a lot of work to get done before that.

  “All right, crew. Everybody’s working hard. Efficiently. There’s time for R and R this weekend.” Caleb navigated the beam down to the ladder nearest the location, where the roof sheathing was being offloaded. “Start bringing those materials up.”

  He had a hammer. Better yet, he pointed at Carlos and the nail gun. Power tools. Nails. And a deadline. It was time to get to work.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  SLIPPING HER PHONE in the pocket of her jeans was easy.

  Convincing herself that texting with Caleb Callaway and setting up a date for Saturday was more difficult.

  “Not a date. An appointment. That’s all.” Winter had one hand on the door to Sweetwater Souvenir when her phone rang. Her first thought was that Caleb wanted to continue their conversation. Why did her heart skip at the suggestion?

  When she read the display, her heart sped up faster than its normal rate. Who would be calling her from Nashville?

  “Hello?” She waved in the window at Leanne and pointed at her phone to explain the delay.

  “Could I speak to Winter Kingfisher?” The smooth male voice was pleasant, but Winter had no idea whom it belonged to.

  “I’m calling from Governor Richard Duncan’s office. He’d like to schedule a meeting, but unfortunately, his time is limited. Would you be available to meet with the governor at one o’clock today?”

  Winter blinked rapidly and tried to do time math calculations in her head. That would leave her just enough time to go in and explain to Leanne, race home to change clothes and then hit the highway. Capitol parking was a nightmare, so she’d need a few minutes to find a place.

  It would be tight, but she had to give it her best shot. “Definitely. I’ll see the governor at one.”

  The call ended before she could ask or say anything else. This was a job interview, wasn’t it? What else could this be?

  After she stumbled through a weird explanation to Leanne, then raced home and changed, and cut short her mother’s questioning, Winter hurried back to the station wagon, wearing her trusty dark suit and her best heels. Her hair? Gray goop was surprisingly effective, so she wasn’t forced to choose between good looks and good relations with her mother.

  Snapping at her mother would leave a guilty mark in her brain.

  Leaving Leanne with her jaw dangling open wouldn’t be easy to forget. They’d made plans to finalize all the shelving displays. Winter was deserting her when she needed help. Another regret.

  But what else could she do? When life handed her an opportunity, she had to seize it. As long as it paid off, she could make amends later. She’d make it priority number one.

  Now all she had to do was figure out how to convince the governor he needed her on his team. She could do that.

  She’d been peppering his office with phone calls and emails ever since her spectacular breakup with Whit had made the news, and she had gotten no response.

  “So what’s different now?” she muttered to herself as she inched into one of the rare open spots marked “visitor” in front of the capitol building.

  The long drive should have given her plenty of time to rehearse what she’d say, but she was as off balance when she located a parking spot as she’d been when she hit Sweetwater’s town limits going five miles over the speed limit.

  “You’re going to be right on time. No need to sweat.” Winter put the car in Park and then inhaled slowly. She held the breath and then exhaled, hoping it would calm the fast beat of her heart. “No need to sweat anymore.” Irritated with herself, she yanked her purse out of the passenger seat and rummaged around to find something to knock the glow off her forehead.

  Presenting a strong, capable facade to the governor mattered. If he was searching for a new press secretary, she had to be fully prepared. Winter put on lipstick, ran a hand over her hair and made another mental note to get to the salon ASAP. None of that mattered now. She could handle anything the media threw at her, and to get a job doing what she was good at on a large stage like this could reset her whole life.

  “Just do what you’re good at, Winter.” She met her stare in the mirror, checked her lipstick, craned her neck to check out the news van she could just see out of the corner of her eye and then slid out of the car. “Great. News reporters. At the capitol.” Why hadn’t she expected that? “Hope I’m not the subject of the story.” Even joking about it reminded her of the bad days of watching Ash sweat in front of a pack of reporters. But it was a joke. There was nothing for news reporters to report. Not about her.

  The heels she was wearing were beautiful. They were completely wrong for hiking from the worst parking spot in the lot up past security to the elevators, but she would pretend none of that bothered her.

  Stepping off the elevator in front of the glass doors leading into the governor’s office took a minute. The lurch of her stomach made her curse the nerves that had never bothered her before. Why didn’t this feel right?

  Representing the reserve in front of audiences big and small made her feel strong. Invincible. Powerful.

  Today she was half a second from running for her life.

  Winter straightened her shoulders, winced at the blister forming on the back of her heel and marched inside the governor’s office.

  “Good afternoon. How may I help you?” the young man seated behind the desk asked, the earpiece he was wearing giving him a slightly robotic air. Winter recognized his voice. He was meant to talk on the phone.

  “Winter Kingfisher. I have an appointment to meet the governor.” She shifted the portfolio she’d grabbed at the last minute from her right hand to her left and pretended to wait patiently while he ran a finger down a list of appointments.

  “Yes, here you are.” He waved gracefully toward a small seating arrangement of a couch and two obviously uncomfortable antique chairs. “If you’ll have a seat, I’ll let the governor’s assistant know you are here.” Then he tapped the earpiece. “Governor Duncan’s office. How may I direct your call?”

  Winter perched on the edge of one of the seats. Standing gracefully would be possible from the
chair, even if the couch would be distinctly more comfortable.

  She expected to wait a bit. That was a common power move, especially from someone as important as the governor, but his assistant materialized almost immediately.

  “Winter, it’s good to see you.” Nia Greene held out her hand. “It’s been too long.”

  “Nia.” Grateful for a friendly face, Winter shook her hand easily. “I’m so glad you’re still here. I was hoping to have the chance to say hello.”

  Nia gestured forward. “Follow me. The governor finished up a conference call so he has a small window. So glad you could make it on such short notice. Everything is going to work out fine. Traffic must have been good. You can never tell what it’ll be like over there toward Pigeon Forge or Gatlinburg. That’s where you’re coming from, right? Guess it’s a good thing it’s the off-season.”

  “Sweetwater, which is pretty close.” Winter considered that as she followed Nia down the hall. “I thought I had an appointment. To discuss employment.”

  Nia paused and wrapped her hand around Winter’s arm. “Well, now, about that...” She slowed her pace, so Winter matched her step for step. “I open all the governor’s mail. I found your résumé, read your letter and realized how lucky Richard Duncan would be to have someone like you on his staff.” She bent her head down and smiled. “And I was pretty sure all you would need is a chance to sit down to discuss your experience with him in order to convince him of that, so here we are. I had Terrell call you to set something up, and I know you’ll make the most of whatever time the governor can give you.” She blinked excitedly as she waited for Winter to acknowledge the truth of her statements.

  Instead, Winter wondered if it was possible to actually make a run from the office. Would the governor’s security detail stop a woman in a dark suit from running for the elevator? What if she kicked off her heels to increase her speed and comfort?

  But Nia was watching carefully, so Winter nodded as she mentally scrambled to switch gears. It had been a kind gesture.

  It was one thing to present herself well to a potential boss when the boss knew that he or she was hiring.

  Selling her skills to a man who had no need for them was a much bigger task.

  She should have stayed home in Sweetwater. Working at the gallery never made her want to run and throw up at the same time like this did.

  Nia squeezed her hand. “You got this, girl. The Winter Kingfisher I now handled scarier challenges than this before breakfast.” She held up a hand. “Wait here. I’ll make sure the governor is available.”

  Impatient with her unexpected nerves, Winter wiped both hands on her skirt. Sweaty handshakes were pretty much the first warning she’d gotten in her first PR classes in college. No one wanted a share of her sweat.

  This was the opportunity she’d told herself she needed, just the slightest door ajar that she could push wide open. Why was she so nervous?

  Nia stepped back out and then motioned her inside.

  When she crossed the threshold, Nia said, “Governor, let me introduce you to Winter Kingfisher. I had the pleasure of working with her on a project when I was still over at the agriculture department. If you’ve never been to Sweetwater, Winter can make you believe it’s a slice of heaven.”

  “Oh, I’ve been to Sweetwater,” Richard Duncan said loudly as he rounded the desk, his hand outstretched for a shake. “Had a real nice visit there when I was on the campaign trail for the first time.” Winter held on tight as he shook forcefully.

  “Yes, sir, I was there. You wanted a chance to view Otter Lake. With otters.” And when the otters were otherwise occupied doing otter things instead of performing for dignitaries, Richard Duncan had reacted like a five-year-old.

  A spoiled five-year-old.

  Why hadn’t that weird visit stuck out in her memory more? It was while she was there, in his office, that she remembered chauffeuring Duncan and his demanding entourage through the reserve, all while Ash grimly glared at her from the back of each photo opportunity.

  That was not a reassuring memory.

  “Well, it seems I’d remember a lady as pretty as you are.” Duncan returned to his desk chair and pointed. “Have a seat. I confess, I’m not sure what’s on the agenda for this meeting. Nia had to remind me you were here. What did you want to talk about?”

  Winter eased down in the leather armchair and wondered if she was prepared to do this, to make the case why he should hire her. This was her chance to make it or break it.

  “Well, Governor, I was hoping to convince you that you needed my services as a media advisor. My experience at the reserve has prepared me to stand in front of your public to answer all questions about your policy and stance on the issues facing Tennessee today.” Winter slipped a résumé out of the portfolio she was clutching like a security blanket and placed it carefully on his desk. “My credentials are outlined here, but you will not read the passion for Tennessee’s history and future in black and white. I have been living that my whole life.” Sometimes less was more. Before she went too far, she needed to pause to reassess the situation.

  Richard Duncan gave her a grin and picked up her résumé. Would she call it sincere? No. But maybe that was the closest his face could get to honesty anymore.

  Immediately, she was irritated at her own cynicism. It stopped her in her tracks. If she believed that he was incapable of honesty or true caring for the people he represented, what was she even doing in this seat? If that was the way his brand of politics had to be, she needed to move on to a new life. Life was too short to be living the biggest part of every day surrounded by people she didn’t trust.

  Why hadn’t she ever felt this while she worked with Whit?

  Because they’d been on the same page every step of the way, until Senior started pushing so hard. So hard. Then they’d decided to get married, since Whit’s chances of being elected were better if he was part of a couple. A large society wedding would cement their happy, stable image and invite large donors to connect with the Callaway family.

  The sinking feeling that she hadn’t been so far above the muck herself made it difficult to sit across from Richard Duncan.

  “Can’t say that I’m hiring any new staff.” He tilted his head from side to side. “But the campaign is ramping up. Whit Callaway’s making more progress than I like, even after the whole lodge story.” Duncan leaned back in his seat. “If only I had another story like that one to lift the sails of this boat.” He tangled his fingers together and studied her face.

  Was he waiting for her to produce a story like that?

  There was no sense beating around the bush. At his warm reception and Nia’s welcome, Winter had wondered if Duncan knew who she was and her former connections.

  But, of course, he did. Studying the opposition was the first step in any campaign and the most important.

  “Sir, I don’t have a scoop for you.” Winter mirrored his pose, determined not to be intimidated into backing down. That was no way to get what she wanted. Did she want to work with Richard Duncan? She wasn’t sure. Did she want a job offer? Yes. So much yes. Her pride needed a boost like that. “But I can help you strengthen your position on any number of issues. It would be a privilege.”

  “Hmm,” Duncan said as he tapped his fingers on the desk. “A woman scorned does bring some awesome power.” He leaned forward. “When my wife is angry, I do my best to find the right gift for her. Don’t need an enemy with her kind of knowledge out there in the world. She’s a real good partner, but it doesn’t do to lose sight of everything she knows. You get what I’m saying. If you don’t, Whit Callaway surely does by now.”

  Before Winter could tell him exactly what she thought about that, about how his wife deserved more than insincere gifts from a man who’d taken vows, he slapped his hand on the desk. “All right. You talked me into it. You want a job, you got it. On a trial basis. We�
�ll do this for a month and regroup before we go into the election prime time. Maybe you take over communications. Maybe you don’t. We’ll see. In the meantime, you can work with the volunteers. Either way, I know I want you working for me, not against me. I can afford to pay an extra salary to better my odds. How’s that?”

  It was the offer she’d hoped for since she’d been plotting from her old bedroom in Sweetwater. She could prove herself and rise quickly to an important position in time for the daily reports nearing the election.

  But it was all wrong. It was about the threat of what she might know, not the chance to show what she could do.

  The idea of working for him had replaced the hard knot of nerves with the nausea some people experience when they’ve made an epic mistake.

  And now she had to extricate herself from the situation.

  “Your offer is interesting.” Why wasn’t she saying no?

  Because she’d worked so hard to land right here. It wasn’t in her to give up easily.

  “Would I be serving in an advisory capacity?” What did she want his answer to be?

  Duncan’s lips turned down as he considered that question. “Well, now. You think your guidance could improve the campaign?”

  “I’m not sure who your top advisor is at this point,” Winter said politely, “but some of your stances might be improved with softer language. For instance, the teacher’s union and their plans to strike for higher salaries. The truth is that most people will vote for anything, even higher taxes, when they believe it is good for their kids. Instead of saying teachers are lucky to have their jobs, you should stress how raising their salaries will impact other programs because you’re committed to a balanced budget.” Winter knew what she was saying would work, but figuring out how she’d come to be on the side standing against teachers would take some soul-searching. Or not. Not even the boost to her pride would be worth it.

  Education had been the cornerstone of every program she and Whit had pursued. Richard Duncan would tear it down to save a buck.