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And there’s my answer, right there. “That’s very flattering, Senator, but I’m afraid I must decline. If my wife wins her election, which I have no reason to believe she won’t, then I’m going to have my hands full being a full-time dad, and with my own job. I miss practicing law.”

I toss in a little bit of radar chaff to deflect potential problems. “One of the deals we made when we started this was that Owen got to borrow Susa for eight years, and then I’d get to borrow him during the next eight to help me out while Susa’s busy with her job.”

She’s still fixated on me. “And hispartneris okay with this?”

I nod. “They are.”

Boy, are they.

I didn’t even have to lie.

She sighs, relaxing, and I realize we’re off the hook. She’s probably not going to try again. “Well, thatisdisappointing. I was really hoping to come out of this little tête-à-tête with a running mateanda campaign manager.”

“Sorry to disappoint you, Senator,” Owen says. “We’re not your guys.”

“Although,” I add, to throw her a bone, “I would be happy to discuss potential staffing decisions with you, and point you in a few helpful directions. I’m not sure a Florida running mate would be the best decision for you, anyway.”

She settles back in her chair, reappraising me. “Why not?”

“Well, exactly what you said—demographics. You’d be better off with someone from the Midwest, a moderate candidate who can reach a wider audience. Flyover state-friendly.”

“Hmm. I don’t suppose your father-in-law would be willing to sit down with me to talk shop, would he?”

“I can call him and ask, but he doesn’t travel much anymore because of his health.”

“That’s fine. I’ll be back in Tallahassee on Monday morning, and can be in Tampa on Monday evening. I would consider it a personal favor if you could talk to him. I can clear my schedule for any time between next Monday and Friday to talk to him.”

I nod. “I’ll do that.”

She stands, and so do Owen and I. “Thank you very much for your time today, Governor Taylor. Mr. Wilson.” She shakes hands with me and Owen rounds his desk to shake with her, as well as to go open the door for her.

My boy remembers his lessons well.

There’s a Secret Service agent standing just outside Owen’s office door, and he turns when Owen opens it. Guy’s good, but I don’t miss how his gaze quickly sweeps Owen, then me, before a hard, thick wall descends.

Well, then.

Guy’s hot. Even with his suit—or maybe because of it—I can tell from the way his stance shifts just a little that he’s dying to adjust things in his slacks. We apparently rev his motor.

Fair enough. He can eat his heart out, but that’sallhe can do.

And he can rest easy that neither I nor Owen will be his competition for the senator’s affections or attention.

Because if the rumors I’ve heard whispered are correct, this is very likely Special Agent Christopher Bruunt, head of the senator’s security detail.

And, most likely, a guy she’s been fucking.

Getting wrapped up inthatpersonal disaster waiting to happen isn’t anywhere on my bucket list, thank you very much. I’m perfectly happy with the two pets I have.

Even if I wasn’t, there’s already a previous claim on my soul.

I nod to Bruunt and he nods in reply, falling into step behind the senator as they leave, and speaking into his mic to someone about bringing the car around.

I glance around the office just to make sure everything’s okay, then speak with Julia.

“Hold the governor’s calls, please, unless it’s Mrs. Evans or Draymond.”

“Yes, sir.”