“Have fun,” I say as I start to walk away but then stop. “Okay, don’t have too much fun.”
She giggles in a completely non-committal way, and I have to leave her because the success of this whole thing rests on my shoulders.
I got this.
Thirty-Six
ALL LEATHER AND LIES.
WYATT
The fundraiser is alive—boots on hardwood, bourbon in crystal, and every conversation that needs to happen, happening.
Cash's band knows what they're doing—loud enough to keep energy up but not so loud you can't hear yourself think. Couples two-step across the floor while my rodeo buddies swap stories with county commissioners.
I'm leaning against the bar with Dad, Grandpa, and Mom, watching it all come together smooth as a perfect ride.
"I have to hand it to your girl," Grandpa says, his weathered hands wrapped around a glass of bourbon. "She knows how to throw a party."
Dad nods, his eyes following Martinez and Kinsleythrough the crowd. "She's been working that senator for an hour straight.”
I track Kinsley across the room as she guides the Martinezes from group to group. That blue dress catches the light every time she moves, and I can't look away. She's beautiful and brilliant, and somehow, she's mine.
"Look at Eleanor Whitmore," Dad murmurs with barely contained satisfaction. "Woman looks like she's been sucking lemons."
"Couldn't happen to a nicer family," Mom says behind her glass.
I glance toward the corner where the Whitmores occupy a high-top table, looking about as comfortable as vegetarians at a barbecue. Eleanor's smile is brittle enough to crack under pressure.
"Is it me, or does Maxwell look like he's been through a wringer?" I study the man more closely. His face carries a grayish pallor and when he reaches for his drink, I notice the slight tremor in his hand.
Grandpa's expression sharpens. "Man's lost twenty pounds since spring. That suit's hanging off him."
“I think he’s lost weight since that day Dad and I rode over with the survey flags.” I squint for a better look.
Dad nods. “Maybe his conscience finally caught up with him.”
The music shifts to something slower and couples drift onto the dance floor. Part of me wants to cut across the room and claim Kinsley for a dance, but she's in full political operative mode right now, and I know better than to interrupt when she's working her magic.
"Heads up," Grandpa murmurs. "Here comes your girl with the guest of honor."
I straighten as Kinsley approaches with Senator Martinez and his wife. This introduction represents everything we've worked toward. I know she was going to make sure she warmed him up with lots of celebrities before bringing him over to us. Technically, I’m one of the prizes he’ll want to collect a picture with tonight, so the intro is supposed to be natural.
"Senator Martinez, Mrs. Martinez," Kinsley says with warm formality, "I'd like you to meet the Halloway family." She proceeds to start with Grandpa and work her way down the family tree, ending with me. “And this is NFR bull rider Wyatt Halloway, I’m sure you’ve seen him ride before.”
When the senator turns to me, his expression shifts to recognition. It takes me off guard and I loosen my grip on his hand a little too soon, but he hangs on. His grip is harder than required for simple courtesy.
"I saw him ride once in Texas. I have to say, it's good to finally meet you, Wyatt." His tone carries an edge that makes the hair on my neck stand up and I can’t help but wonder what I did to offend him. "My daughter's told me so much about you I feel like we're practically family.”
Daughter? Kinsley didn’t mention anything about this. "Is she a rodeo fan?" I glance at Kinsley, but her eyebrows raise in question. Clearly this is news to her too.
"She's your biggest fan," Mrs. Martinez slaps my arm. "And from what I hear you're her fan too."
I am now at a complete loss. "Is she here?" I ask, wanting to tug on my collar. They act like they know a lot moreabout me than I know about them and it’s making me want to run for the hills.
"She should be here any minute," Mrs. Martinez confirms. She pouts out an overly large bottom lip and says, "She was feeling a little under the weather."
"That's a shame," Mom sympathizes with her.