One Sweet Ride
Page 2
Stupid shoes. She grabbed the remote and turned on the television, which was set to the sports channel. Too tired to channel surf, she ordered room service, rolling her eyes as the replay of today’s race events came on TV. Despite the childishness of the act, she stuck her tongue out at the screen when Gray Preston’s handsome face appeared before her.
“Dickhead,” she muttered, then grabbed her phone to check her email, grimacing when she saw one from the senator asking for a status update.
The most important task he’d ever given her, and she’d failed on the first try.
She lifted her gaze to see Gray’s smiling face as he was interviewed by the media.
She’d been thwarted more than once in Washington, and she’d never given up.
Where was her fight, her determination to win? That was how she’d gotten as far as she had. And she was so close to getting what she wanted, to being able to live her dream.
She knew exactly what she needed to do.
She scrolled through her phone and punched the number, grinning as it rang. If Gray thought he could say no and it was over, he’d soon realize she was more formidable than he thought. She’d never go down without a hard fight.
“Mrs. Preston? Hi, it’s Evelyn . . . I’m fine, thank you, but we have a problem. It’s your son, Gray.”
TWO
A KNOCK ON HIS DOOR ROUSED GRAY FROM WHAT should have been his morning to sleep in. He blinked, growled, then rolled out of his bed, pulled on a pair of sweats, and ambled his way to the door as the knocking grew louder.
“Hang on one damn minute. I’m coming.”
He jerked open the door, mentally swearing that if it was Donny or Ian he was going to kick their asses. His eyes widened when he saw his mother standing there.
“Mom. What are you doing here?”
“Don’t you answer your damn phone?” She pushed past him and came inside.
He scratched his head. “Uh . . . my phone.” He looked around, his head still fuzzy from sleep and now confusion. “I don’t know where my phone is. And why are you here?”
Her brown eyes blazed fire at him. “I’m here because you’re being uncooperative.
Why did you say no to Evelyn?”
He was not awake enough for this conversation. Evelyn who? “I need coffee.
Would you like coffee?”
“It’s ten o’clock, Grayson. I’ve already had coffee and breakfast. Were you still asleep?”
“Yeah. Sorry. Let me make some coffee, then I promise to be coherent. Take a seat, Mom.”
He got coffee brewing, then said, “I’m going to go put a shirt on. I’ll be right back.”
Shaking his head, he went back into the bedroom and grabbed a shirt, took a piss, and brushed his teeth, then found his phone and saw that he’d left his phone on vibrate, and that he’d missed four calls from his mother.
Shit.
By the time he got back, the coffee was ready. He poured a cup. “Would you like something to drink? Water, tea, pop?”
“I’m good, thank you. Sit down and drink your coffee.”
Thank God. He downed the first cup as if it were the elixir of life, because he knew why his mother was here. So he went ahead and grabbed a second cup, and by then the caffeine was doing the job. He was at least awake.
“What did you do? Go on a bender after the race last weekend?” his mother asked.
He snorted. “No. It was a long, hot weekend. I’m tired and sleep helps me refuel.”
His mother gave him the once-over. She looked beautiful as always in a summer dress with some kind of sweater thrown over it, her dark brown hair cut in some kind of short bob that grazed her chin.
“Hey, new haircut. You look nice, Mom. I’m glad to see you.”
He bent over and kissed her cheek.
She didn’t smile. “I wouldn’t be here if you’d been cooperative.”
“Oh, so this is my fault. Look, I appreciate that Dad has a new campaign, but that doesn’t mean I have to participate.”
She rolled her eyes. “It’s not just a new campaign, Grayson. It’s the potential to become the vice president of the United States.”
He tried to muster up some kind of reply, but he came up blank.
“Didn’t Evelyn tell you that I’d appreciate your cooperation on this?”
“She did. I still turned her down.”
“I don’t ask you for much, Grayson, and I typically don’t interfere in your relationship with your father, but he’s not the only one who has been in politics for over thirty years. So have I. I’ve stood by his side—through the bad as well as the good—I’ve fought with him through every campaign. And despite what you think, he’s a very good man. If not for the current president endorsing Cameron, your father could very well have gotten the presidential nomination this year. I still believe he’ll eventually end up there. In the meantime, there’s the opportunity of a lifetime waiting for him. Something he’s worked very hard to achieve.”
Gray’s mother spoke with passion, every one of her words punctuated with each day, each month, each year she’d given to his dad’s political career. And yeah, he was listening. It was hard not to.
“It’s also an opportunity for me, something I’ve worked for all my life. I have an agenda, Grayson, a chance to make a difference, to let my voice be heard. You know how much literacy and education means to me at the state level. If your father gets the vice presidency, it would mean so much more exposure for me and for my agenda. A chance to spread this message nationwide, to fight for more funding, to gain national attention for a cause that’s so important for children everywhere. And if by the grace of God your father should someday get to the White House, this would be my platform, and who knows how much attention it would get.”
She stopped and looked him directly in the eyes, and he saw the determination in hers. “If not for him, would you do this for me?”
Loretta Preston was a fire-breathing dragon when it came to the causes she wholeheartedly believed in. He hadn’t once thought about her and what this would mean for her in terms of national exposure for her causes, because he’d been too busy holding on to the grudge against his father.
He was such a selfish asshole.
He reached across the table and held her hand. “I’m sorry, Mom. You know Dad and I don’t see eye to eye and haven’t for a long time. But you know how much I believe in you and in what you do. Hell, I wish you were the one running for president.”
She sniffed, then laughed. “I don’t think that’s my cup of tea, son. And don’t sell your father short. He’s an amazing man and wants to do good things.”
“Well, whatever. I’ll do what I can to make sure your dreams come true.”
She stood and hugged him. “Thank you for believing in me.”
It felt good to feel his mother’s arms wrapped around him. “I’ve always believed in you.”
She pulled back. “You should try believing in your dad. Try talking to him, reconnecting with him. He’s changed, Grayson.”
“I don’t know if I could ever believe that. But I’ll help out the campaign. For you.
And just for you.”
She patted him on the cheek. “I’ll take that. For now. But at some point, I think you’ll see the light about your father.”
He’d seen the light a long time ago. He’d rather stay in the dark.
She checked her watch. “Okay. I have to go. I need to be back in D.C. by tonight.
I’ll call Evelyn and let her know you’ll meet with her at your next city—” She waved her hand and laughed. “Wherever that is. I can’t keep up with you, son. But I always make sure to watch the races. I have one of the staff DVR them for me.”
“Thanks. I appreciate that. And yeah, I’ll work with Evelyn. She called and complained about me, didn’t she?” he asked as he walked his mother to the private car that was waiting for her right outside the gate.
She held his hand and grinned. “Of course she did. She’s a tiger, that one. I’m glad she’s working for our side.”
Gray shook his head. He’d underestimated Evelyn when he’d kicked her to the curb yesterday.
She kissed his cheek and hugged him again. “Be a good boy and behave. We’ll talk soon. I love you, Grayson.”
“Love you too, Mom.”
He waved as the car pulled away. For some reason, his mother could always make him feel like he was a misbehaving eight-year-old again.
He headed back to the trailer with a mental list of a hundred things he’d have to do today before they pulled up and headed to Kentucky.
And then he’d have to deal with Evelyn.
But not until tomorrow. At least he could push her off his agenda until then.
Tomorrow, though, he and Evelyn were going to have a conversation and get a few ground rules straight.
THREE
EVELYN BLOW-DRIED HER HAIR, PULLED IT BACK IN A ponytail, then finished her makeup. She pulled on a pair of jeans and a tank top, then grabbed a long-sleeved white button-down shirt out of her suitcase, and finished off the outfit with a pair of ankle boots.
She’d been grossly overdressed for that first race. A misstep. She should have blended in with the crowd, made Gray feel more comfortable around her, instead of standing out like a bottle of expensive wine shoved in the soda section of the grocery store. Plus it had been damned uncomfortable, both physically and emotionally, dressed in her suit and wearing heels while sitting in the stands with the rowdy crowd.
Everyone around her had stared at her, and rightly so. A designer suit did not go with beer and hot dogs. She wouldn’t make the same mistake again.
Gray Preston was not at all what she’d imagined him to be. Yes, she’d fully read his bio and seen video of him doing pre – and post-race media interviews, and had gone over his family history with his mother, including all his childhood photos and academic and professional biography, but those didn’t compare with meeting the man face-to-face.
He was stunning. Wet with sweat and smelling a lot like gasoline and motor oil, his hair clinging to his forehead and neck, and with his fire suit unzipped, he was the sexiest man she’d ever laid eyes on. And when he’d directed his warm, whiskey-colored eyes on her, something quivered between her legs.
Evelyn wasn’t the type to go liquid over a good-looking man. Washington was filled with hot men, and if anyone was going to get her motor running, one would think it would be a political type. Business suit with a lock on a major office? Now that was her bailiwick. Not some scruffed-up, needed-a-shave grease monkey who craved a hot track over a hot political race. So her libido firing up over Gray Preston likely had more to do with him being the fastest way to get to the White House rather than his good looks and bedroom eyes. She wasn’t the type to fall for a man simply because he was pretty.
Besides, he was stubborn and uncooperative and in her way, and she could already tell this assignment wasn’t going to be easy. She’d rather be by Senator Preston’s side, where she belonged, helping him onto the presidential ticket in November, rather than hand-hold his son and beg for his cooperation in order to get a few hundred thousand votes, even if those potential votes were important ones.
But she knew she’d do whatever it took, so when her phone rang and Gray told her where they could meet, she grabbed her bag, climbed into her rental car, and drove the short distance to the restaurant.
He was already waiting for her at the front door. And he didn’t look happy about it, either.
Tough. She dealt with unpleasant people all the time. His attitude didn’t faze her.
“Good morning,” she said, pasting on her friendliest smile.
He nodded and held the door for her.
Okay, that’s how it was going to be. She could deal. Eventually he’d have to talk to her.
The waitress, who obviously recognized Gray, grinned, pushed back her out-of-control, overprocessed hair, and hurried them to a booth at the back of the restaurant while giving Evelyn a look she wasn’t certain was admiration or pure jealousy.
“Coffee?” the waitress asked. Her name was Aileen and she looked to be in her forties.
“Thank you, Aileen. With cream,” Evelyn said.
“Same here,” Gray said with a smile. At Aileen, of course.
At least she knew now that he wasn’t suffering from laryngitis.
They looked over their menus, and by the time Aileen came with their coffees, they ordered breakfast. Since Evelyn hadn’t had a chance to have a cup of coffee yet— usually her first task of the day, even before her shower—she took a couple quick sips, needing that caffeine surge. She added a couple more sips, sighed in contentment, then lifted her gaze to Gray, finding him staring at her.
“I can survive without it, but if you want to have an intelligent conversation with me, I’m better after coffee.”
“Good to know.” He lifted his cup, and she was struck again by his amazing eyes.
He was very direct in staring at her, too, which she found decidedly . . .
uncomfortable.
She laid her cup down. “Let’s clear the air. You’re obviously not happy with me.”
“You called my mother.”
She resisted the urge to smile at the accusatory tone in his voice. Evelyn loved Loretta Preston, one of the kindest, sweetest, most patient women she’d ever known.
They’d had many conversations together, about both her husband and her son. She’d hoped Loretta had some influence on Gray and she’d obviously been right. The woman was fierce about her causes and didn’t take no for an answer.
“Dickhead,” she muttered, then grabbed her phone to check her email, grimacing when she saw one from the senator asking for a status update.
The most important task he’d ever given her, and she’d failed on the first try.
She lifted her gaze to see Gray’s smiling face as he was interviewed by the media.
She’d been thwarted more than once in Washington, and she’d never given up.
Where was her fight, her determination to win? That was how she’d gotten as far as she had. And she was so close to getting what she wanted, to being able to live her dream.
She knew exactly what she needed to do.
She scrolled through her phone and punched the number, grinning as it rang. If Gray thought he could say no and it was over, he’d soon realize she was more formidable than he thought. She’d never go down without a hard fight.
“Mrs. Preston? Hi, it’s Evelyn . . . I’m fine, thank you, but we have a problem. It’s your son, Gray.”
TWO
A KNOCK ON HIS DOOR ROUSED GRAY FROM WHAT should have been his morning to sleep in. He blinked, growled, then rolled out of his bed, pulled on a pair of sweats, and ambled his way to the door as the knocking grew louder.
“Hang on one damn minute. I’m coming.”
He jerked open the door, mentally swearing that if it was Donny or Ian he was going to kick their asses. His eyes widened when he saw his mother standing there.
“Mom. What are you doing here?”
“Don’t you answer your damn phone?” She pushed past him and came inside.
He scratched his head. “Uh . . . my phone.” He looked around, his head still fuzzy from sleep and now confusion. “I don’t know where my phone is. And why are you here?”
Her brown eyes blazed fire at him. “I’m here because you’re being uncooperative.
Why did you say no to Evelyn?”
He was not awake enough for this conversation. Evelyn who? “I need coffee.
Would you like coffee?”
“It’s ten o’clock, Grayson. I’ve already had coffee and breakfast. Were you still asleep?”
“Yeah. Sorry. Let me make some coffee, then I promise to be coherent. Take a seat, Mom.”
He got coffee brewing, then said, “I’m going to go put a shirt on. I’ll be right back.”
Shaking his head, he went back into the bedroom and grabbed a shirt, took a piss, and brushed his teeth, then found his phone and saw that he’d left his phone on vibrate, and that he’d missed four calls from his mother.
Shit.
By the time he got back, the coffee was ready. He poured a cup. “Would you like something to drink? Water, tea, pop?”
“I’m good, thank you. Sit down and drink your coffee.”
Thank God. He downed the first cup as if it were the elixir of life, because he knew why his mother was here. So he went ahead and grabbed a second cup, and by then the caffeine was doing the job. He was at least awake.
“What did you do? Go on a bender after the race last weekend?” his mother asked.
He snorted. “No. It was a long, hot weekend. I’m tired and sleep helps me refuel.”
His mother gave him the once-over. She looked beautiful as always in a summer dress with some kind of sweater thrown over it, her dark brown hair cut in some kind of short bob that grazed her chin.
“Hey, new haircut. You look nice, Mom. I’m glad to see you.”
He bent over and kissed her cheek.
She didn’t smile. “I wouldn’t be here if you’d been cooperative.”
“Oh, so this is my fault. Look, I appreciate that Dad has a new campaign, but that doesn’t mean I have to participate.”
She rolled her eyes. “It’s not just a new campaign, Grayson. It’s the potential to become the vice president of the United States.”
He tried to muster up some kind of reply, but he came up blank.
“Didn’t Evelyn tell you that I’d appreciate your cooperation on this?”
“She did. I still turned her down.”
“I don’t ask you for much, Grayson, and I typically don’t interfere in your relationship with your father, but he’s not the only one who has been in politics for over thirty years. So have I. I’ve stood by his side—through the bad as well as the good—I’ve fought with him through every campaign. And despite what you think, he’s a very good man. If not for the current president endorsing Cameron, your father could very well have gotten the presidential nomination this year. I still believe he’ll eventually end up there. In the meantime, there’s the opportunity of a lifetime waiting for him. Something he’s worked very hard to achieve.”
Gray’s mother spoke with passion, every one of her words punctuated with each day, each month, each year she’d given to his dad’s political career. And yeah, he was listening. It was hard not to.
“It’s also an opportunity for me, something I’ve worked for all my life. I have an agenda, Grayson, a chance to make a difference, to let my voice be heard. You know how much literacy and education means to me at the state level. If your father gets the vice presidency, it would mean so much more exposure for me and for my agenda. A chance to spread this message nationwide, to fight for more funding, to gain national attention for a cause that’s so important for children everywhere. And if by the grace of God your father should someday get to the White House, this would be my platform, and who knows how much attention it would get.”
She stopped and looked him directly in the eyes, and he saw the determination in hers. “If not for him, would you do this for me?”
Loretta Preston was a fire-breathing dragon when it came to the causes she wholeheartedly believed in. He hadn’t once thought about her and what this would mean for her in terms of national exposure for her causes, because he’d been too busy holding on to the grudge against his father.
He was such a selfish asshole.
He reached across the table and held her hand. “I’m sorry, Mom. You know Dad and I don’t see eye to eye and haven’t for a long time. But you know how much I believe in you and in what you do. Hell, I wish you were the one running for president.”
She sniffed, then laughed. “I don’t think that’s my cup of tea, son. And don’t sell your father short. He’s an amazing man and wants to do good things.”
“Well, whatever. I’ll do what I can to make sure your dreams come true.”
She stood and hugged him. “Thank you for believing in me.”
It felt good to feel his mother’s arms wrapped around him. “I’ve always believed in you.”
She pulled back. “You should try believing in your dad. Try talking to him, reconnecting with him. He’s changed, Grayson.”
“I don’t know if I could ever believe that. But I’ll help out the campaign. For you.
And just for you.”
She patted him on the cheek. “I’ll take that. For now. But at some point, I think you’ll see the light about your father.”
He’d seen the light a long time ago. He’d rather stay in the dark.
She checked her watch. “Okay. I have to go. I need to be back in D.C. by tonight.
I’ll call Evelyn and let her know you’ll meet with her at your next city—” She waved her hand and laughed. “Wherever that is. I can’t keep up with you, son. But I always make sure to watch the races. I have one of the staff DVR them for me.”
“Thanks. I appreciate that. And yeah, I’ll work with Evelyn. She called and complained about me, didn’t she?” he asked as he walked his mother to the private car that was waiting for her right outside the gate.
She held his hand and grinned. “Of course she did. She’s a tiger, that one. I’m glad she’s working for our side.”
Gray shook his head. He’d underestimated Evelyn when he’d kicked her to the curb yesterday.
She kissed his cheek and hugged him again. “Be a good boy and behave. We’ll talk soon. I love you, Grayson.”
“Love you too, Mom.”
He waved as the car pulled away. For some reason, his mother could always make him feel like he was a misbehaving eight-year-old again.
He headed back to the trailer with a mental list of a hundred things he’d have to do today before they pulled up and headed to Kentucky.
And then he’d have to deal with Evelyn.
But not until tomorrow. At least he could push her off his agenda until then.
Tomorrow, though, he and Evelyn were going to have a conversation and get a few ground rules straight.
THREE
EVELYN BLOW-DRIED HER HAIR, PULLED IT BACK IN A ponytail, then finished her makeup. She pulled on a pair of jeans and a tank top, then grabbed a long-sleeved white button-down shirt out of her suitcase, and finished off the outfit with a pair of ankle boots.
She’d been grossly overdressed for that first race. A misstep. She should have blended in with the crowd, made Gray feel more comfortable around her, instead of standing out like a bottle of expensive wine shoved in the soda section of the grocery store. Plus it had been damned uncomfortable, both physically and emotionally, dressed in her suit and wearing heels while sitting in the stands with the rowdy crowd.
Everyone around her had stared at her, and rightly so. A designer suit did not go with beer and hot dogs. She wouldn’t make the same mistake again.
Gray Preston was not at all what she’d imagined him to be. Yes, she’d fully read his bio and seen video of him doing pre – and post-race media interviews, and had gone over his family history with his mother, including all his childhood photos and academic and professional biography, but those didn’t compare with meeting the man face-to-face.
He was stunning. Wet with sweat and smelling a lot like gasoline and motor oil, his hair clinging to his forehead and neck, and with his fire suit unzipped, he was the sexiest man she’d ever laid eyes on. And when he’d directed his warm, whiskey-colored eyes on her, something quivered between her legs.
Evelyn wasn’t the type to go liquid over a good-looking man. Washington was filled with hot men, and if anyone was going to get her motor running, one would think it would be a political type. Business suit with a lock on a major office? Now that was her bailiwick. Not some scruffed-up, needed-a-shave grease monkey who craved a hot track over a hot political race. So her libido firing up over Gray Preston likely had more to do with him being the fastest way to get to the White House rather than his good looks and bedroom eyes. She wasn’t the type to fall for a man simply because he was pretty.
Besides, he was stubborn and uncooperative and in her way, and she could already tell this assignment wasn’t going to be easy. She’d rather be by Senator Preston’s side, where she belonged, helping him onto the presidential ticket in November, rather than hand-hold his son and beg for his cooperation in order to get a few hundred thousand votes, even if those potential votes were important ones.
But she knew she’d do whatever it took, so when her phone rang and Gray told her where they could meet, she grabbed her bag, climbed into her rental car, and drove the short distance to the restaurant.
He was already waiting for her at the front door. And he didn’t look happy about it, either.
Tough. She dealt with unpleasant people all the time. His attitude didn’t faze her.
“Good morning,” she said, pasting on her friendliest smile.
He nodded and held the door for her.
Okay, that’s how it was going to be. She could deal. Eventually he’d have to talk to her.
The waitress, who obviously recognized Gray, grinned, pushed back her out-of-control, overprocessed hair, and hurried them to a booth at the back of the restaurant while giving Evelyn a look she wasn’t certain was admiration or pure jealousy.
“Coffee?” the waitress asked. Her name was Aileen and she looked to be in her forties.
“Thank you, Aileen. With cream,” Evelyn said.
“Same here,” Gray said with a smile. At Aileen, of course.
At least she knew now that he wasn’t suffering from laryngitis.
They looked over their menus, and by the time Aileen came with their coffees, they ordered breakfast. Since Evelyn hadn’t had a chance to have a cup of coffee yet— usually her first task of the day, even before her shower—she took a couple quick sips, needing that caffeine surge. She added a couple more sips, sighed in contentment, then lifted her gaze to Gray, finding him staring at her.
“I can survive without it, but if you want to have an intelligent conversation with me, I’m better after coffee.”
“Good to know.” He lifted his cup, and she was struck again by his amazing eyes.
He was very direct in staring at her, too, which she found decidedly . . .
uncomfortable.
She laid her cup down. “Let’s clear the air. You’re obviously not happy with me.”
“You called my mother.”
She resisted the urge to smile at the accusatory tone in his voice. Evelyn loved Loretta Preston, one of the kindest, sweetest, most patient women she’d ever known.
They’d had many conversations together, about both her husband and her son. She’d hoped Loretta had some influence on Gray and she’d obviously been right. The woman was fierce about her causes and didn’t take no for an answer.
