Damn. “Cheap shot, Evelyn.” He could tell his father to stick it. But he loved his mother and would do anything for her. Well, almost anything. His mother was well aware of his relationship with his dad and she skated that ice carefully, usually not interfering. But for some reason she adored the bastard and supported his political career.
Evelyn gave him a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry. I realize this is . . . difficult for you. But your support would help your father’s campaign.”
“My father is a misogynistic prick who treats women like servants. Why in hell are you working for him?”
Her lips curved. He liked her smile. “Obviously you haven’t spent much time around your father lately, have you?”
“Obviously the old man has you snowed, or you’re utterly gullible.”
She arched a brow. “I can assure you, Gray, I am never gullible.”
He was sure Evelyn thought she knew all there was to know about Mitchell Preston. But Gray had grown up with the man and knew him better than anyone. And the one thing he’d witnessed time and again was how his father treated women. It was a wonder there were any women at all on the campaign given his father’s irresponsible, dickhead behavior toward them, especially if they were young and vapid. And this was a man they were considering for the VP nomination? His father was an overbearing, unemotional douchebag. Gray didn’t know how his mother had stood by his dad for thirty-three years without smothering him in his sleep or poisoning his coffee, but he’d never understood their marriage anyway.
“So, can we count on you for your cooperation?” Evelyn asked.
He couldn’t help but laugh at her audacity to think he’d still be agreeable. “Not a chance. Let me walk you out.”
She looked stunned. Obviously, she was used to people falling at the senator’s feet. He wasn’t one of them.
She stood. “Seriously?”
“Seriously. Sorry, Evelyn, but I don’t kiss the senator’s ass. You’re going to have to find some other way to get votes for him.”
“You do realize this could be beneficial for you. Think of the exposure you’d get, the new fans you could bring on board.”
“I have plenty of fans already, but thanks.” He handed her bag to her, rested his hand on her back, and directed her toward the door.
She stopped and turned to him. “This could be a way for you and your father to repair your relationship.”
He could tell she was grasping at straws now. “My father knows my phone number. And my schedule. If he wanted to repair our relationship, he could have done that years ago.”
That’s when he saw the fight leave her eyes. “Then I’m sorry to have wasted your time.”
“You didn’t waste my time, Evelyn. You wasted yours.” He held the door for her and walked her down the stairs.
She didn’t even look back as she headed toward the parking lot.
Too bad she was here representing his father. Evelyn Hill was one hell of a beautiful woman, and he wouldn’t have minded spending some time with her. But now that he knew she was associated with his father, he wanted nothing to do with her.
*
EVELYN THREW HER BAG DOWN ON THE BED IN THE hotel room, kicked off her shoes, and flung herself onto the chair, wincing as she curled her toes.
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.”