it. Typical of a politician. Unless there were a baby he could kiss or a cause he could exploit, he wouldn’t take notice of anything past the end of his own nose.
Raven Mahoney glanced at her watch impatiently, waiting for the valet to bring her car around. Her sleek black hair swayed with the jerky movements that clearly stated her irritation.
He’d recognize her anywhere. Even in the misty night, he could see her beauty every bit as defined as on television.
He took a long, slow drag from his cigarette and watched as a champagne-colored luxury car approached. The politician exchanged what was presumably a tip, for his keys. He opened the door to Raven’s car for her and she slid not-so-gracefully inside.
They drove away, leaving him to stare until the taillights vanished from his view. After one last drag from his cigarette, he tossed it to the ground and headed for the driver’s-side door.
Anger burned in him. But now wasn’t the time for a confrontation. That would come later. After everything was in place.
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