glancing toward the study door, wondering when Carson would return. Praying it wouldn’t be much longer.
Carson surveyed the men seated on the comfortable leather furniture in his study.
The leader, Walter Simino, Assistant Chairman of the California State Republican Party, set his Waterford tumbler of scotch down on the coffee table in front of the sofa.
“You know why we’re here, Carson. The women are waiting and we’ve got supper ahead of us. I don’t see any reason to pussyfoot around. We came here for one reason—to convince you to run for state assembly.”
They had discussed the possibility at length, of course, and he had given the matter plenty of thought.
Carson leaned forward in his chair, his gaze going to each man in the group. “I’m extremely flattered. You all know that. But going into politics isn’t a step to be taken lightly. It takes years of commitment, years of struggle and hardship.”
“That’s right, it does.” This from Ted Meyers, CEO of McMillan Pharmaceutical Labs, a tall man with thinning brown hair. “But what we’ve got in mind would be worth the hard work and it might not take as long as you think.”
“We’re talking about more than just the assembly, Carson.” Walter looked him straight in the face. “A man like you, with your reputation, you could win the assembly seat and in the next election, run for state senate. From there, with the right backing, you could make a run for a seat in Congress. You’re the right age, Harcourt, only thirty-six years old. You’ve got the looks and the charisma, your background seems to be clean as a whistle, and you’ve got the kind of connections that can take a man all the way to the top.”
He’d been thinking that same thing. He had connections that went back as far as his fraternity brothers at the USC. With the right moves, the right people behind him…A vision of the White House popped into his head, but he quickly shoved it away. It was way too soon to be thinking like that. Still, as Walter had said, there was no limit to how far he might go.
“There’s just one thing.” Paul Castenado looked a little uneasy and Carson knew exactly his concern—the nemesis who had plagued him since he was a boy.
“My brother.”
“That’s right. We need Zachary on our team. It’s no secret there’s bad blood between you two. It wouldn’t look good if your brother opposed your bid for office.”
Carson worked to keep his voice even. “I can’t guarantee what Zach will do. He’s a wild card. He always has been.”
“Maybe,” Walter said. “Then again, maybe with the right motivation, we can convince him to our way of thinking. That’s the reason I asked you to invite him here tonight.”
And amazingly, Zach had agreed. Carson didn’t like it. Not one bit. But the fact remained, the men were right. It didn’t look good for a member of a candidate’s family to oppose his bid for office. Even if he and Zach were only half brothers.
While the others waited, Ted Meyers disappeared out the door and a few minutes later, Zach walked into the study. Meyers closed the door behind them.
Walter pointed to an empty seat, but Zach sat down in a chair closer to the door.
“I’m here as requested,” Zach said. “What can I do for you, gentlemen?” His brother’s deep voice held the slightly mocking tone Carson had always despised.
“Thanks for coming, Zach.” Charles Hobson’s smile was friendly. Hobson was a big-money real estate developer in Orange County who was fairly well acquainted with Carson’s brother. Through his legal work, Zach knew a lot of important people in Southern California. “Let me introduce you to the group, then we’ll tell you what it is we’ve got in mind.”
What they had in mind, Zach discovered a few minutes later, was to win his support for his brother with promises of future paybacks. A quid pro quo kind of deal. Zach would agree to back his brother’s bid for a seat in the assembly and in return, Carson would use his influence to help Zach get a judgeship in L.A. County. The money wouldn’t be nearly as good as what he made now, but that kind of power was worth a lot.
Or at least that’s what Walter Simino and the rest of the committee believed. And the fact was, with a judgeship he could do a lot of good.
“Once Carson’s elected,” Simono said, “he’ll garner a great deal of influence. If your brother were to run again when his term came to an end, maybe pick up a seat in the state senate, his power would be even greater. He could be a tremendous help to you, Zach. Who knows, maybe sometime in the future, even a seat on the California Supreme Court might not be out of the question.”
They were tossing out a powerful lure. Not that he believed it would actually happen. As the conversation progressed, Zach mostly kept silent. As he listened, he kept thinking of his brother running for political office. He had heard rumors, but he’d never asked Carson about them. Now that he knew those rumors were true, somehow it didn’t surprise him.
Even here, as Carson sat across the room, he wore a politician’s smile.
The conversation reached a pause and Zach rose from his chair. “I think I’ve heard enough. To be honest with you, there is nothing any of you or Carson could offer me that would be of the slightest interest, not even the idea of a judgeship. In regard to his campaign, I won’t promise my support.”
His brother’s jaw faintly tightened.
“On the other hand, I won’t do anything that could hurt him. I won’t take part in anything that might be construed as opposition to his bid for office and I won’t endorse anyone else. That is the best I can do. Have a good evening, gentlemen.”
He turned and headed for the study door.
“What about supper?” Carson asked, amazed, it seemed, that he was leaving.
“No, thanks. But it’s hot as hell out there. If you don’t mind, I’ll have a drink on my way out.” He left the study and made his way back to the parlor. As he had walked into the house, he had spotted Liz Conners near the bar, speaking to the wives of the men in the study.
Curiosity led him in that direction. Curiosity, he told himself, nothing more.
Ignoring the women, he walked straight over to the bar. “Diet Coke with a lime,” he said to the young man pouring drinks.
“Coming right up.” The bartender poured the drink and set the crystal highball glass down on the bar. Zach picked it up and took a swallow, his gaze on Liz Conners. There was a break in the women’s conversation and Liz walked off by herself. He made his way over to where she stood.
“Zachary Harcourt…I have to say, I’m a little surprised to see you here.”
“Why is that? You don’t think I’m the political type?”
“Actually, no.”
“Then you’d be right. As a matter of fact, I’ll be leaving in just a few minutes. I thought I’d come over and say hello before I took off.”
Her gaze moved over his face as if she was trying to figure him out. A dark auburn eyebrow went up as she noticed the drink in his hand.
“Diet soda,” he explained. “I do have a drink on occasion, just not when I’m driving. I was never an addict or an alcoholic. I was just stupid.”
“So you really have reformed.”
“For the most part. I hope I’m never as dull as my brother.”
Her mouth tightened for an instant. She had a pretty mouth, he thought, full lips softly curved, colored a nice shade of pink.
“You don’t think much of each other, do you?” She looked great tonight, even classier than she had that night at the banquet. He wondered how a psychology counselor afforded such expensive