Page 16 of Where There's Smoke

“Honestly?” I pushed myself upright so we were more or less eye to eye. “Not a clue. But I’m committed.” I nodded toward the table where Roger and I had discussed this a few days ago. “Your uncle believes in you, and that’s enough of an endorsement for me.”

Jesse’s lips thinned into a straight line. “So you support me by proxy, but you aren’t sure yourself?”

I shrugged with one shoulder.Ninety percent. Definitely ninety percent.“I suppose you could say that.”

“If you’re not really on board, I don’t want you as my campaign manager.” He held my gaze without flinching. “A half-assed campaign won’t get me anywhere.”

“You won’t get a half-assed campaign from me.”

“Maybe not, but I can’t imagine I’ll get much enthusiasm from someone who doesn’t think I’m cut out for the job.” He inclined his head. “So if you’re not on board, tell me now.” A hint of a smirk drew up one corner of his mouth as he added, “You won’t like me if I find out later.”

I laughed. Extending my hand, I said, “I’m in it until the end if you’ll have me, Jesse.”

He regarded me silently, eyes narrowed as if he could read all the thoughts wandering through my head. As my hand hovered in the air between us, I wondered just how well hecouldread me.

Make that ninety-five.

Just as I was about to pull my hand back, he took it, and the warm contact of his palm to mine took my breath away.

Cigarette. In mouth. Now. Fuck.

“My uncle endorses you,” he said with a half grin as he firmly grasped my hand. “That’s good enough for me.”

I chuckled. “I think we’ll work well together.”

“Let’s hope so.” He released my hand. “Have a good night, Anthony.”

“You too.”

And right about the time I’d nearly forgotten how to breathe, Jesse walked back into the house.

Chapter 4

Jesse

I closedthe veranda door behind me and leaned against it. I couldn’t decide what unsettled me the most about Anthony: the fact that he knew I was hiding something, or how far under my skin he could get just by looking at me.

I pushed myself off the door and looked back outside.

I could only see part of Anthony’s face. He was mostly turned away from me, staring out at the Pacific. One hand drifted up to his mouth, and when he drew that hand away to tap ashes into the ashtray beside him, a thin wisp of smoke rose from his lips.

God, now I understood why some people thought smoking was sexy. I’d always thought it was a disgusting habit, but Anthony made it look suave and smooth. He made everything suave and smooth. He made it look hot. Like it was just a way to occupy his mouth until he found something better to do with it.

Shivering, I made myself look away from him. Then I started out of the kitchen toward Roger’s den so I could say good-bye. The farther I walked from the veranda, the more some unseen gravitational force pulled my mind right back toward Anthony. Somehow I had to get used to being around that man, but it wasn’t happening today. Or tomorrow. Or…who was I kidding? It wasn’t happening anytime soon.

At least I’d have Ranya with me in the future. She’d had today off, or she would have been here with us now. Today aside, whenever I was in Anthony’s presence, she’d be there with me. Not that I needed a babysitter or a go-between, but at least if my concentration wandered toward Anthony’s shoulders, or eyes, or voice, or something other than his campaign managing, I’d have her there to fill in whatever I didn’t hear him say.

I went into my uncle’s den, and just as I expected, he was at his battleship-sized desk.

He looked up from whatever he was working on and smiled as he took off his glasses. “You and Anthony come to a consensus about ads?”

I blinked. “About—” Then the piece fell into place, and I remembered the end of the conversation in the living room. “Right, yeah. Ad content. We’re, um…” I gestured at the door behind me. “We’re still working on a few ideas, but it sounds like Anthony knows what he’s doing.”

“That he does.” Roger folded his hands on the blotter. “I’m impressed at how you handle him.”

“I—” I almost choked on my breath. “What?”

He chuckled. “I’ve seen Anthony make a sitting Speaker of the House stutter and stammer. He’s intimidating, son. Even I’ll admit that.”

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