I shake my head. “I want you to put your neck out for the last people in this state who still know how to make something out of nothing. You squeeze us out, you’re left with a few more condos, a couple of empty golf courses.”
He smirks. “That’s what you’re selling me—nostalgia?”
“No,” I say, leaning in just enough. “I’m selling you survival. And if that ain’t enough, I’m offering you a trade.”
His brows lift.
“You’ve got a son with a string of failed developments and a reputation that smells like old fish. I’ve got contacts in the state land office, zoning board, and a few environmental groups I donate to regularly. You make this provision disappear, I make sure your boy’s next project gets a green light with a write-up in theBusiness Journal.”
The senator gives me a measured look.
“I met Duke Wilder for lunch a couple of days ago,” I continue. “He said something about you wanting to discuss your primary campaign with him. Heard it’s gonna be tough with all that new blood in politics y’all keep talking about.”
Otis freezes.
“I haven’t been in touch with Wilder,” Otis says, his jaw clenched.
“Oh, I’m sorry, I think it was Congressman Pinto!” I don’t even pretend to be anything but smug. Pinto is primarying the senator, and he knows that Duke and I are friends, so my information is not onlyrealbut is backed up by Duke.
He also knows that Duke did a one-eighty, going from wanting to get rid of his ancestral land to keeping it, wanting to grow it. It’s not going to make Duke as rich as he would’ve been selling the land, piece by piece to shittydevelopers like the senator’s kid—but he’s now at least able to look himself in the mirror and be proud of his family’s legacy.
I give the senator a moment to process. Let the wheels turn. Let the sweat bead just slightly at his temple.
He sets down his glass a little too hard. “You threatening me, Mav?”
I shake my head slowly, smile just a touch. “I’m just making an appeal from the ranching community of Wildflower Canyon.”
Otis shifts in his seat, jaw tight.
He’s weighing the cost not just of the provision, but of pissing me off. He knows Duke switching sides could shift donors. It could cost him his base. It could cost him his job.
Finally, he exhales. “I’ll talk to the committee chair.”
I nod, then raise my glass. “We’re so grateful to you, Senator.”
And, pleased that you remember whose boots are really planted in the dirt around here, dipshit.
Candace floats back in just then, laughing too loudly at nothing. She flops into the booth beside me like a cat in heat.
“Miss me, cowboy?” she purrs.
Like a hole in the head.
“I do want to talk to you about one other thing,” the senator says, his face pinched, he isn’t happy.
Well, fuck him. None of us are happy with how thereis this relentless pressure to sell our land so people like him can rape it.
He says something about mineral leases and pivoting rural America into “new directions,” but I zone him out.
Instead, I watch Aria as she tucks her hair behind her ear.
She’s wearing no makeup, I realize, as she’s in sharp contrast to the woman sitting next to me.
“I understand,” I say to the senator when he’s done spewing his nonsense. “You know that Duke and I…and others are rooting for you.”
Translation:We will contribute handsomely to your campaign.
Hidden subtext:I will also contribute to your challenger ‘cause I don’t want to get wrong-footed no matter who wins.