The Other Woman

“Maybe I’ll talk to him when he gets back,” she said noncommittally.

“Meanwhile, Carter could get you started,” the senator said. “He grew up building homes with his dad. Didn’t you, Carter?”

Carter put his drink on the table and sat back. Liz could feel his eyes on her, but she refused to look directly at him. She sensed he knew she and Reenie were harboring some kind of secret, even if the Holbrooks didn’t. He seemed to have an uncanny ability to cut through pretenses. “What is it you need?” he asked.

She was reluctant to tell him. Even if he had the ability to help her finish the store, she didn’t want his assistance. She’d find someone else eventually—or muddle through on her own.

“Liz?” Reenie prompted.

“Just a few improvements,” she said at last. “Flooring, paint, some shelves and display cabinets. But please don’t trouble yourself. I’m sure you’re far too busy to be bothered.”

“The job should probably wait for Gabe,” he agreed.

Carter didn’t like her any more than she liked him, Liz realized. That was apparent. But he’d said Gabe’s name with enough emphasis that she shot Reenie another glance. Did he know?

Reenie managed a tiny shrug to indicate she had no idea.

“Or someone else,” Liz muttered.

“Why wait?” the senator asked. “Besides taking a few calls, there’s not much Carter can do for me until the computers arrive. And we’re a week away from that at least.”

Carter’s forehead creased. “I was thinking about driving to Boise to work out of the capitol office until we were up and running here.”

The senator bit into a chocolate-chip cookie. “Don’t bother driving to Boise,” he said. “There’re too many people at the capitol already.”

“But the painting might be difficult,” Liz interjected. “I was hoping to create a marbled effect.”

The senator brushed some crumbs from his mouth. “You can create a marbled effect, can’t you, Carter?”

“I’ve never done it before.”

“Don’t you have a book or magazine on it?” Senator Holbrook asked Liz.

Reenie and Isaac knew she did. She’d shown it to them. “Yes.”

The senator finished his cookie. “Carter?”

“I suppose I could take a look at it,” he said.

“Good. Help Liz for the next week or so, then we’ll see where we’re at with the office.”

Liz waited for Carter to refuse. She guessed he wanted to. But he managed a pleasant voice when he answered. “Okay.” He shifted his gaze to her. “What time would you like me to meet you there tomorrow?”

There was no polite escape. She’d thrown out a problem and the senator had solved it. “How about six?” she said, still hoping he’d balk.

One eyebrow slid up. “Six?”

“I thought we’d get an early start. But if you’d rather sleep in…”

“No. Six is fine.”

Liz knew there was a lot going on behind the unaffected mask he wore, but he gave away nothing.

“Carter would work around the clock if I let him,” the senator said. “He’s amazing.”

“Yes, he is.” Liz held her breath when her voice came out a little flat, but Isaac immediately jumped in to cover for her.

“Sounds like you’ve done a variety of things in your life, Carter. How’d you get into politics?”

Carter finished his drink. “I considered it as a profession years ago. I’m just coming back around to it.”

“Do you think you’ll ever run for office?” Liz asked, remembering Keith’s question to her.

“No.”

Reenie’s chair scraped cement as she scooted forward to reach the cookies. “Why not?”

“I don’t have the right makeup.”

“What kind of makeup does it require?” Liz asked.

He smiled as if he understood that she was tempting him into making a blunder. “Diplomacy. The ability to call your enemies friends. My enemies are simply my enemies. But a politician doesn’t have the luxury of living in black and white.”

“You can say that again,” Holbrook said with a laugh. “Problem is, in politics your friends and enemies are never clearly defined in the first place. That’s why I need someone like Carter to help me keep them straight.”

No longer enjoying her cookie, Liz set the last of it down on a paper plate. “So you’d call yourself a particularly good judge of character, Carter?”

“I’m…cautious,” he said. “It’s necessary in my line of work.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being cautious.” Isaac took Reenie’s hand, in a casual gesture but when Carter wasn’t looking he shot Liz a glower that told her to back off a bit.

For the sake of politeness, she wanted to—but she couldn’t. Not when she had him cornered. “How so?” she asked.

He pinned her to her seat with an unswerving gaze. “I’m a strategist of sorts. I keep an eye on the playing field, attempt to figure out who will do what under a certain set of circumstances and go from there.”

Liz folded her arms. “So you draw assumptions about people based on limited information.”

Reenie’s mouth fell open and Isaac cleared his throat—another attempt to warn her she was being rude. The senator and Celeste shifted uneasily in their seats. But Liz was too intent on making her point to change course. She didn’t even blink as she waited for his answer.

“Don’t we all?” he countered.

Liz thought she could guess at the assumptions he’d made about her. Past events didn’t paint her as particularly astute or perceptive. “Innocence can make people blind.”

“I wouldn’t argue with you there,” he responded.

“Maybe that’s not a bad thing,” she said. “Maybe there are too many cynics in the world already.”

He scratched his head. “From what I’ve seen, the innocent rarely survive.”