Yours Forever

“Because you told me to leave them on your desk,” Benjamin Keller answered. “If you have a chance in hell of getting through this campaign successfully, you will have to get it together, Matt.”

“Yes, yes, I know.” Matt ran across a file he’d been looking for last week, and underneath it found the forms his campaign manager had left on his desk. “I found them.”

“Thank God.” Ben’s sigh came through the phone.

Matt had made public his plans to run for the state-senate seat in his district some time ago, but had held off filing the paperwork until today. He would drive out to Baton Rouge this afternoon so he could officially file with the state.

“Log in to instant messenger,” Ben said. “I’m sending you a link to a YouTube commercial your future opponent’s camp released today.”

“Another one?”

Matt ran a hand down his face, cursing as he turned to his computer. He clicked on the link as soon as the message bubble popped up. The video began with a baby screaming at the top of his lungs and the words Little Matthew Gauthier just keeps whining in bold print across the bottom.

Matt’s blood pressure escalated as the commercial continued. It was the same old crap his opponent, Patrick Carter, had been spouting since the moment Matt made it known that he would run for the state-senate seat that had become available following a bribery scandal the former senator had become embroiled in. Carter was a career politician who was used to running unopposed for whatever public office he deemed worthy of his greatness. The man had held nearly every political seat there was.

In this latest ad, Carter attacked Matt’s age, claiming that at thirty-two, Matt was still too wet behind the ears to do any good for the people of District Twelve. But what really pissed him off was his opponent’s insistence that because Matt had been born into Gauthier’s wealthiest family, he couldn’t possibly understand the struggles the rest of the residents faced. He would not allow Carter to pull that silver-spoon-in-the-mouth bullshit on him.

“I’m not even officially in the race yet,” Matt said.

“He’s doing this because he knows you’re a threat,” Ben replied. “You know what this means, right?”

“Forget it, Ben.” Matt put his elbows on his desk and massaged his temples. “I already told you I’m not stooping to Carter’s level.”

“Dammit, Matt, when are you gonna listen to me? Politics is a dirty business. If you want to win this seat, you’ll need to sling some mud. Stop trying to be the stand-up candidate. That candidate never wins.”

“He will this time,” Matt said. “Don’t worry about Carter. The people here can see right through him.”

“Really?” Ben drawled. “If that’s the case, how has he been able to hold nearly every public seat in local government?”

Ben had a point.

Unable to come up with an adequate response to his campaign manager’s very valid argument, Matt said, “Be here at three so we can leave for Baton Rouge.” He ended the call with Ben and buzzed his office manager, Carmen Mitchell. “Carmen, can you get me the file for Mrs. Black’s case? I think the insurance company is about to cave.”

“Will do,” Carmen said.

Matt pushed his chair away from the desk and stood, luxuriating in a total-body stretch. It was just after 10:00 a.m., yet it felt as if he’d already put in a full day. He knew he should have started turning down cases when he’d made the decision to run for office months ago, but his was the only law practice in town. In fact, for more than a century and a half, the Gauthier Law Firm had been the only means for legal representation in a twenty-mile radius. How could he turn anyone away?

He thumbed through the messages Carmen had handed him when he’d come in this morning and ran across at least one person he was pretty good at turning away. He crumpled the green slip of paper with yet another message from that nosy Professor West and tossed it in the trash.

The woman had been the biggest pain in his ass for the past six months. Ever since it had been discovered that this building had once been a part of the Underground Railroad, she’d been calling and emailing, digging her nose in his business. If not for all the stationery he’d have to replace, Matt would have changed the office’s phone number.

He didn’t have time to concern himself with Professor West right now; he had more than enough to worry about. The first item on his plate was to bring some semblance of order to his desk. Carmen had straightened it out yesterday. If she came in and saw the mess he’d made, there would be hell to pay.

Matt did his best to get the files back in order. He opened the bottom drawer and retrieved a can of the energy drink he kept stashed in there. As he chugged half the can in one large gulp, he replayed the YouTube video again, his jaw clenching as he watched the ridiculous commercial.

Carter might have more years on him, but he was the exact opposite of what the people in this area needed. He was one of Leroy Gauthier’s old cronies. Matt’s father and Patrick Carter had had a falling-out years ago, but the two men were cut from the same cloth. Their way of thinking tended to provide more benefits for themselves than their constituents. It was time for a change in the way politics was played around here.

Carmen gave two short raps on the door before she entered the office, carrying a file.

“Thanks,” he said as he captured the beige folder she held out to him. His high-school English teacher, Mrs. Black, was suing the school system’s health-insurance company for lack of coverage. Matt wanted to read through the file again before his telephone call with the school board’s attorney.

He looked up at Carmen, who’d remained standing in front of his desk.

“Yeah?” Matt asked.

“You have a visitor,” she said. The smile tipping up the corner of her mouth sent a tremor of unease down his spine.

“Who is it?” he asked, hoping to God it wasn’t his father. Although his father would never wait in the lobby like a guest. He’d officially passed the Gauthier mansion on to Matt, but the old man still took ownership of this office. It didn’t matter that he hadn’t practiced law here since becoming an appellate-court judge in New Orleans several years ago.

“It’s Professor Tamryn West,” Carmen answered.

“What?” Matt shot out of his chair. “You’re kidding me.”

“I am not,” Carmen said. “Should I send her in?”

“No.” He came around the desk. “What the hell is she doing here? Doesn’t she teach somewhere up on the East Coast?”

“Boston,” Carmen answered. “The woman came all this way, Matt. You have to see her.”

“No, I don’t.”

Carmen gave him a look. He hated that damn look. It was the same look his mother used to give him when she thought he was being stubborn.

“Shit,” Matt cursed. “Send her in. But if she’s not gone in five minutes, you’d better make up some excuse and come rescue me, Carmen. I mean it.”

She laughed. “What are you so afraid of when it comes to this professor?”

“Nothing. I just don’t like people snooping around in my business.”

“Fine. But she traveled well over a thousand miles. The least you can do is give her ten minutes of your time.”

“Seven,” Matt countered. “If she’s not gone in seven minutes, I want you to bang on the door and yell fire.”

Carmen shook her head, still laughing.

Matt went around his desk and sat, then immediately sprang from the seat. He didn’t want to feel as if he was at a disadvantage when he faced an adversary. He went around to the front of the polished oak desk that had occupied this office for the past sixty years and perched against it, crossing his feet at the ankles.

Carmen knocked on the door and opened it. “Professor Tamryn West is here to see you,” she announced.

Matt’s stomach bottomed out as he stared at the woman who’d just walked into his office. “You have got to be kidding me.”

* * *

“You’re Dr. West?”

Tamryn just barely held in the laugh that was precariously close to spilling from her lips. The look of shock on Matthew Gauthier’s face was priceless.

The rest of him looked...amazing.