The Marriage Campaign

Maybe that’s why he seemed to run through girlfriends like water. Dating was like shopping. When a guy went to the store, he found what he wanted and bought it. If not, he left. Mark wasn’t a big believer in wasting time. Wrong woman—nice to meet you, but goodbye.

However, he admitted he was ready to settle down, which was why he was out there searching. His fraternal twin sister Joann had three kids already, and Mark had none. He liked kids and wanted a houseful, but only after marrying the right woman. If he found her. When he did, he wouldn’t let her go.

Mark lifted his foot off the accelerator, slowing the expensive sports car to only five miles above the speed limit. Just six more miles and he’d be there, amongst the people jockeying for position, for political favors, for a slice of power that, in the end, was meaningless. Mark shivered despite the climate-controlled air. Joann’s friend Lisa had always loved politics.

Lisa. Mark frowned. Joann had attended the University of Missouri and become best friends with her three Rho Sigma Gamma pledge sisters. Nicknamed the Roses, all four had been inseparable until graduation. After that, life had gotten in the way. Oh, they kept in close touch and still maintained confidences, but seeing one another was hard to do when you lived in different towns and had different obligations.

That girl at the funeral today had reminded Mark of Lisa. Same blond hair, same overall build. Attractive. But he hadn’t seen Lisa since Joann’s wedding eight years ago, when Lisa had disappeared and stood him up. His best friend Caleb’s girlfriend had gotten sick, and Mark had walked her outside to get some air. By the time he’d found Caleb and passed off the sick girlfriend, it had been well past the time Mark was to meet Lisa. She hadn’t waited, and after a fruitless search, Mark had gone to bed alone.

And since Lisa had been from Warrensburg, on the other side of the state, he doubted that had been her freezing at the cemetery. For a second he wondered if she was married and made a mental note to ask Joann.

Mark whipped the car onto the Broadway exit ramp. Almost there. Mark braked and shook off the melancholy. Duty called.

“LET’S HOPE THERE WILL be some single men here tonight.”

Upon hearing Andrea Bentrup’s announcement, Lisa looked heavenward, studied the pattern on the hotel ballroom ceiling and mentally counted to ten. Unlike her twenty-two-year-old area assistant whom she’d been working with for the past week, Lisa had been around the political block a dozen more times than the wide-eyed, idealistic, nonstop romantic standing in front of her. Love and politics did not mix. Ever.

Lisa plastered on a businesslike expression and faced Andrea. Hiring her hadn’t been Lisa’s idea last November; Herb had traded political favors with Andrea’s father, a very influential party member. Except for her rabid wishes to settle down and marry, Andrea did a decent job. She was a natural social butterfly who easily made everyone comfortable.

“Well, Andrea, you’re free to hope, but don’t hold your breath. Political fund-raisers aren’t the place to find single men. Besides, our job isn’t about finding a husband but helping Herb win the election.”

Andrea’s skin turned the color of her hair, a light shade of red. “Oh, please don’t think I’m saying that I don’t want to help Herb win the election. But at least some of these guys have to be going stag and, darn it, I don’t want to work all my life.”

“No one does. It’s called retirement,” Lisa said flatly.

“I’m only doing this job until I settle down,” Andrea proclaimed. She wobbled a little on the two-inch heels she’d worn to bring her almost to Lisa’s five-eight height. Lisa had to admit that Andrea was cute, which hopefully for some man made up for her singular desire to be wed.

“Just make sure you have all the place cards in the correct spots,” Lisa said as she turned her attention back to her own tasks. She’d been idealistic once—leave college, find the right job, find the right man and live happily ever after. The day of graduation she’d toasted to her future, sharing a bottle of champagne with her three best friends in the world. They’d held their glasses high, proclaimed they weren’t going to settle for anything until they had the proverbial brass ring tight in their grasps.

But life wasn’t perfect. Brass rings tarnished.

Tori, the computer-science major in the group, had been ready to make Microsoft worry. She’d joined an upstart St. Louis–based computer company called Wright Solutions, where she’d fallen into a rut.

Cecile Duletsky had been determined to be Norman Lear, Sidney Sheldon or Aaron Spelling and develop television shows. She’d made it as far as working behind the scenes on a talk show.

And Joann, the woman with the promising television news anchor job ahead of her? Less than three months after graduation she’d learned that she was pregnant, married her college sweetheart and become a stay-at-home mom of three with a diploma that collected dust. Lisa had her suspicions that, while Joann was happy, she still had some regrets.

As for Lisa, she finally had the right job but hadn’t found the right man. Oh, she’d thought she had, until he’d broken it off and subsequently married. Politics was all about alliances, and Lisa had learned that particular lesson the hard way a little over a year ago.

And Bradley Wayne was still her boss. Although she’d branched out and formed her own company, until Herb’s campaign was over, she reported to Bradley.

She surveyed the ballroom again, her radar not sensing any current doom on the horizon. The fact that Professionals for Business Growth had endorsed Herb was excellent. While Herb was a shoo-in for winning the party primary in August, he then would have to defeat Anson Farmer. Even though Herb was ahead in the popularity polls, most analysts predicted that November’s gubernatorial election would be close.

But when Herb did win in November, he would become her most successful and highest placed political candidate ever. That feather in her cap would make the endless apartments and lack of permanent furniture worth it. She’d fill a position on his staff. Herb had further ambitions beyond reviving Missouri, and Lisa could picture him in the White House. She planned to do all his campaign fund-raising and ride his coattails all the way there.

“There you are.” Mrs. Herbert Usher—or Bunny, as she was known—swept into the hotel ballroom like a woman on a mission. At fifty-seven, Bunny had let her hair turn white and the locks waved around her ears. She reminded Lisa of a younger Barbara Bush. “Lisa, Herb’s speechwriter came down with a stomach bug and Herb’s not satisfied with tonight’s address. He wants you to fix it.”

That was Lisa, jack-of-all-trades. “Tell Herb not to panic, and as soon as I finish the final meeting with security, I’ll head up to the suite and do a quick rewrite. I also have some thank-you cards Herb needs to sign so that I can pass them out at the end of the evening.”

Bunny appeared relieved. “Wonderful. Between us girls, I’m late getting my hair done. Appearance is everything, especially with Anson Farmer’s young wife being a former model. The press fawns on her, salivating fools.”

“Everything will be fine,” Lisa said, touching her own hair to make sure that the redone style hadn’t budged. It would crush somewhat when she put the headset on, but that didn’t matter; being in touch with her crew was more important. Nothing would go wrong tonight—she wouldn’t let it. She’d climbed too far to fail now.

Two years ago, when Lisa had begun working for Bradley, Herb had used multiple political fund-raisers and campaign managers. In the past few weeks Herb had narrowed his focus to one fund-raiser—Lisa—and one campaign manager, Bradley Wayne, her ex. Technically Bradley was the boss, Lisa second in command. Lisa supervised four area assistants who were also technically self-employed: Andrea in St. Louis, Kelsey in Kansas City, Drew in Springfield and Duane in Jefferson City. Duane had taken Lisa’s place last week when Herb had promoted Lisa to oversee the entire state, at which time Lisa had relocated to campaign headquarters—St. Louis, Herb’s hometown.

“Don’t worry, Bunny,” Lisa said, concentrating on the task at hand. “We’ll have no complications tonight. You’ll see.”

“That’s great,” Bunny said as she pulled out her cell phone and prepared to take flight. “I’ll see you upstairs in a few minutes.”

The first complication Lisa faced came in the afternoon, when the hotel banquet staff made a substitution on the dinner menu. Thankfully she caught the problem early enough and handled the situation easily. The second issue was more difficult.

“Lisa, Larry Smith isn’t coming!” Andrea’s words blared into Lisa’s ear.

“Larry Smith?”

“Yes. I had him scheduled to pass the hat.”

“And he’s a no-show?” Lisa said into her headset, a twinge of panic constricting her chest. Now five-thirty, people had been entering the ballroom since five for the six o’clock dinner, and Lisa stood near the podium, once again double-checking that everything was ready for Herb’s arrival. She’d left this part of the event totally to Andrea.

“Yes, he’s a no-show,” Andrea repeated, her own panic evident. “He sent his son instead. What are we going to do? When I set this up weeks ago, I didn’t think this would happen.”

“It did,” Lisa said, her mind churning. Unlike Andrea, Lisa wasn’t a nervous newbie. Still, Lisa took a moment to berate herself. She’d had to train Duane and his staff or she’d have been in St. Louis earlier to supervise. And Andrea had assured her…. Lisa focused.

All problems had solutions—she just had to find them. She reviewed what she knew. Larry Smith was an old colleague of Herb’s and he was to make the first two-thousand-dollar donation and start “Pass the Hat.” While the fund-raising dinner brought in soft money from charging exorbitant meal prices, Pass the Hat was a fun event where the hard money was tossed in.

Tonight’s event had five hundred people who had spent five hundred per plate. If an average of one thousand dollars per guest was received, Herb would gain five hundred thousand in hard money for his campaign coffers. That had been the goal Lisa had set.

“You said he sent his son instead,” Lisa said.

“Yes,” Andrea answered. “Larry Smith was going to bring his wife. His son arrived by himself. Now there’s an empty space at that table.”

Empty spaces were not great but certainly livable.

“Calm down and let me think. Ambruster’s out, and so is Bennington,” Lisa said, naming some of Herb’s friends. They’d agreed to pass the hat at future events that were equally important, so she’d prefer not to use them now. Larry Smith was the vice president of Professionals for Business Growth, hence his suitability tonight. Perhaps all wasn’t lost if he’d sent a replacement.

“I want to talk to Larry Smith’s son,” Lisa said suddenly. “Maybe his father told him what’s going on. Where is he?”

“He’s the hot one by the door, talking to the woman with the silver hair and glittery red dress. You can’t miss him. I told you there’d be single guys here tonight.”

Lisa couldn’t care less about the younger Smith’s marital status. She trained her gaze across the wide expanse of the ballroom. Hot one by the door? Mere seconds elapsed before she located the man to whom Andrea referred. Even from across the room, his magnetism commanded. The guy defined tall, dark and handsome.

She could tell he wore custom tailoring, he was at least six feet tall and he had a full head of dark, silky hair. Her breath lodged in her throat as he laughed at something someone in the small circle surrounding him said. He reminded her of the man from the funeral.

No wonder Larry Smith’s son had such a multiage group of ladies crowding about. The man knew how to exude sex appeal. But none of that mattered to Lisa, not when her evening, her career and five hundred thousand dollars were at stake.

“I’ve spotted him,” Lisa told Andrea via the headset. “I’m making my way over there now.”

“I’ll handle him if you’d like,” Andrea said hopefully.

“I’ve got it,” Lisa commanded. “Hey, the St. Louis County executive is coming through the doorway.”

Andrea sighed her disappointment. “I’m on it.”

Lisa wove her way across the ballroom. Her target grew larger than life as she closed in, and she could see his hair wasn’t one solid color: the ballroom chandeliers illuminated natural highlights that lacked any hint of early gray.

Close-up, the man was even more impressive, with wide shoulders and narrow hips. Lisa predicted that under his perfectly pressed shirt there was probably a washboard stomach without an ounce of fat. Even from behind she could tell he was the entire package: the gorgeous, moneyed exterior and the type of male physique that, when naked, was every woman’s fantasy.

Lisa swallowed and reminded herself that, like this morning, she didn’t have time for fantasies or dalliances, even if the man was so gorgeous he made Tom Cruise and Colin Farrell look ugly.

Besides, she hadn’t had much appetite for a social life this past year. Concentrating on her career was much smarter than embarking on another futile search for a man. Lisa wasn’t a woman who had an issue with sleeping alone. This situation was nothing she couldn’t control. “Mr. Smith?”

He turned, leveling a dark brown gaze at her.

Lisa froze as her breath lodged in her throat.

Damn. How dare the fates be unkind? Come on, what were the odds? St. Louis had well over a million people. Smith was a common last name. Everyone called his dad Bud, not Larry. But the memory raced back, proving that eight years was not enough time. How dare it be…him.

Chapter Two

“Lisa?”

She swallowed once and plastered on her most professional and courteous smile. “Hello, Mark.”

Those brown bedroom eyes widened at the fact it was her, and Lisa forced herself to act aloof, unaffected. She already knew what he saw: a woman in a demure cocktail dress designed to downplay any sexiness, and sensible designer heels that added only an inch to her height. A thin wire headset with an earpiece wove its way through her blond updo, and she’d lowered the mouthpiece toward her collarbone.

She held her own, refusing to deviate from her mission. “You’re here as a stand-in for your father, I believe?”

“Yes,” he replied, his intense gaze roving over her as if imprinting this moment onto his memory. Despite her resolve, she flushed slightly as he finished his appraisal. He frowned suddenly. “I saw you at the funeral this morning, didn’t I?”

She took a breath and admitted, “Yes. My aunt’s cousin.”

“Marvin Albertson,” Mark said, his tone holding a slight edge of something indecipherable.

“Yes.”

His voice dropped. “Well, imagine that. Fate is certainly interesting, isn’t she?”

“Very,” Lisa said, quite aware that the well-dressed women surrounding him wore intrigued expressions as they listened to the odd conversation.

As if she’d tell them the whole story. That Mark Smith, ultimate playboy, made out with her in a hallway during his sister’s wedding reception but then dumped her for someone else. Mark always did run through women like water and he’d proven that Lisa was no exception.

She blinked. She was older and wiser. She met hundreds of people a week and kept copious notes written on the backs of business cards and Rolodex files. Being in town only a week, she hadn’t yet looked up Joann’s parents, Mary Beth and Bud. Lisa curbed her sigh. Even though she’d given Andrea loose rein, Lisa was ultimately responsible for tonight’s dinner. She hadn’t double-checked the guest list, a mistake for which she didn’t have time to berate herself. Not when she had an evening to salvage.

“Mark, while it’s good to see you again, would you mind if we spoke in private for a minute? I’m Herbert Usher’s campaign fund-raiser and I need your help.”

His shoulders lifted in a slight shrug, indicating he’d understood that her crisp, professional tone meant she didn’t want to reminisce. His navy-blue suit moved effortlessly, indicative of its custom tailoring. This man did not buy off the rack.

“I don’t see why not,” Mark agreed. He gestured a manicured hand toward the exit door. “Lead the way. Excuse me,” he said to the ladies.

“Thank you,” Lisa said, ignoring the women’s collective exhales of disappointed curiosity. A prickle, however, ran up her spine as she led him out the ballroom doors. She could feel his gaze glued to her backside. “We have a small office set up in here.”

She began to open the door that led to a smaller meeting room, but his powerful arm extended past hers and pushed the door inward. His proximity provided a whiff of subtle cologne. He smelled divine—whatever designer brand he wore had blended with the smell of his skin to create a musky, sensual scent all his own.

Whoa. She could not allow herself to be affected. The man was a first-class jerk.

“Thank you,” she said politely, stepping past him with an outward composure she’d long mastered and at this moment certainly needed to hide her inner shaking. Mark Smith oozed pheromones or something, for he’d caused her body to react, which hadn’t happened since…well, since that night at Joann’s wedding. Her only solace was that no one had seen the kiss, and she’d never told a soul of her humiliating moment.

Lisa wasn’t one of those people who liked to air her stupidity and failures like dirty laundry.

She maintained her poise, making certain he didn’t notice anything out of whack as the door closed behind them. “I appreciate your coming with me.”

“You’re welcome,” Mark said. His eyes narrowed. “No hug for a long-lost friend?”

“I’d rather we keep this professional,” Lisa said. She made sure the headset was muted so she wasn’t broadcasting the conversation to Andrea or Bradley.

“Have it your way,” Mark said, his momentary cheeky grin fading. “What was it you wished to discuss?”

Although his tone never changed, his voice was low and naturally husky, and she concentrated on the challenging task ahead. “Let me be direct. Your father planned to start what we call ‘Pass the Hat,’ which is the donation part of the evening. It’s fun and expected, but the first check has to come from someone enthusiastic about the campaign.”

“That person was to be my father.”

She nodded, optimistic he understood. “Exactly. Herb can’t stand up at the podium and solicit. While he can make phone calls and ask a person directly, to make a blanket request for money during a fund-raising dinner is still considered extremely tacky and in poor taste.”

His brows knit closer together as he contemplated this. “My father didn’t tell me anything about starting a hat pass when we talked.”

Something about his cautious tone put her on the immediate defensive. He could not back out!

“He also didn’t tell Herb he wasn’t coming,” Lisa inserted smoothly. “Anyway, we were depending on him for tonight’s campaign jolt.”

He took a deep breath, his broad chest expanding and contracting. “My father must have forgotten. You knew he had a heart attack, didn’t you?”

“Joann mentioned it,” Lisa said, “but she also said he was recovering well.”

“He’s fine, except that he’s pretty much retired and on doctor’s orders not to do anything too strenuous as he builds up his strength. Anyway, my mother came down with a cold, and he’s home all worried about her.”

“Is she okay?”

“It’s just a spring virus. But Dad canceled everything. I attended the funeral in his place. Even my standing in for him here was just decided this morning.”

Poor Bud. Lisa had always loved Joann’s parents. But this conversation wasn’t getting her anywhere and she checked her mounting frustration. If Mark wasn’t going to help, she had a problem to solve and no more seconds to waste with a man who’d already destroyed her illusions once. “I do understand. I’m sure I can find someone else if you’re uncomfortable stepping into his shoes.”

“I’m never uncomfortable in my father’s shoes.”

His sharp and direct retort surprised her, and Lisa’s eyes widened. She’d barely processed his reaction before the door opened and Andrea entered the meeting room. She smiled apologetically.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, but I have your name tag ready, Mr. Smith,” Andrea said, handing him the computer-generated “Hello, my name is” sticker. “If you need anything else, don’t hesitate to tell me.”

“Thanks.”

“No problem,” Andrea said.

He gave Andrea a cheeky smile, one that Lisa knew worked wonders on women. It had once worked on her. And his grin had the desired effect on Andrea, for she shot Lisa a wistful look as she exited. Lisa kept her lips in a straight line.

“How much was my father going to give?” Mark asked suddenly, his deep voice penetrating her jumbled thoughts. “If he was going to pass the hat, I’m sure you know the exact amount and even had a nice little speech all scripted for him. Now, if you will explain this process to me, I’m sure we can come to some solution that is agreeable to both of us.”

“That would be preferred,” Lisa admitted as she regained her footing. She never lost her balance in the political arena. There was no reason disequilibrium should be happening now, especially with this man.

He smiled at her, but only in a patronizing way designed to establish that the situation was totally under his firm control. “Of course a solution would be preferred,” Mark said. “I’m first and foremost a businessman. I can handle a curve. You’ve certainly given me those before.”

She had? What was he talking about? She didn’t have time for this nonsense or digs into her character that she didn’t understand. “Your father was going to donate two thousand dollars, the maximum donation he could make.”

TWO THOUSAND DOLLARS? Mark froze. The amount of money didn’t shock or faze him; his father was extremely generous, and Herb had been a college fraternity brother. Everyone knew how deep those bonds could run. And two thousand dollars was chump change for the wealthy Smith family.

Lisa took a step back. “If that’s too much…” she was saying, her concentration fully on the check that was getting away and the problem she had to solve. He found her actions and conundrum slightly irritating.

Eight years had changed her, and at this moment Mark wasn’t sure he liked this older and wiser version standing before him. Lisa used to be the one who’d give her shirt right off her back to help her friends. She was the kind who’d take in every stray animal she ran across.

She’d been the one he’d wanted until, instead of meeting him, she’d disappeared into the night without a goodbye. Heck, kissing her in the hallway had made him feel like a superhero. Her disappearance had been a slap in the face.

As for this Lisa…The hardened political dynamo standing in front of him was concerned only about her event and his check. He glanced at her hand—surely she should be married by now.

But no, her ring finger was bare.

“Mark, are you okay? As I indicated earlier, I can find someone else if two thousand is too much money.”

“The money’s fine,” he said crisply, poise regained. His gaze roved over her. She was still beautiful. He’d been attracted to her ever since their first meeting years ago, when she’d first become Joann’s roommate their freshman year.

And Mark was a firm believer in taking the opportunities that fate granted. He’d seen Lisa twice now in one day. She’d run out on him long ago, but she couldn’t run this time. She needed something from him, and he wanted an explanation.

He peered closer, studying the way her blue eyes flickered and the dimple to the left of her mouth twitched. She probably wasn’t even aware of that unconscious movement. So she wasn’t as composed as she thought, which was good.

He shifted his weight and narrowed his gaze at her. “You know, Lisa, I would have thought you’d be married.”