“No. I’m fine. But it was nice of you to offer.”
Wasn’t she polite? She slid into the booth and crossed one long leg over the other.
He cleared his throat. “Okay, then, what did my father send you all the way to Michigan to talk to me about that one of you couldn’t have called to say over the phone?”
She swept a curl behind her ear and folded her hands together on the table before focusing those gorgeous clear blue eyes directly at him. “As you are aware, or at least I hope you’re aware, now that Senator Preston has dropped out of the presidential race, he has a good chance at being considered a viable candidate for vice president in the election this year.”
He leaned back in the booth. “I knew he dropped out of the race, but didn’t know he has a shot at the VP spot. Good for him. What does that have to do with me?”
“He’d be very grateful if you could assist him in his efforts.”
Now this was a first. His father hadn’t wanted anything to do with him for a long time now. “Is that right? And how am I supposed to help him?”
“You’ve done very well for yourself in this sport, Mr. Preston—”
“If you’re going to keep talking to me, Evelyn, you’d better call me Gray.”
She opened her mouth, paused, then nodded. “All right, Gray. As I was saying, you’ve become very successful in auto racing, which means you have a very dedicated fan base. A very dedicated nationwide fan base.”
Evelyn sure was pretty, and there was a light sprinkle of freckles across the bridge of her nose that spread to her cheeks, which did nothing to diminish how damn sexy she was, or how commanding her eyes were. Her beauty also didn’t distract him from the very clear message she had just delivered on behalf of his father.
“I get it. A very dedicated nationwide fan base of registered voters who you think I could persuade to cast a few for my dad and the presidential candidate. And if I agree, that makes Mitchell Preston an even more attractive potential vice presidential candidate, what with all those critical southern votes I could help him garner.”
She didn’t avert her gaze. “Yes.”
“Why didn’t he come to me when he was running for president?”
“He would have, had his presidential bid continued.”
“Huh. You do realize my father and I don’t exactly see eye to eye on a lot of things, political issues included.”
“I know a lot about you, including your likes and dislikes—politically, that is.”
He wanted to laugh, but he could tell Evelyn was doing her best to perform the job she’d been assigned. It wasn’t her fault she’d been assigned to Mitchell Preston’s uncooperative sonofabitch of a son. “I’m surprised, given that I’ve never spoken publicly about my likes or dislikes—politically, that is.”
She lifted her chin. “Your father has briefed me.”
Now he did laugh, then took a long swallow of beer before answering. “Has he? My father doesn’t know shit about me. We don’t speak much at all. And since I inherited my trust fund from my grandfather when I turned twenty-five, he can’t blackmail me into giving him what he wants by refusing to give me money, so we have no reason to communicate at all and I have no reason to give him my assistance.”
He watched Evelyn squeeze her hands so tightly together that her knuckles turned white. “I see.”
He started to get up. “So we’re done?”
She didn’t move. “Your mother wanted me to tell you that she would greatly appreciate your cooperation in this. She’s sorry she didn’t get a chance to talk to you herself, but she’s been very busy on the campaign trail with your father, and of course, you’re very difficult to get hold of now that you’re racing every week.”
Damn. “Cheap shot, Evelyn.” He could tell his father to stick it. But he loved his mother and would do anything for her. Well, almost anything. His mother was well aware of his relationship with his dad and she skated that ice carefully, usually not interfering. But for some reason she adored the bastard and supported his political career.
Evelyn gave him a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry. I realize this is . . . difficult for you. But your support would help your father’s campaign.”
“My father is a misogynistic prick who treats women like servants. Why in hell are you working for him?”
Her lips curved. He liked her smile.
“Obviously you haven’t spent much time around your father lately, have you?”
“Obviously the old man has you snowed, or you’re utterly gullible.”
She arched a brow. “I can assure you, Gray, I am never gullible.”
He was sure Evelyn thought she knew all there was to know about Mitchell Preston.
But Gray had grown up with the man and knew him better than anyone. And the one thing he’d witnessed time and again was how his father treated women. It was a wonder there were any women at all on the campaign given his father’s condescending, dickhead behavior toward them, especially if they were young and vapid. And this was a man they were considering for the VP nomination? His father was an overbearing, unemotional douchebag. Gray didn’t know how his mother had stood by his dad for thirty-three years without smothering him in his sleep or poisoning his coffee, but he’d never understood their marriage anyway.
“So, can we count on you for your cooperation?” Evelyn asked.
He couldn’t help but laugh at her audacity to think he’d still be agreeable. “Not a chance. Let me walk you out.”
She looked stunned. Obviously, she was used to people falling at the senator’s feet.
He wasn’t one of them.
She stood. “Seriously?”
“Seriously. Sorry, Evelyn, but I don’t kiss the senator’s ass. You’re going to have to find some other way to get votes for him.”
“You do realize this could be beneficial for you. Think of the exposure you’d get, the new fans you could bring on board.”
“I have plenty of fans already, but thanks.” He handed her bag to her, rested his hand on her back, and directed her toward the door.
She stopped and turned to him. “This could be a way for you and your father to repair your relationship.”
He could tell she was grasping at straws now. “My father knows my phone number.