Kurt looked at the file in his hands, then back at Gray, his expression utterly dumbfounded. “We are just a little over a year away from an election, Gray. We have made huge progress in this state in spite of all the budget issues we’ve faced, and there’s so much more we need to do. We can’t let something like this lawsuit prevent the voters from seeing the real impact you’ve made here. Remember, voters have short memories.”

Gray’s sigh was heavy in the room. Mackenzie felt her shoulders sag. She knew he was going to work now. “I’ll give you two hours,” he told Kurt.

The veins in the front of Kurt’s head stopped bulging. “I’ll call Fletcher. He can come over and help us draft a statement.”

“You can call him from my office.” He motioned toward the stairs, but Kurt was already there. Gray walked over to Mackenzie, gave her another small kiss, and ran his hand through her soft black hair. “Sorry, babe. Save me some pizza.”

She puckered her lips. “Yep, I’m sorry too. And no one likes your pizza, remember?”

He laughed. He was sensitive to dairy, so his pizza never had cheese. Maddie declared it gross. Oliver found it intriguing. “Good thing, then, huh?”

“Two hours only, right? It is Sunday. Even the governor deserves some rest.”

She watched his brow furrow, and he opened his mouth to speak.

“I know. I know,” she interrupted. “We knew this part when we took the job.”

“I’ll be done as soon as I can.”

She watched him as he too headed downstairs toward the office he kept there. And sighed. Over the last three years, it seemed, she had seen more of him going than coming.


Copyright © 2011 by Denise Hildreth Jones. All rights reserved.
Visit Tyndale’s exciting Web site at www.tyndale.com.