My headache has started to wane after an incredibly long morning, but I can feel it lingering right behind my left eye. I'm in a bad mood, especially after reading a new article ripping me to shreds in the press.

I paste on a smile and wave to a little group of women eyeballing me from the corner of the hotel that houses Picante, a restaurant where Nolan and I are meeting Monroe.

Nolan keeps his face forward and pretends not to notice the waves and gestures from my little fan club. It makes the women happier, we've learned, to think they had a “moment” with me. Ridiculous but true.

I usually give them a quick once-over, just check them out a little bit, see what’s being offered. Normally, if I’m feeling particularly interested, I’d mosey over, make small talk, and grab a phone number for later.

Or two.

Hell, sometimes three.

Today I have zero interest.

"Now, when we get in here, I want you to remember that you're here to appease him," Nolan says under his breath.

"We'll see," I mutter.

The elevator door opens and we walk inside. Nolan presses the button to close the doors before anyone can get on with us. We ride in silence for the few seconds until the door chimes and opens into Picante. It's a small restaurant that's used by the wealthy. You pay a membership and they provide you with excellent food and privacy to boot.

The hostess recognizes me immediately and I can see her replaying our rendezvous together a year or so ago. I can’t help but remember her bent over the hood of my car either.

Her lips fall apart and her eyes glaze over, and I try to give her the least encouraging smile I can.

“Mayor Landry,” she breathes, batting her lashes. “How nice to see you again.”

Nolan bristles at my side as I clear my throat. “I believe we have a table waiting on us.”

She nods, blushing, and leads us through the room. “I was hoping it was you and not one of your brothers when I saw the reservations,” she says sweetly as Nolan sticks an elbow in my side.

"Don't forget," he whispers. "You have the Garalent Gala coming up."

The thought makes my temple start to throb again. I don't want to think about that. At all.

“Here you go.” She steps to the side but manages to brush up against me. If Alison weren’t in the picture and this conversation wasn’t going to ruin my mood, I’d probably make plans to see her again.

I glance up at her and she winks.

Today’s not her day.

Nolan pastes on a smile as Monroe stands to greet us. We shake hands and take our seats across from him.

"Nice to see you," he smiles. It's a predatory gesture. He smells blood and insisted I come along today for the kill. He's ready to stick me in his pocket and then use me for four years after I'm elected. More than ever, I don’t want to make any concessions to him.

"Good to see you," I lie, placing my napkin on my lap.

The waitress comes by and takes our order, nearly rubbing her ass against my arm. I lean away and pick something random off the menu, a dish that includes grapes.

"So, Barrett, let's talk shop, shall we?" Monroe fights the urge to smile.

"Yes. Nolan tells me you're close to making your decision on your endorsement," I say, glancing at Nolan. "How are you feeling right now, Monroe?"

He chuckles. "Well, I'm not sure how I'm feeling. As you know, I don't necessarily follow the party ticket."

"That's why we're here," Nolan says. "What will it take for you to endorse your own party’s candidate? There is a lot at stake coming up."

"That's very true, which is why I've held off on endorsing anyone."

His game-playing is getting under my skin. I grit my teeth, trying to keep from blurting out what I want to say. "You've held off so long that it nearly doesn't matter." When I say this, Nolan nudges me with his knee beneath the table. I don't look at him. I'm forcing the issue, but what I've said is true.

Monroe raises his eyebrows and thinks before he speaks. "I have faith that whomever I support will matter to my precinct, Mr. Landry. And I think you also believe that. That's why you're here."

"Look," I say, having enough of his self-aggrandizing attitude. "Why don't we cut to the chase and you tell me what you're looking for? I have a full schedule today and I bet you do too."

He guffaws, his voice catching the attention of some businessmen at a round table in the corner.

"One thing I like about you, kid, is your confidence. That's a point in your favor."

I can't help but laugh at his intended disrespect. "I'll take all the points I can get."

He studies me for a minute. He certainly didn't expect me to come in firing. Hell, I didn't either.

"I tell ya what, Barrett," he sighs, leaning forward. "There are two things in this race that are important to me. One is the Land Bill. The other is how well the candidate I endorse will perform in office. My word matters to me. You know that," he pauses. He's the fox in the henhouse. I watch his smirk grow as he keeps talking. "And I'll tell you the truth—I'm worried about your reputation. You're a rake, to put it bluntly. A bachelor that appears as interested in women as he is the work that must be done."

"I beg your pardon," I say, narrowing my eyes. "My approval rating as Mayor of Savannah is the highest it's been for any person in that post in modern history.”

"Look,” Nolan interjects, “we aren't here to argue what Landry does in his own time. We are here to see what it will take for you to back him. So, what's it going to be? Just cut the shit and give it to us straight."

"I need a commitment that you will vote against the Land Bill," he says, looking me straight in the eye.

I don't waver. I feel sick to my stomach, knowing that it will kill the local economy while putting money in his pocket if it’s nixed.

"That Bill isn’t even guaranteed to be on the table in the next five years.”

"But if it is," he says, cocking his head, "I want full assurance that you won’t support it. Come on, Barrett,” he sighs. “Your own family has land out there. You won’t seriously consider losing that kind of money, will you? Be smart about this. I know you’re probably thinking you’ll go in there and do some good for the people and you can. You can. But there’s no sense in shooting yourself in the foot over it.”

I glance at Nolan and he’s watching me carefully. I rack my brain for an answer that will appease him.

"Hobbs has given me his word that he won’t support it if it comes to that."

I clench my jaw. "I assure you I will talk with you about it then before any decision is made."

He blows out a breath as the waitress places our plates in front of us and leaves.

"That's fair," he says without sounding confident.

"Absolutely it is," I say.

He shakes his head and pulls his plate in front of him. "Very well. I can also assume that you will be taking Daphne to Garalent, correct?"

"He is," Nolan looks at me sternly. "We've already discussed that, remember?"

I cringe, my head feeling like it's going to explode. We fucking discussed it, all right, but that discussion was very much before Alison.

Looking at Monroe’s face, his eyes are lit. Me taking his daughter is a huge boon to him, and if I back out now, it’s the nail in my coffin.

He slices through his chicken breast. "She'll be pleased to know that."

"Gentlemen, if you don't mind," I say, scooting my chair back, "I'm going to have to take off. I have an appointment in a few minutes that I was going to call off, but since we seem to be finished here, I think I'll try to make it."

Monroe laughs, knowing I'm making it up. "No problem. Good to do business with you, Barrett."

"You too," I bite out. I don't bother looking at Nolan. I just slip through the restaurant, avoiding the hostess, and out the door.