A Billionaire's Redemption - By Cindy Dees Page 0,57

her presence being construed as an endorsement, she only agreed to meet him for coffee before the meal. But the fact that he didn’t once refer to her as a little lady went into the definite plus column for him.

She dressed in the power suit the folks at Nieman Marcus had fixed her up with, and two of the security men drove her down to Dallas in a big black SUV that she had no doubt was armored and bulletproof. It would have been cool if she didn’t actually need the protection.

Montoya’s fund-raiser was in a big hotel downtown. Her ride pulled up at the loading dock out back, and one of the guards whisked her into a thoroughly unglamorous service elevator for the ride to the twentieth floor where Montoya was apparently waiting for her.

She stepped into a generic hotel suite, where Montoya, and a lovely but quiet woman who turned out to be his wife, stood and introduced themselves. Willa was struck by how the wife immediately faded into the woodwork, serving coffee with a smile, murmuring a few pleasantries and then moving to the far end of the room.

A few weeks ago, that had been her. Willa shuddered in recollection at how it had felt to have people constantly looking right through her as if she wasn’t there. She made a point of looking the wife in the eye and speaking directly to her. The wife smiled with a gratitude that broke Willa’s heart. It was a hard life being the significant other of a politician.

She turned her attention to Montoya. He was quiet and thoughtful, clearly versed in the issues and highly intelligent. But the clincher for her was his response when she commented, “I have to say, my fear with you is that the special-interest groups will eat you alive when you get to Washington.”

Quiet steel entered Montoya’s voice and his eyes flashed with determination. “Unless we send people to Washington who are willing to say no to the same old way of doing business, who are willing to vote against lining their own pockets, who are willing not to be re-elected, how will we ever fix the problem?”

She laughed ruefully. “You’re singing to the choir, Tom. So you’re truly willing to be a one-term senator?”

“I fully expect to be a one-termer. I have a successful law practice back here in Texas, and frankly, it’s going to be a real inconvenience to my firm and my family for me to spend six years in Washington.”

“Well, Tom, you’ve got my endorsement. How would your campaign manager like me to announce it?”

Montoya stared at her in shock. “But I was running against your father.”

“And doing a fine job of it, too. He was scared stiff you were going to beat him.” She shrugged. “I happen to agree with you. And I happen to believe in acting according to my conscience, not my father’s.”

“I’m honored to get your nod.” He added wryly, “You’re a brave woman. I wouldn’t want to face the flak you’re going to take for abandoning your father’s party.”

Now that he mentioned it, she supposed there would be hell to pay for switching sides, particularly at the last minute like this. Good thing she had that team of bruisers to protect her.

The campaign manager was jubilant, and suggested that Willa stay for the fund-raiser and announce her endorsement there. It made sense. The press would be there in force, as would many prominent and wealthy supporters of Montoya’s.

Willa made a point of chatting with Mrs. Montoya, who turned out to be a highly educated intellectual in her own right, while they waited in the wings for the fund-raiser to begin, and the crowd to be whipped into a proper frenzy before Tom Montoya was introduced. Willa knew the drill well and ignored the roar of the crowd. Tom went out and the screams and chants grew deafening.

Then it was her turn to be introduced. The crowd went wild when she announced her endorsement. She sat down at the head table in the place of honor hastily arranged for her, and looked out across the room at a sea of dark, unrecognizable silhouettes. She couldn’t see a thing with all the spotlights pointed at her. The meal passed in a fog.

Circulating in the crowd afterward was surreal. She was used to being the one who listened respectfully and nodded politely while everyone else talked, but tonight, people wanted to hear what she had to say. The