The Best-Kept Secret. Melinda Curtis
mother, no longer acknowledging Hudson’s presence. “And create a more appealing persona.”
Hud’s jaw tightened. The verdict was in. The party didn’t want him. In fact, Rosie DeWitt, who had a reputation for doing the impossible in politics, didn’t like him.
“If the party chooses to back Hudson, we’d be taking a huge risk since the Republican opponent will most likely attack Hudson’s Senate record relentlessly. That’s what I’d do in their shoes.” She gave Hud a look that dared him to contradict her. “So, Hudson, why don’t you tell us why you think the Democrats should take this risk?”
“My son has the highest ethical standards,” his mother bristled. Too late, Hudson realized how hard this must be on her. Perhaps he should have insisted she stay out of this meeting.
Walter started to speak, but Ms. DeWitt held up a hand. “To win, he’ll need both voter trust and liking. How do you expect to increase your chances?” She didn’t measure Hud with her stare but rather dared him to defend himself.
It had been years since anyone had challenged Hud, much less a miniature woman with too big of an ego. “I thought the party paid you to improve my numbers. Where do you categorize yourself on that poll you referenced earlier, Ms. DeWitt?”
“Excuse me?” Something flared in Ms. DeWitt’s eyes. She may have dressed in designer clothes and spent hours to get that hair of hers to fall artfully over her face, but she wasn’t an all-fluff, no-substance debutante. Her fact gathering proved that, and her nearly black eyes accented with a thick carpet of eyelashes and minimal cosmetics told him she was no nonsense.
No fun, either. Despite the unexpected physical spark between them. But Hud doubted if anyone dared contest Ms. DeWitt when the decision over their careers rested with her. For an instant, Hud considered retreating, but he was done sidestepping battles. “Did you vote for me to go to the slammer because of my handshaking style or did you think I should be acquitted of all charges?”
Hud half expected Ms. DeWitt to blush again, but she didn’t. Her gaze hardened the way only seasoned back-room dealmakers could when someone got in their way. Hud spared a glance to Walter. What bonus had the party offered Ms. DeWitt to work on his campaign? She certainly wasn’t one of his supporters.
“My personal opinion of you doesn’t matter. It’s my professional opinion you should be worried about. I don’t back candidates that don’t have what it takes to win.” In that moment, her eyes blazing and her dark hair spiraling in wild waves around her face, Hud wanted to have her.
The reaction gave him pause.
“Walter?” His mother turned to the chairman.
Walter cleared his throat and Hud silenced him with a gesture before he could enter the fray. “What makes you think I don’t have what it takes to win?”
SHE’D COME ON TOO STRONG. Hudson had gotten Rosie out of rhythm. From the get-go, his touch had thrown her off with his unexpected animal magnetism. She’d seen him speak before but never actually met him. Up close, he was tall—taller than Samuel—and so perfectly put together—not a strand of black hair out of place or a wrinkle in his suit—with a penetrating gaze that challenged as intensely as it beckoned.
Yet she knew from what Samuel had told her that Hudson didn’t care about others beyond how he could use them to garner more power. A man like that would never swallow his pride. She’d played to that, only she’d played a bit too hard and upset the McClouds.
Rosie stared at her hands, realizing she should have turned this meeting down and suffered the career setback. But in addition to fulfilling an obligation to Vivian McCloud and testing the waters that led to presidential campaigns, she’d wanted to see for herself if she was making the right decision by keeping Casey a secret from this side of his family tree. And by showing up and taking the offensive right away, she’d made things ten times worse.
Rosie stood, capturing Hudson’s gaze, ignoring the stubborn cleft to his chin. “I’m no different than any other voter. I want to believe that you’re a good person worthy of my trust. I’ll even forgive you a few mistakes as long as you own up to them and apologize. But you haven’t told me anything to keep those beliefs alive, not two years ago and certainly not today.”
Hudson’s mouth thinned into a hard line. He didn’t say anything. Rosie’s gaze drifted past him, but the spectacular view was hidden behind oppressive rain clouds.
“I’ll tell you why you can’t win. Voters want to back someone with a captivating personality. If you’re intriguing, you don’t let anyone see it.” Disregarding a twinge of discomfort that she was being brutally cruel to Vivian’s son in front of her, Rosie locked gazes with Hudson. “You’re not married. You don’t date. You don’t show up at ball games or the beach. Everything about you, from this high-rise office suite to the domineering expression on your face shouts, ‘stay away from me.’”
Chairs on either side of her creaked with disappointment, fueling the growing unease eating at Rosie’s composure. Walter was letting her hang on this one. Her chances of being blackballed by Vivian now outweighed her chances at the presidential campaign. Ever.
She forced herself to face Vivian, hoping Casey’s grandmother might understand, hoping she wouldn’t hold Rosie’s rejection of Hudson against her. But as a mother, Rosie wouldn’t forgive anyone who stood in the way of her son’s dreams. “I was hoping your son was someone honorable, someone I could trust to watch out for the interests of my son. I’d pour my heart into a campaign for someone like that, regardless of what his last name was.” She’d said too much, looked too weak.
And there was no sign of forgiveness in Vivian McCloud’s expression, only a sad resignation as if she was sorry to have to end Rosie’s career.
Rosie picked up her briefcase. “Excuse me. I have another appointment.”
“WELL, THAT’S THAT,” Hud’s mother announced brightly.
“You agree that my political career is over because I have no personality?” There was so much adrenaline pumping through his veins, Hud could barely sit still. He disagreed with everything Ms. DeWitt said, but the Democratic chairman hadn’t supported or refuted her judgment, so Hud hadn’t argued with her toward the end of her insulting diatribe.
“Rosie’s assessments are usually right on the money,” Walter said, showing his true colors.
“She’s a regular firecracker,” Stu said. “I’d pay to see that again. Do you want me to go get her?”
“No.” His mother waved a weary hand. “At your age, you’d never catch a determined woman like that. It’s for the best.”
“Yes. Rosie is long gone.” Walter looked apologetic. “She’s having lunch with Roger Bartholomew.”
“Is she dating him?” Stu asked before Hud could.
Roger Bartholomew lied and cheated his way through life and seduced women he had no feelings for. Among the social elite of the city, Roger made Samuel look like a saint. Although Ms. DeWitt dating Roger would explain why she and Hud didn’t get along, Hud suspected something far worse. “You’re considering Roger for mayor, aren’t you? This was all a show. You were never seriously considering me.”
“There’s been many a politician who overcame worse than you’ve experienced, and their last name wasn’t McCloud. Rosie told you what you needed to do. I’ve never known her to steer someone wrong.” Walter stood. “It was an interesting idea, Viv. Now, just so I don’t feel as if I wasted the trip from Los Angeles, would you like to go to lunch?”
The party didn’t think Hudson was a failure? Ms. DeWitt thought he had a chance?
“I’m always free for lunch with you, Walter,” his mother replied with an apologetic look in Hud’s direction. “Perhaps we can talk about Hud’s prospects over lobster salad at Aqua?”
Walter’s laughter