Spend My Life with You. Donna Hill
powerful men in the state of Louisiana. Senior Senator Branford Lawson not only carried clout but respect across both sides of the aisle. Some of his closest friends were those who for the average person were only seen on television and in newspapers, but to her they were Aunt Hillary or Uncle Bill. At any given time, the Lawson mansion would become the epicenter for political gatherings. She remembered one day as a young girl waking up and seeing former president Carter sitting in the kitchen sipping coffee with her father.
It had been her mother, Louisa, who’d overseen the Lawson household and clan like the queen of England oversaw her country. She was the consummate Southern hostess, the nurturing but watchful mother and loyal and devoted friend. Lee Ann became the woman she was because of her mother.
Lee Ann pushed back the memories as they threatened to overtake her. With her mother’s passing, Lee Ann stepped into her mother’s role. It was a big responsibility, but she did it with love.
“Perfect,” she announced of her handiwork. “Now stand up and let me take a good look.”
Her father dutifully did as he was asked.
“Looking good, Daddy.”
He leaned down and kissed her forehead. “That’s what all the ladies say,” he teased. Then he looked at her as if seeing her for the first time. He frowned. “Why aren’t you dressed?”
Her right brow elevated. “That’s what I was doing when I was summoned.”
He pretended to miss her point. “Well, don’t stand around,” he said, flinging his hand in her direction to shoo her out. “Get yourself together. You know how I hate being late.”
Lee Ann shook her head and grinned. “Yes, Daddy.” She returned to her room, took her dress from the walk-in cedar closet and was wiggling into it when her brother Rafe came knocking.
“Now look at you,” he hummed in that tone he reserved for when he wanted something.
Rafe leaned against the frame of her door, a glass of bourbon in one hand and his other hand tucked into the pocket of his tuxedo slacks, as smooth and sleek as a panther and just as deadly to the ladies. Raford James Lawson, the eldest of the Lawson clan, was a notorious playboy not only in the United States but abroad as well, although he swore, with a wink and a smile, that those rumors weren’t true. At thirty-six, he was unattached, wealthy, handsome, smart and came from a powerhouse family. He’d been profiled countless times in major magazines as one of the country’s most eligible bachelors, sexiest man and heir apparent to his father’s Senate seat. Rafe would agree to the first two, but the last stood as a bone of contention between father and son. He’d rather spend his days traveling, loving women and playing his sax. Politics weren’t in his blood. But his father wouldn’t hear of it.
Lee Ann pursed her cherry-tinted lips and ran her hazel eyes along the long lines of her big brother. “A little early for bourbon, don’t you think?”
“Never too early for bourbon, cher,” he teased, raising his glass to her in salute before taking a sip.
“At least make yourself useful. Come zip me.” She turned her back to him and waited for his real reason for descending upon her.
“Listen, sis…”
Here it comes, she thought. “Yes, sugah, what is it?” She turned around to face him, looked up into his bottomless black eyes, framed by silky lashes, and knew without question what women saw in her brother. And no matter how much warning they were given they kept coming.
“About tonight…”
“Yes?” She buttoned the top button of his shirt then began fashioning his bow tie.
“I know Daddy wants to show me around like some prized pony and have me glad handing all night, but there’s this new blues club down in the Quarter. If I can get there before midnight, I can get in on the last set.”
His smooth face and midnight eyes literally danced with excitement and matched the almost childlike urgency of his voice.
“Rafe,” she cautioned. “You know how Daddy feels about that.”
“I know, baby sis. That’s why I need your help…to distract him while I get out of there,” he cajoled. He leaned down to her ear. “Please.”
Lee Ann playfully pushed him away. “Don’t start your foolishness with me, Rafe Lawson. I’m not one of your starry-eyed ladies.”
He chuckled. “You wound me, cher.”
She put her hands on her hips and then wagged a warning finger at him. “I’ll do this for you…again. But I’m warning you, Raford. You get yourself in any trouble tonight and you’re on your own. Understood?”
“Yes, ma’am.” He leaned down and put a sloppy wet kiss on her cheek.
“Aggg. You know I hate when you do that! Ruining my makeup. Get on out of here.”
Raford laughed on his way to the door. “Love you, too,” he called out.
Lee Ann shook her head in affectionate amusement, walked over to her dressing table mirror to inspect the damage then touched up her makeup.
“Lee Ann.”
She turned. Her younger brother Justin had his head sticking in her door, the spitting image of their mother with his sandy-brown complexion, tight curly hair and to-die-for dimples. Although he was still growing into his looks, Justin was one handsome young man.
“Daddy said if you aren’t down in two minutes we’re leaving without you. I’m to make sure you get downstairs,” he said with a twinkle in his eyes. They both knew that Branford Lawson was more bark than bite, and the last person he’d get on the wrong side of was Lee Ann.
“Coming. Don’t you look handsome?” She crossed the room and stood in front of him. Lee Ann was the only one who could make Justin blush. He, like his brother, towered over their petite sisters, and Justin, at twenty-three, beat his brother out by an inch of Rafe’s six-foot-three-inch height. By habit, she straightened his tie and smoothed her hands over his broad shoulders. “Let me get my purse and I’m ready.”
The family filed into the waiting limo, and it sped off into the balmy Louisiana night.
By the time they arrived at the estate of Congressman Jeremiah Davis, the reception portion of the evening was getting underway. Waiters glided between the bejeweled guests with platters of mouthwatering appetizers and flutes of champagne. The thousand-dollar-per-plate affair was a fundraising event for the incumbent congressman. And with the downward spiral of the economy on the watch of the Democrats, he needed all the support he could get.
Jeremiah and Branford had been friends since they were in knee-highs and had followed each other throughout their school years, served as each other’s best man at their weddings and were godfathers to their chidren. There was a bond between them that was stronger than most brothers, and the Lawson clan adored their Uncle Jerry.
“It’s about time you all got yourselves here,” Jeremiah said, kissing cheeks and shaking hands.
Jeremiah could only be described as round. Everything about him was round, from the top of his head down to his bowlegs. He often reminded Lee Ann of one of those children’s toys that rocked back and forth and rolled around without ever falling over.
“Hi, Uncle Jerry,” Lee Ann said, becoming enveloped in his hearty embrace. He held her back at arm’s length and looked her over.
“Looking more like your beautiful mama with every passing day,” he said softly.
Lee Ann smiled. What could she say? She’d run out of words from the often heard comment. A part of her felt so complimented to be compared to her mother, then there was another part that felt overwhelmed by the comparison that she felt she could never live up to.
Her sisters and brothers had already dispersed into the crowd. They’d been trained well, since they were old enough to be introduced