Chapter 6
Matt braced his hands against the granite countertop and lowered his forehead until it touched the cold stone. He longed to bang his head against it until he knocked himself unconscious, but then he’d just have to clean up the mess when he woke up.
He’d been on a conference call with Ben and several donors for the past forty-five minutes, and if it went on a minute longer he would have to find some way to put himself out of his misery.
As the men yammered, Matt walked over to the wet bar and, in a show of supreme strength, managed to bypass the scotch.
As he poured himself a glass of mineral water, he let out a deep breath and tried to pull it together.
These donors were eager to contribute to his campaign, and for that alone they deserved his undivided attention.
Yet for most of the call his mind had been focused solely on Tamryn.
She had been in town for just over two weeks, but Matt could barely go two minutes without having her face pop up in his head.
For the past three nights he’d fallen asleep thinking about that kiss they’d shared after his campaign rally Friday night.
He couldn’t think of a single thing that was sweeter than her kiss, but it hadn’t been enough to sustain him. He wanted so much more.
For days Matt had tried to pinpoint just what it was about her that turned him on so damn much, and last night he was sure he’d finally figured it out.
Despite the fact that she had initially contacted him specifically because he was a Gauthier, when it came to the undeniable attraction simmering between them, she saw beyond the name.
He’d spent a lifetime dealing with women who were more interested in the clout they erroneously believed came with being a member of the Gauthier family than they were in getting to know him as a person. But Tamryn didn’t look at him that way. She saw just Matthew. It was different. Refreshing.
The fact that she was sexy as hell didn’t hurt, either.
“Matt? Matt!”
Ben’s irate voice knocked him out of his musings.
“What?” Matt answered.
“You want to provide some input?” Ben asked. “What did you think of Donnelly and his partner?”
Matt had no idea the other men had left the conversation. He’d pretty much tuned them all out shortly after the conference call began, but it had been long enough for him to come to his own conclusions about Alfred Donnelly.
“I think he would be waiting outside the door to my office in the state capitol building the morning I take the oath of office, ready to list his demands,” Matt answered, walking over to the fridge and retrieving the cold pizza from last night.
“I don’t want donors who are looking for favors, Ben.
I want people to support me because they believe in the work I want to do. ”
“You’re in Louisiana. Don’t think you can have a life in politics without doling out a few favors.”
Matt squelched a sigh. How had he ended up with Ben as his campaign manager? Their philosophies were totally different.
He checked the time on the microwave and decided that he’d had enough of this for today. “Look, Ben, can we finish this a bit later? I have an appointment I’m late for,” he lied.
“Yeah, yeah,” Ben drawled. “Oh, I forgot to tell you that I talked to your dad yesterday.”
Matt’s spine went ramrod straight. “Why are you talking to him?”
“Because he knows what it takes to run a successful campaign,” Ben answered.
Matt took the phone off speaker and put it up to his ear.
“You can put that out of your head right now,” he said.
He started to pace between the kitchen island and the refrigerator.
“There’s no way in hell I’ll allow any part of this campaign to be influenced by Leroy Gauthier.
He has zero say in how my senate run operates, you hear me, Ben? ”
“I don’t get this, Matt. What in the hell do you have against your father? He’s a respected appellate court judge who won his seat by one of the biggest landslides in the history of the courts. Most candidates would kill to have an ace like that in his back pocket.”
“I’m not most candidates. Leave him out of this.” His tone brooked no argument.
“Fine.” Ben’s exaggerated sigh was like that of a twelve-year-old who’d been told to clean up his room. “If you don’t want to take advice from someone who’s been in your shoes before and came out victorious, that’s your choice. I personally think it’s the wrong choice—”
“I don’t care what you think. Not when it comes to this.”
“You’re the candidate. But when you come to realize how much of a mistake this is, you take full ownership of it,” Ben said. “Tomorrow we’re doing prep for the first town hall meeting. Remember that.”
“It’s on my calendar,” Matt said. He ended the call, but continued to pace for several minutes in an attempt to calm down.
It wasn’t working.
“Dammit,” he whispered.
He’d told Ben from the very beginning that he didn’t want his father anywhere around this campaign.
Leroy Gauthier might have fooled the people in this town into thinking he was a stand-up, trustworthy pillar of the community, but Matthew knew him for the deceitful, cheating fraud that he was.
His father was a Gauthier through and through, an amoral bastard who didn’t care about anyone but himself.
He sure as hell had never cared about his wife or son.
Matt had made it his goal in life to never be like his father. The only thing the two of them had in common was practicing law, and Matt vowed to do everything he could to make sure that it remained the only thing they ever shared.
Once his father had moved out of the Gauthier mansion and Matt had moved in, he’d made it a point to erase as much of Leroy Gauthier from the home as he could.
His first order of business had been relieving Marion Samuels of her duties as the Gauthier family’s longtime housekeeper and cook.
For years Matt had suspected that Marion’s son, Leon, was his half-brother.
Suspected?
Matt huffed out a laugh, shaking his head as he returned the pizza, uneaten, to the refrigerator. Leon looked more like his father than he did.
He wondered how many other bastard children Leroy had sired.
It took a moment for him to unclench his jaw. Matt ran a frustrated hand down his face, cursing Ben for bringing up his father and putting him in this mood. He wasn’t up for dealing with this right now. He needed a distraction.
And he knew exactly where to find one.
This desire to see Tamryn bordered on ridiculous, but he couldn’t help it. He had to see her.
Matt made his way to Belle Maison. Maybe he could surprise her with a picnic lunch and a drive out to the Chalmette Battlefield. He would be bored to tears, but as a history professor she would eat up the chance to visit the War of 1812 site.
Matt’s hastily concocted plan was annihilated when Phylicia met him on the porch at Belle Maison and told him that Tamryn was in New Orleans today, researching in the library at Xavier University.
Matt shot a quick text message to Zeke Marsh, who hadn’t batted an eye when Matt asked him to keep him abreast of the research Tamryn was conducting this summer.
Today, however, Matt didn’t care about whatever it was she was seeking within the tomes of the university library. His only concern was making sure she was still there before he made the hour-long drive into New Orleans.
Did he really intend to drive all the way out there just on the off chance that he could convince her to have lunch with him?
“Hell yes,” Matt said as he slipped his sunglasses on and backed out of the driveway at Belle Maison.
He knew he had it bad. And he didn’t give a damn.
Tamryn ran a hand along the back of her neck, rubbing the kinks and knots that had taken up residence there.
She’d been hunched over this table for the past three hours, unable to tear herself away long enough to even use the restroom.
It had been this way for over a week. She was completely enthralled by every single article she’d come across.
She’d read about the history of the slave uprisings along the Mississippi River while researching her dissertation, but she’d never had the chance to delve as deeply as she’d always wanted to.
She could spend months in this library and still not satisfy the curiosity that grew with every new text she pulled from the shelves.
“But if you don’t get up from here soon, your bladder will burst,” she mused.
She managed to leave her work long enough to use the restroom and grab a quick drink of water. When she returned to the archives room, Ezekiel Marsh was standing at the table she’d occupied since eight o’clock this morning.
“Hello there,” he said as she made her way back to the table. “How’s it going so far?”
“I could not be more jealous of you,” Tamryn said.
He laughed. “I am very lucky to have this at my disposal.”
“Beyond lucky. I was just thinking that I could spend a month in this room and not make a dent in this. The archives here at Xavier are absolutely remarkable. Thank you so much for allowing me such unrestricted access.”
“My generosity is not entirely altruistic,” he said. “I’m curious about your findings. Once you explained your research, I knew this was something I needed to hear more about. Are you making any progress?”
“I’m sure I would make a lot more if I wasn’t sidetracked by every fascinating article I run across. And knowing that most of these places are just a short drive away is too tempting.”
“You should definitely schedule a few day trips while you’re here. There’s living history up and down the river.”
“I plan to take advantage of it whenever I can over these next few weeks. I cannot express enough just how much I appreciate this. I’ll have to thank Matt for calling in a favor on my behalf.”
“You can thank me with lunch.”
Tamryn turned and spotted Matt coming through the door.