Chapter 3

Sharks don’t sweat.

With infinite patience, they circle their prey in ever-tightening circles, evaluating, calculating, lulling their soon-to-be dinner into a false sense that they have nothing to worry about.

The Great White below is simply taking in the waters, enjoying the view.

Nothing to worry about down here.

Until something triggers the beast’s instincts, and it surges upward, lightning quick, and takes a massive bite out of its target before drifting away.

Kayla Krowne had been swimming in one shark tank or another for the entirety of her life.

First preschool, then boarding school, university, the White House, and now North Carolina’s General Assembly, dinner parties, and fundraisers. The sharks were circling.

But not around her.

In the past ten years, she’d made it clear that if anyone tried to take a chunk out of her, she’d remove an arm and two legs in retaliation.

Tonight, the sharks encircled North Carolina’s Governor Victoria Stokes. The woman gearing up to lead the Tar Heel State for another four years. If she won reelection.

It was Kayla’s job to make sure she did.

By feeding the sharks. Or fending them off. Whichever served the governor’s path to reelection best.

Kayla followed the attending donors with a strategic eye. Some she would allow to approach the governor. Others, she would blast out of the surrounding waters with her own version of an electrical shock.

She zeroed in on one of the local mayors, wife in tow, swimming between guests. To the untrained eye, his course seemed meandering, without purpose.

But Kayla recognized a predator honed in on a scent when she saw one. She flashed on what she knew about the mayor. How she could pair his wants to the governor’s. She almost always found something that would benefit both parties.

The politicians and businesspeople present saw in Governor Victoria Stokes a potential vote for their various causes or, if they were on the other side of the fence, a danger to promises they had made to constituents or shareholders. Anyone interested in influencing current policy would seek to curry Vicky’s favor, because, well, it never hurt to have a governor on speed dial.

But Vicky’s friends—her true friends—wanted nothing from her but love.

A distant memory surfaced about the mayor. An unpleasant rumor about domestic abuse that had just enough meat to it to cause Kayla concern. Politicians were always easy targets for the rumor mill. Some of it absurd, some of it disgustingly true.

The mayor whispered something to his wife. A pained look tore across her plain features before she drew her phone from her black clutch, broke away from her husband, and took up a position opposite the governor.

With a nonchalance she’d mastered years ago, Kayla sipped her champagne as she strode toward a quartet of sixty-something women dressed in their finest. All of them friends since their university years. All accomplished, wealthy, influential women. Women Kayla loved and respected like favored aunties.

Kayla wrapped a hand around the governor’s waist and squeezed her close. “Good evening, Aunt Vicky.”

Victoria’s face lit up and she pressed her cheek to Kayla’s. “Hello, sweet pea.”

One would never know by interacting with the governor that she came from Old Money. She presented as someone you’d walk by on the street and smile at without stopping. Brown hair, indistinguishable eye color, average height, accessible and warm to everyone who met her.

Only on further acquaintance would one detect the boarding school education, the family tree that went back ten generations, the houses in Montford and six other cities around the world, and the weight of the most powerful position in the state.

Kayla lowered her voice. “I’m here to save you from Mayor Ward and his impromptu photo op.”

Ever the professional, Vicky didn’t turn and search for the approaching mayor. “How bad?”

When Kayla worked on Vicky’s first gubernatorial election, they’d come up with a series of hand signals, code words, and rating systems to alert her to possible shitstorms.

“If rumors of how he treats his wife are correct, a ten plus.”

“I continue to be in awe of your network of spies.” Vicky’s hold around her waist tightened. “Thank you for having my back.”

“Always.” Out of her peripheral vision, Kayla watched a scowl appear on the mayor’s face before he veered off toward the open bar.

Kayla held back a smile.

The mayor’s wife dropped her phone back in her purse and stalked off in the opposite direction of her husband. Kayla made a mental note to talk to Liv about Mrs. Ward’s situation. Her friend had experience with assisting domestic abuse victims.

“Coast is clear.” She gave her honorary aunt a final squeeze before shifting closer to another member of the quartet. “Amazing turnout, Mama. As always.”

Jillian Krowne’s slender fingers folded over Kayla’s. “I’m so glad you could make it.”

One look at her mother, and Kayla grew concerned. The dark lavender gown complemented her coiffed blond hair, though the garment seemed to hang rather than mold. Her public smile dragged a bit and no amount of concealer could hide the dark shadows at the corners of her eyes.

“Have you been getting enough sleep?” she whispered, knowing Jillian always had trouble sleeping the week leading up to a big event like this.

“Oh, dear.” She lifted a hand to her cheek. “Do I look tired?”

“A little.” She smiled, then lied. “Only a daughter would notice.”

“Of course she made it,” a tall, black-haired woman interrupted, stepping forward to wrap Kayla in a warm hug. “Saving wild things is one of our girl’s many passions.”

Aunt Sybil had one of those personalities that eclipsed everyone in the room. She had used her sharp mind, droll humor, and fearless attitude to open many boardroom doors, and now she helmed the state’s top pharmaceutical company.

“Glad you could pull away for the evening,” Kayla said, returning the embrace.

“Anything for Jillie and Vicky.”

Tonight’s benefit would increase the governor’s exposure while raising enough funds to purchase a thousand-acre plot of land on the north side of Asheville. The developer who owned the property had established a sales office and cleared about twenty acres for an internal road system for the first phase of the development before going belly-up.

Local conservation groups had long believed the area housed several endangered and threatened species, but the developer’s survey hadn’t indicated a single species. Once the property went up for sale again, three independent surveys revealed an astonishing plethora of important plants and animals on the site.

Unfortunately, no one organization had the financial resources to buy such a sizable parcel. So they had approached the Krowne Foundation, which was known for its generosity toward local issues.

As much as Kayla believed in and supported conservation initiatives, she’d originally declined her mother’s invite. She had three more votes to secure for an upcoming bill. Time was ticking. To get the votes, she needed to be in Raleigh, the capitol, where all the dark magic happened.

“Harper threatened to put blue dye in my pool if I didn’t make an appearance,” Kayla said.

Vicky laughed. “Your sister can be quite persuasive.”

“Sounds like Harper got to y’all, too.” Kayla stepped forward to embrace the petite woman beside Sybil. “Maybe I should take a lesson out of her playbook.”

“Don’t you dare,” Aunt Elsie said, with a smile and warm hug.

As she always did for social events, the fashion designer had tamed her riot of red curls and concealed her freckles. Kayla thought of this version as her Nicole Kidman red carpet look. Sleek, polished, classic Hollywood.

Kayla much preferred her aunt’s natural and wild, let-your-freckles-fly look.

“For you, persuasion is an art form,” Elsie said. “You customize your approach to each person’s basic needs.”

“Harper, on the other hand,” Sybil said, “goes right for the fear factor.”

“I’m for whatever tactic brought us all together,” Kayla said. “It’s been too long.”

Everyone nodded and held their drinks up in a silent salute.

Kayla addressed the governor. “I hope Mama’s guests aren’t pestering you too much.”

Vicky smiled. “No more, no less than usual.”

“I’ve counted one snide remark,” Sybil said in an affronted voice, “two veiled threats, and four impassioned pitches for why she should support one cause or another.”

The governor’s smile widened. “As I said.”

“What has gotten into people, these days?” Jillian asked. “It’s as if civility is a foreign concept. A romantic notion only practiced in bygone days.”

“People feel more empowered,” Kayla said. “They have platforms where they can voice their concerns.”

“Sharing is one thing,” Sybil said. “Being an ass about it is quite another.”

“How are your efforts going with the Engel County School Board?” Elsie asked. “Are the votes there yet?”

Kayla sensed Jillian stiffen beside her. Focusing on her aunt, she conjured a secretive smile.

“How did you do it?” Sybil asked. “My source told me Rhodes was a solid yes.”

Kayla’s heart began a slow slide into the depths of her stomach.

A seasoned lobbyist, she maintained her pleasant expression, while attempting to discern the meaning behind her aunt’s question. Curiosity? Suspicion? Envy?

“Ms. Rhodes understood why it would be in her community’s best interest to table the Board’s response to SB49 until they had time to work through the new law’s complicated mandates.” Slapping a Parents’ Bill of Rights policy together for the sole purpose of complying with state law was not only irresponsible, in this case, it could create a dangerous environment for some students.

Jillian clasped Kayla’s hand in a tight grip and smiled at the aunties. “Y’all look so skeptical.” Her free arm snaked around Kayla’s shoulders and gave her a little shake. “This is the same woman who sweet-talked us into going roller-skating for her thirtieth birthday. She changed four hard noes to yeses.”

The aunties’ expressions cleared, as each no doubt recalled how much fun they’d had, despite their many reservations.

“Speaking of votes.” Kayla returned her attention to the governor. “How’d your meeting with Representative Gladwell and Senator Orston go? Are they going to back HB821?”

The Women Entrepreneur Empowerment Act would provide each approved candidate twenty-five thousand dollars for startup or improvement expenses and access to training and mentor centers across the state.

Vicky grimaced. “We’ve run into an issue.”

“Issue?” Kayla searched the other women’s faces. None of them looked surprised by the governor’s revelation.

“Some new data has come to my attention that my office is looking into.”

“What sort of data?”

An emotion Kayla couldn’t pinpoint skittered across the governor’s features, as her gaze swept the crowded room. “Nothing I wish to discuss here.”

“But you still plan to support the bill, right?” Kayla pressed.

“I will do what’s best for my constituents, as I have always done.” Vicky nodded to the group. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I should mingle.”

A heavy silence clung to the small group, after the governor strode away. Still holding Kayla’s hand, Jillian gave it a squeeze. “Don’t let your fear win. She’ll stay the course.”

Kayla hoped so. Much was riding on the passage of HB821. She motioned to one of the four interns stationed around the room to shadow the governor. A frequent attendee at functions such as this, Gemma Niles, a seasoned fourth-year, would keep Vicky out of any political sand traps.

“Or Assembly leadership will run roughshod over her and kill the bill,” Sybil mused.

Kayla didn’t agree. Vicky had a good working relationship with Gladwell and Orston. Against all odds, the trio had managed to find common ground on several important issues. A prime example of the good that could be done for the people, when politicians put their oath to the Constitution before loyalty to their party.

“Good evening,” a familiar masculine voice said on Kayla’s other side.

She turned to find Phin Blackwell, displaying his most charming smile. An answering grin tugged at the corners of her mouth. It was difficult to do anything else when around this impeccably dressed rogue.

She placed a free hand on his solid shoulder. “Phin, are you acquainted with my mother’s friends?”

“I haven’t had the pleasure.”

After making the introductions, she asked, “Is Maddy with you?”

He shook his head. “She couldn’t make it, but I did arrive with someone.”

“Oh? Who?”

“Cameron.”

Ash.

An image of his handsome black-haired brother filled her mind, and she experienced a familiar quickening in her chest. He’d finally accepted a Krowne invitation. Excitement set her heart to racing—until she ran into a red flag. Why now?

Phin filled the ladies in on his FBI brother. Kayla half-listened, as she scanned the expansive room for the unmistakable eldest Blackwell. The man, for reasons she didn’t understand, had taken an instant dislike of her. Which made him all the more intriguing.

She spotted him at the bar, wearing a sleek black suit. Drink in hand, he turned to face the crowd and his penetrating blue eyes snapped to hers like metal to a magnet.

As it had done the first moment she’d spotted him jogging through Pack Square Park with Phin, her pulse drummed in her ears, silencing the world around her.

When he continued staring, she lifted a brow, amused despite the visual tension.

Taking her silent inquiry as an invitation—or challenge, he pushed away from the bar and prowled her way.