Beauty Queen (7 page)

Matt leaned in a little closer, his mouth only inches from her face as he groped for his coat behind her back. I asked you first, Miss Priss.

So? What are you going to do? she asked, unflinching. Beat it out of me?

Matt chuckled, dipped his gaze to her full lips. Dont tempt me, darlin.

Okay, genius, she said, tapping a finger against her bottom lip. Lets put on our thinking caps, shall we? What do you think I am doing here?

He wasnt actually thinking too much at the moment as his gaze wandered her lips, her little nose, and her killer eyes ... until a thought suddenly occurred to him. A thought that was, basically, that perhaps this really wasnt about him. Ah ... youre not here to see Senator Masters ... are you?

Brilliant deduction, she purred.

Matt instantly reared back, coat and all. So the little cuckoo was a friend of Toms? Unbelievable! Youre kidding.

I am so not kidding, she said cheerfully, smiling with such pleasure that her cheeks creased with cute little laugh dimples. Now its your turn. What are you doing here? she insisted. Friend of Toms?

Fraternity brothers.

Ah! That certainly would explain a lot. She smiled fully at him then, almost blinding him with it.

Matt shook his head as he shoved into his coat, marveling at the unbelievable odds of this little coincidence. Too bad, really he was enjoying their verbal fencing. But, as he really shouldnt continue to bait Toms friend by calling her a stalker, he motioned vaguely to the office across the hall. Youd probably be more comfortable waiting in his office.

Oh, thats all right, she said, obviously pleased with herself. Im sure hell want to meet in a larger area. I had the impression that several people would be here.

Matt paused in the straightening of his tie to look at her. Are you sure you have the right day? Toms got a meeting this afternoon, but its with the campaign staff

Yes, thats why Im here, she said with a bright smile.

Now Matt was seriously confused. The campaign was fully staffed, and it was too early for neighborhood volunteers. He looked at her expensive suit, her purse and shoes, the black pearl ring on her hand. But ..

The door opened at that moment; they both turned toward the sound of several people entering the office, and squeezed, simultaneously, through the door and into the crowded hallway. Tom! she called, and Tom waved at her over someones head as he came hurrying forward.

Ah! I see you two have met! Tom exclaimed happily before grabbing her in a big bear hug that almost swallowed her whole.

Not really, she said politely, straining for air.

Oh? Well, this is Matt Parrish but you can call him Matt, Tom said, and let go of her, winking over her head at Matt. I bet you remembered Rebecca Reynolds right off, didnt you? he said to Matt.

Why should he

Ah . .. its Lear now, she quickly corrected him, blushing lightly.

Oh, thats right, I keep forgetting. Rebecca Lear. That was your name back in the glory days, right? Tom continued jovially, and to Matt he said, You know what Im talking about Miss Texas 1990?

Matts facade slipped with his shock; his jaw dropped, his tongue all but rolling onto the carpet, Tasmanian Devil style. He looked at Rebecca Lear again, his shock mixing with a growing sense of alarm. What was Tom doing?

But Tom had grabbed Rebeccas elbow and was already steering her toward the conference room before Matt could say anything. You were Miss Houston in 1989, werent you, Rebecca?

Oh, Tom! Thats such old news

Nonsense, dont be modest. Were not modest in this campaign! Were going to crow about our accomplishments! Matt here is one of the states best litigators, and dont think for a moment that he hides his light under a bushel. You wanna sue, Parrish is the man for the job, he said loudly as he practically shoved Rebecca into the conference room ahead of him, and boomed. Hey gang, meet Miss Texas 1990!

Three heads swiveled in their direction, all of them looking as stunned as Matt felt, gaping at Rebecca Lear as if she had just dropped in from another planet in another galaxy, far, far away. After a long moment, Gilbert, the guy with the Jesus sandals, asked laughingly, Hey, Miss Texas, wheres your crown?

Oh! In my purse, she said. I was going to wait until a little later to put it on.

A silent moment or two passed before anyone realized she was actually kidding.

At least the older woman with the helmet hairdo chuckled at Rebeccas little joke, but the rest of them, judging by their expressions (and particularly the states best freakin litigator), were clearly wondering what the hell Miss Texas 1990 was doing in their conference room.

Frankly, so was Rebecca. What in Gods name had she thought this would be? Maybe theyd play a little bridge and talk politely about politics? These people had credentials and a reason to be here! They werent insecure nobodies, and honestly, if Tom wasnt blocking her exit, shed turn and run out the door.

But she was stuck right where she stood, feeling ridiculous with her little tiara-in-the purse routine, until a small woman with short, magenta-streaked hair, army-surplus cargo pants, and a T-shirt that said Keep Austin Weird stood up and asked, Tom, did you want to order pizza?

Yes, please, Angie! Rebecca, Id like you to meet Gilbert, Pat, and Angie, my paid campaign staff, he said (Rebecca couldnt help noticing the one with the helmet-hair, Pat, rolled her eyes at that). And you met Matt, he

added. So we thought wed have a late-afternoon powwow. Angie, see what everyone wants on their pizza, will you? he asked, shrugging out of his coat. Just have a seat there, Rebecca, he said as he pointed to a chair at the conference table.

Unable to gracefully extract herself now, Rebecca sat like the good little girl that she was, but caught a glimpse of the Big Shot, who, having recovered from his shock that she wasnt really after him, but merely a former beauty queen playing at politics, was looking at her now like she was some sort of freak. Tom ... a word please? he said low, and grabbed Tom by the elbow and dragged him to the corner of the room for a little tete-a-tete.

Uh-huh, she could just imagine what that was about. It was obvious to her that the states best litigator was busy making sure Tom understood that not only was she a fraud and had no business being here, but had probably thrown in a couple of terms like stalker and lunatic for good measure. She stole a glimpse at him again. Wow. He was really giving Tom an earful. In spite of having spent one entire evening reading Face Value: The Art of Reading Friends and Strangers, whose author would undoubtedly insist that Matt had something more important to speak to Tom about than her, that most people went around thinking about themselves and not her, and that what looked like a heated discussion really had nothing to do with her, Rebecca was pretty sure that it did. Call it womans intuition (which Our Bodies, Our Minds, Our Hearts would say was a much more accurate perception), but Rebecca was pretty sure their conversation had everything to do with her.

Anchovies?

What? she asked, startled by the question suddenly put to her.

Do you want anchovies?

It was Gilbert, a guy with bed-head that looked 100 percent natural instead of affected, trying to gag her with anchovies. I, ah ... whatever the group wants, she said, pasting a smile on her face.

Gilbert plopped down next to her. They all want

anchovies. Angies already ordered it. So no shit, you were Miss Texas?

No shit. Yes, she said politely.

Cool, he said, nodding. Like, way cool.

Rebecca didnt know anymore if it was cool or not. She chalked that title up to something else Bud had made her do, as if the title of Miss Texas made her worthy to be his wife. What a stupid girl she had been then, her stupidity eclipsed only by her stupidity now. Stupid, stupid. . .

Hey, ready to roll up your sleeves and get to work? Tom called to everyone.

Apparently, Tom and Matt had finished their little talk, because Tom was sauntering back to the table. He winked at Rebecca, fell onto a plush leather chair sporting a giant seal of the State of Texas, and grinned at his little group. Ready to talk campaigns? he asked, to which they all nodded. Rebecca? You ready?

Oh suuure, she was ready! She did this all the time! Of course, she said as Matt seated himself directly across the table from her. She could feel his gaze burning a hole right through her as Tom turned his attention to the others, and thought he could definitely lighten up. She knew she didnt belong here, but it wasnt exactly the end of the world, and she returned his intense gaze with a small smile and the lifting of her chin.

Okay, people, Tom called. Lets get started. The last time we met, we decided to get a manageable list of campaign issues together that we can include in the literature. Everyones had a chance to cogitate. Lets start with the most pressing issues facing Texas today.

Matt opened his mouth to speak, but Toms large head and shoulders (his neck conspicuous in its absence) were suddenly looming in front of Rebecca. Rebecca? What do you think?

Crap! I, uh . .. I

The economy, Matt interjected, his focus on Tom now. Either we propose something to stimulate the economy or start gearing up for a debate on the merits of a state income tax.

What about health insurance? Gilbert said, looking unexpectedly smart. Texas has an unusually high per-centage of uninsured persons that are eating away at state coffers.

Sorry, but I think education is going to be the biggest battleground, Pat chimed in. Teachers in Texas have one of the lowest starting salaries of any state, and the school funding mechanism is a piece of shit.

All important issues, Tom said, nodding thoughtfully. And as you know, education and insurance have certainly been the basis for several of my bills this session, he added. Everyone nodded. Tom glanced at Rebecca from the corner of his eye. Anything you want to add, Rebecca?

I, ah, I dont really ...

Dont be shy! There are no stupid questions or com-ments in this room! Tom urged her.

Well, okay, she said, frantically racking her brain. Umm ... this is for the campaign?

Tom laughed. Well now, that question was a little on the stupid side.

Rebecca blinked.

Tom punched her lightly on the shoulder. Just kidding! Yes, this is for the campaign. So what do you think?

Okay, God, just go ahead and open up the floor now, please. What do I think? she echoed dumbly, and glanced at the others sitting around the table, looking at her so expectantly, as if she knew something, as if she had something to offer! Come on, its not rocket science! Just think of what you ve read in Texas Monthly her new, improved self chastised her. Be bold! Ahem. Well...

Across from her, Matt Parrish sighed impatiently. It wasnt a very loud sigh, but the sound of it, so goddamn familiar, kicked her square in the butt and made her sit up. Perhaps she had heard that sigh one too many times in her life from her father and her ex-husband for all the wrong reasons. Who knew? The only thing she knew for certain was that it made her blood boil. BOIL. She shifted her gaze to the litigator, and damn him, that was a smirk if ever shed seen one.

The environment, she said clearly and distinctly, sur-prising the holy hell out of herself. Protecting the beauty of Texas land, indigenous wildlife, and natural habitats.

No one uttered a word; Rebecca panicked, thought she had said something completely ridiculous. But then Tom grinned proudly. Hey, thats good! he exclaimed, and Rebecca instantly felt the panic begin to ebb, and a new sense of emboldened self started to creep in.

Mr. Hotshot Litigator looked unimpressed. Do you really think that issue is important around the state, outside of Austin? he asked.

She nodded resolutely in spite of having not even the slightest clue how important it was anywhere, much less in or out of Austin.

Everyone is concerned about the environment, Gilbert said.

Its a death knell outside Central Texas, Matt said, frowning. Its a regional issue, not a statewide one.

I dont think its just regional, Rebecca heard herself say, surprising herself yet again with her sudden, newfound, based-on-one-short-article knowledge of the environment. I think its something all Texans are concerned about, from the panhandle to the coast.

Really? So let me ask is everyone in your social circle living in fear of global warming and the destruction of the rain forests, too? Or is it just the endangered salamanders that keep yall awake at night?

What a smart-ass! Definitely the type that had to have all the ideas, and therefore, all the attention. Well, certainly the salamanders, she said in her best Im-just-a-stupid-beauty-queen voice. But also strip mining. You know about strip mining, dont you? Surely someone has sued over it, she said sweetly, putting aside that she knew nothing about strip mining, other than the article in Texas Monthly she read. Golden Cheek Warbler habitat destroyed by strip mining; other habitats threatened. Nevertheless, Rebecca was prepared to fake her way through it and flashed Mr. Big-Ass Lawyer a very definite, very unperfect Rebecca-like smirk.

Matt clearly didnt like that, but before he could speak, Pat said, Shes absolutely right, which instantly cemented Rebeccas undying friendship for life. Even more incredibly, Gilbert asked, Arent there a lot of federal dollars for preserving natural habitats? Isnt that something we ought to look into?

What does this campaign have to do with a bunch of birds or salamanders? Matt asked.

Its not about birds or salamanders, Matt, Pat said with a hint of snippiness in her voice. Strip mining is devastating to the environment, destroys natural habitats and threatens our groundwater. Its about our environment.

What about heat? Dont you think we need coal? Or uranium? What about all the jobs the strip mining industry provides to Texas? Look, he said, holding up a hand before Pat could argue, Dont get me wrong. Im not antienviron-ment. Im just saying its not a huge issue in Texas, and its a topic I think we should avoid altogether. Trust me, in a statewide campaign, no one is going to want to talk about a bunch of pits.