“Wha . . . what?” He found out. He found out about River.

“Is it weird?” he asks, his eyes dipping to my mouth. “After what happened between you?”

“Oh. No. Not weird,” I stammer. He’s looking at my mouth still, and instead of thinking of a good way to answer this question, I’m thinking about how much I want him to kiss me. Why does my brain take to the hills every time Sam’s around? “I . . . think I need to quit anyway, so it won’t be a problem.”

He frowns. “Quit? Why?”

Why, indeed. I was so busy figuring out what I needed to do, I never bothered to come up with what I would say when I did it. What am I going to tell Mr. Bradshaw when I resign? Hey, I’ve been having an inappropriate online relationship with a man who is probably your son-in-law, so I’m guessing I shouldn’t be working here.

“It’s because of what happened between you two last summer, isn’t it?” Sam asks. “Did Della get to you?”

“No.” I shake my head. “This isn’t because of Della. I’ve just had second thoughts . . .” Well, hell, the history is already there. I might as well run with it. It’s not like I’m admitting to anything new. “I’ve had second thoughts about working so closely with Connor.”

“Don’t worry about him.”

“So, you’re okay with me working here?”

He smiles and steps back. “Why wouldn’t I be? Tell me you aren’t going to quit.”

There’s a click, and Mr. Bradshaw’s door opens and he steps into the hallway.

“Mr. Bradshaw,” I say. I straighten and try my best not to look like I was wishing his son would kiss me against this wall. “Good morning.”

“Call me Travis,” he says. He knows I won’t. He’s been telling me to call him Travis since I was fifteen years old and having sleepovers at his house. He grins, little wrinkles appearing around his eyes. Sam’s father is one of those men who aged so well every woman in town swoons over him—from my mom to my little sister, Abby. The whole George Clooney thing he’s got going on really serves him well as a politician.

A woman follows him out of the office—tall and slim, with long red hair. “Governor Guy,” I squeak.

The governor smiles at me, then nods to Sam. “Good morning. It’s a beautiful day in New Hope, isn’t it?”

“Christine,” Sam says, surprising me by using her first name. I guess their families have known each other for a long time, but I’d still expect him to use her title. “I’d like you to meet my father’s newest campaign worker, Elizabeth Thompson.”

I offer her my hand, more pleased than I want to admit that Sam introduced me as Elizabeth and not Lizzy. “It’s a pleasure, Governor. It’s an honor to tell you in person how much I appreciate the work you’ve done during your two terms. When I was in high school and you were running for your first term, you were my idol. I wanted to be Christine Guy when I grew up.”

The governor turns to Mr. Bradshaw and arches a brow. “I like her, Travis.” When she turns back to me, she’s smiling. “Does this mean you have plans to be Indiana’s second female governor?”

I duck my head. Politicians have things like their SAT scores go public, and how they were caught cheating on the ISTEP in grade school. Politicians who smoked pot when they were young claim they didn’t inhale, but I don’t think there’s a fix that easy for proof of stupid. “I’ve wised up since then, I guess. No one wants to put a perky blonde in a powerful political office.”

She frowns. “And what asshole put that idea in your head?”

The idea came from my political science professor during my first year at Sinclair, but I wave away her question.

“You know, they told me no one wanted to put a widowed ex-beauty queen in office, but here I am, finishing up my second term and making a bid for president of the United States.”

“You’re an inspiration,” I say softly, but I know the words do little to communicate how very much I mean them. “As for me, I’ve learned I’m happier behind the scenes. I don’t think I’d like living in the spotlight every day, but I do love helping someone as worthy as Candidate Bradshaw get there.”

“She’s quickly becoming an asset around here,” Mr. Bradshaw says. “She’s got a way with rhetoric, this one.”

Governor Guy nods. “Maybe I’ll let Travis here teach you the ropes, and then steal you away for my own campaign after the primaries.”

My breath leaves me, and I can’t find it in time to respond. Mr. Bradshaw and the governor start discussing the gala, and Sam winks at me. Mr. Bradshaw walks the governor to the door and leaves Sam and me alone in the hallway again.

“Well done,” he murmurs, stepping closer. “Governor Guy doesn’t impress easily, but she liked you.”

“Do you think she was serious about joining her campaign? I could actually do that?”

“If you don’t mind working for shit pay,” Sam says.

“I don’t mind. I mean, it would be worth it. Don’t you think?”

His face goes serious. “I think it’s amazing that I’ve known you all this time and I never knew you liked politics so much.”

“When I started at Sinclair, my first major was political science. I was encouraged to . . . rethink my decision.”