No. I’m not reconsidering my offer. Please, …I said no. Stop calling me!”

“But this is the other Mrs. Littleton and my wife extends her sincere apology if she offended you in any—”

If? Hope ended the call, placed her cell phone on the dining table. “Damn! Only a fool could talk themselves out of a million dollars.” She sprang from her seat, picked up her and Stanley’s plates.

That had been the fifth person to call on Laura’s behalf, begging for the donation. But Hope didn’t care if Laura’s mama called. What part of “no” didn’t they understand? Maybe the next time Laura would engage her brain before opening her mouth. The woman was a loser. What Laura’s wife should do was tell Laura the truth. Laura wasn’t attractive, smart, or charming, and all her stupid grin did was to make other people frown.

“So now she needs my money? Her campaign funds must be extremely low…” Hope paused, placed the plates on the granite countertop.

“What are you talking about? Never mind,” Stanley said, cutting himself off. “This is ridiculous. You know that. I feel like a silent partner that’s been trapped into something illegal. I shouldn’t be subjected to this. Why your sudden interest in politics? And why are you considering giving her that much money? I hope you’re not smuggling drugs for your dad or something.” Then he mumbled, “Stranger things have happened.”

Hope sat on the stool, covered her eyes for a moment then stared at the floor, thinking out loud. “Hmm. How can I convince others not to contribute to Laura’s fund? That woman couldn’t run her household, let alone a state. She seriously believed that having her wife call would make me change my mind. Okay. Marinate on this for a moment, Hope. This may be the simplest and best way to handicap Laura’s campaign. Low funds equate to little or no advertising. If I can create negative propaganda about Laura, Laura will have to invest her financial resources to clean up her reputation. Whatever that is.”

Brooks’s announcement was two weeks away. Hope brushed her hair away from her face and smiled at her man.

Stanley pushed back his chair, snatched his keys off the kitchen’s island. “Thanks for lunch. I’m out. You don’t need me for the conversation going on in your head. In fact, you need to make up your mind. Either tell me what’s going on, or I’m moving on. I can’t afford to lose my job. If you’re transporting drugs, do it without me.”

“Stop trying to wedge yourself into something that doesn’t concern you. Nobody is transporting anything.”

She knew she was the catch in their relationship, not him. Replacing Stanley could happen with the press of a button. One phone call would do it if that were what Hope wanted. But she’d invested three years in training him to sex her the way she liked, and finding another man as trustworthy as Stanley would probably cost her more than the amount she was unwilling to give Laura. Starting over a new relationship would be a complete waste of time when she already had the right man in front of her.

Hope dated Stanley because he didn’t compete with her like the millionaire men she’d gone out with. He hadn’t asked to drive any of her luxury cars. Wasn’t trying to move into her house. Didn’t take advantage of her generosity, like the guy who’d asked her to open a joint bank account. That fool thought he’d hit the jackpot when he’d met her. Just as fast as he’d appeared, Hope had made his broke ass disappear.

Stanley was transparent. He didn’t have a hidden agenda for being her man. That was her dick and he wasn’t going anywhere except back to bed to fuck her again.

“Baby, you’re right. Sit down and let me explain,” she said, taking his keys.

He backed away. She stepped closer, lowered her eyes then glanced up at him. “Please.”

Sighing heavily, he conceded. “If I didn’t love your ass I would’ve been gone. Now if I’m staying you need to tell your man: what’s up with you?”

Now she was the one sighing. Hope began clearing the serving dishes from the table so Stanley couldn’t see the shiftiness in her eyes. Turning on the water she rinsed the dishes, then loaded the dishwasher. “If I tell you the truth, you have to swear you won’t tell anyone. Not even your mama. Especially not your mama.”

“Keep my mom out of this. You haven’t even met her.”

True. A woman with lots of money didn’t care much about meeting a man’s mother, unless she was sure he was the one she’d stand beside at the altar. “Promise me.”

“You’ve got it,” he said, picking up the dirty glasses. “We’ve never had secrets, baby, and I don’t want us to start being dishonest with each other. I tell you everything. I deserve the same respect.”

She’d had enough of his telling her what he’d already told her. She slowly kissed his lips, shutting him up, trying to conjure a believable lie. “My dad is considering running for governor.” Where in the hell did that come from? She would’ve been better off not saying anything. Damn, Hope.

“Of what?” he asked, placing the glasses on the top rack. “His tribe?”

“Tribes don’t have governors. California, silly.”

“He can’t do that…can he? Can Indians hold office and own casinos? Seems like a conflict to me.”

“Please tell me you’re not serious,” Hope said, drying her hands on his shirt.

“I guess I never thought about that, but I am serious. Besides, why would you give his potential opponent a million dollars?” he asked, looking in her eyes. “Why in the hell are you doing this? You’re still fucking lying to me. I’m out.”

Then why was he still standing in front of her?

“I don’t want you to leave here upset. Let’s relax outside in the Jacuzzi and have a drink.”

Stanley sighed. His lips and forehead tightened.

“Please,” she pleaded with sad eyes.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he said. A tiny smile emerged and his eyes widened a little.

The power women possessed to enhance their relationship was persuasive when they weren’t combative. “I need you. Come on.” Hope didn’t wait for a response. She kissed him softly, picked up her iPad, then turned away.

“I’ll get the vodka, cranberry, and ice and meet you outside,” he said, slapping her ass.

Reclining on the patio chaise, she thumbed through the catalog of new car models she’d left there to see what she’d purchase next. “Come see, babe. Look at this.”

Stanley made two drinks, held on to his, placed hers on the nearby table, then sat beside her. “Damn, that’s the shit! Are you going to get it?”

“Just decided. I’m buying four.”

“Four?”

Hope knew online car shopping would distract Stanley from revisiting what she didn’t want to discuss. One lie would only beget another and another and there was no way she was telling her man the truth, or letting him go.

“One each for Brooks, Morgan, Storm, and myself,” she said, showing him the three-hundred-sixty-degree tour of the Mercedes SLS AMG.

“Baby, I’m going to customize mine. The exterior is going to be bubblegum pink with twenty-inch, five-spoke alloy wheels. Bubblegum interior with aluminum trimmings. And of course they’ll all have to come fully loaded.”

“Damn! That’s going to be the sexiest girl car on the road.”

Instead of giving the money to Laura, with the press of a button, Hope spent a total of 1.2 million on gifts for her girls and herself. She’d have the cars delivered to Morgan’s house during their next meeting and surprise them.

Placing her computer on the table, Hope exchanged it for a drink and relocated to the Jacuzzi with Stanley.