LITMIR.BIZ

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a half million dollars. It had taken him years to pay that off.

      Butler wouldn’t hesitate to hit below the belt again. He had plenty of ammo—Tanner’s past. Butler could have a field day with that if he were able to get Tanner’s juvenile records. They were supposed to be sealed, but nowadays, nothing was sacred.

      Tanner wasn’t proud of his past, but it was obviously something he couldn’t change. He was stronger for it. He had learned that life was filled with hard knocks and that if you didn’t knock back, you were screwed.

      He grew up as an only child without anything—love or amenities. His dad had been killed in Vietnam when Tanner was in elementary school. His mother, weak and whiny, had turned to the bottle for comfort, leaving him to fend for himself.

      As a result, he’d been in and out of trouble with the law, often taken away from his mother and put in the foster care system. Then she’d shape up for a while and he’d be back with her. But her good behavior never lasted. She’d get back on the bottle, and he’d be whisked away again.

      The year he’d graduated from high school, she died of liver failure. He’d been on his own, had to scrape for himself. Because he was intelligent and had done well academically, he’d received a partial scholarship to college where he had excelled. After graduating at the top of his class, he’d had the good fortune and sense to marry Norma. Under her influence, he’d fine-tuned some of his rough edges. But it had been his combination of book and street smarts that had gotten him where he was today.

      Along with his drive, ambition, and love of competition, he had accomplished far more than he’d ever dreamed. And now, he was riding even higher, thriving on his newfound love—politics. If elected, he had a chance to make a real difference in people’s lives. That appealed to him.

      Still, he wouldn’t sell his soul for a seat in the senate.

      On the other hand, he would sell his soul for a chance to make amends to Kasey Ellis. Just thinking of her made his heart race. He had seen her twice now, and both times, he’d felt a jolt—a sock deep in the gut that was palatable.

      It was just that she was so damn sexy and didn’t seem to know it. Her sassy smile, the subtle whisper of passion in the sway of her hips, the way her lipstick looked like she’d been thoroughly kissed, had awakened his carnal instincts.

      His reaction was crazy and could go nowhere. However, he couldn’t control how he felt. What he could do was keep his feelings under wraps. No one, least of all Kasey, must ever know his true motivation, or she’d slam the door in his face quicker than he could take his next breath.

      Contrary to what he’d told her, he had known her plight, known that she’d been in financial trouble since Mark’s death, that she was struggling to keep her son in school, and that she’d returned to Rushmore and gone to work for Shirley Parker.

      His deep sense of guilt, shame and betrayal had been the driving force behind his underhandedness. He saw a chance to make up finally for some of the pain he’d brought her.

      What he hadn’t known was that Kasey had witnessed Shirley’s death. On learning that, he’d been more determined than ever to help her. Miraculously, she had accepted his offer.

      Now, maybe he could start the healing process within himself. Or maybe that wasn’t possible. Maybe he would never be able to atone for his sins that night years ago. When he thought about what happened, which was far too often, he got down on himself.

      Only a lowlife would take a friend’s girl to a party then take her virginity.

      Tanner let go of a harsh breath, then rubbed the back of his tense neck, feeling the muscles bunch under his hand. When he raised his head, Paul Darby, the right-hand man in his company, was standing in the doorway.

      Paul was big and robust with a wide mouth and cauliflower ears that were more pronounced due to the horn-rimmed glasses that hooked over them. He might be homely, but when it came to overseeing the construction sites, he was a gem. Tanner didn’t know what he would do without him, especially now that he’d entered the political arena.

      “If this is a bad time, I’ll come back.” Paul’s tone was hesitant.

      Tanner motioned him into his office. “Actually, your timing’s perfect. My mind should’ve been on business and it wasn’t.”

      Paul grinned. “Bet you were thinking about the campaign.”

      Tanner offered no explanation. Instead, he said, “Something’s going on, or you wouldn’t be here.”

      “Right, boss, and I sure hate to bother you with—”

      Tanner waved his hand, cutting him off. “It’s your job to bother me when there’s so much at stake.”

      The project that was underway was one of his biggest ever. Amidst fierce competition, Hart Development Corporation had landed its most lucrative and challenging job to date—building a high-rise office complex and parking garage on the west side of Rushmore.

      Construction had started several months back, and for the most part, things had gone smoothly, which had been in his favor since his mind and loyalty were now divided. However, he’d been expecting a setback, knew it was inevitable.

      “It’s the material,” Paul said. “Or the lack of it, rather.”

      “Have you contacted the manufacturer?”

      “Several times.”

      “What’s the excuse?”

      

      “Don’t really know.” Paul scratched his head. “Can’t get a straight answer.”

      “Damn.”

      “Like I said, I hated to have to bother you with this, but without material, we’re at a standstill, which is something I don’t have to tell you.”

      “I’ll see what I can do. But our best bet is to locate another source.”

      For the next hour, they worked out the particulars of solving this latest debacle, then Paul said his goodbyes and left.

      Alone again, Tanner frowned. If he won the senate seat, he’d have to promote someone from the ranks to manage the company, although that didn’t sit too well with him. Before he turned politician, he wasn’t beneath putting on a hard hat and working alongside his men.

      He enjoyed the physical side of construction as much as the mental. Hard labor honed his body as well as his mind. For the time being, however, the senate race demanded he don a tie instead of a hard hat.

      His mind having returned to politics, he shifted his gaze to the phone. Should he call Kasey? He was curious if she had anything to show him. Actually, he didn’t give a damn whether she did or not.

      He just needed an excuse to see her.

      Kasey made her way into the boardroom long after the staff had gathered.

      Before she had called this meeting, she had assured herself she was up to the task. Her son’s timely phone call last evening had elevated her spirits as nothing else could have done. He hadn’t wanted anything in particular; he’d just wanted to check on her and chat—all the more reason why the call was special.

      However, now that all eyes were focused on her, her courage floundered.

      This morning was the employees’ first day back since Shirley’s murder. Right off, Kasey had picked up on the tone and mood in the office. It wasn’t good; everyone seemed to be walking on eggshells.

      Now, as she quickly perused her audience, she noted the staff was all present and accounted for, except Monica Lee, the girl Friday who remained at her desk to man the phones.

      The department heads, three in all, were sitting together at the table closest to her. Red Tullos, the art director, fit his name to a tee. He was redheaded, red-faced and red-hot tempered. Kasey suspected it was his volatile nature that fueled his creativity and made

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