Jury Town by Stephen Frey Page A

them all your life, longer ones than this, too. Don’t give me that.”
    “I’m gonna need a lot of luck and a lot of help.”
    “What can I do?” Trent asked immediately. “Sign me up. I’ll do whatever’s necessary to get you to Washington.”
    She gazed up at him. “Seriously?”
    “Absolutely.”
    “I . . . I . . .” She glanced out to sea again. The fog was closing in around them. The waves had already broken and were nothing but foam when they churned into view now.
    “What is it, Angie? What’s wrong?”
    “I don’t want you to feel like I’m imposing.”
    “I’d say if you were. No one’s ever accused me of not speaking my mind.”
    “Still.”
    “Is it money? Is that what you need?” A curious look came to his expression. “It can’t be. I see your Gaynor Construction signs all over the sites in the area.” His shoulders slumped. “Oh, no, is your company having problems? Is that CEO you hired to run the place for you screwing up? Is Jack Hoffman taking you down?”
    “Trent, I—”
    “You had to hire an outsider when you went into politics, right? So there wouldn’t be any conflict of interest, no chance for any appearance of impropriety when your company did work in this area?”
    “Yeah, but—”
    “So Jack Hoffman messed the company up, and now you need a loan to bail you out. That’s what this is all—”
    “This is not about money,” she interrupted, laughing this time. His loyalty bowled her over. “My company’s fine. Jack Hoffman is doing a great job as my CEO. Earnings are higher than ever.”
    Trent spread his arms. “Then what is it? What do you need?”
    Angela glanced down at the wet sand as the end of another wave approached. “I need you. I need your reputation. I need your time. Yes, I’m a big fish down here in Virginia Beach and Norfolk. Everybody knows me. But it’s a little pond. Nobody in Richmond or northern Virginia, or any other part of the state, for that matter, has any clue who I am. And that’s going to be a big problem when it comes to beating Chuck Lehman. All the money in the world might not be enough to raise my awareness factor among Virginia voters fast enough when I’m going up against the Lehman machine.”
    She glanced up at him as warm water washed over their toes. “But you are a national celebrity. Everyone in the country who’s even remotely a basketball fan knows who Trent Tucker is. Heck, a lot of people who aren’t basketball fans know who you are. You could be a huge help to me in Richmond and Washington.”
    “You got it,” Trent agreed without hesitation. “Anything you want from me you got. You want me to do appearances, promotions, or anything else, you name it. I’m yours.”
    She gazed up at him as the mist closed in around them. “I was nervous about asking you.”
    “Why?”
    “It could take a lot of your time.”
    Trent ran his fingers down her soft cheek.
    And her heart jumped several beats. She had to fight these urges hard because she was so tempted. He’d make all the right promises, standing here on the beach in the heat of this moment. Men like Trent were experts at making promises—but not at keeping them, especially to women. Her father was proof of that, wherever he was.
    “Life’s a wild ride, isn’t it, Angie?”
    She nodded as he pressed his warm palm to her cheek, and his heat surged into her body. “Yeah,” she whispered, shutting her eyes as she allowed her face to rest against his big hand.
    “When we were kids in the ghetto, nothing was more important than money.”
    “Nothing.”
    “We were so poor. My mother served my brothers and me Spam and grits four nights a week. The other three she didn’t serve us anything. She told us to mooch off friends.”
    “So that’s why you were over every Tuesday night.” Angela laughed softly. “How did you ever grow to six ten?”
    “I don’t know,” he admitted, pulling her against him. “I really don’t.”
    She slipped her arms