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knew he was proud of his victory in the Lorenzo case, although he’d modestly neglected to mention
     getting the bill passed that evening in his apartment two weeks ago. “Maybe Fitz asked Sam to speak without checking with
     Adam.” However, she thought that unlikely since the two brothers seemed to work very well together.
    Adam had dropped in at campaign headquarters a couple of times since that evening, and she’d noticed that he and Fitz seemed
     to mesh like two halves of a whole. Adam had stopped to talk with Liz casually, as he had with the other volunteers. She hadn’t
     avoided him, but she hadn’t lingered in his presence, either. Instead she’d concentrated on Richard Fairchild, going out with
     him the past two weekends, needing to keep herself busy; although she had no real reason to believe, based on a couple of
     hours together, that AdamMcKenzie had the slightest interest in her beyond that almost kiss.
    Richard was another story. At thirty-five he was fourteen years older than she, a successful attorney who’d started out in
     her father’s firm and gone on to build his own growing practice. He was a safe person to be with, one who didn’t set her to
     churning inside, who didn’t have her longing for things she could probably never have, as Adam McKenzie did.
    She’d discovered in her conversations with Adam that evening that he was fiercely goal-oriented, determined to get places
     quickly, to make a difference in the world. A woman who cared for an ambitious man like that would always live on the fringes
     as he bulldozed his way through life. Her own mother had watched her father achieve his aspirations from the sidelines much
     of the time. So even if Adam were to show further interest, Liz didn’t want to play that kind of role and let herself in for
     a great deal of loneliness and heartbreak.
    The crowd resumed their seats as Fitz waited for the murmuring to die down before he stepped up to the mike. “Ladies and gentlemen,
     it’s my privilege to introduce to you a man who really needs no introduction, the man we’ve gathered together tonight to honor,
     the man who will be California’s next attorney general… Adam McKenzie.”
    The applause began again, spirited and lengthy. Liz watched Adam walk to the podium, saw him acknowledge the cheering crowd,
     all boyish charm and California charisma. Some men looked awkward and ill at ease in a tuxedo; others looked like pudgy penguins.
     Adam had obviously been born to wear one. She’d never heard him speak in person, just on tape, and was looking forward to
     his talk.
    The dinner had been lavish, with several courses and a variety of wines. At five hundred dollars a plate, haute cuisine was
     expected. There had been three other speakers before Sam Lorenzo. It was getting late, yet as Liz glanced over atthe next table where her parents were seated with Richard and several other friends, she noticed that most everyone was leaning
     forward, apparently eager to hear Adam.
    After a few moments she decided Adam was what one of her professors used to call “a sneaky speaker.” He started off slowly,
     his voice not very loud, causing his audience to listen harder. He spoke of his boyhood, of his adolescence and growing up
     without a father, then introduced his mother, who stood to acknowledge the applause somewhat shyly. He talked of his college
     days when he and Fitz both were scholarship students.
    His voice deepened, grew in depth and resonance, as he discussed the kind of law he preferred to practice, where men like
     Sam could get a fair shake, where the little people could expect justice regardless of their income. Her eyes never leaving
     his face, Liz decided what Adam McKenzie had was more than charisma: it was vision. He envisioned a better, fairer world and
     was willing to get out there and fight for it. Not for himself, but for others.
    And that message came across to everyone in the room.
    To her surprise, Liz felt tears