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Like everyone, Mr. Tolliver's resources are finite."
    Sam smiled to herself, aware that Jack Tolliver's definition of "finite" might be a bit different from her own. Things were so damn finite at her place that just last week she'd had to choose between new rear tires and Greg's birthday dinner. She would make it up to him. She always had.
    "Of course," Sam replied.
    "Your family will have use of the Sunset Lane estate for the duration of your agreement, which will end fourteen days after the primary, so that would be May 23." Stuart flipped through some documents and continued. "We agree that you will not formally engage the services of a real estate agent in your search for your own home prior to May 31, correct?"
    Sam shrugged. "If that's absolutely necessary."
    "It is," Stuart said, his eyes serious but kind. "The press could easily find out you were house hunting, and the homes in your price range would not corroborate the story of you and Jack planning a permanent union."
    "But I can look for a house on my own if I do it discreetly, right?"
    "Only if you're very discreet." Stuart looked at his copy of the agreement again. "And, as we have agreed, Jack will continue to reside at his condo on the canal downtown but use the office at the estate when necessary. You do agree to that, Samantha?"
    "Well, sure! It's his house. Of course he can use it." She looked over at Jack. He sat quietly, studying her, and his expression had softened some. He'd dropped the politician's mask, and for just an instant Sam saw something very appealing in that face. For a brief moment, Jack Tolliver looked almost sweet.
    "The dog has to stay outside," he said.
    "How about an enclosed porch? You have one of those?"
    Jack nodded. "Fine. But you will be held accountable for any damages to the Sunset Lane house, and any repair costs will be taken directly from your monthly stipend."
    OK, so he wasn't sweet.
    Denny piped in. "Aside from normal wear and tear and maintenance, of course. My client can't be held responsible if one of the outdoor shutters were to come loose, for example."
    "Unless the kids were swinging from it at the time," Jack said.
    Sam cocked her head and blinked at him. OK—maybe he wasn't even decent. Maybe Lily had been right about him being a complete jerk. "My kids don't swing from shutters, Mr. Tolliver."
    "How about chandeliers?"
    Sam smiled sweetly. "How about you just take your chandeliers and shove them—" Denny stomped on Sam's toes under the table. "Into storage for the next six months?"
    Stuart inhaled sharply. Kara groaned. Denny placed her hand over Sam's. But it was Jack who had Sam's attention, those deep, dark, green eyes boring into hers, shining with surprise and maybe even amusement. Then his mouth hitched up. He smiled at her.
    "Excuse us." He stood. "Ms. Monroe and I are going to grab a quick bite of lunch."
    "We are?"
    "Yes." Jack arrived at Sam's side and touched her elbow. "I think we need to have a chat before anybody signs anything."
    "I agree completely." Sam grabbed her purse and followed Jack Tolliver out the conference room door. She looked over her shoulder at Denny. "If I'm not back in an hour, call the police."
     

    "A girl could really get used to this kind of five-star dining," Sam said, sucking soda through a plastic straw. "Do you bring all your fiancees here?"
    Jack took another bite of his sinfully good cheeseburger—as always, crispy on the outside and juicy on the inside—and felt a big glob of mustard drop on his chin. Before he could reach toward the dispenser at the table, Sam had snagged a napkin and wiped it off for him.
    "Why are you doing this, Samantha?"
    Sam looked around at the lunch crowd at the Workingman's Friend diner and shrugged. "I figured if you're running for Congress people shouldn't see you with mustard on your face."
    "Technically, I haven't declared yet, and I brought you here because, in case you haven't noticed, this place has the best burgers in town. Besides,