Bad Girls Finish First by Shelia Dansby Harvey Read Free Book Online

business.” He continued to soothe Michael’s feelings. “Grace’s situation isn’t a big deal. All women go a little bit nuts when they get divorced. Grace’ll be all right, but for now she’s of no use,” David remarked as he freshened their drinks.
    â€œYeah. Grace probably won’t even vote for me herself. But I do need the vote of every other black woman in this state. They’re gems, every one of them.” He eyed David. “I don’t know why you can’t find a sister to settle down with. You’re good at chasing them, or more precisely, letting them chase you, but sometimes you act like you don’t need sisters.” Michael sighed. “You just haven’t met the right woman. You need someone strong, a woman like Raven.” He sipped his drink, and between it and having shifted the talk from his personal life to David’s, Michael felt quite comfortable.
    â€œI need black women,” David said defensively. A thought came to him, about the kind of mate he craved, but it made him very uncomfortable and he quickly dismissed it from his mind. Trying to smile at Michael, David continued, “It’s a good thing for your campaign that I’m not ready to commit to just one woman because that means they’re all free to love me.” David shot his friend a confident look. “Whatever you need from the women in this state—votes, money—I’ll get.”

4
    W hile David Capps worked on rebuilding Michael’s reputation with black women, Raven and Dudley tackled the money problem. The campaign had raised a few million, but not enough to counter Sweeney’s media blitz.
    â€œWe’ve been to the same wells too many times,” Dudley advised Michael. “They’re coming up dry.”
    â€œ Dry , my ass. All we’re getting is the little bit that spills out of Sweeney’s buckets,” Raven said as she flipped through television channels. It was commercial break time, and on station after station she encountered Jeff Sweeney—exchanging back slaps with longshoremen, hugging wrinkled little ladies, shaking hands with businesswomen; and of course there was the obligatory shot of Sweeney, surrounded by a miniature rainbow of humanity, jogging to nowhere.
    â€œBy my count, for every commercial we run, Sweeney airs six. That money came from somewhere,” Raven said.
    â€œLooks like we’ve hit every interest group,” Michael said. “Business owners; Latino leaders; everyone’s locked down.”
    â€œWhat about the gun advocates?” Dudley asked.
    â€œWhat about them?” Michael’s voice was tight and the pleasant expression he always wore was nowhere in sight.
    â€œTexans have to have their guns, and they don’t mind shelling out money to hold on to the privilege,” Dudley said, ignoring Michael’s testiness.
    â€œSince when does anyone need a semiautomatic weapon?” Michael abruptly rose from his seat to refresh his drink.
    â€œOnly since Congress passed the Second Amendment.” Dudley jumped up from his seat and grabbed Michael’s glass. “Relax, I’ll get your drink,” he said obligingly.
    â€œGun control is the only thing standing between us and the money we need to take the lead in the race,” Raven said. She was tired of going over the same ground with Michael. Though he was malleable in their personal lives, Raven had found out at the start of the gubernatorial campaign that her husband stood his ground when it came to his platform. Raven agreed with Michael: handguns and semiautomatic weapons served no purpose outside of law enforcement. Guns were crude, and there were so many more efficient, hard-to-detect weapons to choose from. Still, she wasn’t one to begrudge anyone his or her tool of choice. She’d support private citizens’ ownership of ballistic weapons if it would get her into the governor’s