The Governor's Wife Read Free Page A

circles as "the Professor."
    —"there'll be a Latino sitting in your chair, that's a fact. But not on my watch."
    For the last decade, ever since Karl Rove had decamped to D.C. with George W., the Professor's opinion on all things political in the State of Texas had been considered gospel. So Bode Bonner breathed a sigh of relief: no need to fret about the Latino vote, at least not in this election. That settled in his mind, his thoughts quickly returned to his midlife crisis.
    "My life peaked when I was twenty-two and playing strong safety for the Longhorns. Been downhill ever since."
    He fingered the massive UT college football ring that rode his big right hand like a hood ornament; the memories of football flooded his mind. Sitting in the Governor's Office and recalling those glorious moments now, Bode couldn't believe how life had let him down. He leaned back and kicked his size 14-EE handmade elk skin cowboy boots up onto the desk. He had big feet because he stood six feet four inches tall and carried two hundred and ten pounds, his playing weight. He had blue eyes and good hair. He worked out at the YMCA and ran five miles around the lake every day. He had a working prostate and a valid Viagra prescription. Bode Bonner possessed the strength and stamina and sexual drive to keep up with men half his age. And women. He was still young enough and strong enough and willing enough to live life. He just needed something to do with his life.
    "What am I gonna do the next four years?"
    "Same thing you did the last four years … Nothing."
    "I don't want to do nothing the rest of my life, Jim Bob."
    "Bode, you're the governor of the second most populous state in America with twenty-five million people, a state that encompasses two hundred and sixty-eight thousand square miles, a state with a one-point-two-trillion-dollar gross domestic product that would rank it number fourteen in the world if Texas was still a republic, a state that's—"
    "Bare-ass broke! I'm the governor of a goddamn bankrupt state, and I don't have any public money to spend or power to wield. I can't do a damn thing." He pointed out the window at the Capitol. "Hell, I gotta go over there and beg those bastards to pass a bill before I can take a goddamn piss."
    The Professor nodded. "Sam Houston thought power should reside in the legislature, so the state constitution provides for a weak executive."
    "Doesn't provide for much excitement." Bode shook his head. "I love the guy, but old Sam screwed the pooch on that one. I mean, what the hell is the governor supposed to do for four years? I can't play golf every day—some days it rains."
    That amused the Professor. He was fixing his coffee in a china cup—cream and five sugar cubes. Which explained his pudgy physique and why he had been the star of the chess club in high school instead of an athlete.
    "What do you hear, Jim Bob?"
    The Professor cocked his head. "Nothing."
    "Exactly. This ain't the Governor's Office—it's the goddamn morgue. You know why?"
    "I bet you're gonna tell me."
    Bode again pointed out the window at the Capitol.
    "Because all the action's over there. You want to play the game of politics in Texas, you don't come to the Governor's Office, you go to the Capitol. Come January, that place is gonna sound like a cattle auction, lobbyists bidding for legislators' votes. Hell, they're already lining up outside the speaker's office, because he's got the power, not me. Because they don't need the governor. Because I'm irrelevant."
    "Irrelevant?"
    "Like tits on a boar hog."
    Bode Bonner pulled his boots off the desk and stood then smoothed the coat to his dark suit. Armani suits and cowboy boots. And French cuffs. You could do that in Texas, if you were the governor. He was, so he did. He stepped over to the tall floor-length windows and stared out at Austin and Texas and the end of his life. He could see it all from the second story of the Governor's Mansion. He was the governor of Texas, but he