A Scandalous Affair Page 7

  “Are you busy this evening?”

  “Not really.”

  “Then we’ll play it by ear. How’s that?”

  “Fine. See you later.”

  Slowly, Chad returned the receiver to its base, ruminating over his conversation with Samantha. He blew out a breath. Yes, he was attracted to her. Yes, he found her desirable. A part of him wanted to keep it all impersonal, strictly business—understanding the repercussions. Yet, that male part of him, the part that had been lonely for so long, nearly begged for what Samantha was willing to offer. But was that enough to embark upon a relationship? He knew it wasn’t. He had to be clear about what he was doing. He needed to be sure that his attraction was not born of desperation, gratitude or availability. Or the fact that the woman he’d thought he’d come home to was not interested.

  Samantha was too genuine, too open and caring to be dragged into an abyss of indecision on his part. But maybe if he just gave himself a chance, he could let go of his doubts and move on with his life. It was apparent that Simone had.

  Exhausted from a two-hour session with church and community leaders about funding for a recreation center in her area, Simone finally made it to her car and headed home. Halfway there she had a change of heart. At the stoplight she slipped on her headset, reached for her cell phone and pressed the one button programmed to her mother’s office.

  “Congresswoman Montgomery’s office,” the tart voice of Martha Howell answered. She always reminded Simone of someone who’d unexpectedly sucked on a lemon and was annoyed at being tricked. But once you got to know her, she was the sweetest woman on earth, and she loved her mother to death. Martha would do anything for Vaughn, even tell her family to call back at another time when she knew Vaughn was overwhelmed.

  “Hi, Martha, it’s Simone.”

  “Hello, darling. How are you?”

  “Pretty good. Busy as all hell. But good. How about you?”

  “The old knees aren’t what they used to be, but no sense in complaining.” She laughed lightly. “You want to speak to your mom?”

  “Yes, if she’s not busy.”

  “She just walked back into the office a few minutes ago. Let me put you through before she gets involved in something else.”

  “Thanks, Martha.”

  Within moments, Vaughn was on the line. “Hi, baby. You just caught me. I was on my way back out the door. What’s going on?”

  “Hey, if you’re busy…it’s okay. It can wait.”

  Vaughn knew that tone of need. “What can wait?” she asked quietly.

  “Nothing. Really, it’s not important.”

  “It was important enough for you to call, Simone. And whatever I need to do, it can wait until I get there.” She paused a beat. “I’m listening.”

  Simone swallowed and took a deep breath, knowing that once the words were out she couldn’t take them back. “Would it be okay if I come over?” she asked, her voice suddenly trembling with emotion.

  “Simone, what is it? Are you ill? Has something happened?”

  She gulped over the knot in her throat. “No, I’m not sick or anything. I…just need to talk.”

  “Sure, baby. Do you want to come here, or the house, or can I meet you somewhere? Whatever you want.”

  Simone smiled weakly and sniffed. “I could come there. I’m already in my car. It would only take me about fifteen minutes or so.”

  “I’ll be here.”

  “Thanks, Ma.”

  “And, Simone…”

  “Yes?”

  “Whatever it is, we can work it out. Okay?”

  “Okay,” she said weakly. “See you in a bit.”

  “You never mentioned anything about…being involved with Chad,” Vaughn said softly, her heart aching for the pain in her daughter’s face.

  Simone was partially curled up in an overstuffed leather lounge chair, her fist pressed to her lips. “At the time I just figured it was one of those things.”

  “But it wasn’t?”

  Simone shook her head sadly.

  “But, honey, let’s be honest. You gave this man no indication that you were interested.”

  Her eyes flashed. “He could have written me, too, if he cared.”

  “Yes, he could. But that’s a two-sided coin, Simone. Chad is a decent man. But he’s a man, and he took his cues from you.”

  “So what am I supposed to do now?”

  “This may sound tacky and cliché, but you made your bed and now you have to lie in it. Maybe things will work out with Chad and your sister, maybe not. But you’re not going to be the cause of whatever happens one way or the other.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “I’m saying to leave it alone. Leave them alone to work out whatever. If he decides to tell her about his relationship with you, then let him. I doubt if he will. But if…anything…has intimately gone on between them, the last thing you need to do is lay that in her lap.”

  “And I’m supposed to sit back and bite my tongue, work with both of them on this case and not say word, not feel anything?”

  “You’re entitled to your feelings, Simone. Unfortunately, you’ve learned the hard way about taking sexual relationships lightly. Feelings do become involved, especially if it’s with someone for whom you have some sort of care and concern.”

  “Do you think he cares about me at all, Ma?” she asked weakly, her eyes filling.

  “I’m sure he does, Simone. And if he’s still the same sensitive Chad I remember, he’s gone through his changes, too.”

  Simone lowered her head. There really wasn’t anything she could do about it. And the longer she brooded over it, the more depressed she would become. Eventually it would spill into other areas of her life as well. What other areas? she taunted herself. Work. That was her life, and look where it had gotten her. She sighed in resignation and pushed herself up from her feline position in the chair. “Thanks, Ma. For listening.”

  Vaughn’s heart felt as if it twisted in her chest. “Always. You know that.” She crossed the room. “You have a great future ahead of you,” she soothed, cradling Simone against her. “Give yourself some time, open your eyes and explore your options.”

  Simone nodded numbly. That’s what she’d have to do. And she’d smile and be pleasant every time she saw Sam and Chad together, and she’d move on. They’d never know.

  Chapter 12

  Chad walked with Samantha to her front door, head bowed. “Looks like we have a pretty awesome task in front of us,” he murmured, referring to the more than 200 cases in the file that was still growing.

  “I know.” She reached in her purse for her key. “Are you going to bring it to trial yourself, or will Justin?”

  “He and I’ll work together to process all of the necessary papers. He said he’d serve as second chair.”

  She stuck the key in the lock. “Can you…stay awhile, or do you need to call the car service and get home? I mean I know it’s late and tomorrow is a workday…”

  “No. I can stay…for a while.”

  Samantha tugged in a breath, turned and unlocked the door. Stepping inside, she flicked on the light and the very Afrocentric apartment was bathed in a soft glow. The delicate scent of vanilla hung lightly in the air.

  Chad casually looked around, taking in the tasteful decor, the subtle touches that added a unique charm to the sculpted room, with its earthy colors, bronze and wood statuettes of African kings and queens, fabric wall hangings and straw mats, the rattan couch covered with a mudcloth throw. And Samantha, in all her natural loveliness, fit in perfectly.

  “This is a great place, Sam.”

  “Thanks. Make yourself comfortable.” She took her shoes, which she’d removed at the door, and put them in the hall closet. “Can I get you anything?” she asked from behind the closet door.

  “No. I’m cool. Thanks.” He scanned her shelves of books. The eclectic blend included everything from Hemingway, Baldwin, Dickens and Updike, to law reviews, romance novels, mus
ic magazines and auto repair reference books. He smiled. Sam was truly a complex young woman with myriad tastes. He liked that. The sound of John Coltrane’s “My One and Only Love” drifted to him from the stereo. “When I finally settle into my own spot, I’d like to be able to pull it together like this.”

  Samantha tucked her feet beneath her on the couch. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  “Absolutely.” He crossed the room and sat opposite her on the matching love seat.

  “Speaking of which, when do you want to start hunting?”

  “I was hoping if you were free this weekend, we could at least tour some of the neighborhoods. I know things have changed since I lived here.”

  “That’s true.” She laughed lightly. “This weekend sounds fine. Saturday or Sunday?”

  “How ’bout Sunday? We can do brunch first in Georgetown, then spend the afternoon riding around. And we’ll use my car,” he added pointedly.

  “Fine. I usually try to sneak into the office on Saturday anyway. So it works for me.”

  “My One and Only Love” segued to “In a Sentimental Mood.”

  “Sure I can’t get you anything?” Samantha asked again.

  “Yeah, maybe a rum and Coke if you have it.”

  “Heavy on the rum or the Coke?” she teased.

  “You decide.”

  Her pulse thumped, then settled. Uncurling her long body, she padded toward the china cabinet that contained bottles of Chardonnay, Black Label and Johnnie Walker. She prepared Chad’s drink, then one for herself—easy on the rum.

  She felt him behind her before he uttered a word. It was as if the air was suddenly cut off and a gentle warmth wrapped around her. The muscles in her stomach fluttered and she nearly sloshed the dark amber liquid on the sideboard as she added a stirrer to each drink.

  “Can I help?”

  The hot, whispered breath brushed along her exposed neck. The tiny hairs quivered to attention.

  “Uh, you can take this,” she said, turning right into him.

  Gingerly, he took the glass from her fingers. “This one mine?”

  “Umm-hmm,” she mumbled, bobbing her head.

  “Thanks.” He returned in camera-perfect movements back to the love seat.

  Shortly, Samantha made it back to her seat, her head spinning and her pulse beating out of control. Did she just imagine what almost happened—that look in his eyes, the sparks that flashed between them? Maybe so. Because from where she was sitting Chad acted as though nothing happened.

  “If you ever decide to give up the public life you definitely could tend bar.”

  She smiled and the wobbly feeling slowly ebbed. “I watched my father during all the politicking, fundraising and elbow-rubbing sessions at the house. Monie and I would practice when Mom and Dad weren’t home,” she said with a chuckle of mischief.

  “Ever get caught?”

  “Nope. Thank goodness. Even at our age, we’d still be grounded.”

  Chad laughed. “I can believe that. Justin isn’t one to let anything slide. That must be where you got it from,” he added thoughtfully.

  “Got what?”

  “Not letting anything get past the radar. Zeroing in on the issue.”

  She flicked her brows. “Maybe. It’s hard to say what’s inherent and what you pick up along the way. For most of my life I grew up without my father’s influence.” Her gaze drifted away for a moment as she thought back to the years she didn’t know who he was or why he wasn’t in her life. It was a question her mother deftly dodged for nearly fifteen years, simply telling her that her father had abandoned them. Realizing it had all been one big lie almost destroyed her and severely fractured her relationship with her mother, Janice. It wasn’t until the past year that she was able to have a civilized conversation with her mother without it erupting into a fit of anger.

  Her father was not the unfeeling monster her mother made him out to be. He was a decent, caring man who’d missed her in his life as much as she’d missed him in hers.

  “Your father loves you a lot,” Chad said, cutting into her thoughts.

  Sam blinked several times. Her smile wavered. “I know. I’m lucky.” She curled a bit tighter on the couch and took a sip of her drink. “What about you, Chad? Are you close to your family?”

  He pursed his lips, watching the ice change shape in his glass. “Not as close as I would like.”

  “Why is that?” It was hard for her to understand those who were lucky enough to have families but didn’t cherish them, want to be a part of something bigger than themselves—that link that made them who they were.

  “My mother, hmm, what can I say? Naomi Rushmore never saw herself as a mother. It was a burden. She saw herself as the desire of any man she came into contact with. Her own pleasures were more important than raising me and my brother, Anthony.”

  Samantha watched the pained expression move like a shadow across his face, and her heart went out to him. She had been a victim of parental selfishness and knew what the effects of that could be. In her case she tended to reach out, wanting or needing to embrace those in pain or suffering a loss.

  “I think Tony needed her more than I did. So he went looking for affection in the street.” He paused, reflecting.

  “What happened?” she asked with caution after several moments of silence spread out between them.

  Chad pulled in a long breath. “Got hooked up with a gang when he was about sixteen, got arrested more times than I can remember. The ugly part is, he was finally getting his life together. He went back to school at night, got his G.E.D.” His voice cracked as he continued. “He was, uh, on his way to his first job interview.” He smiled at the memory. “Man, he was so proud. ‘I’m gonna be something, brother,’ he told me. ‘I’m gonna get this job and turn my life around. Take care of Linda and my kid.’”

  His nostrils flared as he sucked in air. He took a long, pensive swallow of his drink. “Your past comes back to haunt you,” he said, his voice strained. “Tony was standing on the corner waiting for the bus and a member of a rival gang shot him dead in the street over some old beef.”

  Samantha’s hand flew to her mouth. “Oh, Chad, I’m sorry.”

  “It was a long time ago.” He said the words with quiet detachment, but the pain of the memory was evident in his eyes.

  “What happened to his girlfriend and the child?”

  “Linda moved out of Atlanta shortly afterward with her parents. Got married about three years ago. We still stay in touch and she sends me pictures of my niece, Tanya.”

  They were quiet for a moment. Coltrane softly serenaded them in the background.

  “Hey, I better get going. Now it is late.” He chuckled lightly, rousing himself from his reverie. He put his glass on the end table and stood. Samantha made a move to get up. “No. Stay put. I can let myself out.” He stood above her, then leaned down and gently brushed her lips with his before grazing his thumb across her mouth. “See you soon.” He headed for the door.

  “Chad.”

  He turned, a questioning expression on his face. “Yeah…”

  Samantha got up and stood in front of him. She reached out and stroked his face, never letting her gaze lose his. “I…don’t want you to go.” There, she’d said it. She’d put her cards on the table.

  “Sam…” He released a short breath. His brows drew together. “And if I stay, Samantha, then what? Are you sure you want to take it there? Because I’m not looking for a fling.” Not this time, he thought, Simone flashing through his head. “It has to mean something and not just for tonight.”

  It was everything she’d wanted him to say. In those few sentences he’d clearly told her the kind of man he was—the kind of man she was looking for.

  A slow smile, soft as a breeze, moved across her mouth. “You’re right. I do want it to mean more than one night. And it will. When you’re ready.”

  His tight expression softened. The corner of his mouth quirked upward. “Samantha Montgome
ry,” he said as he shook his head slowly, drawing her to him, “what am I going to do with you?”

  She arched her neck. “We’ll have to see, now, won’t we?” She kissed him lightly and withdrew. “Good night, Chad.”

  Without warning, he slid his arm around her waist, pulling her completely to him. His mouth captured hers, his teeth toyed with her full bottom lip, his tongue dueled lightly with hers. It would be so easy to take this further, to give in to the sensations that rioted through him, take what this beautiful woman was offering. But he was never one for easy, and neither was Samantha. They would play this out. They had to.

  Slowly he eased back and her eyes like two flames burned into his.

  “Good night, Sam.”

  This time he made it to the door and she didn’t stop him.

  Chapter 13

  “I had an interesting conversation with Simone,” Vaughn whispered, snuggled in the protective embrace of Justin’s arms.

  “Hmm,” he mumbled, fighting the first wave of sleep. He’d just made the most exquisite love with his wife and all he wanted was to drift off with the memory of it and the feel of her in his arms. “What did she say?” He rubbed his feet together beneath the covers, and Vaughn knew it would only be moments before he was out for the count.

  “Did you have any idea that she’d had an affair with Chad?”

  Justin’s eyes flew open, then blinked rapidly. “Huh?”

  “Before he went away.”

  He was fully awake now. “I knew they were close… but not that close. I had no idea it went that far. But…” He turned on his side, focusing on her in the dark. “I hear something else beneath your voice. There has to be more to it than that.” He pushed himself up against the pillows. “What is it?”

  Vaughn quickly recounted her conversation with Simone, leaving out very little.

  “Damn,” he muttered from between his teeth. “And Sam knows nothing about it?”

  “Nope.”

  “Well, don’t you think someone ought to tell her?”