Читать книгу A Scandalous Affair - Donna Hill, Donna Hill - Страница 12

Samantha arrived early at her local offices in Georgetown. On a clear day she could glimpse the imposing structure of the Washington Monument, and the outline of the Capitol building. It all looked so pure and powerful, strong and white, symbolic of the freedoms for which men and women fought and sacrificed their lives.

She turned away from the farce that darkened her window and crossed the tiny office space to her cluttered desk, stacked with files, forms, and to-do correspondence. Her assistant and dear friend Mia left her a list of calls to be returned and invoices to be signed. Although it was Saturday, this was the day she accomplished the most. When the phones weren’t ringing off the hook, clients weren’t running in and out, and her small but efficient staff wasn’t pulling her in every direction at once.

This was her time, her quiet time for reflection and reorganization.

Although she’d made a silent vow the night before to sleep later, as usual she was up before the sun, and she had completed her ritual two-mile jog by six.

Energized, showered and her mind crystal clear, she’d wound up at her office before eight.

Moving to the make-believe kitchen—which was no more than a microwave and a miniature refrigerator—tucked in the back of the three-room office, Samantha ran some water in a mug and popped it into the microwave. A cup of herbal tea was just the thing she needed.

With tea in hand, she methodically went through the pile of messages, discarded calls she would not make, and then sorted by order of importance the ones to be made that morning and those that could wait until Monday.

Completing her calls to two reporters, one to her GYN doctor to reschedule her missed appointment and the other to a man who wanted her help in a housing discrimination suit, Samantha then went through the bills.

Although many compared her to the young and fiery Angela Davis, and the now in-your-face Reverend Al, Samantha Montgomery prided herself on several things which gave her an edge over both. One, she began her illustrious career working within the system, not against it. Two, she possessed parents in respected, powerful positions. And three, she had her degree in law, a fact very few people knew—but it served her well.

Her father’s dream was for her to one day partner with Chad and run the firm. Especially now that Khendra and Sean had relocated to New York to open their own offices. But that was his dream. At least the part about running the firm. She had no inclination to become trapped behind the bars—no pun intended—of political etiquette and intrigue. Pairing up with Chad, however, was an entirely different story.

Samantha smiled as she signed her name with a flourish on the last invoice in the pile and filled out the accompanying check for payment.

Chad. She glanced at the phone and then at the clock. It was almost ten. She barely hesitated as she pulled the phone toward her and dialed her parents’ home.

Simone took the blue plastic basket of laundry and sorted through the clothes as she made the appropriate choices and dropped them into the machine. Adding detergent and fabric softener—because she was never on time with the softener—she switched the dial to Hot and Start.

The sound of the rushing water and the low hum of the washer was comforting in a way as she moved through her two-bedroom apartment, dusting, mopping, discarding, and changing sheets and towels. It was nearly eleven, and the pangs of hunger threatened to overshadow her zest for domesticity. She recalled Chad’s invitation of the previous night. Maybe she should have taken him up on his offer of lunch—or dinner.

She pressed her lips together, debating whether to call him or not. After all, she didn’t want him to think she was too eager, or worse—desperate.

She weighed her options. The worst that could happen was that he would tell her he was busy. The best, that he wasn’t and would love to see her.

The phone seemed to beckon her from its perch of honor on the kitchen wall. Twisting her mouth in the final stages of contemplation, she snatched the phone from the cradle and punched in her parents’ phone number.

Dottie answered on the second ring.

“Montgomery residence.”

“Mornin’, Dottie. It’s me, Simone.”

“Hi, dahlin’. What can I do for you? Your mom and pop are still asleep—or at least they haven’t been seen today.” She chuckled merrily. “You’d think those two were teenagers.” She laughed again and Simone smiled, hoping that one day she’d find not just the lust but the love her parents had.

“No, I wasn’t calling for them.” She cleared her throat. “Actually, I was, uh, wondering if Chad was around. But—don’t trouble yourself,” she began to ramble. “If he’s still asleep, I can call later or tomorrow. Really, don’t bother—”

“Whoa, hold your horses. Chad is out back, been up for hours. As a matter of fact, he just this minute finished a call with Sam. Hold the line while I get him.”

Before Simone could register her protest, Dottie had laid the phone down and was gone in search of Chad.

Now she felt like a bumbling idiot. What would she say? Why was she even calling? This was so infantile. She should just—

“Hello?”

“Hi…it’s…Simone.”

“Hey, Simone.”

He sounded happy to hear from her, she thought. “Busy?”

“Not at the moment. But I will be soon. What’s up?”

“I was getting hungry and I was wondering if…you still wanted to…go to lunch.”

“Uh, you’re about five minutes late. Sam just called and asked me to meet her at Cisco’s.”

There was an uneasy moment of silence.

Sam? “Oh, hey, no problem. Have fun. Okay?”

“Sure. Maybe another time. We’ll have to get together at some point and talk about launching this case. Hopefully, one day this week.”

“Yeah…the case.” Her head was spinning and she had a sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach. “Anyway, let me run. I’ll talk to you.”

“Take care, Simone. I’ll call you.”

She hung up without saying anything further and possibly making a bigger fool of herself.

Heavily, she sat down in the chair. Maybe it was nothing, she concluded—Sam and Chad. Just a friendly lunch for old time’s sake. What else could it be?

Samantha arrived at Cisco’s at exactly noon. Chad was sitting at the bar of the upscale restaurant with his back to her. She pulled in a breath and walked forward.

“Hi, waiting long?” she asked, placing her hand on his back.

Chad turned his head and smiled up at her. “Not at all. Just got here myself. You want to sit at the bar or get a table?”

She gazed quickly around at the sprinkling of people in the trendy bistro. “Table sounds good to me.”

He rose from the bar stool and brushed innocently against her in the process. Samantha drew in a quick breath, slightly unnerved by his touch, and smiled tightly.

Casually, Chad put his arm around her waist and led her to the hostess who sat them.

“What are you in the mood for?” he asked, scanning the menu.

“The house salad is excellent. And I love the Tahini dressing they use.”

“I’m still growing.” He chuckled. “I think I’ll go with the burger and some fries.”

The waitress arrived shortly and took their orders.

Samantha folded her hands in her lap. “So, how does it feel being back home?”

His brows rose, then lowered. “Good but strange. Everything seems the same but different. I’ve been so accustomed to odd languages, customs and time frames—it takes some getting used to.”

“Yeah, I can imagine. I know you must have learned a lot.”

He nodded. “That I did. I mean, I went abroad with the intention of seeing how unfair the laws are outside of the U.S., only to discover that the real problems are right here at home—disguised as democracy.”

Samantha rested her forearms on the table and leaned forward. “How do you plan to go about the class action suit?” Her eyes studied him intently.

“I want to begin with securing a list, from you actually, of all the cases that have come through your office and begin contacting the families. Then I want to work with Justin to review case files and arrest records as well as hospital records.”

“Wow. That’s quite a load.”

“It can be done.”

“I’ll do anything I can to help. You know that.”

He reached across the table and covered her hands with his. “I’m counting on you.”

Their food arrived and they ate for a few moments in silence. Samantha was the first one to break it.

“So…besides hunting down the bad guys, what do you do these days for entertainment?”

He chuckled. “That’s a good question. I haven’t been out socially in nearly four years.” Images of his last night with Simone suddenly danced beneath his conscience.

“Maybe we can change that,” she said with a bold smile.

Chad cocked his head to the side, a playful glint coming into his eyes. “Are you propositioning me, Ms. Montgomery?”

“Absolutely. All work and no play…you know the rest.”

“I think I’d like that.”

The warm glow in her heart set her face aglow. “I was hoping you’d say that.” She almost giggled.

“What did you have in mind?”

“If I remember correctly, you love jazz. Hopefully, that hasn’t changed.”

“No way. It was one of the main things I longed for while I was away.”

“Great. There’s a fabulous local band, Magique, that’s playing on Wednesday nights. My treat.”

“Well, well, a woman for the millennium,” he chuckled. “Sounds great.”

“What if I pick you up about eight. That will give me enough time to finish up at the office and go home and change.”

“You don’t have to pick me up. I can meet you.”

“My treat, remember? That means transportation is included.”

“I was never one to turn down a good deal.”

Samantha looked at him from beneath her lashes, stuck the fork in her salad and slowly slipped a mouthful between her lips.

“You’ve changed, Samantha,” he said as if seeing her for the first time.

“I know,” she said softly.

Simone stared at the typed words in the book she was reading. All the lines seemed to merge together, not making any sense. Gibberish. She tossed it aside and gazed up at the bedroom ceiling. Her house was spotless. Her laundry was finished. She didn’t have to return to work until Monday and she didn’t have a damned thing to do in the meantime.

She crossed her legs at the ankle, then folded her hands across her stomach. She was edgy, too full of energy. Her mind was racing. Driving usually helped when she felt this way. The concentration it took to maneuver the roads, the relaxation that came from seeing the landscape spread out in front of her worked to knock the kinks out.

She popped up from the bed, put on her sneakers, grabbed her car keys and headed out.

After driving for a good hour, she took stock of her surroundings and was surprised to find herself on the road to the bed and breakfast that she’d shared with Chad. She kept going. That was then. This is now. A memory. A good time. That’s all it was. So why couldn’t she just file it away and forget it?

If only it was that easy.

Taking the next exit, she headed back. She needed to talk, get her feelings out, the ones she’d tried to pretend didn’t exist for the past four years. And the one person who understood her feelings, her fears and struggles was her sister, Samantha. Her eyes momentarily filled. She’d been so determined not to get caught up in that love trap thing that she’d probably ruined whatever chance there might have been. It had been a matter of priorities. Her career had been more important. She’d been a modern woman of the nineties. No strings. No commitments. So she’d never admitted to anyone, not even herself, how much that one night had meant to her.

And now, she’d gotten what she wished for—a relationship free of commitments and strings. And he was free as well. Free to be with her sister.

“Thanks for hanging with me this afternoon. It was great,” Samantha said as they stood together outside of Cisco’s. Her voice dropped a note. “I’m looking forward to Wednesday.”

“So am I.”

Samantha pulled in a breath. “Well, I guess I’ll see you.”

“Absolutely.”

“How long are you going to be staying at Mom and Dad’s?”

“I have to start apartment hunting as soon as possible. They keep insisting that I can stay as long as I want, but I can’t do that. I need to have my own space. Where I can work and think.”

“I know what you mean. As much as I love them, I love being on my own.”

Chad slid his hands into his pockets. “Are you really on your own?”

“What do you mean?”

“Are you seeing anyone, living with someone, planning to?”

She smiled nervously. “No to all of the above.”

“By choice or circumstance?”

“A combination of both. I haven’t come across anyone that I want to be with—like that.”

“Hmm.”

“What about you? Is there a lady in waiting?”

“Not that I know of.”

Silence momentarily hung between them like a sheer veil until Chad brushed it aside. “Maybe if you have some time you can help me apartment hunt.”

Her heart raced. “Sure. Let me know when you’re ready.”

“I’ll do that.” Suddenly, he leaned forward and kissed her cheek, not a big-brother kiss, but a man kissing a woman kind of kiss. A kiss promising intimacy to come. A kiss which set her entire body to tingling. He eased back. “Good seeing you, Sam. Get home safely.” He turned and headed for his rented car.

For several moments, Samantha stood there as if she’d been glued to the concrete, watching him move languidly down the street.

“It was good seeing you, too,” she whispered and opened the door to her car. She couldn’t wait to get home and call Simone.