Читать книгу A Compromising Affair - Gwynne Forster, Gwynne Forster - Страница 8

Two years later…

Scott Galloway stared out of his office window into the cold sunlight of a June morning in Vilnius, Lithuania, a small country situated between Belarus and the Baltic Sea. Two years in the diplomatic outpost had gone by far more quickly than he had anticipated. He had made a difference in the lives of the people working at the embassy and in the quality of diplomatic relationships between the United States and Lithuania. But for the past two years, his personal life had been on hold.

He zipped up his leather toiletries case, put it and his laptop in his small carry-on bag and paused for a moment. He slowly perused his office and the photo of him that hung alongside those of the U.S. president and the secretary of state, which brought a smile to his face. Then, he shrugged and headed out the door and down the corridor to the exit, where the embassy staff had lined up to tell him goodbye.

“We’ll miss you, sir,” one of the embassy officers said. “You made this place come alive.”

He didn’t give the statement much credence. If he had brought life to the place, it must certainly have been dead a long time before he got there. “Thank you, Aggie. You’ve been of immense help.” Although the comment lacked veracity, it was bound to inflate her already oversize ego. But the next ambassador would have to deal with her.

“I hate to see you go, sir,” an older man, a native of Vilnius, said to him. “They said I was too old to work and they were going to fire me. I don’t know what I’ll do now.”

“I left a letter recommending you to the next ambassador, so don’t worry. You’re one of the best workers here.” He patted the man on the shoulder and was about to depart, when the elderly janitor, Misha, pressed something into Scott’s hand. “It’s from my mother. She’s a hundred and one. Since you came, it was the first time she’d tasted caviar in forty years. She gave me this to give to you.”

Deeply touched, he thanked the man. “Give your mother my love and my humble thanks.”

A young-looking man ran toward him, seemingly out of breath. “This just came, sir.” He handed Scott a letter marked personal. He recognized the handwriting of Helga Wilander, the woman he’d befriended en route to Lithuania when he’d first arrived. He put the letter inside the breast pocket of his suit jacket, waved to the staff, got into the waiting limousine and headed for the airport. His first tour as United States ambassador was behind him. He exhaled a long breath, sat back and contemplated what he imagined was his future.

Remembering the envelope that Misha had given him, he opened it and gasped when he saw the six-by-eight-inch Russian icon of Mary, painted on silver and set in an old hammered silver frame. He looked at it for a long time, put it back in the envelope, wrote the old man’s name on the envelope and put it in his briefcase. It was probably the most valuable object that Misha owned, and Scott vowed to write and thank him as soon as he was settled into his new job.

An airport attendant ushered him into the VIP lounge, where a waiter immediately placed a tray with coffee and assorted sweets in front of him. He would have appreciated fruit, any kind of fruit, since that was the one thing that was hard to find during the long winter months in Vilnius. The embassy got fruit from the States for special occasions, but only rarely. He couldn’t wait to sink his teeth into some blueberries. The woman who sat facing him in the lounge smiled, and asked if he would like company.

“No, thank you,” he said, not sure why such a good-looking and seemingly wealthy woman would be on the make in an international airport. Just the place to find a wealthy man, to make a seemingly innocent connection or to engage in covert espionage, he thought.

He gave the woman his most rakish smile, and when she didn’t back off, he said, “Nothing would be more enjoyable, but I have to hand in this report immediately after I land, so I’ll be working for the next ten hours solid.”

She pursed her lips in what appeared to be a pout. “Not even time out for an itsy-bitsy drink?”

He let a grin float over his face. “A guy’s got to work if he wants to eat. Thanks, I’m going to get started on this work.”

If she hadn’t pouted, he might have thought he’d misread her, but he hadn’t. She was a plant, though he couldn’t imagine why. He opened his laptop and got to work. Later, when she didn’t board the plane in either first or business class, he knew he’d been right in his assessment. His experiences over the past two years had been a great teacher, reinforcing his conviction that you couldn’t accept women at their word, sometimes not even at their behavior and definitely not based on looks. Nowadays, sultry smiles, perfectly shaped bosoms and swinging hips barely got his attention.

He smiled to himself, though he was not amused. The last time he’d misjudged a woman’s intentions, she had handed him one of the most painful lessons of his life. He’d fallen for a girl his freshman year in college, only to learn that she was very different than what she seemed—especially after she was arrested and expelled from school. But he quickly got over her. However, Louise Fiske was a different story.

For months, she’d sworn that he was the only man for her. But when he needed her, she’d let him down with a resounding thud. After agreeing to accompany him to a fraternity social where he was to receive a prestigious award in his senior year, she inexplicably disappeared. Concerned for her safety, he ended up missing the awards ceremony. How was he to know that she’d been leading him on, and was secretly dating another guy? Now, years later, he remembered those lessons and swore that he’d never make those mistakes again, and he’d kept that promise.

A heavyset middle-aged man took the seat beside him in first class, whispered a prayer and almost immediately took out some photographs from his briefcase. A smile covered his face as he gazed at the pictures.

Scott hadn’t planned to initiate a conversation with the stranger, but curiosity prompted him. “Your family?” he asked the man.

“Yes. For the past year, I’ve been working as a construction engineer in Vilnius. I couldn’t leave the job, so I’ve never seen my infant son. I can’t wait to get home. I have twin daughters, too,” the man went on as if the floodgates had opened up. “They’re my life. We thought we couldn’t have any more children due to my wife’s age—she was thirty-five when we married, which is usually not good news if you want to start a family. But this little fellow is healthy, and I thank God all the time.” The man shook his head as if amazed by the miracle of it. He handed Scott the photograph.

“I resisted getting married, but I’m happier than I ever thought I’d be. You got kids?”

Scott stared at the photograph and handed it back to the man. “Not that I know of. I’ve been so busy with my career that I’ve let some important areas of my life slide. But when I get home, I’m going to put first things first.”

“You’re right. I said I’d make my first million before I was thirty-five, and I put living on hold,” the man said.

“Money is necessary, but it won’t buy any of the things that make me happy. Go for it,” the man said. “Life is short.”

Scott could no longer bear to look at the expression of pure joy on the man’s face as he gazed at the pictures of his three children. Scott took pride in his accomplishments, since he was by any measure a success. But he needed more, a different kind of fulfillment. For two years, he had retired every evening to his personal quarters, taken off the diplomatic mask and settled into a loneliness that he couldn’t escape. Sure, he was satisfied with the choices he’d made, but not with the sacrifices.

He lifted his glass to his seatmate. “Thanks. Here’s to a good life.”

The man took a sip after the toast, but a quizzical expression soon spread across his face. “I appreciate your goodwill, but why did you thank me?” the man asked.

Scott savored the glass of wine, held the glass up and drained it. “The people I meet in my line of work are chasing something—dreams, money, status, promotions, women, whatever,” he said. “But you stuck with your values, found what you need and recognized it when you got it. That’s rare. I hope to do the same.”

Ten hours later, when the plane landed at Reagan National Airport, Scott had decided he was going to give himself one year in which to settle down and start a family. He realized it was a tall order, but he also knew that his bosses wouldn’t give him more than a year between overseas assignments. He had no intention of spending another year wearing Brooks Brothers suits with shoes that shone like glass, working five, and sometimes seven, days a week, making certain that his face bore just the right expression as he carefully watched every word he uttered, only to be rewarded with lonely, celibate nights.

Where would he start? Of the women he knew and liked, he couldn’t see himself sharing his life with any of them. A State Department chauffeur and car met him at the airport and took him to the Willard Inter-Continental hotel, where reservations had been made for him. He usually didn’t require that kind of luxury, but it went with the job.

After checking in, he went to his suite. There, he dropped his bag near the door and headed for the kitchen, where he knew he’d find some fresh fruit. When his superior at the State Department had asked his preference for a hotel, he’d said he didn’t care where they put him up so long as he found plenty of fresh citrus and berries in the refrigerator. He washed a handful of blueberries and savored them.

Home. How sweet it is, he thought.

He resisted the temptation to go to bed at three in the afternoon and telephoned Judson Philips-Sparkman, his closest friend since the age of five.

“Attorney Philips-Sparkman speaking.”

“Man, half of that name is enough. Saying the whole thing is a damned tongue twister.”

“Scott! Where the hell are you? Aren’t you due back soon?”

“I am, and I’m here.”

“What? When? You mean you’re in D.C.?”

“I’m at the Willard in a nothing-left-to-the-imagination suite. The plane landed about two and a half hours ago. How’s Heather? You two getting along all right?”

“Heather’s fine, and of course we’re getting along. If you mean at the office, we’ve easily worked that out. She has clients, and I have clients. We consult with each other, offer and give advice, but we don’t interfere in each other’s cases.”

“That’s good. Is her office as big as yours?”

Laughter seemed to roar out of Judson at the question. “Truthfully I’d give anything to say no, but they’re exactly the same size. I furnished mine to suit me, and she did the same in hers. By the way, when I try to help her out, she gives me a hard time. I hope she does the same when you meddle in her business. How soon can you get over here?”

“I want to hand in my report the day after tomorrow, so I can probably get there late Friday afternoon.”

“Why not spend the weekend with us? Check out of the hotel, and I’ll pick you up, say, at three-thirty. How’s that?”

“Works for me. Give Heather my love. See you Friday.”

Since he didn’t have any casual clothes with him, he decided to walk up to F Street, where he bought two pairs of jeans, half a dozen T-shirts and a pair of Reeboks. All he wanted was a chance to soak up some sun, be himself with his friends and leave the ambassador behind. After checking in with his father and younger brother, he showered and crawled into bed for a nap.

He awakened around six-thirty and called his grandmother, whom he had spoken to while en route to the hotel. “Hi, Nana. How about going out to dinner with me tonight?’

“As long as you feed me Maryland crab cakes. I love Italian and French food, but you know I love my crab cakes.”

“You’re on. I’ll be there in an hour.”

His office had advised him not to check out, but to remain in the hotel until he could move into his condo and his belongings had arrived from Vilnius. So, when Judson arrived on Friday afternoon, Scott was leaning against the reservation desk waiting for him.

“Lord, man, you’re a sight for sore eyes,” Scott said as he and Judson greeted each other with a warm embrace. “Marriage agrees with you, buddy.”

“You bet it does. Wait ’til you get to know my cousins and their families.”

“I liked what I’ve seen of them already. How is Heather dealing with such a big family?”

“You’ll see. Neither of us hangs around the office.”

“If you’d told me otherwise, I would have thought something was wrong with your marriage. You’ve only been married for, let’s see, eighteen months.”

“Best year and a half of my life. Let’s take the elevator down to the garage level.”

Judson drove his Mercedes out of the hotel garage onto Wisconsin Avenue, connected to Route 270 and headed for Frederick, Maryland. “We’re right in Eagle Park next to the Harrington estate, and that’s less than fifteen minutes from Frederick. Everybody’s expecting you. How’s Nana?”

“Great. We had dinner the night I got back.”

Half an hour later, Judson parked in front of a stately beige-colored brick house. The first-floor windows provided a glimpse of the cathedral ceilings and the elegant interior. “We told Russ what we wanted the house to look like,” Judson explained, “and he designed it to perfection. Drake and Telford did the rest. We’re so happy here.”

The door opened, and Heather greeted him with open arms. “I haven’t hugged a woman since I was here for your wedding eighteen months ago,” Scott said, enjoying Heather’s warm embrace.

“Just don’t get too comfortable there, buddy,” Judson told him.

The three of them went inside arm in arm. Once inside, a tall, good-looking woman in skin-tight jeans and a snug red T-shirt walked toward them. Heather grasped the woman’s arm. “Adelle Smith, this is Scott Galloway. Scott’s just completed a tour as ambassador to Lithuania. Scott, Adelle is one of my law associates.”

They greeted each other, although she seemed a bit more enthusiastic than Scott. “How do you do, Adelle?” he said, preferring not to say that he was delighted to meet her since he wasn’t so sure.

“I’m fine, Scott. Heather has told me so much about you. I couldn’t wait to meet such an impressive man.” Her smile bordered on an invitation, as he realized he was facing a woman who didn’t mind letting a man know that she liked what she saw.

He raised an eyebrow. “Heather, you never used to exaggerate. Does marriage do that to a person?”

“Of course not. I told her you’re like my big brother, and that I’m very protective of you. I also said you’re a super guy.”

Hmm. So he’d have to negotiate with Adelle for the remainder of the weekend, he thought. The problem was that, although she had the goods in all the right places, he did not like aggressive women who chose men on the basis of sex appeal. Besides, she’d made up her mind before she saw him.

Just play it cool, he said to himself. But how was he going to do that when he was sexually starved, and she’d let him know that nourishment was available?

“I’ll show you to your room, Scott,” Heather said, saving the day.

He followed her upstairs. “How far apart are these guest rooms, Heather, and does mine have a lock on the door?” Scott said.

She stopped at the top of the stairs, as her eyes widened and her jaw dropped. She stared at him, utterly speechless. Then she laughed so hard that she practically doubled over clutching her stomach. Scott slapped her on the back to help her recover.

“I’d forgotten how frank you can be,” she said.

“Don’t tell me I struck out.”

“I’m as hungry as an Alaskan wolf at the end of winter. But if I hook up with that one, I’ll never find what I really want.”

“What’s wrong with her?”

“A gentleman never says anything bad about a woman, no matter what the circumstances.”

“Chicken.”

She opened the door to the guest room. He tried the doorknob to make sure that it would lock, looked at Heather and winked.

“You were serious, weren’t you?” Heather said with a note of surprise in her voice.

He didn’t want her to misunderstand him. “Heather, that woman downstairs would take advantage of a drunken sailor. I’ll be down shortly.”

“Scott, please don’t be mad. I meant well,” she said, blinking rapidly, a subtle tic that appeared when she was nonplussed. “Honestly, I did. I’m remembering things about you now that I had forgotten during these past two years while you were away. You’re right. I definitely didn’t choose the right one.”

A grin spread across his face. It was so good to be back with his two dearest friends. “Knowing you, I’m sure you’ve got some more lined up. See you later.”

He let his gaze take in the decor of the room around him. He liked blue, and Heather had furnished the guest room in a light navy blue and rustic orange for a striking effect. He changed into black jeans and a red polo shirt, slipped on his new Reeboks and bounded down the wide, curved staircase. Russ Harrington was indeed a brilliant architect, Scott thought. He’d said as much to Judson.

“All three of them are good at what they do,” said Judson. “They have a tremendous reputation as builders, and Telford, the eldest, is only forty-one. The Harringtons are coming over with their wives after dinner. And the Harrington women have taken to Heather and made her one of their own.”

“So you’re glad you decided to live here?”

“Absolutely! My family is here. Scott, this is where I belong.”

“I’m glad for you, Judson. Say, I brought you guys something,” Scott said, handing Judson a box that contained half a dozen tins of Beluga caviar.

Judson looked at the contents of the box. “Get outta here, man. This stuff is precious. Let me see if Rosa has any crème fraîche.”

Heather looked at the gift. “Crème fraîche? All I need for this is some melba toast or blinis. Scott, you always were a classy guy. Thank you.”

“To tell the truth, it was caviar or vodka, unless I wanted to drag two fur coats home. Not a lot to choose from.”

“I’m not complaining,” Judson said. “Is this dry ice?”

“Yeah. Be careful not to let it burn you.”

Adelle came downstairs after having changed into a red jersey dress that advertised her assets. The four of them sat in the den, which was cozier than the thirty-by-twenty-foot living room with cathedral ceilings.

She saw the caviar on the coffee table and slowly licked the rim of her lips with her tongue, tracing the outline of her mouth in what would have been a great Marilyn Monroe imitation. “Mmm, caviar! This is the kind of delicacy that can make you forget who you are,” she said.

“In that case,” Scott said, “I would avoid it.”

Heather’s face was flush with embarrassment. She dashed into the kitchen, and quickly returned. “Dinner’s ready. Come with me,” she said hastily.

Judson said grace—a habit he’d adopted from the Harringtons—and then the housekeeper, Rosa, began serving the meal, which included broiled grapefruit as an appetizer, prime roast beef, parsleyed potatoes, asparagus and artichoke hearts. A wedge of Stilton cheese, followed by lemon meringue pie, completed the dinner.

“Rosa, you and women like you are the reason why I’m so happy to be back home,” said Scott, as Rosa served the pie. Judson dropped his fork on the dessert plate, and began coughing to avoid choking as he tried to suppress his amusement.

“Mr. Ambassador, you just made my day,” said Rosa, soaking up the praise. “I love to cook, and it makes me happy when I know my people enjoy what I serve them. Thank you, sir.”

Scott had hoped that he’d sent the right message—that he liked simple things, and in his choice of women, he preferred the girl next door. “I just tell it like it is, Rosa. You’re a wonderful cook.”

“What a lovely evening for a walk,” Adelle said, looking at Scott.

“Judson’s cousins and their wives will be over in a few minutes,” Heather said, “and the only reason they’re coming is to see Scott. Maybe you can go for a walk later,” she continued. Minutes later, Drake Harrington, the youngest of the three Harrington brothers, and his wife, Pamela, joined them.

“Damn!” Scott said, looking at Drake when he walked into the room. “I forgot how much alike you and Judson are. Your grandfather had some powerful genes.”

“It’s our private joke,” Drake said, pulling out Pamela’s chair and making himself comfortable. “It’s a good thing we have a sense of humor, ’cause we confuse a lot of people.”

“Right,” Judson added, “and we’re lucky that our wives have become very good friends and don’t mind the resemblance.”

“The first time I saw Judson, I nearly went into shock,” Pamela said. “It took some getting used to.”

Scott observed Adelle surreptitiously. He could have sworn she seemed to salivate, but whether it was because of him or Drake Harrington, he wasn’t sure. Telford Harrington and his brother Russ arrived together, along with their wives, Alexis and Velma, who were sisters. Immediately Velma began entertaining them with her stories, and Scott leaned back in his chair, sipping piña coladas, listening to the various conversations and enjoying the good company. Like a long-lost son, Scott felt that he had come home to surroundings of warmth and love. Adelle Smith was out of her element, and her obvious discomfort showed it.

By ten-thirty, Scott felt a bit jet-lagged. He told his hosts he was tired and went to his room. He would have preferred to continue the conversation, which he had greatly enjoyed, but he reasoned that Adelle wouldn’t have the nerve to follow him up the stairs in such an obvious ploy. He locked the door, and thought to himself, Safe for at least one night.

The next morning, he called Judson on his cell phone. “Say, man, what time is breakfast and who’s up?”

Laughter seemed to roar out of Judson’s mouth. “I had almost forgotten that you were so blunt. The reason for running off last night was obvious. But if you’re hungry, why give a damn who’s up?”

“Why, indeed? I like my breakfast in peace. I don’t know, though. Something tells me that if Drake’s around, I won’t have a problem.”

“What do you mean?”

“Her mouth looked like it was watering once he arrived.”

He didn’t need the phone to hear Judson’s laughter. “Come on downstairs, man. Rosa made a fantastic breakfast.”

Scott dressed for dinner that evening, since he assumed he’d be expected to drive Adelle home to Baltimore. It would also give him the opportunity to let her know in no uncertain terms that he was not interested in her.

“If you give me the keys to your Mercedes, I’ll drive Adelle back to Baltimore,” Scott said to Judson, in a quiet moment away from the rest of the guests, when they gathered for predinner drinks.

Judson’s eyebrows shot up. “You sure you want to do that?”

“It’s the best chance to disabuse her of any notion she has about me. It’ll take me no longer than the half hour or so that it takes me to drive there and back.”

A grin flashed across Judson’s face. “That time as a bigwig didn’t change you one bit. Glad to see it.” He reached into his trouser pockets, took out two sets of keys and handed the smaller one to Scott. “This is the house key and this is the car key.”

“Thanks, buddy.”

After dinner, he tired of waiting for Adelle to announce that she was leaving, so he decided to take matters into his own hands. “Adelle, if you’re going to Baltimore tonight, I’ll be glad to drive you, but we’ll need to leave now.” He felt the tiniest inkling of guilt when he saw her face break out in the warmest smile he’d witnessed, but he quickly shook it off.

He managed to avoid saying anything personal during the drive to Baltimore. The conversation had been amicable by the time they arrived at her condominium, in what was obviously an upscale neighborhood.

“Aren’t you coming in?” she asked him, when he opened the car door for her. He stood back and extended his hand for a handshake, leaving her clearly aghast.

He shook his head. “To do that would send you the wrong message. I’m not interested, Adelle, and I do not mislead women. Good night.” He left her standing in front of her apartment building, walked back to the driver’s side of the car and got in. When she didn’t move, he started the car to let her know that he wasn’t joking. Only then did she turn and enter the building. Ordinarily, he wouldn’t think of being that rude, but he hadn’t met many women like Adelle. He hoped that Pamela Harrington was an observant woman, and that she’d noticed the look in Adelle’s eyes as she ogled Pamela’s husband, Drake.

“We’re having a barbecue this afternoon,” Heather told Scott at breakfast the next morning, “and all the Harringtons will be here.”

“What about Tara? And Henry? Is he coming?”

“Indeed, he is. Henry is the same,” she said. “He’s just as spry and his tongue is as tart as ever. I can’t think of life without Henry.”

Later that morning, Scott took his swim trunks and walked over to Telford’s house. Henry opened the door for him, and he clasped the frail man in a big hug. “If you gripped me any tighter,” Henry said, “I’d think you were one of those snakes that squeezes the life out of things before devouring them. Thanks for leaving my old bones intact. You look great, and I been expectin’ to see you.”

“You’re the one who looks good. You don’t think I’d come to Eagle Park and leave without seeing you, do you?”

“Some people manage to, and in most cases, I’m glad they do.”

“Where’s Tara? She must be a big girl by now.”

“She’s nine and as sweet as she ever was. Tel took her to her piano lessons. You want coffee and something to go with it?”

“Actually, I’d like to take a swim in the pool. I know it’s still a bit cool for that, but I got used to swimming in water that was barely tepid.”

“Looks like it did you good. You’re bigger, but ya ain’t fat.”

He patted Henry’s shoulder. “I can’t afford to get fat, Henry. I’d have to buy all new clothes.”

Alexis swept into the kitchen. “Scott. I thought I heard someone talking, and Henry definitely doesn’t talk to himself. How are you this morning?” Her eyes twinkled with mischief, and he didn’t have to guess why. “I hope you got back safely last night, and in good time.” He stared at her for a minute. She didn’t back down, giving the private joke free rein.

“A guy does what he has to do,” Scott said, playing along. “Is the pool open?”

“Russ opened it up a few weeks back when we had a hot spell. You’re welcome to swim as often as you like.”

“Thanks. In Vilnius I got in the habit of swimming every day, and I miss it already.”

Scott swam a few laps, and then hiked along the Monocacy River. As he walked along the trails, he wished he had a fishing rod and tackle. A profusion of spring flowers—jonquil, wild roses, lotus, morning glory, forsythia, dandelions and other wildflowers—greeted him as he strolled along the riverbank. Squirrels scampered up and down trees and across his path, ignoring him. He loved being alone in such a beautiful, natural environment. But at the moment, he longed for the company of a woman whom he deeply cared for. He made his way back to the Harrington estate, which Telford and his family occupied, and found Henry picking roses that grew beside the house.

“I never paid any attention to these here flowers,” Henry said, “’til Alexis came. She loves for the place to be pretty and elegant. But these here early roses got thorns, so I pick ’em to keep her from getting pricked.”

“You’re a gentleman, Henry. See you at the barbecue.”

Scott returned to Judson’s house, and after showering and changing into a yellow polo shirt and white jeans, he went to the kitchen to find Rosa. “You’ve got a crowd coming,” he said to her. “What can I do to help?”

She looked at him with adoring eyes, since he had become her favorite houseguest. “Maybe I shouldn’t ask you, but, Mr. Ambassador, I think the food should be covered. Can you cover the food with this cotton canvas? The heat from the food will melt plastic wrap, so I bought canvas.”

He took the canvas cloth from her. “For you, anything, Rosa. You’ve helped make my visit a really wonderful experience.” As she melted, he left the kitchen grinning.

“The old boy hasn’t lost his touch,” he said to himself.

Pamela and Drake arrived first. Scott was leaning against a tree, with the sole of his left foot flat against the tree trunk, when he looked up and saw her walking between the couple. Now, there was a woman with grace, charm, dignity, a good measure of femininity in all the right places and beauty to boot. He straightened up, but he stayed where he was. He’d seen that woman somewhere before. But where? Who was she?

As they approached, he went to greet them. “Pamela, Drake,” he said. “How are you?”

“Great,” they said in unison.

“Scott Galloway, this is Denise Miller, my best friend since crib days,” Pamela said.

“I’m glad to meet you,” he said earnestly.

“Me, too, Scott,” Denise said. “Pamela said you just returned from Lithuania. Are you glad to be home?”

“I’m happy to be with my friends, to have a steady supply of fresh produce and to soak up the sun,” he said.

“I haven’t been home yet because my place isn’t ready and my belongings haven’t arrived from Lithuania.” He fell into step with them as they headed toward the back patio and the barbecue.

“Is that what you missed most?” she asked.

Those were the only things he missed that he could talk about. “I missed other things, too—mainly opportunities to be just plain old Scott Galloway.”

Drake walked over toward them, munching on a chicken leg. Scott appreciated—and not for the first time—that he was six feet four inches tall, and equal to Drake and his brothers in stature. Drake dwarfed most men in looks and physique, but not him. And he hoped Denise Miller was well aware of that.

“How’s that barbecue?” he asked Drake, in an effort to stall for time by involving him in conversation. He was interested in Denise Miller, but wanted to go slowly, at least until he figured out why he was so sure he knew her from someplace.

Drake laughed. “It’s a delicious barbecue chicken leg. But if you’re not a leg man, the breasts look pretty good, too.”

“I think I’ll do my own investigation,” Denise said, and left the two of them to enjoy Drake’s joke.

Scott eyed Drake. “Is she annoyed?”

“No, but she’d rather I hadn’t said that. Seems she’d prefer to make a good impression on you, and that surprises me.”

“She didn’t seem particularly interested. Why are you surprised at her wanting to make a good impression?”

“Denise is not easily impressed, but you caught her eye before we saw you. And the closer we got, the more she liked what she saw. Trust me, man, I’m right.”

“She was interesting from afar, but the closer she got, the more interesting she became. Trust me.” They both laughed.

“This is a magnificent house, Drake. Judson said that you and your brothers built it. Russ is a heck of an architect,” said Scott.

“He is that, and his designs are becoming more creative. But, as an engineer, I appreciate his work even more.”

“If I ever build a house, I hope you brothers are still in the business.”

“Unless you plan to build it when you’re ready to retire, I don’t think you have much to worry about.”

“Thanks for the assurance, man. But it’s time I got my act together.”

“Yeah,” Drake said. “I thought I had to wait until I got my life exactly the way I wanted it, but Pamela’s clock was ticking, and she let me know it. I realized that I didn’t have to be a nationally recognized engineer in order to be happy. But I needed her for that.”

“I don’t regret the choices I’ve made, Drake,” said Scott. “I regret the sacrifices.”

“As long as you’re ready to deal with a relationship, it’s never too late.”

In those few minutes, Scott realized that of the Harrington brothers, Drake was his favorite. The man gave the appearance of being a corporate executive, but he was a down-to-earth guy who had his priorities in order, and he had a great sense of humor.

“How long have you and Pamela been married?”

“Close to two wonderful years. Smartest thing I ever did. Marriage is good. Try it,” he said with a grin.

“You’ll like it.”

“I hope so. I don’t have anyone in mind, but after two years in Vilnius without a companion, my antenna is up.”

Drake seemed to contemplate the statement. “I can’t imagine that that was easy. There must have been plenty of times you were lonely or just needed someone to talk to, and didn’t have anyone with whom to share your problems. It had to be troubling.”

“You nailed it on the head, Drake. In spite of all the people around to do whatever I said or asked, it was a lonely life.”

“You two seem to be hitting it off,” Heather said, as she approached them. “I brought you some lemonade. If you want anything stronger, it’s over there in that large wooden tub.”

“Thanks,” Scott said. “Where’d you get that wooden tub?”

“My dad got it from his grandmother,” said Heather.

“You must have made quite an impression on Denise. She’s asking questions about you.”

Scott sipped his lemonade. “Really? Tell her I’m perfect,” he said, trying to sound nonchalant. He couldn’t understand Drake’s sudden fit of laughter.

“I wonder if I was that scared of getting what I wanted,” Drake said, amused by Scott’s expression.

“As I look back, I realize how lucky I really was that Pamela ignored my foolishness.” He looked at Scott. “I met Adelle Smith and she isn’t in Denise Miller’s league by a long shot.”

“I get your message loud and clear,” added Scott.

Telford and Russ arrived along with their families.

“Excuse me,” Scott said to Drake and Heather when he saw Tara.

“You’ve gotten taller in the eighteen months since I last saw you,” Scott said to Tara with a wide smile. “How are you?”

“I’m fine, Mr. Galloway. I’m going to finish the school year with straight As.”

“That doesn’t surprise me. You’re as smart as you are pretty.” He looked at Telford, Tara’s stepfather, whose pride in his daughter shone in his eyes. “Tara is the most compelling advertisement for marriage that I can think of.”

“Thank you,” Telford said. “She’s always a delight.”

“What do they mean, Mummy?”

“Mr. Scott was congratulating your daddy on raising you properly.”

“Oh. I thought he said I was lovely.”

Scott suppressed a laugh. Tara was only nine years old, but already she was mature beyond her years.

The four of them walked around to the patio, where the barbecue grill, food and drinks were set up.

“It’s about time you got here,” Judson said. “Pamela and I want to eat. We’ve got pulled pork, barbecue chicken and baby back ribs, grilled new potatoes, zucchini, onions, asparagus and a green salad. Beer, wine and chilled vodka are over there.” He pointed to a shaded area. “Everybody for themselves.”

“Don’t we have to say grace, Uncle Judson?” Tara asked.

“Yes, we do,” Russ said. “I’ll say it. By the time you finish it, we’ll be ready to eat Christmas dinner.”

Tara giggled. “Mr. Scott, my uncle Russ doesn’t like the way I say grace. It really freaks him out.”

Scott noticed that Denise remained on the fringe of the group. He got two empty plates, forks and napkins, and went over to her and handed her one of each.

“I’m hungry, and I haven’t had any good barbecue in a couple of years. Will you join me?”

“Thanks. I was just waiting for everyone to start. Why has it been two years?”

“I’ve been in Vilnius, Lithuania. I only returned for Judson and Heather’s wedding, but I was in the States less than seventy-two hours. I was Judson’s best man.”

Denise appeared reflective for a moment. “So you’re close friends,” she said.

“Very much so, since I was five years old. He’s closer to me than my real brothers.”

“Really?”

“We went from kindergarten through college and law school together.” He took a pair of tongs and put some pulled pork on her plate. “Want some chicken or ribs?”

“Ribs. I love ribs, though I have to use yards of dental floss after I eat them. Where do you live, Scott?”

“Right now, I’m staying at the Willard in Washington. But my belongings should arrive from Vilnius next week. Then, I’ll either move into my condo in Baltimore or sell it and move to Washington, where I work.”

She accepted the plate of pulled pork, ribs and vegetables. “Thank you. I imagine you must have mixed feelings about moving.”

“Of course. I’ll hate not being close to my grandmother. She’s getting older.”

“Do you have family other than your brothers and your grandmother?”

“There’s my father. My grandmother helped him raise us after our mother died in a car crash almost twenty years ago. She’s very dear to me. Where do you live, Denise?” Scott said, deciding that it was time to move the focus to her.

“I have a house in Frederick and an apartment in Washington, and I divide my time between the two places.”

He could see that she was deftly avoiding any details, at least about herself, so he decided to be more direct. “I work for the State Department, Denise. What do you do?”

“I know you’re an ambassador, Scott. I’m a—a fundraiser.” Her brow creased in a frown. “You don’t remember me, do you?”

“Actually, I do. I believe I met you at a party, but I’m having trouble remembering which one.”

She lowered her gaze. “Don’t you remember seeing me at the party Judson gave for you when you were leaving for Lithuania? We weren’t introduced, but that’s where we met.”

He hoped that his eagerness and excitement in preparing for his diplomatic assignment explained what must have been a testosterone malfunction. “That send-off and having everyone address me as ‘Mr. Ambassador’ nearly overwhelmed me. Something about that party seems to nag at me, though.” He shrugged his shoulder. “My preference is for the simple life. So Denise, do you work in Washington?” he said, quickly changing the subject.

A slight smile didn’t quite make it to her eyes. “I love politics, but not that much.”

He wondered at her seeming reluctance to tell him where she worked. “As long as you raise money for good causes, I’d say that’s a good thing.” If she didn’t want to open up, he’d find out what he wanted to know some other way.

“Where do your folks live, Denise?” he said, figuring the innocuous question would help continue their conversation. He had to get used to her name, since he wasn’t sure that it really suited her. She had an almost aristocratic air about her that he didn’t especially like, and women like that weren’t usually named Denise, but rather something like Caroline, Amanda or Allison.

Maybe he’d been away from African-American women too long. He told himself to stop trying to figure her out, that if she was interested in him, she’d open up.

She hadn’t answered him, so he decided to change tactics.

“Would you have dinner with me?” he said.

She looked him in the eye. “When did you have in mind?”

The heat from her fiery brown eyes seared through him. But if she could eyeball him, he could certainly do the same. “Friday, and as many times as you’d like thereafter.”

“You’re a bold man.”

He gave a quick shrug of his shoulders. “I don’t remember ever getting anything or anywhere in life by being timid, Denise. It’s not my style.”

“I certainly never imagined you were a man who passively accepted whatever circumstances he encountered,” she replied candidly.

He stared at her, mulling over the situation. “Where will you be next Friday between five-thirty and seven?” She gave him her address in Frederick, Maryland. “I’ll be there at six-thirty in jacket and tie.” The brilliant smile that covered her face surged through him like an electrical charge. The woman was beautiful.

“I’m looking forward to Friday.”

“So am I,” he said truthfully, while hoping and praying that he wasn’t shooting himself in the foot.