A Compromising Affair (The Harringtons)

by Gwynne Forster

  He grinned and kissed her cheek. “Chicken! I knew you wouldn’t do it.”

  “What’ll we do for dinner?” she asked him. “I can make some smoked-salmon sandwiches.”

  “We’ll go out.”

  “I’m not dressed for a fancy restaurant, and you’re wearing a business suit and a tie.”

  “Tell you what. I’ll take off my jacket and tie, and let’s go to Danny’s and have barbecue and beer.”

  “I’d love it. I love barbecue, and I haven’t had any since that get-together.”

  After parking in front of Danny’s, he removed his jacket, threw it across his arm, grabbed her hand and walked her to the quaint, wood-paneled restaurant. Artificial logs crackled in the huge fireplace despite the summer heat, while air-conditioning guaranteed that patrons wished they had worn coats. They sat at a table facing a small stream, and the dull flicker of the single candle on their table made him look like a dashing hero out of the Arabian Nights.

  She voiced her thoughts. “With this candle flickering against your skin, you’re something out of a dream world.”

  “Thanks,” he said. “I was thinking that this candle makes you look like a goddess. Not that you need the help of a candle for that. You poleaxed my dad.”

  “Me? Don’t make jokes. Ask him how many women have been besotted with him, and I’ll bet he’ll tell you he can’t count them. How old is he?” she asked as she softly bit her bottom lip. “Dad’s fifty-seven.”

  “Did he remarry?”

  “No. He said he could never replace Mom.”

  “What a pity. He loved her.”

  Scott looked into the distance, and from the working of his jaw, she knew he was struggling for control.

  “Oh, yes. When I look back on those years, I know they shared a deep and wonderful love. I want that for myself.”

  She looked him in the eye. “If you can give it, you will definitely receive it.”

  “What’ll it be tonight, folks?” the waitress said, and he wasn’t sure he welcomed the interruption. Denise had just revealed something important, and he would have to wait to ask her about it.

  “We’ve got every kind of barbecue you can imagine,” the waitress continued, oblivious to the tension around her. “But I recommend the pulled pork, baby back ribs or the chicken. ’Course, if you’re starved, you can order a bit of all three. You can have collards, corn bread, sweet potatoes or macaroni and cheese”

  Denise didn’t look at the menu. “I’ll have ribs, pulled pork, collards and corn bread.”

  “No mac and cheese?” the waitress urged. “It’s good.”

  Denise smiled and shook her head. She was eating three times as many calories as she normally did in one meal.

  “I’ll have the same and draft beer,” Scott said. “What do you want to drink, Denise?”

  “I’ll have a beer, too. Wine doesn’t go with barbecue. You’re going to drink beer and drive?”

  “With all the fat I’m consuming, one glass of beer isn’t going to hurt.”

  The waitress returned with the beer. Scott took a sip, put the glass down, leaned back in his chair and looked at her. “You said a lot to me on the phone this evening. I’m with you right now because I believed you meant it. Are you going away with me next Friday? Before you answer, this is my last time to ask…unless you have a special reason to say no.”

  She looked him in the eye. “I’ll go with you wherever you want me to. Just tell me the temperature so I’ll know how to dress.”

  He leaned forward. “Why the sudden change?”

  “Because I’ve been so miserable without you, and because I now realize how much I need you.”

  “And you trust me to take care of you in every way?”

  “Yes.” The word slipped out of her mouth of its own volition. “I was foolish, Scott, and I finally realized that I would be taking no more of a chance than you would be. I don’t want to live in that cocoon any longer.”

  He reached across the table and took both of her hands. “I care a lot for you. I’m only asking for a chance to teach you to care for me.”

  She squeezed his fingers. “I don’t think that will cause you much of a sweat.”

  Chapter 5

  Denise admitted to herself that she’d learned a hard lesson the previous night: when Scott said something, he meant it. She stopped trying to guess why he hadn’t taken her to bed, considering how badly he wanted her. If she had opened her front door wearing a see-through negligee she would have been pushing too hard, and it would have been embarrassing for both of them. He would have teased her about it. They’d spent a pleasant evening together, and had parted on good terms, and she was glad for it.

  She smelled bacon frying and made a mental note to ask Priscilla why she always served bacon for breakfast on Mondays. Her foot had barely touched the top stair when her landline rang.

  “Hello. Denise speak— Mom! Hi. How are you?”

  “I’m fine, darling. What about you? We should have lunch together,” Congresswoman Katherine Miller said to her daughter.

  “I’d like that, but I’ll be away on business for Second Chance starting tomorrow, and I’m going out of town this coming weekend. But I’ll happily take a rain check.”

  “Denise, I’m very concerned about something that Pamela Harrington told me. She said that you’re pushing a wonderful man out of your life, and that you won’t listen to her. What’s going on?”

  “Oh, why did she bring you into this? You have enough things to think about. His name is Scott Galloway.”

  “You don’t mean Ambassador Galloway, do you?”

  “Yes. Do you know him?”

  “I’m a member of the Committee on Foreign Relations. Of course I know who he is. He did a great job as ambassador to Lithuania, and I expect we’ll hear a lot more from him. The man’s got more than talent and finesse, too. Unless he’s a serial killer, you’ve got to be out of your mind. I’m a good twenty-five years older than he is, but if I wasn’t happily married, I’d give him a lot to think about.”

  “Mom!”

  “I would. He’s a fine man with looks to die for. Of course, he could be arrogant and conceited, but he seemed just the opposite when he appeared before the committee.” Her voice softened, and she became the nurturing mother who never failed to comfort Denise.

  “What’s the problem with him, dear? Maybe I can help.”

  “It isn’t him, Mom. It’s me. He’s thoughtful, kind, tender and caring. But until now, I haven’t been able to let the past go and trust him.”

  “Are you sure you’ve let go of the past?”

  “I hope so. I’ll find out this weekend.”

  “You’re going away with him, I see.”

  “Uh…yes.”

  “You’ve been reliving those horrible months for twelve years. Have you told him about it?”

  “I don’t know if I can.”

  “You have to tell him. I’m sorry we’re having this conversation over the phone, darling. If you can’t trust him with your deepest, darkest secret, if you think he won’t love you unless you’re perfect, I don’t see how there can be deep, abiding love between you.”

  “But maybe I can’t give him what he needs, Mom.”

  “Let him be the judge of that. Open up and let him see you as you are. If you need him, tell him. A man wants to know that a woman needs him above all else, including her family. He needs to know that. A man stands prouder and taller when his woman needs him and when he knows he satisfies her in bed. That’s the measure of a man. If you’re not prepared to give everything, don’t get involved with him.”

  “Mom, did Daddy make love to you before you married?” Denise asked, since her mother was being so candid.

  “Wh-what? Well, yes, he did. And after that, I couldn’t have gotten rid of him if I’d wanted to. I hope that answers your question.”

  “It definitely does. If things don’t work out like that for me, you and I are going to have a talk.”


  “All right, but first, make certain that you answer truthfully every question that he asks you, and let him lead you. If you do that, you won’t have any questions for me.”

  “I’m so glad you called, Mom. Right now, I feel great. We saw each other at a friend’s barbecue, and it was hot from that minute on. I thought it was all about sex, but he played it cool.”

  “I see,” said her mother. “It was all about sex for you, but not for him. You listen to me. A man can want you because he needs sex. But if he cares for you, he tries to lay the foundation for a good relationship. That man cares for you, and he cares a lot.”

  “And I care for him, too.”

  Then remember that he’s much more precious than diamonds. I’ve got to get to work. Love you.”

  “I love you, too, Mom. Bye.”

  Fresh from the board meeting of Second Chance, the foundation that she was president and founder of, Denise hurried home and packed quickly in preparation for her weekend with Scott. “I have no idea where he’s taking me, so I’d better bring my passport just in case.” After some indecision, she packed a pair of white pants, a couple of long peasant skirts good for day and evening, an assortment of tops, three bikinis, a short sexy red dress for evening and a form-fitting evening gown, along with accessories to complement her outfits. She remembered to include supplies of cheese sticks and gingersnaps. I assume he’s taking me someplace where it’s warm, since he said to bring my bathing suit, she thought. But the one thing she couldn’t figure out was what to wear on the plane, so she phoned him.

  “Hi, honey. What’s the temperature like where you’re taking me? I’m not sure what to wear.”

  “Do you know this is the first time you’ve called me ‘honey’ or ‘sweetheart’ or any term of endearment? I’m flabbergasted.”

  “Well, you shouldn’t be. I think of you that way all the time.”

  “Really?”

  She dropped the bra she’d been holding onto the bed. “Are you serious? I wasn’t aware of that. Oh, you should see what my dreams are like. You’d know that you’re the sexiest man anywhere.”

  “I sure wish you’d remember about some of those dreams when I’m around,” he said dryly. “A guy likes sweet talk, too.”

  “Please tell me what the weather’s going to be like when we get where we’re going.”

  “It’ll be warm so wear something lightweight like linen, cotton—”

  “Silk?” she interrupted.

  “Sure, if it has short sleeves.”

  “Thanks. See you in two hours.”

  “Right on. Bye, sweetheart.”

  “Bye, love,” she said and hung up. She pressed her short-sleeve pale green linen suit and her white handkerchief-linen blouse, polished her patent-leather sandals and headed for the bathroom, singing as she got in the shower. Half an hour later, she was ready. She paced from one end of her living room to the other, from one window to another, counting the minutes until he arrived. Finally, her nerves frayed, she sat down at the piano. The music of Chopin was guaranteed to calm her down, and soon she was lost in the composer’s music. By the time she finished, the doorbell was ringing. She shook herself out of her reverie—that’s what it was—pushed back the bench and raced to the door. “Hi. I’m sorry. I was trying to make the time pass. How long have you been ringing?”

  “Only a minute or two. What a pianist you are! I didn’t hear all of it, but I’d love for you to play for me sometime. Are these all of your bags?” He leaned down, brushed her lips with his and took a step back.

  “You think I’ll need more?”

  “Heavens, no,” he said. “I’m surprised you didn’t recognize my sense of humor. Wait here while I take these to the car.” She glanced out the window and saw a limousine driver coming up her walk. The driver took the bags from him and put them in the trunk.

  “I want to be sure all of your windows and doors are secure.” He checked them, and quickly came downstairs once he was finished. He kissed her, as both of them walked out of the house, and locked the door.

  Almost as soon as the driver pulled away from the curb, he slapped his forehead. “My goodness, I didn’t say goodbye to Priscilla.”

  “Don’t worry, she’s off today.” His concern for her housekeeper further endeared him to her. “Since she met you and learned that you like cheese sticks, I always have a supply of them.”

  To her amazement, he rested his head on her shoulder and closed his eyes. “Woman after my own heart.”

  “Who? Priscilla or me?”

  He eased an arm across her and snuggled closer. “Woman, you’re queen of my heart.” She stroked his hair, ran her fingers through it and smoothed the short curls back into place. “Be careful,” he warned. “I spoil easily, and after two years of behaving as if I were invincible to feminine charms, I need all the spoiling I can get.”

  Twenty minutes later, having made it through weekend rush-hour traffic, the limousine parked at Ronald Reagan Washington National Airport. She leaned over and kissed his forehead. “Wake up, sleepyhead, we’re at the airport.”

  He opened his eyes and gazed at her, revealing nothing of his feelings. He got out of the car, helped her out and then helped the driver with their bags.

  “Do you want a porter, sir?” the driver asked him.

  “Yes, of course. Thank you for such a pleasant ride.” She didn’t see what he handed the driver, but the man’s raised eyebrows and wide smile told her that Scott had tipped him generously.

  After checking in and going through security, he took her to the first-class lounge and sat with her near the window. “I love to see the planes take off,” he said. “It’s a joy that has survived my childhood. I’m going to have a vodka comet, what would you like?”

  “What’s a vodka comet?”

  “Vodka over crushed ice and a twist of lime.”

  “Hmm. I’ll have the same.”

  He leaned in and grasped both of her hands. “How is it that you have yet to ask me where I’m taking you?”

  “I know you want me to be happy, and I will be no matter where you take me. So, what’s important is that I’m with you, that we’ll be someplace together.”

  He took a long sip of his drink. “You trust me so much?” The eagerness in his voice told her how important it was to him.

  “Yes. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be here.”

  “You have no misgivings?” He searched her face, but she continued to look him in the eye, satisfied and glad that she’d dispelled her reservations about him and decided to give their relationship a chance. “None.”

  “You won’t be sorry. I won’t let you be sorry.” His gaze fastened on her mouth while he subconsciously rimmed his lips with his tongue. Her breathing shortened almost to a pant, and he squeezed her fingers.

  “Damn! I’d give anything if we were somewhere private right now.”

  In hopes of reducing the tension, she tweaked his ear, but for her effort, what seemed like sparks leaped into his eyes, reflecting such blatant need.

  “It’s all right, hon. You’ve taught me the wisdom of letting…uh…things unfold naturally.”

  Scott knew he’d better get away quickly. He patted her knee, got up and walked around to the other side of the lounge. He walked over to the prepared food, got two plates and filled them, then got two large napkins and went back to her.

  “I figured we’d be safer eating rather than drinking,” he said, mostly in jest, and handed her a plate and a napkin. They’d barely finished eating when first-class boarding was announced.

  Once they’d settled into their seats, the flight attendant arrived with champagne. Denise looked at him. He took the drinks, handed one to her and raised his glass.

  “To the most wonderful woman!”

  She grinned, but he didn’t mind. Her smile and her joy were what he wanted. “Why are you smiling?” he asked.

  “Because I’m getting to know me, and I realize that my public and private personalities differ. I’ve de
cided to accept that and to enjoy both of them.”

  The champagne hit the back of his throat before he was ready, and he broke into a coughing fit. “Are you all right, Scott?”

  “May I help, ma’am?” the flight attendant asked and gave Scott a hard slap on his back.

  Scott straightened up. “Thanks, man.”

  “No problem,” the steward said. “It isn’t often that I get to hit a passenger,” he said jokingly. The man was back seconds later with a small bottle of cognac and gave it to Scott.

  Scott winked at the man. “This is good stuff. If I find myself choking again, will I get another bottle?”

  “I try to please, sir,” the steward said, embarrassed.

  “You have a wicked sense of humor,” Denise said to Scott.

  “I’d probably be just as fine if he hadn’t hit me that hard.” He put an arm around her shoulder. “I’m happy, Denise. And if you level with me, I’ll always be that way, too. Don’t ever tell me what you think I want to hear. I want to know the truth. Our relationship is important to me, and if there’s anything wrong, anything at all, I’ll fix it. Do you understand what I’m saying? To begin with, I got adjoining rooms with a door that locks in between. If you don’t like that, tell me right now, and I’ll change it.”

  “I’m happy, too, Scott. I feel as if I’m in some special, wonderful world.” She leaned on his shoulder. “I may look and act sophisticated, but I’m not, and you…you should stop thinking that I am.”

  He stroked her shoulder and then tugged her closer to him. “We’ll talk, sweetheart. I want you to tell me whatever you think I ought to know. If you don’t want to give me details, that’s okay. I’ll get the message. If we’re truthful with each other, we can’t lose.”

  The waiter offered hors d’oeuvres, cocktails and non-alcoholic beverages. Scott figured that was as good a time as any to get off the subject of whatever she felt uneasy about. They needed to talk in a more intimate environment. “This guy is trying to get me buzzed before we reach cruising altitude,” he said loud enough for the steward to hear.