by Donna Hill
“Uh, one of the most powerful senators in the United States.”
Preston threw him a look. Paul shrugged.
“So you slept with her to stick it to her father—no pun intended—and now you’re left with the morning-after blues.”
Preston snorted and started pacing again. He stopped and turned to Paul. “I ran into Charlotte the other night, and she started leaving messages on my house phone.”
“Now that is a problem—for you. Told you to change your number a long time ago. Charlotte is only going to mess up your head again.”
“She asked to see me.”
Now Paul got up, stood toe to toe with Preston. “Don’t even think about it, man.”
“She’s engaged.”
“So what. She was engaged to you, too. It means nothing to her. She’s poison.”
“I agreed to meet her.”
Paul slapped his forehead. “What!”
“She called right after I talked to Lee Ann this morning. I was pissed and…”
“And your ego decided to be in charge since you obviously weren’t thinking clearly enough with your little head. Hey—” he threw up his hands “—it’s not a problem. Don’t show up. Simple.”
Preston looked away.
“You’re not thinking of going.”
“Just drinks.”
“Right. Nothing with Charlotte is just anything. She is Ms. Agenda. And you’re it.” He shook his head in disgust and frustration. He ran his hand across his inky waves. “What about Lee Ann? I mean it might be kind of rough with Papa Lawson…but it sounds like you could really care about her…that you do care about her.”
Preston’s jaw clenched. “She said what she had to say.”
“Did it occur to you that she wanted you to say something?”
“I did. I asked her if she got home all right.”
“You know what your problem is?”
“I’m sure you’re going to tell me.”
Paul pointed a finger at him. “You are so used to sex with no commitment after the fiasco with Charlotte that you don’t know how to handle a potentially good thing when it’s sitting on your bed.”
Preston frowned. “I gotta go.”
Paul knew Preston sometimes better than he knew himself. His pat “gotta go” line was a signal that he didn’t have the answer to a very legitimate question. In other words, Preston was done talking. He picked up his racquet and wrapped his towel around his neck. They walked out together. “When are you heading back up to the capital?”
“In the morning.”
“I’ll be up there when the voting begins—with the film crew. I hope you’ll provide a few sound bites, Senator,” he joked.
“I’ll think about it. Let me know when you get into town.”
“Sure.”
They walked into the showers.
Standing under the beating water, Preston thought about Paul’s warning while he lathered. Yeah, Charlotte was trouble. She’d ripped him apart, and for a long time, he never thought he would recover. He’d grown bitter and distant. Commitment was out of the question for him. So he’d channeled all of his energies—good and bad—into building his career, into winning. And with time, the anger began to fade and the wound wasn’t quite as deep, and he could look at women again as more than sexual objects. He’d started to get his humanity back. Meeting Lee Ann and feeling that old stir again was exciting and scary. There was still that part of him that didn’t trust his feelings, didn’t trust women. Yet, Lee Ann seemed different, and from the moment they met, he couldn’t stop thinking about her, wanting her. Then last night…a shiver of desire ran through him and his penis jerked in response.
He heard the water go off in the stall next to him. Moments later, Paul called out, “I have a meeting at the studio. Gotta run. I’ll catch up with you later.”
“Yeah. Later.” Preston took his time finishing up his shower and then decided to spend twenty minutes in the steam room to get out the last kinks of tension.
When he emerged from the sports club he did feel better, clearheaded and back in control of his body. He strode across the parking lot to his SUV, deactivated the alarm and was about to step inside when his cell phone rang. It was a call that was being forwarded from his home phone, one of the few features he used but came in handy when he was away from home for long periods of time. He’d just reset it that morning.
“Hello?”
“Is this a bad time?”
The voice lifted the fine hairs on the back of his neck. “A bad time for what, Charlotte?”
“To meet. I’ve been making myself crazy thinking about seeing you later. I was hoping that you were free.”
Typical Charlotte. At the drop of a dime, she wanted what she wanted. All of Paul’s warnings rang in his head, that Sunday afternoon years earlier, the diamond that sparkled on her finger, Lee Ann…. “Listen, about later, it’s not cool. I can’t meet you.”
“What, but you said—”
“I don’t want to see you, Charlotte. It was a mistake even talking to you.”
“I know why you don’t want to see me,” she said in a rush, “because you still have feelings for me, just like I do for you. You remember how it was between us. The passion that we had for each other. I know you remember, but you think I’m going to hurt you again. I swear to you, I won’t. Just give me another chance, Press, please.”
“I gotta go.” He disconnected the call even as he heard her say his name. He glanced around for a moment, looked down at the phone, almost expecting it to ring again. Finally, he got up in his ride and drove off.
“Thanks for meeting me, Rafe,” Lee Ann said as they found seats in the back of the Pompei Bistro.
“Anything for you.” He set down his tray, took a napkin and dabbed at his forehead. He glanced at his sister from beneath his sweeping dark lashes. Their crazy family had her in knots. The tight line between her eyes would need a chisel to carve it away. “Talk to Daddy?” He picked up half of his shrimp po’boy sandwich and took a big juicy bite. He knew that she must have; if not Branford Lawson would have been on the first plane back from DC.
“He talked to me is more like it.”
“Hmm, know what that’s like.”
She pushed her salad around on her plate then looked across at her brother and oddly her best friend. As much as he was known for his wild and carefree ways, Rafe was caring and sensitive, and he understood her and he had good common sense, especially about life and relationships—his specialty. But most of all, she could trust him to listen and not judge her, whether he agreed with her or not.
“I wasn’t thinking,” she finally said.
Rafe chewed and waited.
“He’s just so… He makes me feel things. Things I’d forgotten about.” She put her fork down and looked at him. “Do you know what I mean?”
“Absolutely. Happens to me all the time.”
“Be serious!”
“I am.” He put his sandwich down and wiped his mouth. He leaned forward. “Look, ever since Mama died, you’ve stepped into her shoes. All you do is work and take care of the family. We…kind of expect that from you. But the truth is we’re all grown, Lee, and as long as you feel like no one can handle anything but you…well, we let you handle it. And that goes for the old man, too.” He reached for his iced tea and wished he had a shot of bourbon to splash in it. “So how do you feel about this guy?”
“I like him…a lot.”
He watched the rainbow of expressions that moved across her face. “So what are you gonna do about it?”
She played with her food some more. “I guess I should call him. He must think I’m crazy for acting the way I did. Running out of there like my panties were on fire.”
“They probably were.”
She tossed her napkin at him, which he snatched in midair. “Very funny.” She stared at her plate then focused on her brother, who was making quick work of his sandwich.
Rafe chuckled and chewed. �
��Men are used to women acting crazy. That’s half the fun.”
She studied her food for a minute, debating on how to phrase what she wanted to say. “I know you’re a very busy man with the ladies and I was wondering if you could tell me the best place to get some flavored condoms,” she blurted out in a hot whisper. “And maybe some ribbed ones.”
Rafe choked, reached for his glass of iced tea and took a long swallow, gagging in the process. Coughing and wiping his eyes, he got himself together and looked at Lee Ann through watery eyes. “Are you kidding me?” He looked around. “Am I being punked?”
She stared right at him. “Nope.” It took all she had not to burst out laughing. In all her years, it was truly the rare occasion that her big brother got flustered.
“Lee Ann…you’re my sister for chrissake.” If he could have turned red he would have.
“Yes, and you’re my best friend and a man. You know what men like or what you like. If I can’t ask you…”
He blew out a long breath and signaled for the waitress. “Can we have the check, please?”
“What are you doing?”
“Come on,” he said, throwing money on the table.
“Where are we going?”
He took her by the hand and tugged her out of her seat. “Let’s go. You want to get all up in my sex life.” He looked down at her and winked. “I’ll take you to one of my special places.”
She snatched up her purse and stumbled out behind him.
Nearly two hours later they were sitting in his car. Lee Ann had a discrete little brown shopping bag, filled with an assortment of condoms in every flavor of the rainbow, along with massage oils, edible undies and dusting powder.
“How do you know about…that store?” she asked, looking into her bag of goodies.
“Stumbled on it a few years ago. From the outside you would never know. It’s real classy.”
She nodded and looked at him with a grin.
He started up the engine.
“Rafe…”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks.”
He turned to her and patted her thigh. “Give the man a call. Tell the crew to mind their own business. Daddy, too. They aren’t gonna like it, but they’ll get over it. Live your life, cher. Do that for me? Mama would have wanted you to.”
Her throat tightened. She wished that her mother was still there, that she could rest her head on her lap and tell her all the things that were going on in her head and in her heart. She swallowed and willed herself not to cry.
“But I’m telling you. If he hurts you, he’s gonna have me to deal with.” He hit the gas and pulled off.
Lee Ann glanced at her brother and never loved him more.
Preston opened the door to his house after taking Rocky for his evening walk. He’d come through that door hundreds of times but never had it felt so empty inside.
He hung up Rocky’s leash and went to turn on the news. He had a 9:00 a.m. flight and he needed to pack, but what he wanted to do was call Lee Ann and find out what the hell went wrong. He stretched out on the couch. Women.
Rachel Maddow was interviewing the embattled president of the RNC. Preston tried to concentrate but his thoughts kept wandering back to his night with Lee Ann. Tomorrow he would see her father, and he wasn’t up for any kind of confrontation. But it seemed like Senator Lawson always got his wish anyway. That fact alone punched up his ticked-off meter. He aimed the remote at the television and shut it off, threw his legs over the side and pushed up.
Being a first-term senator, he didn’t have one of the fancier apartments in the nation’s capital but it was functional and comfortable. He’d enjoyed being in DC at the heart of the nation in the months that he’d been in office. This time he was returning with a different kind of agenda—work until he worked Lee Ann out of his head.
He opened his bedroom door, and he could almost see her curled beneath the sheets.
“Damn it.” He kicked at the door, slamming it against the wall. He stalked over to his closet and pulled out his traveling bag, went to his dresser, pulled open drawers and started tossing things in the bag, not caring what was winding up in the growing pile. He took his shaving kit from the dresser drawer and tossed it in the bag where it landed softly on a mound of T-shirts and at least two dozen pairs of socks. What was he doing? He had suits and shirts at his DC apartment and workout clothes, shoes and underwear. He looked at the haphazard contents of his bag and groaned at his own stupidity.
He blew out a breath of frustration and began picking through the items when Rocky started barking at the ringing doorbell. He checked his watch. It must be his house sitter, Merna, who’d come for the keys. He grabbed the extra set from the top of the dresser and trotted downstairs. He pulled open the door.
“Hi.”
“What are you doing here?”
Chapter 7
“You coming in?” Lee Ann asked when they came to a stop on the driveway of the Lawson mansion.
“Not tonight, cher. I have a lovely lady waiting for the pleasure of my company.”
Lee Ann shook her head and giggled. “You are a hot mess.”
“So they tell me.” He leaned over and kissed her cheek. “I’ll call you.”
She opened her door and then looked at him over her shoulder. “Thanks again.”
“You just do like I said—live your life. And give that man a call.”
She nodded. “I will.” She shut the door, and he backed out.
“What you need is your own place,” he called out from the window before he roared away.
Lee Ann walked up the steps to the home she’d lived in since she was born. The history of the Lawson home was long and rich, filled with old wives’ tales and folklore. Like many of the big homes in Louisiana, this was once a plantation, the grounds dotted with slaves; the small houses in the back of the property that were now used for storage were once slave cabins. After the Emancipation, the slaves of the house didn’t leave the only land that they knew. The owner, Hezikiah Lawson, who’d fallen in love with Mary, one of his slaves, turned over his land and all of his money to her and their children upon his death. Mary had a long and hard struggle fighting the law and the other landowners to hold on to her property and her children’s rightful inheritance, but she did. Rumor had it that she sat on the porch every night with a shotgun across her lap and would shoot anyone who tried to step onto her property. The freed slaves admired and respected Mary and continued to work the land, making Mary and her family very wealthy. From 1872 until now the house had been handed down generation after generation. At least that’s how the story was told.
Lee Ann turned the knob and opened the door. She looked around at the exquisite interior, the space that guests always oohed and aahed over but which she thought of as the hallway. The marble floors were where she’d roller-skated with Rafe, and they were always sent to sit in the kitchen with the cook as punishment. Dom and Desi would slide down the winding banister every morning as their father bellowed for them to stop.
Inwardly she smiled. This was home. She’d never thought much about living anyplace else. When Rafe moved out and bought a small house on the other side of town, you would have thought that it was the apocalypse the way their father carried on. Every chance he got, he reminded Rafe how he was breaking up the family. It was only after much soothing and gentle but firm admonishment from her mother that Branford finally relented, albeit reluctantly. Louisa, her mother, was the only one who could get through to her father once he got something in his head. Now that responsibility had fallen on her shoulders.
Lee Ann sighed and started up the stairs. Rafe still kept his room here at the house—almost as a peace offering—but he’d wanted his freedom, and Rafe was not the type to be denied what he wanted.
Lee Ann opened her bedroom door, walked over to the window and pulled back the curtains. A place of her own. It wasn’t something she’d thought much about, but after last night’s fiasco with her family and Rafe put
ting the “flee the coop” bug in her ear… She let the curtain fall back in place.
What would it be like to bring Preston to her place? She took off her shoes and put them inside the closet, unbuttoned her top and slipped it off.
The downstairs door slammed shut, and the chattering of her sisters floated upstairs, coming closer. She took a lightweight robe from the closet and put it on then stepped out of her skirt. With any luck they would take the hint and walk past her closed door.
The voices came to a stop in front of her door. Lee Ann waited. And then a white envelope was slipped under the door, like something out of a spy movie. She went over and picked up the envelope, flipped it over and opened it. She took out the single piece of handwritten paper.
Dear Sis,
We’re really sorry. Don’t be mad. We were worried. It was weird not having you here and kind of scary. So whenever you forgive us we want to hear all about him!
Love
D & D
Lee Ann refolded the letter and put it back in the envelope. She pressed it to her chest and smiled, placing it on the top of her dresser. Any other time she would have been wallowing in guilt and looking for ways to make it up to everyone, soothe their ruffled feathers. She raised her chin just a bit higher. She had a call to make. Let them sweat it out a little longer.
“I asked you what you were doing here, Charlotte.”
“You wouldn’t come to me. You left me no choice.” She sucked on her glossy bottom lip. “Are we going to stand here and discuss our business for your neighbors, or are you going to let me in?”
“We don’t have any business.”
“I think we do.”
“Goodbye, Charlotte.” He tried to push the door closed.
“What if I told you I could make sure you got the funding you needed to rebuild your district and get the money for schools?”
His brow wrinkled. “What are you talking about?”
She watched him hesitate. “You’d be the golden boy,” she said, pressing home her point. “You’d be able to pull off what the old dogs haven’t been able to do in years.”
