Indiscretions

by Lori Borrill

  “It’s not on the top of my list of things to do, no.”

  The shrill in his voice kicked up a notch. “You mean you haven’t spoken to your father?” Her father? “Why would I talk to my dad?”

  He huffed loudly. “Rachel, all hell’s broken loose. Where have you been for the past three hours?”

  “Working.”

  “Well, while you’ve been making beds, the press has been spreading the news that you’re sleeping with Marc Strauss. They’ve even got a front-page picture of the two of you kissing on some balcony in the woods.”

  She jumped to her feet. “What?!”

  “Even the mainstream media’s picked up the story. Someone from the Times called your parole officer asking for a comment. They’re questioning whether you’ve really been cleaning rooms up there, asking if they plan to investigate. It’s a mess.” He paused and took a breath. “I really don’t need any more headaches right now. Tyler’s threatening to take a job in Manhattan if I don’t move in with him and start getting serious about our relationship. I’ve got deliveries that have gone missing, the imported tile I’ve waited months for is all wrong…”

  Stefan’s voice trailed from her consciousness as she tried to get a grip on the situation. The press found out about her and Marc? How could anyone have known? They’d been so careful. And she knew for a fact no one had followed them up to the cabin. How could anyone have come up with photos? They hadn’t run into a soul.

  She bit her lip and wracked her brain for answers. Had someone gotten wind of their plans? Was it possible Brett or Margaret had opened their mouths and told someone?

  “Are you there?”

  She blinked and absently answered, “Yeah.”

  “Rachel, you’re scaring me. For God’s sake, this isn’t true, is it? These pictures are just doctored-up photos, right?”

  “I…” She couldn’t make the words come out of her mouth.

  “Oh, heaven help me. It’s true, isn’t it? You’re sleeping with Marc Strauss.”

  “That’s…that’s not anyone’s business,” she attempted, knowing what a waste of breath that statement was. Her life was everyone’s business, like it or not.

  The panic left Stefan’s voice, replaced by a gravity that left her even more unsettled. “You need to call your father.”

  She tried to laugh it off. “It’s a stupid tabloid smear. We don’t have to grace it with a response.”

  “You aren’t listening. Your parole officer is asking questions. This isn’t good, Rachel. You need to call Richard. He’s been trying to get hold of you for over an hour now. Call him!”

  “Fine.” She disconnected the call and reluctantly dialed her father’s number. Her fingers trembled and her heart hammered in her chest, though she didn’t know why. She hadn’t done anything wrong. So what if she and Marc were having an affair. That had nothing to do with the work she’d done here. And as the phone rang in her ear, she tried to drum up offense that people actually doubted that. It wasn’t right. And what she did in her off hours wasn’t anyone’s business. But when she heard the click and her father’s voice, her upper hand dissolved under the familiarity of the situation.

  Another day, another screwup by Daddy’s little girl.

  “Rachel?”

  “Hi, Dad. I just talked to Stefan.”

  His long exhale took the strength from her knees and she lowered to the couch.

  “So you’ve heard. What do you have to say about this, Rachel?”

  “I…” Her jaw bobbed, her throat tightening to the point where it was difficult to form words. “I haven’t done anything wrong. My relationship with Marc is—”

  “Oh, for chrissakes, Rachel. When are these kinds of antics going to end?”

  She opened her mouth to defend herself then realized it was futile. What was he supposed to think? The day after he’d dropped her off at the resort she’d made a move on Marc, and her intentions hadn’t been honorable. She’d pretty much spent the past ten years acting childish and irresponsible. How was he to know that she’d changed?

  “Your parole officer is waiting for a statement, and when I tell her the truth, she’ll send an investigator up there.”

  “I’ve done everything I’m supposed to do. Plenty of people will attest to that.”

  “I certainly hope so, or we’ve got another legal battle on our hands. They could throw you in jail.”

  “They won’t.”

  He took a long breath and sighed. “I’m sending a car. Pack up and be ready to go.”

  “You can’t! I’ve got three more days.”

  “Not now, you don’t. We’ve got a mess to straighten out, and it starts with getting you out of that little love nest you’ve created up there.”

  She clenched her teeth and swallowed down the sting in that comment. It hurt to hear her father cheapen what she’d found with Marc, and it infuriated her to be spoken to like a child. But she knew a decade of foolish behavior wasn’t going to be washed away overnight, and if she wanted to prove that she’d matured through this experience, throwing a tantrum wasn’t the way to do it.

  “Be ready to go this evening. The car will be there in a few hours.”

  “But—”

  He clicked off the phone before she could say anything more, leaving her standing in her suite feeling as though her entire life had been taken from her. Old feelings of helplessness tried to take over, but she tamped them down, not willing to let even this setback throw her in a tailspin. This was only a bump in the road, a minor sidetrack in her pursuit of happiness. Besides, more important than her father and the court right now was getting to Marc before he found out about this on his own.

  Tossing her cell phone on the couch, she headed for his office, using the walk to rehearse what she’d say when she found him. She had no idea how he’d respond to being thrown in the spotlight, and as she rushed across the grounds toward the main building, she realized that if they were to have a future together, he’d need to get used to publicity. It wasn’t something she could make go away. She only hoped he had the temperament for it.

  But when she reached his office and found him standing behind his desk, that hope was all but shattered. It only took one glimpse in those stormy gray eyes to see he’d already heard and that he wasn’t taking it well.

  Her eager steps slowed until her feet stopped moving altogether, held in place by fear as she searched his expression for something that might take her worries away.

  “You heard,” she uttered.

  “I’ve been getting nonstop phone calls all afternoon.”

  And as if to underscore that statement, his phone rang again. Instead of answering it, he moved to close the door behind her.

  She didn’t like the stony expression on his face. It spoke of disgust and aggravation and, worst of all, regret. Marc was such a professional when it came to his job, she should have expected this. She only hoped she could do something to fix it.

  “I’m sorry,” she said.

  He responded by pressing his lips into a line and moving back to his desk, and her heart sank at his lack of reassurance. So much for “No big deal,” or, “It’s not your fault.” Everything about him said it was a big deal, and as for blame, well, that was still on the table.

  “I don’t understand. We were so careful. How could anyone have found out?” she asked, needing to keep the words flowing. The chill exuding from Marc threatened to freeze her up completely.

  He smiled sourly. “I can tell you that much. It was Margaret, Brett’s latest girlfriend. Apparently, she wasn’t the ad executive she’d said she was.”

  “Margaret?!”

  “Brett figured it out when he saw the photos at the cabin. She’d pressed him about where it was, then left the day after we got back. And just to be sure, he checked the credit card she used for the room. It belonged to one of the editors at the National Star.”

  A heavy wave of nausea and anger welled up her throat, but she worked to keep it in check.<
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  “It’s not the end of the world,” Rachel assured him. “We haven’t done anything wrong.”

  He looked at her as though she’d just made a joke. “It’s a disaster, Rachel. I’ve got a board member freaking out over this, calling all the other board members and demanding my resignation.”

  “You can’t be serious!”

  The phone rang again and this time he snapped the button to send it to voice mail. “This is very serious. They’re claiming I acted un-professionally, that I’ve jeopardized the reputation of the resort by creating this scandal. And the worst thing about it is I can’t argue with a single accusation. I let attraction get the best of me and it’s put the resort in a bad light. Phil Arnall is demanding I step down as a managing partner, and he’s already got two more board members on the verge of agreeing with him.”

  “You can’t possibly lose your job over this.”

  He shot her an angry look that pushed her back a step. “This is the real world, Rachel, where actions have consequences. Of course, I can lose my job over this.” He clenched his teeth and spoke with a growl. “I don’t own this place. I don’t get to do what I want. If the board doesn’t think I’m fit to manage their investment, they can toss me out.” His face flushed and he stepped to the window, turning his back to her and fisting his hands at his sides. “I knew all of this. I told myself this a hundred times when you first showed up here. What I don’t know is how I managed to forget it all.”

  She blinked. “So you’re saying what happened between us was a mistake?”

  “I should have been more responsible.”

  His dismissal hurt. So much so that she tried giving him another shot at coming up with a better answer, not ready to believe he was actually tossing away everything they’d shared. “You seriously regret getting involved with me?”

  He didn’t respond, and as she stood there waiting, all the happiness she’d gathered in the past three weeks slid away like sand through her fingers.

  “I see,” she said.

  Her throat tightened and a flood of tears threatened to humiliate her. How could she have been so foolish? How could she have let this man become so important to her? And why—why—hadn’t she seen it coming?

  Hadn’t she been through this enough times before? To every lover in her past she’d been either a play toy or a meal ticket. Why had she been so quick to think Marc was different?

  “To think I thought I loved you,” she muttered, wishing the words back the moment they spilled from her lips. She hadn’t meant to say them out loud, and when Marc spun around and witnessed the pain in her eyes, she wished there was a hole in the ground where she could slip through and disappear.

  “Rachel, I…” He stood there with his mouth agape, clearly not prepared to answer to that.

  She shot up a quick hand. “Don’t worry. I’m over it. Way over it.”

  Hot flames of embarrassment spread across her cheeks. Or was it anger? Most likely one feeding the other, because she was both humiliated for making a fool of herself and angry for letting it happen. She should have known better by now, should have never dropped her guard back when he was seducing her body and tempting her heart.

  Straightening her shoulders, she jutted her chin and tried to hide her overwhelming urge to run and cower. “I’m sorry this happened. I’ll talk to my father. I’m sure he can fix it so you don’t lose your resort.”

  “I don’t need your father’s help.”

  “Why not? Why should you be different from the others? At least you score an extra point by only letting me fix what I screwed up in the first place.”

  “Stop it.”

  He took a step toward her but she backed away. The old bitter and angry Rachel Winston—the one she’d thought she’d buried forever—was quickly rearing up and taking over. And though she knew she was acting childish, she didn’t care. It felt better than the shame and embarrassment it shrouded.

  “Brett told me right from the start your only love was this resort,” she said. “I should have listened. I can’t believe I was dumb enough to think I might matter too.”

  Hot anger flared through his eyes. She’d apparently struck a nerve, and she didn’t stop to analyze the satisfaction she got from that.

  “Don’t assume you know what matters to me,” he snapped.

  “Are you telling me I’m wrong?”

  “You’re not being fair. You have no idea how hard I’ve worked for this place.”

  “And you’d give anything to wipe out these past four weeks like they’d never happened. Right now you’re standing there wishing like hell you’d never set eyes on me, aren’t you?”

  She stood there staring at him, wishing—mentally begging—him to say it wasn’t true, that while he was angry and frustrated over the situation they were in, like her, he wouldn’t trade this past month for anything in the world. Instead, he simply ground his teeth and stood there, his mind apparently processing a dozen answers, no doubt none of them good. And she wondered how her life had managed to go from total bliss to sheer hell in the matter of fifteen minutes.

  An hour ago, she was happily plotting their evening, fantasizing about how life might be living on these grounds and working together. Now she realized the fantasy had been hers alone, and like so many other avenues she’d tried to explore, once again, when she turned down the final path there was nothing but a dead end sign at the end.

  Except this time the loss was crushing, because this time she’d tasted something she’d really wanted with all her heart.

  “Forget it,” she said, backing toward the door until she clasped the handle. “I’m leaving tonight.”

  “Leaving?”

  He hadn’t expected to hear that, and for a fleeting second, she thought the news might have pushed him to express something—anything—that resembled the caring man she’d fallen in love with. But when she explained her father had sent a car, he only nodded in agreement.

  “I suppose it’s for the best,” he said.

  It cut the final slash through the only morsel of control she’d been holding on to, and before she burst into tears and came at him with both hands raised, she quickly turned the knob and opened the door behind her.

  “Yeah, it’s for the best,” she quipped.

  Then for the second time in four weeks, she rushed out of his office, beaten, broken and swearing off men for the rest of her life.

  15

  “WHY SO GLOOMY?” Brett asked, sidling up next to Marc as he stood under an archway and stared out over the lobby of the Clearwater Springs Resort.

  The registration desk was busy this afternoon with a group of insurance agents checking in at the start of a four-day conference. It would be another hectic week, business as usual. One wouldn’t even know that only last week this place had been crawling with press, all hell had broken loose, and Marc’s job had been dangling by a thread.

  Since then, the investigator from the San Diego courts had come and gone, certifying Rachel’s sentence and closing the case without incident. And despite Phil Arnall’s best efforts, the board members sided against him, agreeing to keep Marc on as managing partner and basically telling Phil to go blow his horn somewhere else. In the blink of an eye all of Marc’s problems had disappeared and life had gone back to normal.

  Except that he didn’t feel anything close to normal.

  “Everything blew over just like I said it would,” Brett went on. “So how come even though you say you forgive me for Margaret I keep getting the feeling you haven’t?”

  Marc shoved his hands in his pockets and kept observing the activity. “I told you it’s over and forgotten.”

  Brett eyed him, too smart to have missed all the falsities in that statement, but nonetheless he didn’t press. They both knew that when it came to the matter of Rachel Winston, it was neither over nor forgotten.

  So many times since she left the resort last week, Marc had wished he could wind the clock back and do it all over. Though unlike Rac
hel believed, he didn’t want to do over the past month entirely. He only wanted to step back to that moment she came into his office after their affair had hit the press and he’d acted heartless and cold. It brought a pain to his gut every time he replayed their conversation in his mind. He doubted the look of devastation in Rachel’s eyes would ever leave him completely.

  He’d called her the very next day, trying to apologize and explain that he’d been angry with his situation and had shamelessly taken his frustrations out on her. He’d hated that his career and everything he’d worked for all these years still wasn’t his, that his life wasn’t his own, and that despite the tiring hours he put into managing this resort, he still had to answer to people like Phil Arnall. He’d been infuriated by the inquisition and had taken it out on the easiest target, tearing Rachel’s feelings apart with his inability to acknowledge what was really in his heart.

  And when he’d called her up to say all that, she’d only told him what he could do with his apologies, throwing out a couple more suggestions which were technically anatomically impossible, before hanging up in his ear.

  She wasn’t having anything to do with him, and though he couldn’t blame her, he also couldn’t accept the idea that there was nothing he could do to make things right again. He had to make things right again. Because he’d learned during this past week that though he had his life back again, none of it seemed to matter without her by his side.

  “I talked to Rachel yesterday,” Brett said, as though he’d read Marc’s thoughts.

  Marc shot a glance to his brother. “And?”

  Brett’s look was apologetic. “Her mom has convinced her to spend some time in Italy with her.”

  The pain in Marc’s gut swelled.

  “She’s leaving the country?”

  “Not right away. She’s still got a few days of her sentence to deal with. They’re working on the arrangements for that, but when she’s done, she’ll be taking off for a few months. I guess Abigail bought a vacation home out there and she wants Rachel to help decorate it.”

  Brett might as well have said she was traveling to Mars, the feeling of permanence in that move deepening the troubled thoughts that had haunted him all week.