A Scandalous Affair

by Donna Hill

  “Chad. I wasn’t expecting you.”

  “I know. I’m sorry. I should have called you first. If you’re busy, I guess I can come back…” He retreated a step as if preparing to leave. Testing the waters.

  “No.” She stepped way from the door and pulled it completely open. “You’re here now. You might as well come in.”

  He stepped inside, catching the soft, clean scent of her.

  The door shut behind him, sounding solid and substantial, and he heard the locks click in place. He turned. “Jasmine,” he murmured, remembering her favorite scent, taking in the full measure of her barely hidden beneath the folds of her silk robe.

  She wrapped her arms protectively around her waist. “You remembered.”

  “I don’t think there’s anything between us that I’ve forgotten, Simone.”

  She glanced away, then walked past him into the living room. “Have a seat.” She continued down the corridor to her bedroom, shutting the door behind her. She was shaking all over. What was he doing here? She wasn’t prepared for this. What could he possibly want? This was much too soon. She wasn’t ready. Could she ever be ready for what might happen with the two of them in a room? Sighing heavily, she opened her closet, sorted through her clothes, and pulled out a well-worn but cottony soft, gray sweatsuit, then pulled her damp hair into a ponytail and fastened it with a rubber band. Glancing briefly in the mirror, she put on her best nonchalant expression and returned in a casual gait to the living room.

  “So…what’s up?” Her voice was noncommittal but friendly.

  Surprised by her sudden reappearance, he turned toward the sound of her voice, and hundreds of images flashed through his head: their long lunches in the park, bike riding on Sunday afternoons, political talks long into the night, swapping jazz CDs, and his final blissful night with her before he went away. No, he’d forgotten none of it. Every wonderful moment was still there in his memory banks; nothing was dulled by time.

  Chad drew in a breath. “We need to talk, Simone. And before you ask about what, it’s about us.”

  “Humph, what us? That was a long time ago, Chad. One night. No strings, no promises, remember?”

  “Don’t B.S. me, Simone. I know you. I know it meant more to you than that. It did to me.”

  “Why didn’t you ever write, ever call?” she challenged, wanting him to defend himself so she could attack, get the hurt out.

  “Why didn’t you?” he shot back.

  She spun away, her back to him. “I…didn’t want you to…”

  “To what?”

  “To think that it mattered, that it changed things.”

  He crossed the room to stand next to her. “But it did change things. And we’d be fools not to admit that.”

  “That was four years ago, Chad. Things have changed.”

  He grasped her shoulder and gently turned her to face him. “Look at me.”

  She couldn’t. Her face, her eyes, would say things to him that were best left unsaid.

  “Look at me, Monie,” he said softly.

  By degrees, her eyes rose to rest on his face. She could feel the knot build in her throat. Why resurrect all of this now? What was the purpose of bringing up the past?

  “When I came back…all the time that I was gone, I thought of you.”

  She tried to pull away but he wouldn’t let her. His hands on her served as a lie detector, registering each and every submerged emotion.

  “But I thought you didn’t care, Simone. That I was just someone to be with at a vulnerable time. That maybe you were just giving me going-away goodies because you felt…I don’t know…sorry for me or something.”

  “It was nothing like that.”

  “Then what was it?”

  “You were the one who said no strings, Chad. I took you at your word. I thought I could be modern and adult about it. But…”

  “But what?…”

  She hesitated, knowing that what she said next could change the direction of everything between them. She thought of Samantha, knew how she felt about this man, because she’d felt…and still did feel the same way. She wouldn’t jeopardize her sister’s chance at being happy. Sam deserved a taste of joy in her life. Someone completely hers. If it didn’t work out, it wouldn’t be because of her.

  “I was…adult about it,” she said with finality. “That’s all there is to it. I wish I could say that there was more but there isn’t. You know this is the right thing to do. For both of us. I’m sorry.”

  “I see.” He let her go.

  The phone rang.

  “Excuse me.” She walked toward the phone on the end table. “Hello?”

  “Hi, Monie, it’s me. You busy?”

  She glanced across at Chad. “Hi, Sam. No, I’m not busy.”

  Chad looked at her for a long moment, nodded his head in resigned acceptance and closed the door quietly behind him.

  Simone held the phone down at her side, composing herself, taking several deep breaths. She squeezed her eyes shut as the tears leaked out from beneath her lashes. Still slightly wobbly, she took the phone to the couch and sat. “Hey, sis, what’s this you’ve been dying to tell me?”

  “Before I get to that I wanted to talk about you and me. Something’s not right and I don’t know what it is. What’s wrong? Have I done something?”

  “Oh, Sam, you haven’t done anything. It’s just me being bitchy is all. It’s the campaign and everything. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’ve been such a grouch. I’ve had so much on my mind lately. I think I’ve been taking it out on everyone these days.”

  Samantha relaxed a bit. “You sure? Everything cool with your campaign?”

  “Positive. And yes, everything’s better than cool with the campaign.” She laughed lightly. Samantha, always the worrier.

  “Well, I feel better.” She settled down under her sheet, ready for some girl talk. “I really like him, Monie, more than I thought,” she began. “And the more I see him, spend time with him,” she added in a dreamy voice, “the deeper it gets. He’s everything I’ve ever wanted. You know.”

  Simone swallowed down the hard kernel of regret in her throat, still inhaling the masculine scent of Chad that had seeped into her pores. “Yeah, sweetie, I know.”

  Under the purple sky of early evening, Chad drove aimlessly around the capital city, watching the street lights awaken, forming an endless necklace of illumination along the avenue, as his thoughts darted back and forth between his conversation with Justin and his meeting with Simone. Justin was clear, firm in his resolution to protect his children. He loved his daughters and he would hold Chad personally responsible if he hurt either of them.

  “I believe that Samantha needs to know the truth about what happened between you and Simone four years ago. Vaughn is totally against it. Maybe it’s a woman thing that escapes me,” he admitted. “But the one thing that doesn’t escape me is that both of them care about you and most of all they care about each other. And I won’t stand by and let some macho ethics come between them.”

  “Justin, I think you know me better than that. If anything, I learned how to be a man from you.”

  Justin’s gaze landed on the sincerity of Chad’s face.

  “To be truthful, I think that’s what they both see in me…you.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  “I don’t think I am. They idolize you and any man coming into their lives has a lot to live up to. You’ve been like a father to me all these years. And I would never betray that by hurting you, Vaughn, or your daughters.”

  Justin appraised him for a moment. “How do you feel about them?”

  That was Justin, Chad thought, not unkindly, cut to the chase.

  “I care about them. In different ways. Simone and I…” He shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know what it could have been had I stayed in the States. Maybe everything, maybe nothing. When I came back, I had every intention of trying to bridge the gap, but Simone doesn’t want any part of it.”

  �
��That’s not the way she put it to her mother.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “That’s all I’m going to say about it. My advice… You need to straighten this out before it gets out of hand. Be up front. Tell the truth. Be real. It’s better to get any hurt and misunderstandings out of the way now, rather than when it’s too late.”

  With that on his mind, he’d gone to see Simone. He wanted to hear from her own lips how she felt, what she wanted. That’s what he got, in no uncertain terms. As far as Simone was concerned, it was over, done, finished, a thing of the past.

  So be it, he conceded, turning into the driveway of the Montgomery home. If that’s what she wanted, that’s what he’d give her.

  The instant he walked through the door, Vaughn was there.

  “I’m so glad you’re back. Justin’s in some late-night meetings and can’t be reached. I was on my way to Samantha’s.”

  The fear in her voice was unmistakable. Barely concealed terror.

  “What is it?”

  “Sam called. She’d just finished talking with Simone and had gone out to take the garbage. She found another letter. Sam doesn’t frighten easily, Chad, and she’s scared.” Her eyes were wide and glistening.

  “What did the letter say? Did she read it to you?”

  “You know Sam. She never gets into details. She’ll give you the condensed Reader’s Digest version, but she won’t tell the whole story. Maybe she’ll tell you. She’ll only try to appease me and convince me everything is all right. I’m surprised she even called. That’s why I know she’s rattled this time.”

  “Okay, I’ll go. You stay put in case Justin comes home. He’ll want to know. I’ll call as soon as I get there,” he tossed over his shoulder, already halfway out the door.

  Chapter 15

  In that first moment when Chad saw Samantha’s horrified face, he knew this was no routine threat from amateurs. This was of the real McCoy, heart-stopping variety, something put together by pros. Samantha was afraid. It registered in the stark look in her eyes, the slight tremor around the corners of her mouth when she attempted a weak smile.

  “Sam…”

  She fell into his embrace and he could feel the tense shudders ripple through her entire body. With his arm around her shoulders, holding her tightly, he assisted her back into the house, through the spotless living room to the couch.

  Trembling, Samantha pulled her knees up to her chest, locked her arms around them and rocked back and forth. Her face was completely ashen with terror. She tugged on her bottom lip with her teeth, tried to still her quaking hands, and stared at nothing.

  “Sam,” Chad gently coaxed. “Where’s the letter, hon?”

  Her eyes veered toward a folded piece of plain white stationery on the coffee table. He picked it up and unfolded it, careful to hold it only by the ends, as he read the carefully considered words. Each word spelled out its implied threat, warning of her impending death.

  THIS IS YOUR LAST WARNING BITCH. WEWON’T START WITH YOU. WE’LL START WITH YOUR FAMILY FIRST WHILE YOU WATCH. BACK OFF. WE’RE WATCHING.

  The note was a series of letters cut out from a variety of sources—old yellowed newspapers and magazines—and glued to the page.

  “How many does this make, Samantha?” he asked calmly.

  “Three,” she mumbled, still rocking.

  “You have to take this to the police.”

  Her eyes snapped at him in anger. “Who do you think is sending this stuff, Chad, Santa Claus? It is the police! They want me dead. They want my family dead.”

  “You don’t know that. It could be supporters, lawand-order fanatics, not the department.” He walked over to her side and placed his hand on her shoulder.

  “Don’t be naive. It doesn’t become you.” Her redrimmed eyes glared at him.

  “Relax, Sam, I’m on your side, remember.”

  She twisted her lips. “Sorry.”

  “Forget it.” He paused a moment, then sat beside her. “Where did you find it?”

  She tugged in a breath and covered her stricken features with her hands. “I went to take out the garbage and I found it on the step. At first I thought it was something I dropped. But…”

  “The others…” He lowered his voice to assure her that he took this all quite seriously.

  “They were nothing like this. Mostly just blowing off hot air. ‘Mind your business. Get out of D.C. We don’t need your kind here.’ Stuff like that.”

  “This isn’t something you can ignore, Samantha.”

  Her head snapped up. “What would you have me do, head for the hills, give up everything I’ve worked for, desert all the people who have come to depend on me?”

  “What I’m saying,” he uttered in an even lower, soothing voice, “is that maybe you should keep a low profile. Visit a relative somewhere until this thing cools down a bit. Or leave your apartment for a while at least. Let me and Justin take things from here. Stay out of the papers. Don’t give any more interviews.”

  “Forget it, Chad. It’s not going to happen. I won’t be frightened off. I won’t run.”

  Her fire slowly returned. He could see it in the gradual straightening of her proud posture, the glint of determination that replaced the look of panic in her eyes. The first wave of fear was over, supplanted now with anger and defiance. He had to admire her resiliency. But at the same time she needed to be clear-headed. The last thing any of them needed was a martyr going down for the cause.

  “All right. If you won’t disappear into the woodwork, then we need to take a firm, proactive approach.” Now he had her attention. “Have you ever made these notes public?”

  She shook her head. That had never crossed her mind. Her first notion was to ignore them, to pretend they were sent by some nutcase. There were a lot of them out there. But this was different.

  “Then I think it’s time that you did.”

  A slow, tight smile pulled at her mouth. “That’s more like it.”

  He got up and moved closer to her on the couch, turning her to face him. “You mean a great deal to a lot of people, Samantha. Especially your family. They would be devastated if anything happened to you.” He swallowed. “And so would I.”

  “Would you?”

  “Yes. I would.” He stroked her cheek lightly. “Have you thought about going back home?”

  “That’s out,” she stated bluntly. “Dad would be all over me every minute. He would nag me to death. I’d go crazy there in three days, climbing the ceiling.”

  Chad chuckled. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

  “The thing is, the threats have moved beyond me to my family.” Her voice wobbled. “They’re the ones I’m concerned about. I don’t want them involved in this. I don’t want to see them hurt because of me.”

  “Once Justin knows about this, I’m sure he’ll take the necessary precautions.”

  “What about Simone?”

  His stomach muscles suddenly tightened. “We’ll present this to your family. Calmly and rationally. Let them each make a decision about what they want to do.”

  She frowned slightly in thought and nodded in agreement. “Then we take it to the press…no matter what?”

  “Yeah.”

  Relief rushed out in a soft breath. “Thanks for coming, Chad. I guess I really got Mom upset. I’ll have to call her, let her know I’m okay. I—I don’t usually let things get to me like that. I’m usually pretty cool about this kind of thing.”

  “There’s something in all of us that’s vulnerable, Sam. For you, it’s your family.”

  “Where’s your vulnerability?” she asked softly, her eyes zeroing in on his face. It was her way of taking the conversation away from her and her troubles.

  He glanced away. “Sometimes I let my emotions create things that aren’t there.”

  She looked at him curiously, saw the shadow of something lost move across his countenance. “Would you stay here with me tonight, Chad?”

  Slowly he looked at her
.

  “You can sleep in the living room. Stay with me tonight. The couch pulls out. I’ll stay in my room. I just don’t want to be alone.”

  He glanced down at his hands, which were folded in his lap. “Sure. I’ll need to be up and out early to get back to the house and change.”

  “Whatever. I’ll be sure you get up. I run at five.”

  “Are you sure that’s a good idea now?” he asked, his eyes narrowed.

  “I’m not going to change my routine,” she said with grit.

  He knew it was useless to debate with her. “But I warn you,” he said, wagging a finger in her direction, “I don’t roll out of bed that early. I need my sack time.”

  She smiled wanly in acceptance. Not everyone was an exercise buff like she was. She had to keep that in mind when she had her infrequent overnight guests. And tonight, for sure, she was grateful in the knowledge that she wouldn’t be in the spacious town house alone.

  “Thanks for staying with me,” she whispered softly, laying her head back against the couch with her eyes shut.

  “There’s nothing to thank me for, Sam. I should have been the one to offer,” he said with soft sincerity. “I guess this whole evening got to me more than I thought. I want to be here. Believe that. If I’d left, I know it would have driven me crazy knowing you were here by yourself.”

  The comforting words of assurance drifted to her, letting the fear slowly drain from her body, allowing her heart to stop racing at full speed for the first time in hours. But for how long? How long?

  Chapter 16

  “It’s only going to get worse when this civil action becomes public,” Justin growled, pacing restlessly back and forth across his bedroom floor. He ran his hands over his close-cropped hair.

  Vaughn clasped and unclasped her fingers. “What are we going to do, Justin?”

  “I’m going to call Janice. Sam can go and stay with her mother in Atlanta for a while.”