by Donna Hill
“Welcome to my world,” Samantha murmured to Chad as she waved and greeted Nettie, Steve and Mia on her way to her cubbyhole office in the back.
“Mia, we need to talk,” she tossed over her shoulder.
“Be there in a sec,” she called back, covering the mouthpiece of the phone.
“Have a seat,” Samantha said to Chad, indicating a vacant chair with a toss of her hand. She stood behind her desk, hands on hips. “So, how does this 007 thing work? You kind of just hang around or what?”
Chad eased down into the chair. “You got me. This is my first gig,” he teased.
“Ouch. I might have to look after you.”
“Would that be so bad?” he asked, a sudden sparkle in his eyes.
“Let’s not take it there. You know what happened with Whitney and Kevin in The Bodyguard,” she taunted.
“Yeah…I remember.”
A gentle warmth, an assurance, settled between them and they relaxed in each other’s company for the first time in hours. And it felt good.
“I know you have tons of work to do,” Samantha finally said, shifting the conversation to a manageable territory. “We can get you set up with a computer and a phone and whatever else you need.”
“Great. Can I get access to the database that’s been put together?”
“Absolutely. I’ll get you a code and it’s done. Anything else you can think of?”
“Some coffee.”
“Help yourself.” She pointed to the makeshift kitchen and laughed. “Coffee is as good as you make it.”
Mia stuck her head in the door. “Ready for me?”
“Yes. Come on in. Chad needs to be in on this anyway since it was his idea. Close the door.”
Once everyone was settled, Samantha began and Chad was once again amazed by this other Samantha, not the femme fatale, or the wounded soul, or the defiant one, but a woman in control, clear-headed and with vision. A woman respected by her peers and feared by her enemies, intuitive and bright. Samantha Montgomery was a woman to be reckoned with.
“…I want a statement prepared,” Samantha concluded. “I’ll give you all the particulars, Mia. And then call Fleming, our contact at the Post and give him an exclusive.”
Mia nodded as she took notes. “I’ll get right on it. Anything else?” She looked from Samantha to Chad.
“I think Sam’s covered everything,” Chad said. “I don’t have anything to add except this…be careful. Be mindful of new faces, packages. Pay attention to everything around you. And old faces as well.”
“I trust my staff.”
“And you should. But in instances like this, no one is above suspicion. It’s hard to swallow, but it’s true.”
Mia looked away.
“No offense, Mia,” he said. “Just stating facts.”
“None taken. I know where my bread is buttered.” She looked to Samantha and grinned.
“Then that’s it. Mia, Chad is going to need a code to get into the systems.”
“No problem.”
“How’s the database coming?” he asked.
“Just about finished.”
“Maybe I can help,” he offered.
“The more fingers the better. Mine are beginning to cramp.”
“I’m a quick study. Just show me how it’s done.”
“Well, if you two can keep each other busy and out of trouble, I have work to do,” Samantha said.
Before they were halfway out the door, her phone rang. She waved with one hand and picked up the phone with the other.
“Samantha Montgomery.”
“Sam, it’s Dad. We need to talk, sweetheart. I’m on my way over there.”
Chapter 20
“Knock, knock.”
Simone wearily looked up from the stack of reports from the latest Harris. She let a tired smile relax her mouth and briefly squeezed her eyes shut to rid them of the numbers running in front of them.
“Hey, Adam. Come on in. I could use a break.”
“Can I close the door?”
“Sure.” She looked at him curiously as he crossed the carpeted floor and took a seat in the antique cherry wood armchair opposite her.
“How’s it going?” He peeked above the tops of the paper piles, stretching his long legs out in front of him, and loosening his blue and red geometric tie.
“Just reviewing the latest poll numbers. Not bad,” she conceded. “But we’ll have to be a helluva lot better if we’re going to solidly beat McCall in November.”
“That’s what I want to talk to you about.” His expression grew more serious. “I know you’re dead set against toning down your stance, but, Simone—” he leaned forward, his voice urgent and imploring “—you need to really think about it.”
“I have,” she snapped without hesitation.
“Simone, this isn’t some meet-you-at-three schoolyard threat. These are real people with some serious issues.”
“What about our issues, Adam? Are they any less serious because someone says shut up?”
“No. Of course not.” He paused a beat, assessing the turn his next words would take—dare he say them. “Simone…I care about you. More than just a rising politician, more than just a friend.” He held up his hand when she opened her mouth to speak. “I know you have some unresolved issues with Chad, but I was hoping you’d think about…us. Me and you. Try it on, see how it feels.” He blew out a breath. “I guess what I’m saying is, I’ve always cared about you, Simone, for as long as I’ve known you. It took the threat of possibly losing you to make me say what I’ve been thinking all along.”
He stood and headed for the door. “Don’t say anything. Not now. Think about it. We can talk over dinner. Say around 7:30?”
Wide-eyed, Simone nodded numbly in agreement as Adam closed the door quietly behind him.
The ringing phone snapped her out of her daze.
“Yes, Denise?”
“Your sister is on two,” her secretary announced.
“Thanks.” She pressed the flashing light. “Sam, hi. What’s—”
“You won’t believe what he did!” she hissed into the phone, sounding like a pot ready to boil over.
“What who did?”
“Dad!”
Simone shook her head to clear it. “Dad? What did he do?”
“He called Janice, my mother. Can you believe that? He actually called her. And it gets worse. She’s on her way. She’ll be here tomorrow.”
“Oh, sh—”
“Exactly. Tomorrow. I guess she thinks she can play mom and convince me to go back to Atlanta—where it’s safe. Monie, I’m so pissed I could scream.”
Simone heard something crash on the other end of the phone and instinctively flinched.
“Sam, calm down a minute and tell me what happened.”
Samantha huffed and puffed for a minute in an effort to pull herself together. “He just left,” she finally uttered, reining in her spiraling emotions. “And it’s a good thing too, ’cause I was a hot minute from throwing him out personally.”
Simone bit down on a smile. Now that would have been worth the price of admission. “Okay, so he just left. What did he say?”
“Well, you know Dad, the consummate diplomat. But the minute he walked in here, I knew something was up…”
“Hi, sweetheart,” Justin greeted as he effortlessly strode across the room to where his daughter sat. His smile was ebullient, his dark eyes shining. Cover-model together in his gun-metal-gray wool gabardine suit and burgundy and gray pinstriped tie, Justin Montgomery could easily move from the courtroom to dinner without missing a beat. He was a bit more silver-haired at the temples these days, with a soft sprinkling of snow across his cap, Samantha noticed, as she stood to receive his customary kiss, but it only made him that much more maturely attractive.
“Hi, Dad. Have a seat. You made it sound urgent on the phone. Everything okay?”
Justin slowly sat down. He clasped his hands across his knees, leaning forward. “I�
��ve thought hard about this latest threat, Samantha.” Samantha stiffened, sensing trouble. “I want you to go back to Atlanta for a while until things calm down.”
She shot up out of her seat, rattling the pencil cup on her desk. “No. Forget it.”
“Sam, be reasonable.”
“I’ve already decided—”
“I called your mother.”
“You did what?”
“She agrees with me.”
“I don’t care what she thinks,” she tossed back, folding her arms and glaring at her father. “How could you do that? Why, is a better question.”
“Your mother has a right to know what’s going on with you, Samantha. She may be a lot of things, but she’s still your mother.”
Samantha stalked across the room, fury twisting her insides. “I’m not going,” she stated emphatically.
“Your mother will be here in the morning.”
“What! Is this some sort of conspiracy?”
“She’s concerned, Sam.”
“Pleeeze.” She turned cold, gray-green eyes on him. “Was her coming here your idea, too?”
“No, it was hers.”
Shocked for a moment, she didn’t respond.
Justin stood. “I know you’re upset,” he said gently. “And you have every right to be. But you’re my daughter, and whatever I need to do to protect you, I will. And on that, there’s no negotiation.”
Samantha remained silent.
“She wants to see you, Sam.”
Samantha looked away.
“Your mother will be at my office after I pick her up from the airport. I’ll call you.”
“Does Vaughn know you’ve done this?” she hurled at his back between clenched teeth.
He stopped short, struck by the venom in her voice. “I’ll talk to her when I get home.”
“Damn,” Simone whispered at the end of the conversation.
“That’s putting it lightly.”
“Hey, maybe it won’t be so bad. Let her say whatever she has to say and you do what you need to do, that’s all.” Simone knew how deeply Samantha resented her mother for what she’d done, the years of lies. They’d sat up long into the early hours of the morning talking about her feelings, the hurt and resentment Samantha felt toward Janice for having deprived her of her father all those years. And now the very person that she’d stood up for, turned her back on her mother for, is the one who betrayed her. Or so she felt.
“That’s not even it,” Samantha said, her voice weak and full of sadness. “It’s Dad. What he did…”
“I know, Sam. But he’s just looking out for you.”
“You’re taking his side,” she accused.
“No. I’m not. I’m just trying to be open-minded. Like you should be.”
“Forget it. It’s obvious you don’t understand either.” She slammed down the phone.
Simone stared at the phone in her hand, listening for several moments to the dial tone humming in her ear. She thought about calling Samantha back, but decided against it. Little sis needed some cool-down time. She’d call her at home, later.
Chad spoke with Justin in the hallway of Samantha’s storefront office.
“Justin, man, why? You knew Sam would flip about something like this. I don’t know all the details about Samantha and her mother, but what little I do know isn’t good.”
Justin clenched his jaw. “It was Janice’s decision, Chad.”
“But you made the call.”
“Yes, I did. And given the chance, I’d do it again.” He shifted his stance from his left to right leg. “Janice took something away from me I’ll never recover—the years with my daughter. I have her back now, and as much as I detest what Janice did, I won’t stoop to her level, and I won’t play the revenge role. I only wish I was involved in Samantha’s life all those years. But I wasn’t. I don’t intend to repeat Janice’s mistakes. She’s her mother. Right or wrong. She deserves to know what’s going on with our daughter. What she does or doesn’t do about it will be up to her.”
Listening to Justin, hearing not only the hurt but the sincerity in his voice, he had no choice but to alter his opinion. He only wished that if and when he was called upon, he’d be man enough to make those hard, unpopular decisions as Justin had.
Chad clapped Justin’s left shoulder. “How can I help?”
Justin angled his chin in the direction of Samantha’s office down the corridor. “Be there for her. I know this is a lot all at once—the protests, the threats, this pending suit and now a visit by her mother. And knowing my hotheaded daughter there’s no telling what she might get it in her head to do—rally together college students to form a barricade around the airport protesting Janice’s arrival.”
Chad smiled. “I could almost see her pulling something like that off.”
“Hmm.” Justin agreed. “The funny thing is, she has enough charisma and clout in this town to make it happen. But that’s the public Samantha Montgomery. The one I’m concerned about is the one behind the headlines and the microphones.” He heaved a sigh and stuck out his hand for the black man’s shake of the day. “I’ve got to run. Keep an eye on her for me, will you?”
“Absolutely. I’ll call you,” he said to Justin’s receding back.
“Samantha, Samantha, Samantha,” Chad mumbled, head bowed as he returned down the corridor. “What are we going to do with you?”
Chapter 21
“Vaughn…”
She turned from hanging her clothes in the closet, saw her husband of six years and turned away.
Justin stepped fully into the bedroom and closed the door, not risking the chance that Dottie might overhear what could turn into an ugly conversation.
“We need to talk.”
“About what, Justin? It’s pretty clear that my opinion doesn’t matter when it comes to your daughter.” She took her robe from the closet and shut the door with a definitive thud.
He felt her sting as sharply as a slap and he knew he deserved it.
“I’m sorry about this morning. My comments were uncalled for.”
She kept her back to him, brushing her hair as she faced the vanity mirror.
“I know how much you love Samantha,” he continued. “And I never meant to hurt you with my thoughtless remarks. I’m sorry, Vaughn.”
She spun around, her eyes steeped in the anger that had been brewing all day. “It’s more than an apology, Justin. It’s what came from in your heart. You may be sorry you said it, but the truth is, it’s what you felt.” Her voice trembled ever so slightly. “And you’re right, she is your daughter, as Simone is mine. But we made a promise to each other when we married that no matter what, we’d never let our roles as their parents interfere with or harm what we have as husband and wife. Maybe they were just words. But I believed them.”
He slowly approached her. “I believe them, too,” he said gently, aching inside at witnessing the hurt shimmering in her brown eyes and knowing that he put it there. “I know I can’t take back what I said to you, but I need you to believe that it was only said in a flash of fear and frustration. It had nothing to do with my belief about how you feel for Sam, or your role in her life. I love you. More than life itself, and I would never do anything to intentionally hurt you.” He dared to step closer and his heart twisted when he saw her entire body tighten in defense of his approach. He stopped, drew in a breath and slowly released it. “I spoke with Janice this morning.” She flinched slightly, but he continued. “She decided to come here. Her plane arrives at nine tomorrow morning.”
Vaughn’s lips tightened into a hard line. She turned away, walked toward the bathroom and shut the door.
Moments later, the hard splash of rushing water could be heard.
“I don’t want to discuss my father, Chad,” Samantha stated as she sat pinned to the passenger-side door of his car.
“At least try to see his way of thinking, Sam.”
“Look, I’m damn near thirty years old. If I can’t
take care of myself by now, I never will. And the last person I need supervision from is my mother.”
Chad made the turn onto Sixteenth Street. “I don’t think the issue is about your ability to take care of yourself, Sam. The issue is that your parents care about you. They want you safe. Put yourself in their place. How would you feel if your child’s life was threatened? There’s no way you can make me believe you, of all people, would sit back and just say ‘oh, well. ’You’d turn hell into heaven to protect them. You do it for strangers, Sam.”
She huffed out a breath, tossed him a quick look, then stared out the window. “I don’t think you know how much I hate to be wrong,” she said in a tiny voice.
“Is that what you’re saying now?”
“I’ll never admit it.”
He held on to a smile. “Now that we have that cleared up.”
“I really don’t want to see her, you know.”
He reached over and covered her fisted hand with his. “I know, babe. But I can guarantee that you’ll feel better when you do.”
“You don’t know my mother,” she said, her gaze focused onto a place he could not see. “She’s…manipulative. She plays the weak and vulnerable female, but underneath there’s a heart of stone. Anything my mother does is only to further her own self-interest. It took me years to figure that out. She didn’t leave my father because he mistreated her, or didn’t love her or me, like she made me believe all those years. She left because she wanted to be the center of attention. And when I was born, the limelight was no longer on her. Then my dad’s law practice started taking off. So she left to punish him, and she wanted me to punish him, too.”
“People can change, Sam. Maybe your mother has finally seen what she’s done to her life and to yours.”
“That’s hard for me to believe, Chad,” she said sadly. “As much as I may want to.”
“Well, at least hear what she has to say and make your own decision. Which I know you will anyway,” he added with a smile.
“That’s pretty much what Monie said, and I hung up on her.”
