Indecent Encounter: The Silverhaus Affair

by M. S. Parker

  Carrie rolled her eyes at me. Obviously, I didn’t intimidate her at all.

  “Anyone could have told you Chelsea wouldn’t stay at Benji’s, not after last night. So, it only made sense...” She waved her hand in the air as if I were a dumbass for being so dense.

  Why was I always left out of the loop? I knew they had my best interest at heart, but seriously? I turned to Jamison. “This is my house, you know. You could clue me in once in a while…wait, Chelsea’s here already, isn’t she?” I asked. Now I gave Jamison my stern look. “Jamison?”

  I wasn’t ready to see Chelsea and face up to what I’d said to her. I’d acted like a dick last night, and Carrie was right. I was falling in love with Chelsea. That’s why I'd acted the way I had. I was hurt. Vulnerable. I wanted to push her away. Now, this morning, my actions came back to kick me in the ass, and I was embarrassed all over again. Would she even accept an apology? Chelsea was proud and independent, and I'd gone above and beyond in being an ass.

  Just the idea that Chelsea was inside the house made my heart leap. Shit. I didn’t want a clean break. I didn’t want her out of my life. No, I wanted to hold her, kiss her. Tell her that I loved her. But first, I needed to apologize. No more talking about the movie or my life. I needed to be with her. For real.

  I just hoped she wanted to be with me too.

  I strode toward the house going over what to say to her. In all honesty, I didn’t remember exactly what I’d said the night before. All I knew was that I’d doubted her. Ouch. I'd told her it was clear she cared for nothing but money. Dumbass. And then I'd walked away before she even had time to explain. The memory roiled in my stomach as I opened the kitchen door.

  “Chelsea!” I said, surprised to find her at the kitchen island.

  She looked up from the list she was writing, and then jumped off her stool. “Sorry, I’ll get out of your way.” She wouldn’t look me in the eye.

  As she darted around the large kitchen island, I cut her off, and she almost bumped against my bare chest. I saw her cheeks redden, but she still refused to look me in the eyes. I held out my arms, wanting nothing more than to wrap her in a hug, and tell her what an ass I was, but when she saw my movement she turned to flee.

  “Wait, please. I hear you’re our new head housekeeper.” I blurted out. That sounded really stupid, but it at least stopped her.

  Her eyes finally met mine, and I saw exactly what I expected: pride, determination. And now, a wall between us. What I didn't see was the shinning glow of excitement that she used to have when she'd looked at me. What we’d had was gone.

  “Oh…well…yes. Jamison hired me,” she said. “He said it was okay with you.”

  “I hope it won’t keep you too busy,” I said, trying to move closer to her again.

  She moved back, edging toward the door. “It’s more responsibility, but don’t worry, I plan to make it my complete focus.”

  “But you’ll still have time to work on your screenwriting and the movie, right?” I asked, desperate for something that would give us a connection.

  Her gaze hardened and she pulled her shoulders back. “No. I don’t think so. I wasn’t ready for it anyway, and I’m sure your team will appreciate not having to babysit a newbie like me while they work.”

  The wall was solid. She didn’t want anything else from me. There were so many things I wanted to say, but it was too late, and I didn’t blame her.

  “Well, I know Jamison is glad you’ve decided to spend the rest of the summer here,” I said, unable to say we because it hurt too much.

  Despite her new attitude, I couldn't give up. I was going to fix things between us, I just didn’t know how, yet. All I knew was I didn’t have much time, and letting her go without a fight wasn't an option anymore.

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Chelsea

  I tried my best to avoid Alex and it should’ve been easy once I decided to write out his schedule and make it available via email and in several rooms in the house. Many households were run by a butler, and the other servants rarely saw their employer.

  Except Alex wouldn't let it go.

  He demanded I be the one to bring him breakfast daily. He claimed it was because he wanted his head housekeeper to keep him in the loop, and he also wanted to review the menu choices. I started to suspect it was so he could torture me since we often met poolside, with him fresh out of the water, naked as a jaybird.

  At least this time, he’d put on a pair of shorts before reviewing the schedule and planning the week’s meals. But still, it wasn’t easy staring at him shirtless, his powerful chest and ripped abs still glistening with water.

  After the party at Mr. B’s, Alex had seemed genuinely sorry for the things he said to me, but I refused to let myself think about what that meant. I didn’t want to go down that path again. I tried to stay on task, but every time I did he pulled the conversation over to my personal life.

  A life I needed to get back to.

  “Good morning, Chelsea. Have a seat.”

  It was one of my last days at work, and I just wanted to go over the schedule and get on with my duties. We barely got past the pleasantries when he jumped right into my personal life, as usual.

  “Summer’s almost over.” He leaned forward in his chair smiling. “I’m going to miss our morning meetings.”

  I nearly went weak in the knees when he smiled at me, but I had to remember, that in the past, wishful thinking had gotten me nothing but heartache. I'd lost Zach because of that wishful thinking.

  “Yes, it is beautiful out here by the pool. The gardens, the roses…” I waved a hand around the patio area. “I’m going to miss this too.” I couldn't look at him. “Oregon’s nothing like this.”

  He glanced down at the patio table, then back up to me and said, “I suppose your brother, Karl, and your boyfriend will be glad that you’re coming home soon.”

  “My boyfriend?”

  “Yeah, what’s his name, Zach?” Alex asked.

  “He’s definitely not my boyfriend, remember?”

  “Bullshit.” The word came out flat, but not cruel.

  I gaped at him with wide eyes. “He’s my adopted brother…though he’s decided he doesn’t even want to be that anymore.” My throat tightened as I leaned back in the chair.

  “Because he wants to be your boyfriend.” Alex mirrored my position. “Get a clue, Chelsea. He made it abundantly clear when he visited. You’d have to be blind not to see it. You mean to tell me it didn’t come up while you were touring The Hague?”

  “It did, but I told him, I told him...it’s none of your business,” I said as I stood up. I didn't want to talk about Zach.

  “I bet he didn’t like hearing that,” Alex said, smiling up at me.

  “Not him. You. It’s none of your business.” I folded my arms. “Zach is not my boyfriend. I don’t have one.”

  “You had me,” Alex said softly. He stood up and came toward me.

  “What I had was an employer who took advantage,” I said, balling my hands into fists.

  He recoiled and said, “Is that how you saw it?”

  “How else was I supposed to see it?” My voice went up in pitch as heat rushed to my face. Why did he still want to do this? Sure, I was here, easily available, but it wasn't like he didn't have other options. Carrie was here all the time.

  “I asked you to quit being my employee and stay here as my guest. I wanted you…” Alex said, reaching out a hand.

  I snatched my arm away and hissed, “You knew I needed the money. It was an easy out for you!”

  I wiped angrily at the hot tear that rolled down my cheek. I didn’t want our last days together to be like this, me a crying heartbroken mess. I just wanted to go home and try to piece together some sort of a life.

  “I didn’t want an out. I wanted you,” Alex pleaded, raising his voice.

  “Yeah, and when I took the job with Mr. B so we could be together, you wanted nothing to do with me,” I said. “You suspected the w
orst of me. Now that I’m here under your roof again, now you're suddenly interested in me again. Am I just an object for you to play with?” My voice cracked.

  “That’s what you think?” Alex asked, his voice quiet again. “You think I only want you because you're here?”

  “I don’t know.” I threw my hands in the air. “You keep telling me you hate complications, that I complicate things for you. So let’s keep it simple. You’re the boss. I’m your employee, and there’s nothing else.”

  I swallowed hard. I couldn’t catch my breath around all the unsaid things that were choking me.

  Alex was silent.

  I needed to stop talking before I made things worse. I looked down at the weekly planner I held in my hand and tapped my ink pen against its hard cover. How could I tell him that I loved him? How could I admit I was the foolish girl that tried to make a summer fling into a fairytale? How could I say any of it when it hadn't been real? Instead, I closed the planner notebook, turned, and walked away.

  * * *

  The next morning, I forced myself out to the pool for our regular breakfast meeting, planner in hand, but Alex wasn’t there. I’d expected to see him sitting at the patio table looking handsome and enticing as ever, wrapped in his usual swimming towel. Jamison joined me after a few minutes, carrying what looked like a hand-written note on a white paper in his hand.

  “He’s gone,” he announced.

  I stood there squinting at him in the sun, at a loss for words. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I guess he really was done with me.

  “The filming licenses came through and he’s gone to the U.S. to start the reshoots,” Jamison said, sinking into the patio chair across from me. “He had to go. The reduced fees were contingent on him filming there on location.”

  “So he had to leave last night? Without telling anyone, not even you?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

  Jamison shrugged.

  I slumped back into my chair and stared down at my lap. I felt awful. This was all my fault. Alex had fired April on my account, lost the financing for his movie, and then all the other shit had happened. I hadn't even had the guts to tell him how I'd felt. The funny thing was, I'd thought I would be the one leaving. And now I didn’t even get to say good-bye.

  Stupid. But who was I kidding? I knew a real love affair with him was impossible. I’d never be the woman he was looking for, even if things between him and Carrie were over.

  I exhaled a deep breath. “I didn't see that one coming.”

  Jamison looked at me puzzled. “You what?”

  I waved a hand at him and rubbed my hand across my brow. “Oh, nothing.”

  Jamison brightened and said, “You’ll be leaving soon, too. You’re probably glad to return to your home after, well…that is…your help around here will be missed greatly.”

  My contract was up in a week, and I was due to start classes again in three weeks. Summer was almost over, but I couldn’t help feeling like it was more than just the season that was ending. Everything had changed.

  “And you’ll be joining Alex in the States?” I asked, already missing my friend.

  Jamison smiled and said, “Yes, but let’s not talk about that. Instead, let’s talk about the going away present I got you.”

  “No, don’t be silly. I owe you,” I said, but Jamison shook his head and handed me a folded letter. I thought it was just another sheet of Alex’s note to him, but now I could see it was typed, and on company letterhead.

  “You loved screenwriting, and I don’t blame you for turning down Alex’s writing tasks, but I didn’t want you to drop it completely,” Jamison said.

  I opened the letter and read it. It was an acceptance form from an Oregon production company, outlining my position as a production assistant with additional scene rewrites and screenwriting opportunities. It was a ground floor position for very little money, but it was my own door into the film industry.

  “Jamison, you dear man…” I was practically jumping up and down. “You sent them my resume?”

  “Of course I did.”

  Then, with a wide smile, he added, “Along with some of the pages you wrote for Alex. And my wholehearted recommendation.”

  “You sly old fox. I love you,” I squealed with joy and for a moment, I thought I actually saw the butler’s pasty white cheeks blush with color. “Next Generation Cinema.” I read the company name off the paper, already feeling waves of excitement. “I don’t recognize this production company. I’ll have to go look it up. This is great! Thank you, Jamison. I don’t know how I can thank you enough.”

  “Just do me a favor one of these days,” Jamison said.

  “Anything.” I asked.

  He leaned forward and said, “Go home and take care of your brother, but also take care of yourself.” He tapped a finger on the letter, now laying on the patio table and said, “This is just one thing you wanted. I’m asking you to figure out what else you really want, and then grab onto it. You deserve it.”

  I sat back down, my smile disappearing. “It’s too late for that, I’m afraid. I’ve already let it slip through my fingers.”

  “Maybe not,” he said, leaning forward. “Listen, Chelsea, dear, I just want you to make sure, if you ever have another opportunity, you don’t let anything get in your way.”

  * * *

  From the morning of that quiet breakfast, the summer unwound quickly. I helped Jamison close up that beautiful house, and when he drove me to the airport, all he needed to do was lock the doors, and hand the keys over to the maintenance company. I hugged Jamison goodbye, and laughed when his stiff formality melted for just long enough to hug me back.

  “You know where I’ll be…at college. I’ll leave you my dorm address.” I told Jamison. “Maybe we can meet up stateside. Where are you going to be?”

  He smiled, but didn't answer my question. “Have a good flight, Chelsea. I’ll miss you. I’ll see you again some day, but until then, keep your chin up.”

  I left Jamison standing in the terminal of the airport as I headed to check in for my long flight home. I turned back for one last goodbye wave, but he was already gone, just like the rest of the summer.

  I fell asleep on the plane, and when I woke up, it was hard to convince myself that Holland hadn’t been just one long, complicated dream.

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Alex

  Portland, Oregon, was turning out to be the ideal place to produce a feature film. The state supported its own film industry, and because I’d chosen to film on location here, the local chapter of the film board helped round out my crew. They’d even found this comfortable Craftsman house for me to rent only a few blocks away from our production offices.

  The rented house was nothing compared to my home in Holland, but it was cozy, all warm hardwood and cheerful corners. Outside, the rain pattered on a quiet neighborhood street, but two short blocks away was a great run of restaurants, coffee shops, and other interesting hotspots.

  Jamison appeared in the door to the kitchen, still looking befuddled due to jet lag. After his long flight, I’d given him a couple days off to adjust to the new time zone, but he still struggled. There wasn’t much for a butler to do around this small house; nonetheless, he was up early and ready to work.

  “The only thing that helps jet lag is following the new schedule,” he said, suppressing a yawn.

  “You need some coffee my friend. That’s the magic cure for jet lag. Come.” I waved a hand at the empty chair next to me at the kitchen table. “Have a seat. I’ll pour.”

  Jamison obliged with a small smile turning up the corners of his mouth. “Well, I suppose you’re right. Though I prefer tea, I believe coffee is in order this morning.” He gave a small laugh. “Who knows. I might grow accustomed to drinking coffee now that I’m in the States.”

  “When in Rome…” I smiled, glad to see him in a good mood and glad to have him with me for the duration of the movie shoot.

  I brought the coffee pot to t
he table and poured him a cup, then placed the carafe back in the coffee maker. I slid into my chair eager to hear what news he had about Chelsea. I knew I could count on Jamison to fill me in, even if I didn't ask specifically.

  “So, tell me everything that I missed, Jamison,” I said. I picked up my cup and leaned back in my chair waiting to hear all the news. “And tell me everything. Don’t leave anything out.”

  He lowered his white porcelain coffee cup to the table and opened his mouth to speak, then he stopped. His eyes darted to the window and back to me. “It certainly does rain here a lot.”

  I laughed. “I kinda like the rain. It makes it easier to be inside working.”

  Jamison continued sipping his coffee and said, “Luckily, you don’t have many outdoor shots in your rewrite.”

  “Yes, Chelsea’s idea about keeping the movie to one location was brilliant,” I said. I tried dropping her name hoping he’d take the bait and spill it about Chelsea. She was what I really wanted to hear about, and I knew that he knew it.

  “Speaking of brilliant choices,” Jamison began. My heartbeat picked up. Finally. Now he’d tell me about Chelsea.

  “Your father finally decided to break things off with April. Seems she was a bit clingy and demanding.”

  “No.” I feigned shock. “Not April.”

  “Henry couldn’t keep up with her.”

  Suddenly, an image of how that must’ve played out popped into my mind. “Ha! Serves the old dog right,” I laughed. “Though I have to say, he has balls. That break-up must have been one epic scene.”

  Jamison nodded. “She tried to burn down his house. I wouldn’t be surprised if you hear from him soon. How many rooms does this house have?”

  “What the hell? Wait a minute. Back up. She did what?” I shook my head. Unbelievable. “Never mind, don’t tell me any more. I’ve had it up to here with that woman. I really don’t need to hear any more about April Look-at-me-Temple.”