Dirty Little Secrets

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Dirty Little Secrets Page 2

by Lizzie Shane


  “I’m not going on a blind date with the new guy from your husband’s job.”

  “Yes, you are, and I’ll give you three reasons why.” Jackie declared, and Samira groaned. Jackie wasn’t going to let this go until she’d had her say.

  “Only three?”

  “Three primary reasons. With addendum reasons to be considered as needed.”

  Samira snorted. “This is how you and Amal fight, isn’t it? With addendum arguments to be added as needed.” Jackie’s husband was a policy wonk at the Department of Defense and she’d never met a man who had more of a passion for memos and procedural points of order.

  “Nonsense, addendums are foreplay. We fight with strongly worded letters on monogrammed stationery.” Jackie winked, but wasn’t distracted long. “Now back to Brian and the reasons why your date with him is a non-negotiable fact. Reason one.” She held up a single slim finger. “It has been almost three years since you divorced that festering turd of humanity and it’s time to knock the dust off your girl parts and give them some action.”

  Samira blushed, but this was Jackie—the one person she felt she could really be herself with—and there was no one within earshot so she lowered her voice and whispered, “My girl parts get plenty of action, thank you very much, and my battery-operated-boyfriend is much more reliable than the human variety ever was when it comes to satisfying those needs.”

  “I’m not even going to get into how sad it is that you’ve never been with someone who knew what he was doing down there. Reason two.” A second slim umber finger popped up. “You were born to be a mother and your ovaries aren’t getting any younger.”

  “One,” Samira countered with her own raised finger, “I’m only twenty-nine. And two, I don’t need children of my own. Stella and Maddie are more than enough to keep me occupied.”

  “Which brings me to reason three. You need to get out of that house and remember that there is life beyond the Raines family. I go home to Amal every night, but you—”

  “I like my life,” Samira insisted, hearing the defensive tone in her own voice and repeating, more evenly, “I like my life. Just the way it is. No men. No complications.”

  “No sex. No flirting. No companionship,” Jackie emphasized. “I know I talk about Amal like he’s only good for one thing, but honestly the thing I miss most when he’s away on business is the cuddling. And just having someone there to share my day with, to share my life with. Don’t you miss that? Brexley! Put your brother down!”

  Jackie popped off the bench, ready to intervene, and Benjamin Franklin lifted his head, alert to the possibility of escape, but the oldest of Jackie’s three charges released his hostage and she sank back down. Benjamin Franklin flopped down in disappointment as Samira sent a silent thanks toward the ever-challenging Brexley for the distraction.

  The truth was, she didn’t miss that companionship, because she’d never had it. Her festering turd of an ex, as Jackie liked to call him, had been more about control than companionship. If she wasn’t agreeing with him, her words had no purpose. Her current solitude, instead of feeling lonely, felt peaceful during the long nights of quiet after she put the girls to bed when she could read or marathon Scandal in the privacy of her cozy attic suite.

  No one there to criticize her or give her that condescending frown that always made her feel like a fool. No one there to make her world feel like it was shrinking around her until there wasn’t any air to breathe.

  Just peace. And space to watch whatever cheesy television show she wanted or read whichever delicious romance novel she liked without a single person commenting on the literary merit of her choice. Pleasure without guilt. It was pure luxury, her isolation.

  “I know your ex was a piece of work,” Jackie went on when Samira didn’t answer. “But just because he was a jerk doesn’t mean all men are jerks. You, Samira Esfahani, are a catch and there is a good man out there for you. I promise not all the good ones are taken.”

  “Says the woman who took one of the good ones off the market when she was seventeen,” Samira commented dryly.

  “I got lucky,” Jackie agreed. “But there’s luck out there for you too. I believe that. And it’s time you started believing it too. You’ve had two and a half years to get over your divorce. Now it’s time to get back out there and live. Starting with Brian Wilson.”

  “You seem to think I must be miserable because I’m alone, but a woman doesn’t need a man to be happy. I don’t need a man to be happy. I don’t want my life to change. What happens if I go out with this guy and he’s amazing and I do want to marry him and have his babies? What happens to the girls? I’m all they have.”

  “You aren’t all they have,” Jackie argued. “They have a father. For that matter, they have the entire Raines dynasty. I think Maddie and Stella will survive.”

  They would. Samira couldn’t argue with that. But would she survive being separated from them?

  She hadn’t known what all she was getting into when she’d signed on with the Raines family two years ago. She’d paid only cursory attention to politics before moving to DC and hadn’t realized that Aiden Raines was one of those Raineses until she’d been taking care of the girls for almost three months.

  It had been only a few weeks before Chloe’s passing, when the younger woman had been indulging in a fit of should-have-beens, that Samira had learned the truth about the family. Chloe had thought she could be the first lady one day. After all, her husband was the son of Ambassador Thomas Raines, the brother of Congressman Scott Raines, and the grandson on his mother’s side of infamous mega-million-dollar campaign donor and behind the scenes power-player Dalton Montgomery. They were one of the elite Washington families and combined with Chloe’s own family’s political connections, their future had been assured.

  Only the cancer hadn’t cared. And now it was Samira raising Chloe’s girls and trying to keep their scattered memories of their mother alive while their father worked himself to death fighting legal battles because he hadn’t been able to fight cancer.

  The girls had been her life for the last two years, and it had been impossible to keep them from burrowing into her heart. Samira tracked them with her eyes as they played, climbing a rope net—two blonde heads shining in the sun, Maddie leading the way and Stella her constant shadow.

  “Answer me this,” Jackie insisted, unperturbed by Samira’s long silence thanks to their years of friendship. “What happens when Aiden Raines decides to remarry?”

  Samira’s head snapped toward Jackie and she blinked, more alarmed than she wanted to admit by the idea. “He works all the time. I think he dates even less than I do.”

  “Which is mathematically impossible, but what if he meets some sexy civil rights activist who needs legal counsel and one thing leads to another and suddenly they’re walking down the aisle and you’re out of a job—”

  “It wouldn’t change anything. They would still need a nanny. He was married when he hired me.”

  Jackie rolled her eyes. “Fine. A sexy civil rights activist who has always secretly longed to be a stay at home mom to her adorable step children and doesn’t believe in nannies. Work with me here.”

  “You’re making up scenarios that are never going to happen. Why should I worry about something so unlikely?”

  “Because it isn’t your life. It’s a job. The Raines family isn’t going to forget that you’re just the help so you need to remember it too. You need work-life balance, and right now all you have is work. So go on this one date for me. Brian Wilson. You might even have fun.”

  As much as she didn’t want to admit it, Jackie might have a point. Grudgingly, she stipulated, “If I can get the time off, I’ll go.”

  Jackie squealed with delight, drawing the attention of the other nannies and stay-at-home parents scattered on benches around the playground. “You won’t regret this. Just wait. You’ll see.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  Aiden’s cell rang in his hand as he was flicking through e
mails on his way to the small conference room. His oldest sister’s name popped up on the screen and he almost tapped ignore before he remembered it was Wednesday and Charlotte always visited their grandfather on Wednesdays.

  “Go ahead,” he told his aide, Jaydeen. “I’ll be right in.” He moved to one side of the hallway and connected the call. “Charlotte? Is everything all right? I have to be in a deposition in five minutes.”

  “Everything’s wonderful! I’m getting married!”

  “You’re what?” he asked, and then flinched at his own volume. He wasn’t in the habit of taking personal calls in the firm’s hallways—or really anywhere during work hours. “To whom?”

  He hadn’t even known Charlotte was dating again. She’d been divorced for about fifteen seconds, after her K Street lobbyist ex-husband had been famously—or infamously—outed as the secret lover of the gay junior Senator from Vermont.

  “To Tug, of course!” She giggled. “He proposed at the Kennedy Center Gala last night. It was the single most romantic moment of my life.”

  Aiden struggled to place the name. Had his mother mentioned a Tug the last time he’d seen her? Did the matriarch of the Montgomery-Raines clan know that Charlotte was jumping back into matrimony so soon? “Congratulations,” he said, hoping he sounded sincere.

  “We’re thinking June for the wedding—”

  “This June?”

  “I know, it’s not much time to plan, which is why I wanted to talk to you right away. I was hoping the girls could be flower girls. Wouldn’t that be darling?”

  He struggled to keep up with the rapid flow of words, his brain stuttering even as he answered on autopilot, “They’d love it. Any excuse to dress up like princesses.”

  Charlotte giggled again, her bliss bubbling through her voice. “That’s exactly what I told mother when she asked if I wanted to do another big wedding.”

  So their mother did know. Had she met the groom yet? Did she approve of the warp-speed engagement?

  Charlotte chattered on happily. “The good venues have all been booked for months, but luckily we have the perfect site at our disposal.”

  “We do?”

  “Grandpa’s estate! I was thinking an outdoor reception on the east lawn. Perhaps even holding the ceremony there. Can’t you just see it? Me, walking down an aisle strewn with rose petals toward a trellis arch positively dripping with exotic flowers.”

  “Are you sure that’s wise?” Aiden asked. “He hasn’t been doing well lately.”

  “He won’t have to lift a finger. Mother and I will take care of everything.”

  “That’s not what I meant.” At the rate his grandfather was declining they may soon be planning a funeral as well as a wedding. Aiden swallowed down a thickness in his throat at the thought.

  Dalton Montgomery was a polarizing figure in American politics. In many circles his name was synonymous with corruption, but the larger-than-life man was also Aiden’s grandfather and had been his most valued counselor for years. But now Alzheimer’s was taking its toll.

  Shortly after his other sister Candy’s kidnapping scare in Venezuela when Aiden was six, the family had stopped traveling with his father to his diplomatic postings overseas. As a result, Aiden had spent his breaks from boarding school living with Dalton Montgomery. His grandfather had been as much of an influence on him as his father had, and it was heartbreaking to see the great man’s mind slipping away.

  “Grandpa already said yes,” Charlotte announced—as if his lucidity weren’t in question at any given moment. “Don’t worry about the details. Just bring the girls and be ready to have a good time. There’s one of my bridesmaids you must meet.”

  “Charlotte…” Aiden began warningly as the door to the small conference room popped open and Jaydeen stuck her head out, frowning. He held up a single finger for her. “I’ve got to go. I’ll call you later.”

  “I know you’ll say you aren’t ready,” Charlotte went on as if he hadn’t spoken. “You always say you aren’t ready to date again, but it’s been two years, Aiden. Chloe wouldn’t want you to martyr yourself for her.”

  Wanna bet? He bit back the words. Chloe would have probably loved to see him pining away for her, unable to move on. Especially if he built a shrine in her honor. Or a national monument. But people seemed to have forgotten who she really was and replaced their memories with Saint Chloe the Benevolent. It almost made him miss her more, the fact that no one else seemed to remember her sharp, witty, unabashedly self-aggrandizing side.

  “It’s time,” Charlotte went on blithely.

  “I have to get back to work, Charlotte,” he said, his tone final.

  “Just think about it!” Charlotte called out as he tapped the screen to disconnect the call.

  He pocketed the phone. “Sorry,” he said to Jaydeen. “Let’s get started.”

  Charlotte might want him to think about moving on—lately it seemed like everyone wanted that—but none of them could seem to see that he had moved on. He wasn’t pining for his wife, living in a shrine—no matter how much that would have pleased Chloe’s ego. He was working. He was raising his girls. He was living his life. And he didn’t need a woman to do that.

  Besides, he was too busy to think about dating. He had work and his girls. His life was full.

  He shoved the conversation—along with his worries about Charlotte and his grandfather—from his mind and stepped into the small conference room to focus on making things right for his clients, fighting battles he actually had a prayer of winning. And if he was throwing himself into work, at least he was doing good.

  *

  Streetlights reflected off the wet black pavement as Aiden navigated the familiar route home. Two weeks ago, the same drive had been dusted white from the latest Snowmaggedon, deceptively peaceful and soft, but now everything was dark and mysterious—somehow more fitting to a DC night. As he drove, he activated the voice commands on his phone and instructed it to call his mother.

  “Darling,” she said by way of greeting. “Charlotte told me she spoke to you. I’m so pleased the girls will be flower girls.”

  Pleased wasn’t exactly the word Aiden would use. He didn’t waste time dancing around his concerns—his mother had always appreciated directness. “Isn’t this all a little fast? She’s only been divorced a couple months.”

  “Yes, but you know that thing with Reggie was never a real marriage.”

  Says who? “Charlotte didn’t know that.” Not until it had been the biggest scandal in town. “What do we even know about this new guy? Have you met him?”

  “Only the once,” she admitted. “Tug Newton. Of the Providence Newtons. Works for the State Department, just like your father. Good family. Solid connections. Though his father has a tendency to be a touch inflammatory in his rhetoric. Still. That seems to be the trend these days. It’s certainly effective.”

  Aiden didn’t let himself be distracted by her political musings. “Reggie was from a good family too. That didn’t stop him from breaking her heart.”

  “Darling, I know you’re protective of Charlotte and it’s really very sweet, but we have to trust that she knows what she’s doing.”

  “Do we?” His oldest sister, for all that she’d been raised in the heart of the political landscape, had a tendency to take things at face value when it suited her, accepting the appearance of things without looking deeper when the appearances lined up with how she wanted them to be. “If it wasn’t so fast, maybe…”

  “I think she wants to marry while your grandfather is still around to attend. You know having the wedding at the estate will be a mark in its favor. The guest list is bound to be impressive.”

  And that would definitely matter to Charlotte. “Are you sure it’s wise? Having the wedding at the estate?”

  “Charlotte has her heart set on—”

  “We can’t always get what we want.”

  His mother chuckled. “Do you want to be the one to break that to your sister?” She paused m
inutely and her tone softened. “She’s so happy, Aiden. After how despondent she’s been these last few months, I want to hug this man for making her so happy—and you know I do not care for hugging strangers.”

  “That’s the problem. He’s still a stranger.”

  His mother made a soft tsking sound. “So was Chloe to me, when you two got engaged. And look how happy you were.” He heard her sigh. “I just want this to be perfect for her. After everything that she’s been through in the last year, Charlotte deserves the fairy tale and she thinks she has it with Tug Newton. Promise me you’ll help me make this perfect.”

  Aiden slowed to turn into his neighborhood. “I’m not sure how much help I’ll be. I’m not much use in wedding planning.”

  “You could talk to your sister.”

  He frowned, confused. “Charlotte?”

  “Candice,” his mother sighed again, this time a heavy, despairing sound. “Everything is such a battle with her, but she listens to you as much as she listens to any of us. If you asked her, I’m sure she and that husband of hers would make an appearance at the wedding—it’s like pulling teeth to get her to leave California for even a second.”

  “I’m not getting in the middle of that, Mom. If you want Candy there, you’re going to have to issue the decree yourself.” He pushed the button for his garage door as he rolled into the driveway.

  His mother huffed softly and changed the subject. “Did Charlotte mention her lovely young bridesmaid to you?”

  Aiden groaned and shut off his car’s engine. “I’ve just pulled into my garage. I’m going to check on the girls. I’ll talk to you later.”

  “She’s a lovely girl! You’ll meet her at the engagement party. Now, I’m not saying you have to fall madly in love with her. Just promise me you won’t rule out the possibility without even giving her a chance.”

 

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