A Scandal So Sweet

by Ann Major

  Summer sighed. “Gram, I don’t want you wearing yourself out waiting on us. Tuck, we’re going to help her, you hear?”

  Tuck, who was lazy by nature, frowned, but since he adored his big sister, he didn’t argue. He trailed behind them into the kitchen where he leaned against a wall and watched them do everything.

  “At least you’re going to carry the tray,” Summer ordered as she placed the last tea cup on it.

  Tuck grabbed a chocolate-chip cookie instead.

  Then the phone rang and he shrugged helplessly before disappearing to answer it.

  As Summer took the tray out to the porch and set it on the table, she sank into her favorite rocker, finally taking the time to appreciate the deep solitude of the trees that wrapped around Gram’s big old house. In New York or L.A., Summer’s phones rang constantly with calls from her agent, producers and directors…and, especially of late, reporters.

  She was A-list now, sought after by directors on both coasts. She’d worked hard and was living her dream.

  She had it all.

  Or so she’d believed. Then her costar and sometimes lover, Edward, had walked out on her. The night their hit play closed, he’d declared to the entire cast that he was through with her. That had been a month ago. Ever since, nosy reporters had been hounding her for the full story, which she still didn’t want to share. That night, back in her apartment after the wrap party, she’d tried to tell herself that Edward’s departure hadn’t made her painfully aware of how empty her personal life had become.

  No well-known Broadway actress was ever alone, especially when she was under contract for a major Hollywood film. Even when she was between shows and movies, she couldn’t walk out of her apartment without some stranger trying to take her picture or get her autograph. She was always multitasking—juggling workshops, PR events, rehearsals and script readings. Who had time for a personal life?

  She was thirty-one. Forty, that age that was the death knell to actresses, didn’t seem quite so far away anymore. And Gram, being old-fashioned and Southern, constantly reminded Summer about her biological clock. Lately, Gram had started emailing pictures of all Summer’s childhood girlfriends’ children and gushing about how cute they were.

  “Where would I be without you and Tuck? Mark my words, you’ll be sorry if you end up old and alone.”

  Gram’s longings were part of the reason Summer had let Hugh Jones, the hottest young actor on the west coast, rush her into a new relationship not two weeks after Edward had jilted her so publicly. Had she actually felt a little desperate at realizing how alone she was?

  Not wanting to think about her personal life a moment longer, Summer picked up her glass and drank some of her iced tea.

  Where was Gram? And what was taking Tuck so long on the phone?

  Was he talking to Zach?

  She took another sip of tea.

  Reporters constantly asked her if she was in love with Hugh. But unfortunately for her, it wasn’t Hugh who came to mind at the mention of the word love. No, for her, love and Zach would always be tangled together like an impossible knot. Her chest tightened. She’d only felt that exquisitely painful rush of excitement once.

  She never wanted to feel it again.

  She’d been sixteen, and he nineteen, when their romance had ended in unbearable heartbreak. For a brief moment she allowed herself to remember New Orleans and the terrible, secret loss she’d suffered there, a loss that had shattered her youthful illusions forever, a loss that had taught her some mistakes could never be made right.

  Zach was the reason why she almost never came home. Bonne Terre was a small, gossipy Cajun town. If she hadn’t forgotten her past, the town wouldn’t have forgotten it, either. Even if the town’s citizens didn’t ask her about him, she always felt him everywhere when she was home. She had too many painful memories and…secrets.

  Here on this very porch he had kissed her that first time.

  Just as she was remembering how her mouth had felt scorched after he’d brushed his lips against hers, her grandmother’s low, gravelly whisper interrupted her thoughts.

  “You’re not the only person who loves to sit in that chair.”

  The sly, mischievous note in her grandmother’s tone sent a frisson of alarm through Summer.

  “Oh.” She didn’t turn and smile because her cheeks were still burning.

  “Zach always sits there.”

  Summer stiffened.

  “I can’t believe you allow him to come over, much less allow him to sit in my chair. What if someone tips off the press about his visits to see my grandmother and this causes another nasty story to be published about us? And why is he developing in Bonne Terre anyway? In all these years he’s never once come back, until now.”

  “When his uncle died back in the fall he came to visit Nick. When he saw the land prices, he started talking to people. He already has a casino in Vegas. One thing led to another. The city fathers decided to court him… .”

  When Summer noticed the ice cubes in her glass tinkling, she set the glass down with a harsh clink.

  “Careful, dear, that’s your mama’s best crystal.” They paused, as they both reflected on the sweetness of Anna, Summer’s dear, departed mother, whom they would miss forever. “Zach’s bought up all that land across from our place.”

  “I still can’t believe that with his history, with so many in this town set against him, Zach would come back here.”

  “He says it’s time to set the record straight. He’s certainly winning the town over.”

  How exactly did he intend to set the record straight? Summer thought of the one secret she’d kept from him and trembled. “He’s made a fortune in Houston. Isn’t that vindication enough? Why would he care what the people here think of him?”

  “They nearly sent him to prison.”

  Because of me, Summer thought with genuine regret.

  “Old wounds run deep sometimes…and need healin’. He’s got everybody around here excited. His casino’s going to be a fancy riverboat.”

  “Gambling? It’s a vicious, addictive sport.”

  “Gaming will bring jobs…. And jobs will buy a lot of forgiveness. Bonne Terre’s fallen on really hard times of late.”

  “Gram, you sound brainwashed. It makes me wonder how often Zach comes by.”

  “Well, he dropped by the first time because he wanted to see if I’d sell this place to him.”

  Summer would watch the swamp freeze over before she let that happen.

  “Zach’s been by about once a week ever since. We have coffee and cookies. Chocolate chip are his favorite.”

  Summer took great pains to center her glass in its condensation ring on the coaster. “I hope you didn’t tell Zach you might sell or that I was coming to see you about all this.”

  Her grandmother hesitated. “I’m afraid I might have told him he could make me an offer. And… You know how I can never resist bragging about you. I’ve shown him my scrapbooks.”

  Summer frowned. “I can’t imagine I’m his favorite subject.”

  “Well, like I said, he’s always ever-so polite. He’s been especially interested in your romance with Hugh.” Gram smiled. “Asked me whom I thought was more fun—Hugh or himself?

  I said Hugh was a rich movie star, who probably wouldn’t waste his time on an old lady. I told Zach he had nothing to worry about.”

  Summer squeezed her eyes shut and counted to ten.

  Kneading the knot between her eyes, she said, “Did you or didn’t you tell him I was coming home because I’m upset about Tuck’s job?”

  “It’s hard for me to remember exactly what I do or say these days, but if I did tell him, what can it matter? You said that what happened between you two was over a long time ago.”

  Summer frowned. Yes, of course, it was over. So, why was she obsessing about him?

  “I think Thurman had Zach all wrong. I told your stepfather he was too hard on the boy at the time, that you were just youngsters in l
ove. But Thurman doesn’t ever listen to anybody.”

  He hadn’t listened when Summer and her mother had begged him to drop the charges against Zach, and the stress of that time had ended her mother’s remission. Her mother’s death was just one of the reasons Summer was estranged from him. The other had to do with a tiny grave in New Orleans.

  But Summer didn’t want to think about that. “Okay, back to selling this place to Zach. That can’t happen.”

  “I can’t help it if I’m not averse to moving into a modern condo, if Zach comes up with some favorable financin’.”

  “But I love this house,” Summer protested. “I can’t believe you’ve actually gone this far with a deal without once mentioning it to me. What’s his next move?”

  “He said he’d put an offer together, but so far he’s been too busy.”

  “Maybe we’ll get lucky and he’ll stay busy,” Summer muttered, squeezing her eyes shut.

  Somehow she didn’t really think Zach, who could be relentless, would leave her grandmother alone until he got exactly what he wanted. Had he hired Tuck to win over Gram? So she’d sell him her home, which had been in the family for more than a hundred years?

  “Word has it he closed on that tract across from us just yesterday. That’s where he’ll build the dock,” Gram said. “So he’d like to control this property. He definitely doesn’t want me selling to anybody else.”

  Inspiration struck.

  “Gram, I’ll buy the house from you. Then you can live here or in a condo. Your choice.”

  “Oh?”

  “I want you to call Zach and tell him you won’t sell. Hopefully, when he learns I’m here checking up on you, he’ll back off.”

  Her grandmother watched her intently for a long moment. “You never looked at Edward the way you used to look at Zach. Fifteen years is a long time for you to still be bothered by a man,” said her grandmother wisely. “Have you ever asked yourself why?”

  “No.” Summer yanked her scrunchy out of her hair and pulled her ponytail even tighter. “Because I’m perfectly happy with my life as it is. Can we quit talking about him and not start on your dissatisfaction with my single state?”

  “Oh, all right, dear. I won’t bring him up again—or the fact that you’re an old maid—not unless you do.”

  “Old maid? Gram, there’s no such thing anymore.”

  “Maybe that’s so in Manhattan, but that’s definitely not so in Bonne Terre. Ask anybody.”

  Gram’s set expression stung way more than it should have.

  Tuck stuck his head out the door. “Zach called and needs me to come in, so I’ve got to get to work.”

  “Hey, Tuck, your job is one of the reasons I came home. Can we talk?” Summer said.

  “Later. He needs me to run an errand.”

  Summer ground her teeth as she watched her brother lope out the door.

  * * *

  Tuck refused to quit his job. Summer and he had quarreled about it briefly, but Zach had just promoted Tuck to full-time status and he now spent his whole day running errands for Zach’s contractor.

  As for Gram, she was as good as her word. Two whole days had passed without her ever once mentioning Zach.

  She was the only one silent on the subject, however. The whole town was buzzing because Summer and Zach were both in town. Whenever Summer went shopping, the curious sneaked sidelong glances at her. The audacious stopped her on the street and demanded to know how she felt about Zach now.

  “Do you regret what you and Thurman did—now that Zach’s so rich and nice and set on saving this town from economic disaster?” Sally Carson, the postmistress, had demanded.

  “Your grandmother told me he’s been real sweet to her, too,” Margaret York, one of Gram’s oldest friends, said with a look of envy.

  “Well, his return to this town has nothing to do with me,” Summer replied.

  “Doesn’t it?” Margaret’s face was sly and eager. “Men don’t forget… .”

  “Well, I have.”

  “I wonder how you’ll feel when you see him again. We all wonder.”

  One of the worst things about fame was that it made everyone think they had a right to know about her private life. Some things were too personal and painful to share with anyone, even well-meaning neighbors.

  So Summer stopped going into town. Instead, she stayed at the house to work on her script and formulate a new way to approach Tuck.

  On this particular afternoon she’d set a plate of cookies and a glass of tea garnished with a sprig of mint beside a chaise longue on the screened veranda. She paced in frustration, gesturing passionately as she fought to discover her character, a young mother. The role eluded Summer because, for her, young motherhood was a painful theme.

  But today she did something she’d never let herself do before—remember how she’d felt in New Orleans when she’d been expecting her own child. Suddenly, she broke through the protective walls inside her, and grief washed over her in waves.

  Her eyes grew wet, and she began to tremble, but she didn’t relent. So deeply was she immersed in painful memories, she didn’t hear the hard, purposeful crunch of gravel beneath a man’s boots until he was nearly upon her.

  A low vicious oath startled her. Expecting Tuck, Summer whirled, dabbing at her damp eyes with the back of her hand.

  And there he was.

  At the sight of Zach’s hard, chiseled features swimming through her tears, the pages she’d been holding fell to the wooden floor.

  “Well, hello there,” he said.

  “Zach.” She hated the way his low, velvet voice made her heart accelerate, made the air feel even hotter. Frantically, she dabbed at her eyes so he wouldn’t see her tears. “Gram said you’d been visiting a lot.” Her voice sounded choked and unnatural.

  “Did she?” Black eyes narrowed as he pushed the screen door open. “She told me you were coming home.” Zach scowled. “You’re pale, and your eyes are red. Have you been crying?”

  “No! It’s nothing,” she whispered. “I was just acting out a part.”

  His lips thinned. “You always were damn talented at that.”

  Good, he bought it.

  Tall and dark in a long-sleeved white shirt and jeans, and as lethally handsome as ever, Zach’s tight expression told her he wasn’t happy to see her.

  As she bent over to retrieve her script, his insolent dark eyes raked her body in a way that made her aware of how skimpily clad she was in her snug blue shorts and thin, clingy blouse.

  Feeling strangely warm and too vulnerable suddenly, she bristled and sprang to her feet. “I told Gram to tell you. If she decides to sell, she’ll sell to me. So, why are you here now?”

  “I haven’t spoken to her. My secretary arranged my appointment with your grandmother,” he said, striding closer. “When I saw you in those shorts, I imagined she told you I was coming and you were lying in wait… .”

  “As if I’d do—and, hey, it’s August. I…I have a perfect right to wear shorts,” she sputtered.

  “Yes.” His gaze drifted over her appreciatively. “You look good in them. Too good—which I’m sure you know.”

  “Gram didn’t tell me you were coming.”

  “And she didn’t tell me to cancel my visit. I wonder why. Maybe she likes my company. Or maybe she’d prefer to sell to me. This old place and that brother of yours are way too much for her.”

  “None of that is any of your business.”

  “Your Tuck was running pretty wild, got himself fired from a bar because money went missing… .”

  “As if you know anything about Tuck. He doesn’t steal!”

  Zach’s black brows arched. “Still thinking the worst of me while you defend everybody else. Your stepfather’s been giving me hell, too.”

  The comparison to her stepfather cut her…deeply. Zach hadn’t been there for her when she’d needed him either, had he? He hadn’t cared… .

  Maybe because he hadn’t known.

  “As
a matter of fact, I like your grandmother. That’s why I hired Tuck. When I happened on him late one night, he’d had a flat tire. He didn’t have a spare or money or a credit card, and his phone was dead. So he accepted my offer to haul him to a service station and buy him a new tire on the condition that he become my pool and errand boy and work it off.”

  “I see through your Good Samaritan act.”

  “I was sort of suspicious about it myself.”

  “You’re just using Tuck to get at me in some way. So go,” she whispered. “You are the last person I want involved with my family, especially with Tuck, who’s extremely vulnerable.”

  “Well, sorry if my return to Bonne Terre upsets you, or if Tuck’s being my employee bothers you,” he said, not sounding the least apologetic. “But since I’ve got business in this town for some time to come, and Tuck works for me, I suppose you and I were bound to meet again…sooner or later.”

  “Gambling? Is that your business?”

  “Yes. What of it? You’re an actress, someone skilled at weaving seductive illusions. You sure seduced me with your little act. And I let you off easy. You should feel lucky. I’m not known for lenience with people who betray me.”

  Easy? Lucky? New Orleans lay like a weight on her heart.

  “All you see is your side.”

  “I was the one who damn near got strung up because of your lies,” he said. “I’m the one who’s still found guilty every time some reporter decides to write another story about us.”

  “Well, maybe you don’t know everything!” She stopped. She would never make the mistake of trying to confide in him. But despite her best intentions, she said, “You…you can’t believe I ever wanted to accuse you, not when I begged you to run off with me, and when it was my idea to…”

  “To seduce me?” he finished.

  His silky whisper and the intense fire in his black eyes rubbed her nerves raw.

  “It wasn’t like that and you know it. I…I couldn’t help it if Thurman hated you for what I did.”

  “Let’s not kid ourselves. You did what you did. I don’t give a damn anymore about why you did it.”

  Shame and some darker emotion she didn’t want him to sense scorched her cheeks as she turned away from the coldness in his face. “If I could have undone what I did or said, or what I caused people to believe about you, I would have.”