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A Compromising Affair
A Compromising Affair
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A Compromising Affair

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“Hi, Scott. You want Denise’s number?”

“Yes, please. I didn’t ask her for it after our date.” She gave him the telephone number. “Thanks, Pamela. I’ll be in touch.”

He hung up, dialed Denise’s number, and when she answered, he got straight to the point. “Good morning, Denise. I hope you slept well. No wonder I didn’t remember where we met. You made me mad as hell!” Scott said, barely taking a breath.

“Would you mind explaining to me why you attacked me at that dinner party? Do you remember being a smart-ass and taking me to task, someone you didn’t know anything about? You embarrassed me. For days, I fumed over your indictment of me. What do you have to say about this?”

“Scott, I’m stunned,” said Denise. “I had forgotten all about that. I suppose at the time I didn’t think I was out of line. Two years ago, I was deeply involved in programs to improve our environment. I’m certain that I wouldn’t do the same thing today.”

“But why on earth did you attack me?”

“I don’t know. For one thing, you seemed to ignore me when I tried to start a conversation with you about the environment, effectively dismissing me, and I was hurt. I guess I went for the jugular. Am I forgiven?”

“I don’t know. I’m not sure.”

“If you’re not sure, why did you kiss me last night?”

“That certainly wasn’t what I call a kiss. At the time, Denise, I hadn’t figured out why I had reservations about you. And I also hadn’t made up my mind.”

“Not only are you brash, you’re brutally honest, as well. Have you made up your mind yet?”

“Try not to ask me a question if you don’t want the answer. I want a lot more, but I believe in being cautious.”

“Are you planning on dropping things right now? I mean, are you still so angry with me—the me you went out to dinner with last night—now that you know me?”

“You really turned me off that night. The woman I met recently is so different that I really don’t know what to make of it. Suppose we leave things as they are for the time being. Have a wonderful weekend. Goodbye.”

Denise stared at the receiver in her hand. He’d hung up without waiting for her to say goodbye, and that meant he was still angry. She’d barely remembered her criticism of him, or that she’d done it because he’d ignored her. Why, he’d barely spared her a glance.

Suddenly, she started to giggle, and then she was consumed with laughter. Two years before, she was passionate about the environment. She’d believed that since men had gotten the world into its current predicament, they should step aside and allow women to correct their mistakes. That was then.

Scott probably had little patience with aggressive women, but he seemed to like women who were soft and smart.

She sat down at the kitchen table to eat her breakfast. Priscilla served the coffee and joined her. “Ma’am, how was your date with Ambassador Galloway? He’s a great catch, and he knows how to treat a woman.”

“I know, Priscilla. But if he isn’t interested in me, nothing will happen. I may genuflect to my father, but not to any other man.”

Priscilla looked at her. “You expect me to believe he didn’t ask you out again? I thought it was him that called you this morning.”

“It was.” She related to Priscilla what had happened with Scott two years earlier. “He’s still mad at me,” she said. “He didn’t remember what I said to him until after our date.”

“What a pity! He likes you a lot.”

“Or rather, he did. But I am not planning to get any gray hairs over it.”

“Well, what you gon’ do?”

“God didn’t make just one of him. There’s gotta be at least one more,” said Denise.

“Well, I guess you know what you’re doing,” Priscilla said.

Denise finished breakfast, brushed her teeth and went to her home office, which was at the top of the stairs overlooking a small brook that fed downstream into the Monocacy River. The phone rang before she could begin recording notes that she made for her secretary, who came in twice a week.

She checked the caller ID. “Hi, Pamela.”

“Hi. Can you come over Friday for the weekend? We’re entertaining a client Friday evening. The brothers handed him the key to a new apartment complex a few days ago. Whenever they finish a building, they usually entertain the client. Please come. We want you to be here.”

“I suppose it’s a dressy affair.”

“Why, yes. We’ll start with cocktails at about five-thirty.”

“Is Scott Galloway going to be there, too?”

“Well, I don’t know whether he’ll be over here for the weekend. But if he is, he is certainly welcome.”

“It’s not important, Pamela. Things didn’t go so well with us. I thought our date was wonderful, and I think he did, too, until he remembered what I said to him at that reception.”

“Yes, I know about that. But honey, if he was angry with you for two long years, then he must have been attracted to you. No man stays mad that long with a woman who means nothing to him. Trust me.”

“If you say so, Pamela. But you know I don’t have a lot of patience. The problem is I like Scott a heck of a lot.”

“Not to worry. Drake made a date with me for the express purpose of telling me that he wanted to move on. We’ve been married going on two years.”

“I’m very attracted to Scott, but I’m not going to prostrate myself. No way!”

“And that’s a good thing, because it would probably turn him off. See you Friday afternoon. Bye”

“Right. I’ll be there around four. Bye.” She hung up and propped her elbow on her desk. She knew Pamela wouldn’t lie to her. But Denise also knew that the minute Pamela hung up, she’d called Heather and tell her that if Scott was spending the weekend with them, have him phone her. Just the move she needed. She wasn’t going to chase him, but she damn sure was not going to avoid him.

Denise knew her friend well. At that moment, Pamela was talking to Heather. “They’re not getting along so well, but I’ve known Denise practically all of my life, and she likes Scott. But her pride won’t allow her to concede to him. Will he be here this weekend?”

“He’s here every weekend for as long as he’s staying at the Willard. I’d better tell him about the reception and—”

“Let me call him,” Pamela said. “I want to invite him personally. That way, I’ll be sure he’s coming.” Heather gave her Scott’s office number, and she dialed it.

“Hello, Scott, this is Pamela Harrington. We’re having a reception for one of the Harringtons’ clients this Friday at five-thirty, and we’d love you to come.”

“Thanks. I’ll be out there anyway. What kind of client is he…or she?” She told him. “Is the party business casual or black tie?”

“Black tie, but it’s summer, so—”

“Not to worry, Pamela. I’ll put together a comfortable summer monkey suit. Will Denise be there?”

Of course she’d known that he’d ask, and she had her answer ready. “She’s our houseguest. Scott, Denise is like my sister. Our families are very close, so we’ve been friends for a long time.”

“Interesting. Thanks for the invitation. I’ll see you Friday. Give Drake my regards.”

“Will do. Bye.”

She called Heather. “Is it all right to have dancing at a party that ends at nine o’clock?”

“Why not? Play some classics, and everyone will be dancing. Uh, why do you want dancing?”

“If other couples are dancing, how is Scott going to avoid asking Denise to dance?”

“You don’t know Scott,” Heather said. “Still, it’s definitely worth a try. Is your guest married?”

“Yes.”

“Thank God for that. He won’t be in the picture. I’ll be over Thursday evening to help. I won’t be able to leave the office until around four, but I’ll be over there as soon as I can get home and change.”

Dressed in an off-white dinner jacket, white shirt, black tuxedo pants, black bow tie and black patent-leather shoes, Scott rang the doorbell on Drake Harrington’s door at exactly five-thirty that Friday afternoon. Alone. He could have done without such intense heat in early July, but the prospect of seeing Denise and of meeting her on neutral ground made being dressed up in unbearable heat bearable. Drake answered the bell almost as soon as he rang.

“I’m glad you could come, Scott. It’s good to have you here,” Drake said. “Come with me. I want you to meet our guests. Ambassador Galloway, this is Alfred Rimes. My brothers and I have just completed a housing complex consisting of four seventeen-story buildings for Mr. Rimes. We’re celebrating. Alfred, Ambassador Galloway has just finished a tour in Lithuania with the State Department.”

The two men greeted each other, and Scott did his best to concentrate on their conversation. “The Harringtons are exemplary in every respect,” Rimes said. “I’ve hired a lot of construction companies, but none with so much integrity and professionalism and so few delays as I had working with the Harrington brothers. They’re first class.”

“Yes,” Scott said, listening for the sound of Denise’s voice. “They have an enviable reputation.”

Alfred Rimes did a double take, and Scott turned his gaze in the direction of where Rimes was looking. It seemed as if she floated toward him, her body barely sheathed in a long, slightly loose, sleeveless dusty-rose silk dress with a slit that stopped above the knee. The neckline revealed enough of her bare breasts to make his mouth water.

Pamela steered her friend toward Alfred Rimes. “Denise Miller, this is Alfred Rimes, our guest. And of course, you know Ambassador Galloway.

“I’m glad to meet you, Mr. Rimes.” She turned to Scott. “Hi. I was so glad when Pamela told me you were coming.”

He glanced around, caught Drake’s eye and signaled him to join them, since they shouldn’t leave the guest of honor alone. “And I was certainly pleased when I learned that you would be here, too,” Scott said.

When Drake joined them, Scott said to Rimes, “I enjoyed talking with you, Mr. Rimes. Would you excuse us, please?”

Figuring that Drake would understand, he cradled Denise’s elbow and walked with her toward the dining room. “I’ve been here a few times, but I don’t remember which door leads to the sunporch.”

As if she’d done so every day for years, she took his hand and walked with him to the small hallway between the breakfast room and the dining room. At the end of the hall, she reached across him and opened the door. Fire blazed through his body when her breast grazed his right arm. He could have sworn she wasn’t wearing a bra, as he felt her nipple. And it was hard. Damn!

They stood in the air-conditioned, glass-enclosed porch not saying a word, quietly watching the sunset as they continued to hold hands. He didn’t want to say anything. Talk was not what he needed. He needed her.

She broke the silence. “Are you still mad at me, Scott? I really don’t want you to be angry with me. I hardly know that woman who was rude to you back then. If you’re still upset with me, I’m going inside.”

“I’m not upset with you, and I’m not mad at you.”

“Then what is it?”

He let his gaze travel from her feet to the top of her head. “You are so beautiful, so…so—”

“So what?” she asked with a twinge of apprehension in her voice.

“Listen, I told you never to ask me a question unless you want the answer.”

“I want the answer.”

“Desirable. When I look at you, think about you, I… Oh, hell, let’s go back inside.”

“Does this mean you don’t want to be friends? All you have to do is make it clear, Scott, and I won’t waste your time or mine.”

“I like confident women…confident people, for that matter. But I’m not impressed by a woman who wants me to think she doesn’t need anyone. Besides, for you, it isn’t true.”

“How do you know that?”

“I know when a woman wants me, and you ought to know, without being told, when a man wants you. Let’s go inside. I suspect Pamela is serving the food about now.” He took her hand and walked back inside holding it. He liked holding her hand, but he was also holding it to show Alfred Rimes that if he went after Denise, he’d have some serious competition.

Scott led Denise to the buffet table, took two plates, as he’d done that Sunday at the barbecue, and asked her what she would like. “Maybe I can help you avoid getting something on this lovely dress.”

“Thanks. I’d love the shrimp and crab cakes, some of those little biscuits and some asparagus.”

He served her plate, added several cherry tomatoes and handed it to her. I am not being protective or possessive, he said to himself. Can I help it if I want to do something for her? He put the same food on his plate and added a slice of ham. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Alfred Rimes watching him.

Too bad, buddy. You’ve got a ring on the third finger of your left hand. You are too old for her and, besides, she’s with me. It was a mean-spirited thought, but that’s the way it was.

Telford walked to the center of the room, clapped his hands together and got everyone’s attention. “Thank you all for coming to meet one of our favorite clients. The Rimes Mansions are now open, and they’re dream homes. Russ outdid himself with the design of those buildings, and Drake elegantly finished them. And don’t forget to patronize the businesses in the adjoining Rimes complex. Now, enjoy the food, the drinks and the music. And please dance, if the spirit so moves you.”

Having been instructed by Pamela and Heather, Telford switched on the CD player, walked over to his wife, Alexis, and opened his arms. She swayed into them, and they danced like a couple of newly acquainted lovers to the sound of the Luther Vandross song “Here and Now.”

Scott rested his plate on the nearby table, his appetite gone. The way Alexis looked at her husband—telling Scott and everyone who cared to see that she loved Telford and only him—shook Scott to his core. She communicated it to her husband with the look in her eyes and the yielding of her body. It reminded him of how lonely he was and how empty his life was of things that mattered so much to him. He closed his eyes and steadied himself.

“Are you all right?” Denise’s soft voice penetrated his thoughts.

“I’m fine.” But he wasn’t, and he did not care to share his feelings with her, or with anyone. But he looked into the tender, caring eyes with which she observed him, and faced his need for her. “Dance with me, Denise?”

When she opened her arms, he brought her closer to him and stood there holding her and looking into her eyes. Uncontrollable shudders raced through his body, but he stiffened his back and began to dance, moving slowly and rhythmically, knowing at last the delight of holding her close. They moved as if the sweetness of her body in his arms had always been his to savor. The song changed, and the sound of Lester Young playing his saxophone to the tune of “(Back Home Again In) Indiana” was music to his ears. He didn’t want to hear any more slow love songs, at least not then, not with a bundle of warmth in his arms. Denise seemed content, no matter what kind of music played. And when one of Laurindo Almeida’s blazing Brazilian bossa nova tunes filled the room, he let himself go. To his amazement, she danced with him as if they had danced together for years. When the piece ended, he heard the applause; he hadn’t noticed that they were the only ones dancing.

“You’re a wonderful dancer,” Denise said.

“No more so than you,” he replied. “I had to learn those steps when I was in high school, or Judson would have gotten all the girls.”

She winked. “Judson has his good qualities. But he can’t outshine you. No way, no how.”

“Something tells me you mean that.”

“It’s not just flattery, Scott. And while we’re on the subject, you’re a knockout in this tux.”

“Thanks, I think. Let’s go get a drink, since neither of us has to drive.”

“My goodness, you’re shy,” she said jokingly.

“It’s almost nine, and my invitation said five-thirty to nine, so I’ll leave a few minutes to nine. I’d like to call you tomorrow morning, if I may.”

“I’ll be happy to hear from you.”

“I enjoyed this time with you, Denise.”