Читать онлайн книгу «Her Secret, His Duty» автора Carla Cassidy

Her Secret, His Duty
Carla Cassidy
New York Times bestselling author Carla Cassidy writes about a scandal–and a passion–that could be front-page news…When Debra Prentice discovers she's pregnant, she knows two things are true: that she can't wait to become a mother…and that she can never reveal the father's identity to anyone. Because not only is Trey Winston her boss's son, he's also got his eye on the North Carolina senator's seat–and he doesn't need a scandal.But when Debra must work with Trey in organizing his fund-raising dinner, the sparks from their one night of passion still sizzle. Trey knows he should stay away from Debra, but it soon becomes impossible. And as Debra's life is threatened, Trey promises to keep her–and, unknowingly, the baby she carries–safe.


New York Times bestselling author Carla Cassidy writes about a scandal—and a passion—that could be front-page news…
When Debra Prentice discovers she’s pregnant, she knows two things are true: that she can’t wait to become a mother…and that she can never reveal the father’s identity to anyone. Because not only is Trey Winston her boss’s son, he’s also got his eye on the North Carolina senator’s seat—and he doesn’t need a scandal.
But when Debra must work with Trey in organizing his fund-raising dinner, the sparks from their one night of passion still sizzle. Trey knows he should stay away from Debra, but it soon becomes impossible. And as Debra’s life is threatened, Trey promises to keep her—and, unknowingly, the baby she carries—safe.
“Come dance with me.”
Trey’s eyes twinkled brightly as he pulled Debra to the dance floor and into his arms. She leaned closer to him.
Trey smiled down at her. His hand on her back was strong and masterful as they took off across the dance floor. “You look amazing tonight,” he said.
“Thank you,” she replied, hoping he couldn’t hear the loud thunder of her heartbeat. She wanted to dip her head into the hollow of his throat, feel his body scandalously close against hers. “Your speech was pretty amazing, too.”
He laughed. “We’ll see about that by the campaign donations that appear in the next few weeks. If nothing else, it seems that everyone has had a wonderful time tonight. My only regret is that I haven’t had a chance to dance with you before now.”
She raised her head to gaze up at him, and in his blue eyes she saw what she felt—desire and want and everything that shouldn’t have been in those blue depths.
Dear Reader,
It’s always exciting to kick off a new series, and The Adair Legacy promises to have it all—hot heroes, strong heroines, plenty of secrets and danger all set against a background of politics.
The Winston family is extraordinary, with a strong mother and three brothers who share not only a family bond of love, but also enough dysfunction to crank up the intrigue.
I loved writing the story of eldest brother Trey, a strong man with a dream, and Debra, his mother’s assistant, who threatens everything Trey believed he’d wanted in his life. I hope you enjoy reading their story.
Thanks and keep reading!
Best,
Carla Cassidy
Her Secret,
His Duty
Carla Cassidy


www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
CARLA CASSIDY
is a New York Times bestselling and award-winning author who has written more than one hundred books for Harlequin. In 1995 she won Best Silhouette Romance from RT Book Reviews for Anything for Danny. In 1998 she won a Career Achievement Award for Best Innovative Series from RT Book Reviews.
Carla believes the only thing better than curling up with a good book to read is sitting down at the computer with a good story to write. She’s looking forward to writing many more books and bringing hours of pleasure to readers.
Contents
Chapter 1 (#u057bd2fe-132b-5a04-bfbf-60a2a9040b50)
Chapter 2 (#u1f689a08-cd7c-5fbd-8dd0-53d104828d46)
Chapter 3 (#u16473dcb-13d4-5d8c-ba20-c579a9726863)
Chapter 4 (#u15779eb0-24db-577b-b44c-d9c71e284fe4)
Chapter 5 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 6 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 7 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 8 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 9 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 10 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 11 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 12 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 13 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 14 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 15 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 16 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 17 (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 1
“Impossible.” The single word escaped Debra Prentice’s lips in disbelieving horror as she stared at the three separate pregnancy tests lined up like little soldiers on her bathroom vanity.
Not one, not two, but three tests and each showing a positive sign. Undeniable results that her brain tried to absorb.
Pregnant. There was no question now that she was pregnant. She’d wondered about it when she was late with her period, but had written it off as stress. She’d been late in the past.
Pregnant. How was it possible? Even as the question formed in her mind, memories of a single night six weeks ago gave her the answer.
An unexpected encounter, too many drinks and a mad dash to a nearby hotel room where she’d found complete abandon with a man she had no business being with at all.
Her cheeks burned as she remembered the awkward morning after. Gazes not meeting as they both hurriedly dressed and then the humiliating ride in a cab from the hotel to her front door. And now this, the icing on a cake that should have never been baked in the first place. Pregnant.
A glance at the small clock in the bathroom forced a gasp from her. If she didn’t hurry she’d be late to work, and in all the years that Debra had worked as personal secretary and assistant to Kate Adair Winston, she had never been late to work.
She got up and tossed the tests into the trash, then gave herself a quick glance in the bathroom mirror. The slim black pencil skirt she wore didn’t display a hint of her current condition but the red tailored button-up blouse only emphasized the paleness of her face, a paleness that the results of the tests had surely created.
Her light brown hair was already attempting to escape the twisted bun she’d trapped it in earlier, but she didn’t have time to fix it now.
She left the bathroom, deciding that she couldn’t, she wouldn’t think about her pregnancy right now. She had a little time to figure things out, but right now she had to get her brain in work mode.
She pulled on a black winter coat and grabbed her purse, then left her two-story townhouse and headed for her car parked at the curb. There was parking behind the townhouse, but she rarely used it, preferring the convenience of curbside parking instead.
The January air was bracing, hovering right around the freezing mark. Thankfully the sky was bright blue and she didn’t have to worry about snow or sleet.
The townhouse was located just off Glenwood Avenue in the uptown district of Raleigh, North Carolina. It was Debra’s pride and joy, bought two years ago after years of renting. She loved the area, loved the fact that she could paint walls and hang pictures without getting a landlord’s approval. It was cozy and filled with all the colors and textiles she loved.
Once inside the car she checked the clock. It was just after seven, but she still had to maneuver morning traffic to get to North Raleigh where the Winston Estate was located.
Every morning in the capital city of North Carolina the morning rush traffic was bad, but on this Wednesday morning it seemed particularly heavy.
Or, maybe it was the racing of her thoughts that made the ride feel longer and more difficult than usual. Even though it was unplanned and unexpected there was no doubt in her mind that she would keep the baby. For her, that decision was a no-brainer.
She would just need to keep the father’s identity to herself for the rest of her life. She would let the people close to her assume that the baby was Barry’s, the snake-in-the-grass boyfriend who had broken up with her on the night she’d been in that restaurant bar, the same night she’d done something completely out of character.
But, there was no question in her mind who the father was because she hadn’t been pregnant when she and Barry had broken up and she was pregnant now. There had only been that single night of utter madness to account for her current condition.
She steered her thoughts away from the pregnancy as she approached her workplace. The impressive Winston Estate was located on two acres of lush, meticulously manicured grounds.
Built in 1975, the six-bedroom, nine-bath white-and-red brick house also boasted a beautiful swimming pool, a backyard area around the pool big enough for entertaining and a small guest house where Kate’s security, a Secret Service detail, worked from.
The front entrance boasted a large black iron gate that was opened only when security and Kate allowed. The entire estate was fenced in except for a side entrance through which staff and service vehicles came and went.
Debra turned into the access entrance and waved to Jeff Benton, part of the security team that kept Kate and her family safe when the former vice president was in the house.
Debra pulled into a parking spot specifically for staff and hurriedly got out of the car. She entered the house through a side door that led into a large, empty mudroom and then into the huge kitchen where at the moment fresh coffee and cinnamon were the predominant scents.
None of the help was in the large, airy room that had the latest cooking equipment, but Sam Winston, Kate’s thirty-three-year-old middle son, sat at a small table next to a window with a cup of coffee before him.
“Good morning, Sam,” she said tentatively. Since Sam’s return from overseas where he’d served in Army Special Forces, he’d been distant, at times downright unpleasant, and she never knew exactly what to expect from him when they happened to run into each other.
He looked up from his coffee, his blue eyes dark and unreadable. “Morning,” he replied and then shifted his gaze back into the depths of his cup, obviously not encouraging any further conversation.
Debra passed through the kitchen and entered the main foyer. As always, her breath was half stolen from her by the beauty of the black-and-white marble floors and the exquisite winding wooden staircase that led up to the second level.
Beyond the foyer were Kate’s official office and a doorway right next to it that led to Debra’s much smaller office. She knew that Kate didn’t usually go into her office to begin her day until sometime after eight, but that didn’t mean Debra didn’t have things to do before Kate made her official appearance.
Debra’s office was small but efficient with a desk that held a computer, a multifunctional printer and memo pads. A wooden five-drawer file cabinet sat nearby on the right wall. The other wall was a white dry-erase area that took up the left side of the room, where she kept track of Kate’s ever-busy, ever-changing social calendar with dry-erase markers in a variety of colors.
She closed the door, took off her coat and hung it in the tiny closet that stored extra paper and printer supplies and then sat at the desk and powered up her computer.
There was only one personal item in the whole room. It was a framed picture that hung on the wall, a photo of Debra with a Parisian street vendor who sold hot croissants and coffee from a colorful cart just down the block from the U.S. Embassy in Paris.
Debra had lived in Paris for the two years that Kate had served as U.S. ambassador to France. It had been an amazing experience for Debra. She’d learned some of the language, wandered the streets on her time off and breathed in the local ambiance.
When Kate’s time in that position had ended and it was time to return to the states, Debra hadn’t wanted the usual souvenirs of a picture or a miniature statue of the famous Eiffel Tower.
She’d wanted a photo of herself and Pierre, the charming Frenchman who had begun her mornings with a bright smile, a hot croissant and a cup of steaming café au lait. A fellow staffer had taken the photo and Debra had brought it into a local craft store to have it enlarged and framed.
The time in France had been wonderful, but that was then and this was now. Pregnant. She was pregnant. She couldn’t quite wrap her mind around it yet, but she knew one thing for sure, once the baby was born her life would be irrevocably changed.
She shoved the thought away and instead focused on her morning work. It took twenty minutes to go through her emails, deleting spam that had managed to get through the filter, marking messages to forward to Kate and answering those that didn’t require her boss’s attention.
Once the email was finished, she moved to the file folder on her desk that held a stack of invitations for Kate. As a former U.S. ambassador and vice president, Kate was invited to hundreds of events each week.
As Debra looked at each one, she made a list of who, what and where for each event that required a response in the next week or so. The social calendar Debra kept on the wall was an ever-morphing, color-coded animal that required constant attention.
There were rumors that Kate was being groomed to run for president in the next election and she was already being courted by special-interest groups and powerful party movers and shakers.
So far she hadn’t mentioned her plans to anyone, but Debra suspected the idea of becoming the first female president of the United States was definitely appealing. Kate had a reputation as a loving mother, a family-oriented person, but Debra knew she was also a woman of great convictions about how the country should move forward in the coming years.
It was just after eight when a familiar soft knock sounded on Debra’s door. She grabbed her memo pad and left her desk. It was their routine; Kate knocked to let Debra know she was now in her office and it was time for a morning update.
At fifty-eight years old, Kathleen Adair Winston was an attractive woman with short, stylish light brown hair and blue eyes that radiated honesty, kindness and intelligence. Debra had worked for her long enough to know that she also possessed a will of steel, a slight streak of stubbornness and a love of her family that was enviable.
This morning she was dressed in a pair of tailored navy slacks and a pale blue blouse that emphasized the bright hue of her eyes. Her jewelry was tasteful, a wedding ring despite the fact that she was a widow and a silver necklace with matching earrings.
“Good morning, Debra.” Her smile was warm, and adoration for the woman who had been her boss since she’d been a college graduate swelled up inside Debra.
“Good morning to you, Kate,” she replied and took the chair opposite the large ornate desk where Kate sat. “Did you sleep well?”
“I always sleep well,” Kate replied. “It seems the days are too long and the nights are far too short for my taste.”
Debra nodded and smiled and then got down to business. “I have several pressing things we need to discuss this morning,” she said.
It took nearly forty-five minutes for Debra to update Kate and get confirmation or regrets on the invitations that required answers.
When they had finished that particular task, Kate leaned back in her chair and sipped the coffee she must have carried with her into the office. “You look tired,” she said. “Did you not sleep well last night?”
Debra stared at her in surprise. Did it already show somehow on her face? Did newly discovered pregnancy make a woman look tired the day she realized she was pregnant?
“Nothing to worry about,” Debra said, pleased that her voice sounded normal. “I did do a lot of tossing and turning last night. I think it was indigestion, but I’m sure I’ll sleep fine tonight.”
“Anything in particular on your mind?”
Debra smiled with a forced brightness. “Yes, I’m wondering along with the rest of the world if my boss intends to make a run for the presidency.”
Deflect, she thought. She had always been good about making the conversation about other people rather than about herself.
“Your boss still hasn’t made up her mind,” Kate replied ruefully. She turned in her chair and stared at the wall that held an array of family photos. Most of them were of Kate with her three handsome sons.
“Although I know I need to come to a decision in the next couple of weeks. It’s a long, arduous process to begin a campaign, but the men who have already thrown their hats in the ring are not what the country needs right now. I do believe I’d do a better job than any of them, but I also realize the price I’d be asking my family to pay if I decide to become an official candidate,” she said as she turned back to look at Debra.
“You’ll make the right decision,” Debra said confidently. “You always do. Either way, you’ll do what’s best for both your family and the country.”
Kate flashed her the bright smile that had been her trademark both when she’d served her four years as vice president and as a beloved ambassador to France. “You’re the special secret in my pocket, Debra. There are days that your efficiency and loyalty are responsible for my very sanity. Thank goodness you possess the organizational skills that keep me on track.”
“I have a feeling you’d be just fine without me, but I love what I do, and now I’d better get back to my office and take care of the RSVPs on these invitations.” Debra stood. “You’ll let me know if there’s anything else I can do for you. You have nothing on your calendar for the day so hopefully you can give yourself a break and just relax a bit.”
“Maybe.” Kate stood and carried her coffee to the window that looked out on a lovely garden.
Debra left the room aware that Kate didn’t know how to relax—until she made up her mind about the next presidential election, she would worry and stew, weigh pros and cons, until she made a final decision about what her future would hold.
Debra didn’t even want to think about her own future. She knew that the first thing she needed to do was see a doctor. She’d try to schedule an appointment with her gynecologist for the weekend to confirm what she already knew.
In the meantime, day by day—that’s how she would have to take things right now. She’d scarcely had time to process the reality of her condition.
Eventually her pregnancy would show and she’d have some explaining to do, but until that day came she had to focus on her work.
She remained at her desk until just after eleven when Kate used the intercom to call her back into her office. Debra grabbed her notepad and reentered Kate’s office, only to stop short at the sight of the ridiculously handsome man seated in the chair she had vacated earlier.
Trey Winston was not only incredibly handsome with his rich dark brown hair and striking blue eyes, he was also the CEO of Adair Enterprises, the family business, a rich and powerful man who was well liked by his employees and friends. He was also the father of the baby Debra carried.
* * *
“Here we are,” Kate said as Debra entered the room. She gestured her assistant to the chair next to Trey’s. Trey offered Debra a faint, rather uncomfortable smile.
Uncomfortable. That’s the way things had been for him whenever he saw Debra after the crazy one night they’d spent together—a night that should never have happened.
He’d been at the popular bar/restaurant celebrating the close of a big business deal and she’d been there commiserating a breakup with her boyfriend. The two of them had somehow hooked up, shared too many drinks and then had continued to make the mistake of heading to a nearby hotel and having hot, passionate sex.
He hadn’t been too drunk to know what he was doing and neither had she, but he should never have allowed it to happen at all.
He’d spent the past six weeks putting it out of his mind, trying to pretend that it had never happened. Unfortunately, trying to forget had been difficult.
His mother would kill him if she found out. Kate would give him a motherly smackdown to end all smackdowns if she believed he had taken advantage of her assistant, a young woman he knew his mother loved and trusted.
“Trey has just informed me that I’m not the only political beast in the family,” Kate said once Debra was seated next to Trey. “He’s thinking about running for the Senate.”
Debra looked at him in surprise and then quickly averted her gaze back to Kate. “I’m sure he’d make a fine senator.”
“You know that and I know that, but what we need to do is see how much support he would be able to get behind him,” Kate replied.
Trey could see the wheels turning in his mother’s head. Of all the people in his life, Trey trusted his mother more than anyone. He’d been flirting with the idea of entering politics for some time and finally felt the time was right now.
“What do you have in mind?” Debra asked.
Her voice was sweet and soft, but Trey had memories of husky moans and sighs of pleasure. He also couldn’t help but notice and remember the fresh, clean scent of her, so unlike the cloying perfumes most of the women in his social circle wore.
“A fund-raiser dinner party.” Kate’s words snapped Trey back to the matter at hand. “And we’d need to get it scheduled and on the calendar in the next two weeks.”
“Two weeks?” Debra sounded horrified as she stared at Kate. “But that’s impossible.”
“Nonsense. Nothing is impossible,” Kate replied confidently, “especially if you’re in charge. You’ve set up these kinds of things a thousand times for me in the past, Debra.”
“But not in less than a month,” she protested.
Trey watched the interplay between Debra and his mother, knowing no matter how the conversation went the dinner would get done in two weeks’ time. Kate usually got her way and Debra was one of the most efficient women Trey had ever known.
“I’ll have Haley step in and do most of the work you normally do for me,” Kate said, mentioning one of her senior interns. “That will free you up to work closely with Trey to get this done. I recommend you both go into the sitting room right now and figure out a specific date and a venue. Let’s get this thing rolling.”
Trey could tell that this was probably the last thing on earth that Debra wanted to do. He could see her reluctance as she slowly stood from her chair, in the small crease that darted across her forehead.
He wasn’t exactly thrilled by the idea of working closely with his one-night stand, either. But, he also knew that if anyone could pull this event off on time and with flair, it was Debra Prentice.
They could work together, he told himself as he followed her slender frame into the informal sitting area at the back of the house. All they had to do was continue doing what they had been doing for the past six weeks: pretend that crazy night they had shared hadn’t happened.
“I didn’t realize she was going to pull you into this,” he said as she sat in one of the plush, comfortable beige chairs and he sank down on the sofa opposite her.
The family sitting room was large, with floor to ceiling windows on one side and comfortable, yet attractive furnishings. A bar was located at the back of the room and doors led out to the patio and pool area.
It was in this room that the family had often come together to discuss problems or simply to enjoy each other’s company and catch up on busy lives.
“My job is to do whatever Kate needs done and since this is important to you, it’s important to her.” She stared down at her notepad. “The first thing we need to do is find a venue. With less than a month lead time that might be a problem. Do you have any place specific in mind?” Her vivid green eyes finally made contact with him.
“I was thinking maybe the Raleigh Regent or the Capital Hotel,” he suggested. “Both places are popular for such events.”
“That’s the problem.” That tiny crease deepened again across her forehead. “I’m fairly sure that the Capital Hotel ballroom will be impossible to get at this late date. I’ll check with the Regent and see what’s available. Last I heard the ballroom was undergoing some renovations and I’m not certain if they are complete or not. I’m still not sure I’m going to be able to make this happen so soon. I’m assuming you want a Saturday night?”
“Or a Friday night would be fine,” he replied. He watched as she made several notes on the pad. Debra Prentice wasn’t a knockout kind of woman, but she also didn’t play up her pretty features. She wore little makeup and her hair always looked as if it had been tortured into a position at the back of her head that it couldn’t possibly hold.
Still, he knew that her light brown hair was incredibly silky and that she had a cute, perfectly proportioned figure that had fit perfectly in his arms. He knew how her eyes sparkled while in the throes of passion and exactly how her lips tasted.
“Trey?” Her eyes held a touch of impatience, making him realize she must have tried to get his attention while he’d been lost in thought.
“Sorry. What was the question?”
“How many people are you expecting to invite?”
“Two hundred or maybe two hundred and fifty,” he replied.
“Pick a number,” she said with a light edge to her voice. “I need a specific number to tell the event planner when we settle where this is going take place.”
“Two hundred and fifty,” he said firmly.
She nodded. “I’ll need the guest list from you as soon as possible. Invitations will have to go out in the next couple of days or so. Thank goodness it’s January and there isn’t much else going on around town.” She wrote a couple more notes on her pad and then met his gaze again. “I think that’s all I need from you to get started. By the end of the day I’ll have a list of dates and places for you to consider.”
She stood as if dismissing him, her body instantly poised to run back to her little office.
“Then tomorrow let’s make arrangements to see some of the venues together,” he said as he also stood. “And I’ll want to be with you when you speak to the event planner. We’ll need to pick the menu and make decisions on a number of other things.”
It was obvious he’d surprised her. She’d probably just assumed everything would be left up to her. But Trey freely admitted that he was something of a control freak. He couldn’t run Adair Enterprises and be as successful as he’d been without being detail oriented and on top of every element in his life.
“I just assumed...” Her voice trailed off.
“This is important to me, Debra. Assume that I’ll be at your side every step of the way until this dinner party is over.”
Her eyes widened slightly and then she gave him a curt, professional nod. “Then I’ll call you later this evening and we’ll make arrangements for tomorrow.”
She left the sitting room and Trey sank back into the chair, his thoughts a riot inside his head. He’d taken over the running of the family business when his grandfather had died. Walt Winston had mentored Trey and instilled in him the need to be the best that he could be.
It was Walt who’d wanted to see Trey in politics. The old man had even made a list of women he thought would be an asset in his quest for public office. At thirty-five years old, Trey knew it was time for him to marry. He also knew he’d make a more attractive candidate if he had a wife by his side.
With that thought in mind he’d dated dozens of women over the past year and finally eight months ago he’d begun to see Cecily McKenna exclusively.
Although he wasn’t madly in love with Cecily, he knew she’d make the perfect wife for him. She was a thirty-three-year-old heiress. Articulate, charming and beautiful, Cecily also possessed a fierce ambition not just for herself, but for him, as well.
He knew there were rumors swirling of an imminent engagement between him and Cecily, rumors he suspected Cecily had started herself. He smiled inwardly. He wouldn’t put it past her.
He looked up as Sam came into the room. “So, word has it that you’re joining the ranks of the sex-scandal-ridden, fake and crooked politicians of the world.” Sam threw himself into the chair that Debra had vacated.
It was obvious his brother was in one of his foul moods. “Actually, I’m hoping to do something good for the people of North Carolina.”
“That’s my big brother, the overachieving perfect son.”
Trey drew a steadying breath. He knew the man seated before him with the scowl on his handsome face wasn’t the brother, wasn’t the man who had left here to serve his country.
“Sam, why don’t you talk to me?” he asked softly. Sam had spent three months imprisoned overseas and months in a hospital recovering from the severe torture he’d endured while a prisoner. He had since been deemed unfit to return to duty and had been mad at the world ever since.
“I don’t need to talk to anyone,” Sam growled and got up from the chair. “I’m fine just the way I am.”
Trey watched helplessly, troubled for his brother as Sam left the room. Sam was a powder keg, but he refused to speak about his time in prison or what had been done to him. The scars he carried were deep and dark and Trey wished he’d share some of the horror with somebody...anybody who could help him heal.
Unfortunately, Sam wouldn’t be fixed until Sam wanted to be fixed and at the moment he appeared to be perfectly satisfied being angry.
Trey checked his watch and stood. It was time for him to get back to his own office. Now that he’d pretty much made up his mind to run for Senator, he didn’t want to just run, he wanted to win.
He also needed to call Cecily. He hadn’t even told her yet that he’d made up his mind to begin the process of gaining support and throwing his hat in the ring. She would be beyond thrilled. She’d been telling him for months that he was what the state needed, that he could do great things.
As he left the house he found himself wondering what Debra thought of his decision to run. Did she believe he was capable of doing great things?
Who cares what she thinks? he asked himself. All he needed from her was her skills at pulling together an event that would provide him a solid foundation on which to begin to build his campaign.
Chapter 2
Debra had suffered a crush on Trey Winston from the very first time she’d met him years ago. She’d always known he was out of her league, but her crush had never really diminished over the years.
She couldn’t help the fact that her heart always leapt a bit at the sight of him, that she often grew tongue-tied and clumsy in his presence. Even sharing the single night that they’d had together hadn’t changed her attraction to him; instead it had only deepened her feelings for Trey.
But, it didn’t matter what she felt about him because she knew that she was the last woman on earth he would ever want to have a public relationship with. He had his future neatly planned out with Cecily McKenna by his side.
As she drove to the Regent Hotel to meet both him and the hotel manager to discuss the event, she couldn’t halt the tingling nerves that fluttered through her veins at the thought of working with him so closely.
She knew he’d probably marry Cecily, a gorgeous heiress who had the social savvy and political chops to be an asset to him.
Debra also knew that she would be a definite liability to Trey. She’d been born out of wedlock. Her father, who had been a married CEO of a Fortune 500 company at the time, had never acknowledged her existence personally. In fact, Debra had been raised by her mother to never mention her father’s name, to never expect anything but a monthly support check in the mail from him.
When her mother died right after Debra’s graduation from college, she had met with her father for the first and the last time. She had requested one thing from him—she wanted him to use his influence to get her a job in the political arena, specifically with Kathleen Adair Winston. As one of Kate’s top contributors to her political campaign when she’d run for vice president, he had been instrumental in her attaining her position with Kate.
That’s the only thing Debra had ever asked from the man who had never been anything but a name on a check, but he hadn’t even managed to follow through on that. In recent years, there had been whispers of scandals within his company and talk of her father having some shady dealings.
Debra could crush on Trey all she wanted, but she knew she would only be an embarrassing one-night stand and right now a valuable tool to use to achieve his dreams. She would work her butt off to help him in his bid for a seat in the Senate. She wanted him to have his dream and she’d also do the best she could because Kate had asked her to.
She parked in front of the prestigious thirty-story hotel and looked at her watch. She was twenty minutes early for their ten-o’clock appointment so she remained in the car with the engine running and warm air blowing from the heater vents.
She’d been surprised when she’d called the hotel and discovered that the ballroom was available on a Friday night two weeks from now. Two weeks. Jeez, Kate must think she was some kind of magician.
But there had to be some magic at work for the ballroom not to already be booked, Debra thought.
Her hand fell to her stomach, caressing the place where she knew eventually there would be a baby bump, a bump that could potentially destroy Trey’s future plans.
Politics thrived on scandals and any of Trey’s adversaries would turn a simple night between two consenting adults into something ugly to use against him. Everyone knew he’d been seeing Cecily so that one-night stand would be a testimony to a lack of morals on both their parts. He would be painted with the same brush that had darkened his father’s Senate term.
Debra knew that neither of them lacked a moral compass. The night had simply gotten away from them, both of them making mistakes in judgment.
He would never know about the baby, although it broke her heart that she felt like she was somehow repeating a history she’d never wanted for any child of her own.
She loved the baby, despite the circumstances of the conception. She would be the best mother she could and maybe eventually she’d meet a man who wanted her and her child enough to form a family unit.
She checked her watch once again and then cut the car engine. She grabbed her purse with her electronic notepad inside and then got out of the car. She’d power dressed today in a stylish dark brown skirt and suit jacket with a beige blouse. Brown pumps adorned her feet and tiny gold hoop earrings were her only jewelry.
Drawing in several deep breaths as she walked to the hotel entrance, she shoved all thoughts from her mind except what needed to be here to do her job well.
She still couldn’t believe how lucky they had been that the Regent’s ballroom was available on a Friday night two weeks from now. Two weeks was the mere blink of an eye in planning the kind of event they intended to have.
Whenever possible, Debra used the hotel’s event planner, but the Regent had a new woman working in that position, somebody Debra had never worked with before. It wouldn’t take long for Debra to discern if the woman was adequately prepared to do the job they needed and if she wasn’t then Debra would bring in an event planner of her own.
Debra knew she had a reputation as being sweet and accommodating, but she could be a vicious shark when it was necessary to get what was best for the Winston family.
She went to the reservation desk and asked for Donald Rasworth, the hotel manager. She smelled Trey before she saw him, the expensive scent of a slightly spicy cologne that had clung intimately to her skin the morning after their wild, impetuous encounter.
She turned and nearly bumped into him. “Oh. You’re here,” she said.
He smiled. “Aren’t I supposed to be here?”
“Yes, but I just didn’t know that you were here... That you’d actually arrived...”
Thankfully she was rescued from her inane ramble by a tall slender man who approached them with a hand extended and a wide smile of welcome on his face.
“Mr. Winston,” he said as he grabbed Trey’s hand in a shake. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir. We’re hoping here at the Raleigh Regent that we can meet all your needs for whatever event you want to plan.”
Trey turned to Debra and introduced her. “This is the person you need to please,” Trey said. “She’s our special weapon when it comes to planning these things.”
“I understand you have a new event planner. Will she be joining us?” Debra asked.
“Stacy Boone and yes, she should be joining us at any moment.” He looked around the lobby, as if expecting the woman to be hiding behind a potted plant or an elegant column. “While we wait for her why don’t I go ahead and take you to our main ballroom and let you have a look around.”
One demerit for the late Stacy Boone, Debra thought as she followed behind the two men. Trey was clad in a navy suit with a matching shirt, and she couldn’t help but notice that he looked as good from the back as he did from the front.
Broad shoulders, slim waist and long legs, the man was definitely eye candy even without his confident stride and the aura of power that radiated from him.
A vision of his naked body flashed in her brain, causing her to stumble over a bump in the carpet that didn’t exist. Trey turned in time to put a hand on her shoulder to steady her. “Okay?” he asked with concern.
“I’m fine,” she assured him quickly. It was a relief when he dropped his hand from her. He was a warm and friendly man, a toucher by nature, but she didn’t want him touching her in any way. It evoked too many memories she definitely needed to forget.
They had just reached the ballroom’s double doors when a young blonde in a pink dress and high heels to heaven came rushing in. She carried a messy pile of paperwork and a smile of apology. “Sorry I’m late.” Her gaze landed on Trey and admiration filled her eyes. “I’m so sorry I’m late.”
Donald introduced the woman as Stacy, not only his new event planner but his favorite niece, as well. Uh-oh, Debra thought. She didn’t have any real problem with the nepotism, but Stacy looked very young and definitely had the aura of an airhead about her.
Even Trey looked slightly troubled as he said hello and then exchanged a quick glance with Debra. Debra returned a reassuring smile to him. She’d know within an hour if Stacy was up to the job or not and if she wasn’t then she’d be out and Debra would be working with somebody she knew could help her get this job done right.
Stacy led them into the ballroom and set her papers on a nearby table. “You’re lucky you called when you did. Most people don’t know yet that we just recently finished the renovation of the ballroom. New lighting, carpeting and wall covering. We also have the ability to remove the carpeting, which is actually big squares, in order to lay down a fantastic dance floor.”
“I like that,” Trey said with enthusiasm. “Dinner and dancing.”
“That means we’ll have to hire a small orchestra,” Debra said as she stifled an inward groan. She’d been so flustered yesterday when she’d initially met with Trey they hadn’t talked about the budget for this affair.
“Then we’ll hire an orchestra,” he replied breezily. “I want people leaving that night feeling good about their evening and me. Dancing after dinner definitely has to happen,” he replied.
“Then we’ll make it happen.” Debra pulled her tablet out of her purse and made notes to add to the computer file she’d started for Trey’s dinner party.
Stacy pulled a paper form from her stack and gestured for the three of them to sit at the single table just inside the room. Debra took off her coat and flung it across the back of her chair while Trey took off his overcoat and did the same.
As they began talking about the basic logistics, the date and time and how many would be attending, Stacy took notes and Trey leaned back in his chair and looked around the room, making Debra wonder what thoughts were tumbling around in his head.
Was he thinking about the dinner and maybe writing, in his head, the speech he’d give that night? Or perhaps he was mulling over how difficult the Senate race would be. The incumbent Senator William DeCrow was seeking another term and he was known to be a down and dirty fighter.
Thankfully, Trey had no dirt from his past or present that could be thrown on him, as long as nobody ever knew about their night together, as long as nobody ever knew about the baby she carried he should be fine.
Stacy might have flown in like an airhead, but when it got right down to business, she appeared to be savvy and eager to please, a perfect combination for getting things done properly.
“I can email you a variety of menus first thing tomorrow,” she said to Debra after they’d both signed a contract to rent the ballroom for the date. “And are we doing a cash or an open bar?”
“We’ll serve wine with dinner, but set up a cash bar,” Debra replied. Trey leaned forward and opened his mouth as if to protest, but Debra didn’t allow him.
“Cash bar,” she said firmly. “This night is supposed to be about you beginning to build a support base, not about a bunch of drunks who won’t remember what you said in your speech the next morning.”
“And people never drink as much when they have to pay for it out of their own pockets,” Stacy added.
“Okay, then I guess I’m outvoted on this topic,” he replied and once again leaned back in the chair.
“Let’s talk about room setup,” Stacy said.
Debra and Stacy began to discuss placement of tables and the dance floor that Trey wanted. As the two women spoke, Debra was acutely aware of the scent of Trey’s cologne, the warmth of his body far too close to hers.
Somehow, someway, she needed to get over the silly, schoolgirl crush or whatever it was she had where he was concerned.
Even though the night they’d shared was burned indelibly into her brain, she doubted that it had crossed his mind after he’d put her in the cab to take her home the next morning.
Trey Winston was off-limits, always had been and always would be. He had no interest in her other than using her as an effective weapon to achieve his ambitious desire of becoming the next senator of North Carolina.
She’d told herself she would do whatever she could to help him because of her devotion to Kate, but the truth of the matter was she’d do it because she cared about him enough to want to see him get everything he wanted in life.
* * *
Trey tried to keep his gaze off Debra and Stacy as they went over the initial planning stages. The two women were polar opposites. Stacy looked like a fashion doll with her bleached blond hair and black-fringed blue eyes. Her pink dress hugged her body in all the right places and she would instantly draw the gaze of any man who was breathing.
Debra, on the other hand, flew just under the radar in her brown suit and with her hair pulled back into a messy knot at the back of her head.
And yet it was Debra who kept drawing his gaze. She had the loveliest eyes he’d ever seen, so big and so green. Her slightly heart-shaped face expressed each and every emotion she felt.
As the two women talked, Debra displayed both earnestness and an underlying will of steel. She listened to Stacy’s ideas, tossing some while accepting others.
He knew Debra was his mother’s go-to woman, practically Kate’s right hand, moving behind the scenes to keep his mother’s life in order and running as smoothly as possible six days a week.
He also knew that the night they had met up in the bar, Debra had been upset about a breakup with some guy named Gary or Larry, or something like that.
Initially, he’d just wanted to console her, but he was in such good spirits about his own business deal, it wasn’t long before he had Debra laughing and the surprising sparks had flown between them.
Debra was a constant at the Winston Estate, but he suddenly realized he knew virtually nothing about her personal life or who she was when she wasn’t Kate Winston’s assistant.
Did she like to dance? What was her favorite kind of music? Did she have any hobbies? How did she spend her evenings and Sundays?
He frowned and stared up at an elaborate crystal chandelier. He shouldn’t be wondering about Debra’s personal life. It... She was none of his business. Just because they’d hooked up for one night didn’t mean anything at all.
He knew without doubt that it was a secret neither of them would speak of to anyone else. He trusted Debra. Her loyalty and love had always been with the family.
Still, she had stunned him with her passion, delighted him with her abandon that night. Granted, they’d both been buzzed on champagne, but neither of them could claim inebriation to the point of a lack of consent.
He knew he shouldn’t even be thinking about that night. It had been a foolish misstep on both their parts. Instead he should be thinking about Cecily and her excitement when he’d called her the night before and told her about the dinner party and his decision to enter the race.
“Then I guess we’re done here for now.” Stacy’s perky voice brought him back to the present. “I’ll email you the various menus and a couple of tentative table and floor plans first thing in the morning.”
Debra nodded and stood. “And I’ll get back to you on exactly what we want for a speaker’s podium and maybe a head table.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Stacy replied and also got to her feet. Trey followed suit, rising and taking Debra’s coat from the back of her chair to help her into it.
Even her coat smelled of that fresh scent that had dizzied his senses when he’d held her in his arms. She quickly slid her arms in and stepped away from him with a murmured thanks.
Trey pulled his coat on and at the ballroom doorway they both said goodbye to Stacy, who scurried off in one direction while Trey and Debra headed back to the lobby and the front door.
They stepped outside into the bracing air. “It’s after eleven. Do you want to go someplace for a quick lunch before you head back to the office?” he asked.
He could tell that he’d surprised her by the look on her face. “Oh, no, thanks. I really need to get back to work. All I need from you is a guest list as quickly as possible so that we can get the invitations out.”
“I’ll work on it this afternoon and how about I drop it by your place this evening? That way you’ll have it first thing in the morning to start working on. I’ve got business meetings tomorrow that will keep me at Adair Enterprises for most of the day. You’ll be home this evening?”
“Yes, I’ll be home by six-thirty or so.”
He shoved his hands into his coat pockets, noting how the brisk breeze whipped a pretty pink into her cheeks. “How are things with Larry?” It was the first time either of them had made any mention of what had transpired six weeks ago.
“It’s Barry, and things are fine. He’s gone and I’m happy. He was nothing but a creep.”
“You seemed pretty upset about the breakup,” Trey replied.
The pink in her cheeks was definitely brighter now and he had a feeling it had nothing to do with the weather. “I was mostly upset because I intended to break up with him that night and he beat me to the punch and broke up with me first.” She looked toward her car and shifted from one foot to the other, as if wishing for an immediate escape route.
“Okay then, I guess I’ll see you later this evening. Shall we say around seven?” he asked.
She nodded. “That would be fine.” With a murmured goodbye she made her escape, hurrying away from him as if unable to get out of his presence fast enough.
He frowned as he headed for his own car. He found it impossible to discern what Debra thought of him. In all the years he’d known her, he’d never been able to figure out if she actually liked him or not. The night of sharing a bed and hot sex hadn’t changed the fact that he didn’t know what to think about her or what she might think about him.
And it irritated him that he cared. He got into his car and tried to push thoughts of Debra Prentice away. He had so many other things to focus on, like how he intended to continue to run the successful Adair Enterprises at the same time he launched a campaign.
Grandfather Walt would be proud of him. The old man was probably dancing with the angels at Trey’s decision to enter the world of politics. Running the family business and politics had been what the old man had wanted for him.
Trey knew he had a good chance of winning. He didn’t lean too far left or too far to the right. His politics were middle-of-the-road. He’d already proven his business acumen in the success of Adair Enterprises and he knew he’d made a reputation for himself as a hard worker and decent man who was willing to compromise when it was necessary.
In the course of doing business, he’d made enemies, but he knew that his opponents would have a hard time slinging mud at him.
He’d always been the good son, the firstborn who had excelled in college, had taken the family business into a new level of success and had never done drugs or slept with married women. He’d never taken pictures of his body parts and put them online.
In fact, he’d worked hard to keep his nose clean for just this time. Walt had wanted this for him since Trey was old enough to understand the world of politics and now Trey wanted it for himself.
He knew Cecily would put more pressure on him now for the announcement of their engagement. She would reason that an engaged or newly married candidate only made a man more appealing to the masses. It suggested stability and commitment, considered good character traits by voters.
She was right, but he wasn’t ready yet to pop the question to her. Maybe he’d ask her to marry him once the dinner party was finished. The event would be his first real step in declaring himself ready to be a serious contender and at the moment he needed all his energy and attention focused on that.
The main office of Adair Enterprises was located in downtown Raleigh, but they also had offices in Seattle and factories in Durham and Iowa.
The company had been started by his mother’s grandfather in the 1930s as a shipping company for tobacco and local farmers to get their products across the country.
When Walt had taken over, the business had evolved into shipping containers and then to plastics and Trey had transformed it once again into a company also known for computer systems.
One of the strengths of the business was in its ability to be ever-changing with the times, and Trey prided himself on not only being a visionary, but also smart enough to hire equally driven and bright people to work with him.
As he walked through the glass doors of the building he was instantly greeted by security guard Jason Ridgeway. “Good morning, Mr. Winston.”
“Morning, Jason. How are Stella and the kids doing?”
“Great, everyone is great.”
“Billy’s broken arm healing all right?”
Jason nodded. “The cast is due to come off sometime next week. I swear that kid is going to age me before my time.”
Trey laughed. “Just keep him out of trees,” he said and then with a wave headed to the bank of elevators that would take him to the top floor of the building and his personal office.
The elevator opened into a spacious airy reception area and Rhonda Wilson sat behind the large, modern reception desk. Rhonda was part beauty, part bulldog, the perfect final gatekeeper to Trey.
In her mid-fifties, Rhonda was tall and broad shouldered. She could be exceedingly pleasant and was fiercely devoted to Trey, but she also could tear a new one in any reporter or the like who tried to breach Trey’s privacy.
“Good morning, boss,” she greeted him with a pleasant smile.
“It’s almost twelve,” he replied. “Hopefully you’re going to tell me I have nothing on my calendar for the rest of the afternoon?”
“You have nothing on your calendar for the rest of the afternoon,” she repeated dutifully. “Although you do have a ton of phone messages on your desk.”
“As usual,” he replied as he took off his coat. “Could you order a roast-beef sub for me and keep everyone out of my hair for the next couple of hours?”
“No problem.” She picked up the phone to call the nearby restaurant Trey often ordered his lunch from as Trey went into the inner sanctum that often felt more like home than his huge new mansion just outside the Raleigh beltline.
His personal office was the size of a large apartment. Not only did it boast a desk the size of a small boat, but also a sitting area complete with sofa and chairs, a minibar and a bathroom that had both a shower and sauna, and a large walk-in closet.
There had been many nights when working on an intricate deal that Trey had slept on the sofa and then awakened the next morning to shower and dress for another day of mergers or hiccups that needed to be solved.
He tossed his coat on the back of the sleek leather sofa and then took his place at his desk and powered up the state-of-the-art computer system that allowed him to monitor every area of the business, video chat with managers in other parts of the country and stay on top of each and every problem that might arise.
Today he did a cursory check of emails to make sure there were no major issues at any of the plants or offices. He quickly flew through the phone messages, setting aside the ones he intended to return later and then pulled up his list of contacts and began to work on an invitation list for the dinner.
He wanted his friends and business associates there, but he knew it was even more important that invitations went to labor-union leaders, local and state government officials, and political backers who could bring both clout and campaign contributions.
He started his list but found himself distracted by the anticipation of going to Debra’s place later that evening. He’d never been to the townhouse she’d bought, but he remembered her excitement over no longer having to rent and being a real homeowner.
He knew the silkiness of her skin, the smooth slide of her body against his own. He knew the contours of her body intimately, but he couldn’t imagine how her home would be decorated.
What definitely confounded him was the fact that even though it wasn’t quite noon yet, he couldn’t wait for seven o’clock to come.
* * *
Kate Winston stood at her office window. It was just after six and Debra had left to go home. Business was officially ended for the day, but it would still be twenty minutes or so before dinner was served.
A softness filled her as she thought of Debra. In many ways Debra had taken the place of the daughter nobody knew she’d had, the baby girl who had died at birth. Kate had only been seventeen when she’d given birth and after learning the baby did not survive, she had fallen into a deep depression that she’d believed would last forever.
She’d been sent away to school, where she pretended that she was just like all the other debutantes with nothing to trouble her except which dress to wear to what event, but she’d never quite gotten over the heartache of the loss of the baby girl.
It was only when Buchanan Winston had entered her life that Kate discovered a new reason for living. She had fallen head over heels in love with Buck. She’d not only given him three healthy sons, but had also supported him in his political aspirations that began on a local level and eventually ended in the Senate.
It was during the Senate election that she’d found out that Buck had been having affairs for most of their marriage. Her heart had been broken and she’d threatened to leave him, but he’d told her if she left he’d declare her an unfit mother and seek to gain full custody of their children.
Afraid of his power and influence, Kate had stayed and played the role of supportive wife, and then, like a bad cliché, Buck had died in one of his mistress’s arms. He’d had one year left in his term as senator and Kate had stepped in to fill his shoes.
She’d discovered she loved politics and had run for a term of her own the next year. After that had come a four-year stint as the first female vice president of the United States. Her party had lost the next election and now she had people whispering in her ear about running for president when election time rolled around again.
She wanted it. But her decision about running for the most prestigious and powerful position in the world was tempered by other elements besides her own desire.
She’d made many friends in her years of public service, but she’d also made enemies and she didn’t have just herself to worry about when the election got dirty, and elections always got dirty.
Moving away from the window, she thought of her sons and how the decision to run for president might affect each of them. Trey would be all right. He was a strong man and already preparing himself for the battle arena of politics.
She worried about Sam. He’d come home so damaged and unwilling to seek help from either family members or professionals. He was a loose cannon at the moment and she was concerned how the bright spotlight of a national campaign might affect him.
Then there was Thad. Her youngest, Thaddeus had turned his back on the family business and had made a modest life for himself in Garner, North Carolina. He worked for the Raleigh Police Department as a crime-scene investigator.
He led a quiet life alone and would hate having any role in the world she loved. Maybe she should just flip a coin to come to a final decision, she thought ruefully.
She only knew two things for sure. She believed with all her heart that she was the right person for the job, that she would be far better for the country than the front-runners who had already begun the political dance of becoming elected.
The second thing she knew with certainty was that some of the enemies she’d made over the years were utterly ruthless and would do everything in their power to destroy her and anyone she loved, not only politically, but personally, as well.
Chapter 3
Debra arrived home, hung her coat in the hall closet and then raced around like a mad woman to make sure her living room/dining area and the kitchen were spotlessly clean.
She was by nature a neat and tidy woman, so there was little to do, but with the thought that Trey would be seeing her home for the very first time she wanted everything perfect.
She fluffed the red-and-yellow throw pillows on the black sofa twice and dithered over lighting several of the scented candles she normally lit in the evenings. She finally decided against it, not wanting him to believe that she was in any way attempting to create an intimate, romantic setting.
At six forty-five she sat down on the edge of the sofa and told herself she was acting completely ridiculous. Trey probably wouldn’t even take a step into the small, gleaming hardwood-floor foyer. He’d meet her at the door, hand her the list of names he’d prepared and then leave with his mission accomplished.
The last thing Trey Winston cared about was sitting around and chatting with his mother’s assistant. Debra had eaten on the way home from the estate and had put on coffee, which now filled the air with its freshly brewed scent.
The coffee wasn’t for him. She always made coffee or hot tea when she got home from work, especially at this time of year when outside the cold knocked on every window and attempted to seep into every crack.
She was thankful that the townhouse seemed well insulated and she loved to keep the thermostat low and build a nice fire in the stone see-through fireplace that was between the living room and kitchen.
There were no flames in the fireplace now. Again, she didn’t want Trey to get any ideas that she had any thought about another encounter with him. The last thing she wanted was to come off as some pathetic one-night stand who didn’t understand exactly what she’d been.
She’d changed out of her suit and into a pair of comfortable jeans and a mint-green fleece sweatshirt. She hadn’t even bothered to check herself in a mirror as she’d left her upstairs bedroom to come down here to wait for Trey’s appearance.
She jumped when the doorbell rang, nerves jangling discordantly through her as she got up from the sofa and hurried to answer.
Her breath caught slightly in her throat as she opened the door and he smiled at her. Trey Winston definitely had a killer smile, all white straight teeth and warmth. “Hi,” he said.
“Hi,” she replied.
His smile widened, crinkling the corners of his eyes. “Are you going to invite me in?”
“Oh, of course...if you want to come in... I mean you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”
“Thanks, I’d love to come in.” He swept past her, trailing the bold scent of his cologne as she quickly closed the front door and followed him into her living room.
He shrugged out of his coat and slung it across the back of one of the two chairs that faced the sofa as if he’d done it a hundred times before. He’d changed clothes, too. Instead of his usual suit, he was dressed in a pair of casual black slacks and a white polo shirt that hugged his shoulders and chest as if specifically tailored for him.
“Is that fresh coffee I smell?” he asked.
“Yes, it is. Would you like a cup?” To say that she was shocked to have him not only actually in her townhouse, but also asking for a cup of coffee was an understatement.
“I’d love a cup,” he replied.
She motioned him to the sofa. “Just make yourself comfortable and I’ll bring it in here.”
“I don’t mind sitting in the kitchen,” he said as he followed at her heels. His gaze seemed to take in every nook and corner of the room. “Nice place.”
“Thanks, I like it.” She was grateful when he sank down at the round wooden table with its centerpiece of a crystal bowl with red and yellow flowers.
The kitchen was her favorite place to spend time. Located at the back of the townhouse, the windows looked out on a lush flower garden she’d planted last spring, although now there was nothing to see but dormant plants and the redbrick tiers of the flowerbeds.
Above the butcher-block center island hung a rack with gleaming copper-bottomed pots and pans. The counters not only held the coffeepot but a variety of small appliances she used on a regular basis on the weekends.
“You like to cook,” he said as he looked around with obvious interest.
“On the weekends,” she replied as she reached with slightly nervous fingers to get two of her nicest black mugs down from the cabinet. She swallowed hard as she nearly dropped one. Get a grip, she commanded herself.
She poured the coffee and managed to deliver both cups to the table without incident. “Sugar? Cream?”
“Black is fine,” he replied.
She sank down onto the chair opposite him, wondering how it was possible that his mere presence diminished the size of her kitchen and sucked up the energy, making her feel slightly lightheaded, as if she was suffering from a lack of oxygen.
“What kind of food do you like to cook?” he asked, his big hands cradling the coffee mug.
“Anything...everything, whatever sounds good. I try to do a new recipe every weekend on Sunday. Last week it was chicken malai curry, an Indian dish. The week before that was spicy cherry pork stir fry.”
“Sounds delicious and adventurous,” he replied, his head cocked slightly to one side and his gaze intent on her as if trying to see inside her head.
She forced a dry laugh. “Adventurous isn’t exactly an adjective that is normally used when describing me.” She mentally begged him not to mention the night they’d spent together, a night that had been out of character for both of them. She’d definitely been adventurous and bold then.
“Efficient and driven. Sweet but with a touch of barracuda,” he replied. He took a sip of his coffee and then set the mug back down. “That’s how I would describe you. I was impressed with how you handled the negotiations today with Stacy.”
“Thanks. We’ll see how well I did when I get the menus and floor plans from her in the morning,” she replied, beginning to relax. “And we never discussed what your budget was for the event.”
“Whatever it takes to do it right,” he replied.
“Everything needs a budget, Trey,” she admonished. “If you can’t stick to a budget, then how can the voters trust you with their tax dollars?”
“Okay.” He named an amount that was adequate and yet not too extravagant. “We’ll use that figure as our budget. What do you think about my decision to run for senator?”
She looked at him, surprised he would care one way or the other what she thought about it. She took a sip of her coffee, unwilling to give him a quick, flippant answer.
“You’ve always been successful at whatever endeavor you’ve undertaken,” she said thoughtfully. “You have all the qualities to be a great senator, but have you considered how you’re going to juggle the running of Adair Enterprises with the responsibilities of being a state senator? Not only does the job take a lot of hours and work, but campaigning will be a huge commitment of both time and energy.”
“I know, but I’m lucky that I have good people working with me at Adair Enterprises and they will step up to cover whenever I can’t be at the business.” He took another drink. “Has Mom given you any hint as to whether she’s going to take up the challenge and run for president?”
Debra smiled. “Your mother shares a lot with me, but this is one decision she’s keeping pretty close to her chest. I know there is pressure on her from a variety of places to run, but I have no idea what she’s going to decide.”
“She should go for it. She’d be great for the country. Not only is she strong and intelligent, but she’s more than paid her dues and she’s smarter than any of the other schmucks who are making noise about running.”
“You’re preaching to the choir,” Debra replied with a smile. “She’d have my vote in a minute.”
He returned her smile and suddenly the nerves jumped through her veins once again. “This is nice,” he said as his gaze swept the room and lingered on the fireplace. “I’ll bet it’s quite cozy in here when the fire is lit and you have something exotic cooking in the oven or on the stove.”
“It is nice,” she agreed. “Buying this place was the best decision I’ve ever made.”
He finished his coffee and when he set the mug down on the table and looked at her, something in the depths of his eyes caused her to tense warily.
“Debra, about that night...”
“What night?” she said quickly. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She pled with her eyes for him to take it no further. She didn’t want to have a discussion about a night that shouldn’t have happened. A hand automatically fell to her lap, as if in an attempt to hide the secret she carried.
“I’m your mother’s assistant and I’ll do everything I can to help you reach your goal of becoming a North Carolina state senator,” she said softly. “And that’s really all we have to discuss.”
He held her gaze for a long moment and then gave a curt nod of his head and stood. “Thanks for the coffee, Debra, and all your hard work.”
“No problem. One more thing, did you bring me the list of names of people you want to invite?” She got up from the table.
He snapped his finger and grinned at her. “I knew there was a reason I stopped by here. The list is in my coat pocket.”
Together they left the kitchen and went back into the living room where he grabbed his coat from the back of the chair and put it on. He reached into one of the pockets and pulled out the printed list.
“Thanks,” she said as she took it from him. “I’ll get the invitations ordered tomorrow and have them addressed and mailed by the end of the next day. Do you want to look at the invitations before they go out? I was thinking something simple and elegant.”
“I trust your judgment.”
“You can trust me in everything,” she said pointedly, hoping her words were enough to put him at ease about that damned night they’d spent together.
He’d probably wanted to mention it to her to assure himself that she had no plans to take it public. She could probably make a little extra money selling the story to the tabloids.
She could only imagine the salacious headlines if the information got out that he’d slept with a member of his mother’s staff while practically engaged to a wealthy socialite. But he had nothing to worry about where she was concerned.
“You have absolutely nothing to be worried about,” she said to reiterate to him that the secret of their unexpected tryst would remain just that—a secret.
“Then I guess I’ll leave you to the rest of your evening,” he said, and they walked together toward the front door.
“I’ll get in touch with you sometime tomorrow, as soon as I get the things emailed over from Stacy,” she replied, grateful that they’d broached the subject of their night together without really talking about it.
“This dinner party is an important first step and together we’re going to make it amazing,” he said. He gave her one last devastating smile and then stepped out the front door and disappeared into the gloom of a cloudy twilight.
Debra locked the door behind him and leaned against the door. Curse that man. She could still smell the heady scent of his cologne, feel a lingering vibrating energy in the air despite his absence.
She shoved herself off the door with a muttered curse and carried the list of names he’d given her into the small chamber just off the living room that served as her home office.
She placed the list on her desk next to her computer and then left the room and returned to the kitchen. She placed Trey’s coffee mug in the dishwasher and silently cursed him for even making her think about that night.
Her body flushed with heat as she thought of how he’d slowly caressed each and every inch of her skin. His kisses had driven her half out of her mind with desire and she knew making love with Trey Winston was an experience she’d never, ever forget.
What bothered her more than anything was the knowledge that even knowing it was wrong, even with the unexpected result that had occurred, she’d do it again in a hot minute.
* * *
Trey wasn’t sure what he had hoped to accomplish by bringing up the night he’d spent with Debra after all this time. Over six weeks had passed and they’d spoken numerous times since then without ever mentioning what had transpired between them.
So, what had he wanted to say to her tonight? What had he wanted her to say to him? That she’d liked being with him? That he’d been a pleasing lover?
He mentally scoffed at his own thoughts. As terrible as it sounded, he probably just wanted to double-check that she didn’t intend to go public with their misdeed, but even thinking that did a disservice to the woman he knew that Debra was. He knew how devoted she was to the family. She would never do anything to hurt any of them in any way.
Instead of heading home to his mansion, he decided to drop in and visit with his grandmother in the nursing home. As he drove his thoughts continued to be filled with Debra.
She’d looked cute as a bug in her jeans and green sweatshirt. He’d never seen her in casual clothes before and the jeans had hugged her long legs, shapely legs that he remembered wrapped around him.
He tightened his grip on the steering wheel, realizing the skies were spitting a bit of ice. January in Raleigh could be surprisingly unpredictable. It might be cold with a bit of snow or ice, or it could be surprisingly mild. Occasionally they got a killer ice storm, but thankfully nothing like that so far this year.
The weather forecast that morning had mentioned the threat of a little frozen precipitation, but nothing for travelers to worry about. Slowing his speed a bit, his thoughts went back to Debra.
Her townhome had surprised him. He’d expected the furnishings to be utilitarian and rather cold, but stepping into her living room had been like being welcomed into a place where he’d wanted to stay and linger awhile.
The living space had been warm and inviting, as had the kitchen, as well. He thought of the stark formal furnishings in his own mansion and for a moment entertained the idea of hiring Debra to do a bit of decorating transformation.
It was a silly thought. If he worked his plan to achieve his ultimate goal, then Cecily would be moving into the mansion and she’d want to put her own personal stamp in place there, although he doubted that Cecily would have the taste for warm and inviting. She’d want formal and expensive. She’d want to create a showcase rather than a home.
He punched the button on his steering wheel that would connect him to phone services. He gave the command to call Cecily on her cell and then waited for her to answer.
“Darling,” her voice chirped through the interior of the car. “I was wondering if I was going to hear from you today.”
“Between work at the office and planning this dinner party, I’ve been swamped.” He could hear from the background noise on her phone that she wasn’t at home. “Where are you now?”
“At a Women’s League meeting. I’m already not-so-subtly campaigning for you, Trey.”
He smiled, certain that she was doing just that. “You know I appreciate it.”
“You’d better,” she replied with a laugh. “Rumor has it your mother is seriously considering running for president. We’ll let her have that position for two terms and then we’ll be ready to move into the White House.”
Trey laughed. “One step at a time, Cecily. This dinner party will let me know if I can get some of the big hitters in town behind me in order to achieve the first step in the process.”
“You can take it one step at a time, but I’m already envisioning what the White House Christmas tree will look like,” she replied with a laugh. “Oh, gotta go. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
She ended the call and Trey shook his head. Cecily McKenna was like a force of nature, unstoppable and powerful and completely in his corner. She would make a perfect ally and support as a wife.
He pulled into the parking lot of the Brookside Nursing Home, an upscale establishment where his grandmother, Eunice, had resided since Walt’s death.
When she’d lost her husband she had spiraled into a depression so deep nobody seemed to be able to pull her out. Trey knew one of the most difficult decisions his mother had made was to move her own mother here instead of keeping her living at the estate. But Eunice needed more than what Kate and the family could provide.
After several months of residency Eunice had appeared to rally from her depression. She seemed quite content where she was, in a small apartmentlike set of rooms with an aid who stayed with her twenty-four hours a day.
He nodded to the security guard on duty outside the front door and entered into a small lobby with a couple of elegant chairs and a front desk.
“Good evening, Mr. Winston,” Amy Fedder, a middle-aged woman behind the reception desk greeted him. He was a frequent visitor and knew most of the people on staff.
“Hi, Amy.” He walked to the desk where there was a sign-in sheet and quickly signed his name and the time he’d arrived. “Have you heard how she’s doing today?”
“I know she had dinner in the dining room and earlier in the day she joined a group of women playing bingo.”
“Then it sounds like it’s been a good day for her,” he replied, a happiness filling him. He adored his grandmother. “Thanks Amy, I’ll see you on my way out.” He left the front desk and headed for the elevator, which would take him to the second floor where his grandmother’s little apartment was located. It amused him that her place was in what the nursing home called the west wing.
There were only forty residents at any given time in Brookside and almost as many staff members. The nursing home catered to the wealthy and powerful who wanted their loved ones in an upscale environment with exceptional care and security. Every member of the staff had undergone intense background and security checks before being hired and there was a front door and a back door, both with an armed security guard on duty at all times.
He got off the elevator and walked down a long hallway, passing several closed doors before he arrived at apartment 211.
He knocked and the door was answered by Serena Sue Sana, a tall beautiful African-American woman who went by the nickname of Sassy. She was of an indeterminable age, but Trey guessed her to be somewhere in her mid-sixties.
“Mr. Trey,” she greeted him, her white teeth flashing in a bright smile. “Come in.” She opened the door wider. “Ms. Eunice will be so happy to see you.” She leaned closer to him. “She’s had a good day but seems a bit agitated this evening,” she whispered.
He nodded and walked into the nice-size living room with a small kitchenette area and doors that led to the bathroom and two bedrooms, one large and one smaller.
His eighty-six-year-old grandmother was where she usually was at this time of the evening, her small frame nearly swallowed up by the comfortable light blue chair surrounding her.
Her silvery-white hair was pulled up neatly into a bun atop her head and her blue eyes lit up and a smile curved her lips at the sight of him. “I know you,” she said, her affection for him thick in her voice.
“And I know you,” Trey replied as he walked over to her and planted a kiss on her forehead.
“I’ll just go on into my room so you two can have a nice private chat,” Sassy said.
“Before you go, would you make this television be quiet?” Eunice held out the remote control to Sassy.
“I’ll take care of it,” Trey replied. He sat in the chair next to Eunice and took the remote control and hit the mute button as Sassy disappeared into the small bedroom and closed the door behind her.
“I love Sassy to death, but she likes to watch the silliest television shows,” Eunice said. “And sometimes I just like to sit and visit with my favorite grandson.”
“I’ll bet you say that to all your grandsons,” Trey said teasingly.
She giggled like a young girl. “You might be right about that.” Her blue eyes, so like Trey’s mother’s, sparkled merrily.
“I heard you played bingo this afternoon,” Trey said.
Her smile instantly transformed into a frown. “Did I...? Yes, yes I did, although I didn’t win. I never win.” She leaned closer to him. “That woman from downstairs in 108 always wins. I think the fix is in.”
Trey laughed and leaned over and covered her frail hand with his. “You don’t have to win all the time.”
Her eyes flashed and her chin jutted forward with a show of stubbornness. “Adairs always win,” she said, her voice strident as she pulled her hand back from his and instead worried the edge of the fringed shawl that was around her shoulders.
“That’s what we do,” she muttered more to herself than to him. “We win.”
“Speaking of winning, have you talked to Mom lately?”
She frowned again in thought. “She called yesterday...or maybe it was the day before.” She shook her head with obvious agitation. “I can’t remember. Sometimes I can’t remember what happened when, except I have lots of memories of when you boys were young. You three were such a handful. But sometimes my brain just gets a bit scrambled.”
“It’s okay,” Trey said gently. “I was just wondering if she told you that I’m considering a run for the Senate.”
Eunice’s eyes widened. “No, she didn’t tell me.” Her fingers threaded through the shawl fringe at a quicker pace. “She never mentioned that to me before.”
“Then I guess she didn’t tell you that we think she’s also considering a run for the White House,” Trey said.
Eunice appeared to freeze in place, the only movement being her gaze darting frantically around the room as if seeking something she’d misplaced and desperately needed to find.
“Grandma, what is it?” Trey asked.
She stood from her chair and began to pace in front of him, her back slightly bent from the osteoporosis that plagued her. “No. No. No.” The word snapped out of her louder and more frantic with each shuffled step of her feet.
Trey stood in an attempt to reach out and draw her back into her chair, but she slapped his hands away and continued to pace.
“This is bad news.... It’s terrible, terrible news.” She stopped her movement and stared at him, her eyes wide with fear. “You shouldn’t do this. She shouldn’t do this. Pandora’s box, that’s all it will be.”
“What are you talking about? Grandma, what are you afraid of?”
Her eyes filled with tears as she looked at him in horror. “Secrets and lies,” she said in a bare whisper.
Chapter 4
It has to be here, Debra thought frantically as she searched the area on top of her desk. The early morning sun drifted through the office window, letting her know it was getting later and later.
She moved file folders and papers helter-skelter, her heart pounding in her ears as she looked for the missing paperwork. It had to be here, it just had to be.
She distinctly remembered putting the guest list that Trey had given her next to her computer the night before, but it wasn’t there now.
She was already dressed to go to work and had come into the office to grab the list before leaving her place. In a panic she now fell to her hands and knees in the plush carpeting, searching on the floor, hoping that it had somehow drifted off the desk, but it wasn’t there, either.
She checked the wastebasket to make sure it hadn’t fallen into it somehow during the night. Nothing. No list magically appeared.
Half-breathless from her anxious search, she sank down at her desk chair. Think, she commanded herself. After she’d placed it on the desk the night before had she come back in here for any reason and mindlessly placed it elsewhere?
No, she was certain she hadn’t reentered the office again last night. After Trey had left she’d watched a little television and then had gone upstairs to bed. She had not come back into the office.
Was it possible she had sleepwalked and moved the list?
She couldn’t imagine such a thing. As far as she knew she’d never sleepwalked in her life. Besides, she would have had to maneuver herself not just out of her bed, but also down the stairs and into the office all the while being unconscious in sleep.
Impossible. Utterly ridiculous to even entertain such an idea, but the darned list didn’t get up and walk away on its own.
Granted, she’d been unsettled after Trey had left. Maybe she had wandered in here and taken the list someplace else in the house before she’d gone to bed.
With this thought in mind, she jumped out of the chair and raced through the lower level of the house. Her heart pounded in an unsteady rhythm as she checked the kitchen counters, the living-room coffee table and any reasonable place she might have put the list, but it was nowhere to be found.
The thought of calling Trey and asking him for another copy horrified her. She was organized and efficient. She didn’t lose things. So how had she lost such an important piece of paper?
After a run-through of the entire house yielded no results, she finally returned to the kitchen, defeated and knowing she needed to get on the road or she’d definitely be late to work.
She hurried to the refrigerator and opened the freezer to take out a small package of chicken breasts to thaw for dinner and stared at the piece of paper that was slid between them and a frozen pizza.
She grabbed the paper, saw that it was the missing list and hugged it tight to her chest in relief. Hurriedly yanking out the chicken breasts, she set them in the fridge and then raced for the front door, grabbing her purse and coat on the way out.
As she waited for her car to warm up, she folded the guest list and tucked it into her purse, then pulled her coat around her shoulders. She tried to ignore the rapid beating of her heart that still continued, the frantic beat that had begun the moment she’d realized the list was missing.
Heading toward the Winston Estate, she wondered if somehow between last night and this morning her brain had slipped a cog. Had she been so flustered by Trey’s visit that she’d mindlessly placed the list in the freezer?
It was crazy. It was insane, but she couldn’t ignore the fact that she was the only person in the house who could have put the list in the freezer.
Maybe it had something to do with hormones. She had called her doctor to make an appointment for the weekend. Was it possible that pregnancy hormones made you lose your mind? She’d be sure and ask her doctor.
As if to make the day worse, Jerry Cahill was on guard duty as she pulled into the side entrance. The tall, sandy-haired Secret Service man gave her the creeps. He seemed to have some sort of a weird crush on her and had asked her out twice. Both times she’d politely declined but one time last month she’d thought she’d seen him standing on the sidewalk in front of her place and staring at her townhouse.
He stopped her car before she could pull into her usual parking space and motioned for her to roll down her window. “Hey, doll, running a little late this morning, aren’t you?” He leaned too far into her window, invading her personal space.
“Maybe just a few minutes,” she replied.
Jerry had hazel eyes that should have been warm in hue, but instead reminded her of an untamed jungle animal that could spring at a vulnerable throat at any moment.
His breath smelled of peppermint and the fact that he was close enough to smell his breath freaked her out just a little bit.
He held her gaze for a long moment and then stepped back and tapped the top of her car. “Well, I just wanted to tell you to have a good day.”
She rolled up her window and parked her car, feeling revulsion just from the brief encounter. Jerry Cahill might be a Secret Service agent, but that didn’t make him any less of a creep.
She hurried into the house to find Maddie Fitzgerald, head housekeeper, and Myra Henry, head cook, seated at the small table enjoying a cup of coffee together.
“Good morning, Ms. Debra,” Maddie said. Her plump cheeks danced upward with her smile. With red hair cut in a no-nonsense style and her perpetual optimism, Maddie had been around long before Debra. She’d not only been the first person Kate had hired, but she’d helped Kate raise the boys and was intensely devoted to the Winston family, as they all were to her.
“Good morning, ladies,” Debra said. She smiled at Myra and drew in a deep breath. “Is that your famous cinnamon rolls I smell?”
“It is. If you want to get settled into your office I’ll bring you a couple with a nice cup of coffee,” Myra said.
“That sounds heavenly,” Debra replied. “Thanks, Myra.”
She kept her smile pasted on her lips until she reached her office where she hung up her coat and then sank down at her desk. She opened her purse and retrieved the list that Trey had given her.
She’d just set it next to her computer when Myra arrived with a steaming cup of coffee and two large iced cinnamon rolls on an oversize saucer.
“Those look too sinful to eat,” Debra exclaimed as she eyed the goodies.
Myra grinned at her. “I make them special, no calories so there’s no guilt.”
“Yeah, right,” Debra replied with a laugh.
“Enjoy,” Myra said and left the office.
Debra took a sip of the coffee and then got to work typing up the list of names Trey had given her so she’d have a hard copy on her computer. Once it was in the computer she wouldn’t have to worry about losing it again.
She was still troubled twenty minutes later when she had the copy made and leaned back in her chair and drew a deep breath.
“Crisis averted,” she muttered aloud to herself. She picked up one of the cinnamon rolls and took a bite, but her stomach was still in knots because of the morning trauma.
Or was it morning sickness?
She couldn’t think about being pregnant now. She’d think about it after she saw her doctor. Right now she had work to do, not only did she have to pick invitations to be printed and addressed and mailed, there was also the matter of finding a good orchestra to hire for the night of the dinner. Once she got information from Stacy she’d need to meet with Trey to make some final decisions.
It would be easy for her to feel overwhelmed, but Debra knew the way to get things done was focus on one item at a time and not look too far ahead.
Kate’s morning knock came at eight-thirty and Debra instantly got up to join her boss in her office.
“Good morning, Kate,” Debra said as she sat in the chair opposite the desk.
“And a good morning to you,” Kate said with a fond smile. “I’ve already given Haley the things that needed to be taken care of for me this morning. One thing I love about interns is that they’re so eager to please. What I want from you is an update on you and Trey’s visit to the Regent yesterday.”
For the next half an hour Debra filled Kate in on what had transpired at the hotel and where they were in the planning stages.
“I know you’re pulling everything together quickly,” Kate said. “If you need more help, let me know and I’ll assign an assistant for you.”
“Actually, I think Stacy, the hotel event planner is going to be all I need. She seemed to understand exactly what we want, what we need for a successful evening for Trey. I’m expecting her to get me a floor plan and some menu options sometime this morning. That will tell me how good she is at her job.”
“Do you think he’s ready for this?” Kate asked.
“I think he’s more ready than anyone could be,” Debra replied. “I know he’s saying that this dinner party is just to dip his toes in the water to see what kind of support he might have if he decides to run, but I believe he’s already made up his mind. His head is definitely already in the game.”
Kate nodded. “That’s what I believe, too, and Trey never does anything halfway.”
“He’ll make a wonderful senator,” Debra said, unable to keep the passion of her belief out of her voice. “He’ll bring new life and new hope to the people of North Carolina.”
Kate nodded. “I know my son. Even if he decided to be a garbage man he’d be the best in the business. He always does everything well.”
“He’s a chip off the old block,” Debra replied with a smile.
Kate laughed. “Get out of here and get to work on helping my son. I won’t need anything from you today. I know the time constraints you have to get the details of this dinner party under control are incredibly tight, so get to it.”
By the time she got back to her office she’d received a number of emails from Stacy. The young event planner had sent several different seating plans and three menus with prices. Even though she’d had to pull teeth in order for Trey to come up with a budget, Debra intended to negotiate hard to keep costs low and quality high.
She was an old pro at this, having set up dozens of such events in the past for Kate. Despite what Trey had said, budgets always mattered, and it would reflect poorly on his business acumen to not bring the dinner party in as reasonably as possible.
If you wanted the taxpayers to back you, then you had to show a willingness to work within budgets, she thought.
Gathering the emails all together, she knew what she needed now was for she and Trey to have another meeting and make more decisions. She picked up the phone to call him at Adair Enterprises.
The receptionist connected her to him immediately.
“Good morning, Debra.” His deep smooth voice was like a physical caress through the line.
She returned the greeting, although what she wanted to do was tell him about her frantic search for his list that morning, the ridiculousness of finally finding it in the freezer and that Myra’s cinnamon rolls had made her slightly queasy.
Trey told her he intended to come to the house around two and they would meet then to hammer out any decisions that needed to be made. Then they disconnected.
Debra leaned back in her chair and for the first time in years wished she had a best friend. Her entire adult life had been built surrounded by the Winston family. There hadn’t been time for friends outside of the intimacy of the family members.
Certainly her childhood hadn’t been conducive to making friends. She’d never invited anyone to her home, afraid that her classmates might see her mother drunk or hungover. Once she started working for Kate, the work and the family had taken precedence over anything and everyone else.
That had been part of her problem with dating Barry. There had been little time to really grow any meaningful relationship. Although ultimately he’d broken up with her because he told her he wasn’t getting what he needed from her, she’d already intended to break up with him because she’d figured out he was getting what he needed from his married secretary. The jerk.
Maybe it was best that she didn’t have a best friend, she thought as her hand fell to her lap and she caressed her lower belly.
Perhaps she would be tempted to share too much with a best friend, and a secret wasn’t a secret if two people knew about it. And Debra knew better than anyone that she had a secret that had the potential to destroy a career before it began.
* * *
Trey had been disturbed since he’d left the nursing home the night before. His grandmother had become quite agitated before he’d left, frantic as she continued to whisper about secrets and lies.
Sassy had finally come out of her room to deal with the older woman. She’d given Eunice a mild sedative and by the time Trey had left, Eunice had fallen asleep in her chair.
Sassy had assured him that she’d be fine, but as Trey drove to the Winston Estate, he couldn’t help the worry that had been with him since the visit the night before.
He’d always been close to his Adair grandparents and had mourned deeply when Walt had died. Now he was both concerned and confused about his grandmother and after meeting with Debra he intended to speak to his mother about the issue.
The front door of the estate was opened by housekeeper Maddie, who always greeted him as if it had been months since she’d seen him. “And aren’t you looking just fine today,” she said as she took his coat from him. “You know I’ve always liked you in a nice blue suit, it makes those eyes of yours downright beautiful.”
Trey laughed. “You’ve been charming me since I was a baby, Maddie, and the years haven’t changed anything a bit. I’m assuming Debra is in?”
“Holed up in that little office of hers as usual.”
“Would you tell her that I’m here and that I’ll meet her in the sitting room?”
“I’d be happy to. Tea or coffee? Maybe a plate of cookies?” she asked, knowing his weakness for sweets.
“Coffee and what kind of cookies?” he asked.
She smiled at him slyly. “Does it really matter?”
He laughed. “No, it doesn’t, not as long as Myra baked them. Okay, a couple of cookies would be good.” He was still smiling as he entered the informal sitting room where the afternoon sun flooded through the floor to ceiling windows at one end.
The weather system that had brought the little bit of icing the night before had moved on, leaving behind blue skies and sunshine.
Trey sank into one of two beige easy chairs in front of the windows, enjoying the warmth of the sun on his back. Within seconds Myra entered the room, carrying with her a tray that held a small coffeepot, two cups and a plate of oatmeal-raisin cookies he knew would be soft and gooey, just the way he liked them.
“Thanks, Myra,” he told the cook, who nodded and then left him alone in the room.
He poured the coffee into the two cups and thought about having coffee in Debra’s townhome the night before. She was bright and sweet and easy to be around. Last night as he’d sat in her kitchen he’d felt more relaxed than he had in months and he thought it had not been just the cozy surroundings, but also her company.
She didn’t seem to have one high-maintenance bone in her body. He found her blushes charming and the fact that she cooked something special and new just to please herself each Sunday intriguing.
He had nearly destroyed the nice interaction between them by attempting to bring up the night they had spent together, but she’d made it clear that she didn’t want to discuss it and was more than a bit embarrassed by the whole affair.
He should feel embarrassed about it, too. Still, he couldn’t help but admit that he was looking forward to seeing her again. He tried to tell himself that it had nothing to do with any feelings he might have for her. Granted, he’d more than enjoyed his one night with her, but he knew where his duty, where his future lay and it definitely wasn’t with Debra.
The subject of his thoughts entered the room. Clad in a pair of tailored black slacks and a white blouse, she looked all business as she offered him a curt smile.
“I had Myra bring in some cookies and coffee,” he said as she sat in the chair next to him. “It’s been my experience that every important decision should be made over a good cookie.”
She smiled and set a handful of papers on the coffee table next to the silver tray of refreshments. “No cookies for me, and no coffee. I’ve been trying to cut down on my caffeine.”
As always whenever she was around he was aware of the scent of her, that fresh, clean fragrance that stirred something deep inside him. What kind of perfume did Cecily wear? For the life of him he couldn’t seem to bring it to his mind whenever Debra was close to him.
“So, what have we got?” he asked, slightly irritated with himself and the crazy tug of attraction he felt for a woman who had no place in his future plans.
She leaned forward and grabbed the small stack of papers. “Stacy sent me these this morning. The first three are various floor plans, including an area for an orchestra and dance floor and the table arrangements.” She handed them to him.
He tried to focus on the papers in his hands and not on how the brilliant sunshine streaming through the window made her light brown hair sparkle as if lit by a thousand fireflies.
She got up from her chair and moved to the back of his where she could lean over to see which plan he was looking at. “Do you want to hear my thoughts about each one?” she asked hesitantly.
“Absolutely. You’re the expert at these kinds of things.”
She leaned closer, so close that if he turned his head he’d be able to place his lips on the long length of her graceful neck. He narrowed his eyes and stared at the piece of paper on top.
“I don’t like this one because she’s got the orchestra and dance floor both on the same side, which makes the room look uneven and off-balance,” she explained.
He cast her a quick sideways glance and noted the long length of her sable eyelashes, the skin that looked bare and beautiful and like smooth porcelain. His fingers tingled as he remembered stroking that skin.
“This is the plan I think works much better,” she said, leaning farther over him to take the papers from his hand and shuffle them around.
He stared back down again, wondering what in the hell was wrong with him. Tonight he had a date with Cecily, the woman who was the front-runner to be by his side for the rest of his life and yet all he could think about at the moment was the soft press of Debra’s breasts against his back as she leaned over him, the sweet fresh scent that eddied in the air whenever she was near.
“See how the orchestra is on the left side, but the dance floor is in the center, right in front of the head table? The tables all seat eight and that means with a head table of eight and two hundred and fifty guests we’ll need thirty-one tables.”
“This looks fine to me,” he replied and released a small sigh of relief as she straightened up, returned to her chair and gave him a little breathing room from her.
“I figured you, Cecily, your mother, your brother Sam, the governor and his wife, Thad and his guest would comprise the people at the head table,” she said.
“Thad won’t come.” Trey thought of his youngest brother. “There’s no point in even inviting him. He has his own life and has no interest in this.” He fought back a touch of hurt as he thought of the distance between himself and Thad that had grown bigger and deeper with each year that passed.
“Then we’ll put the mayor and his wife at the head table,” Debra replied. “They probably should be there anyway.”
Trey nodded, still attempting to regain control of the swift desire that had momentarily taken ahold of him with her nearness.
“This is the invitation I thought would be nice.” She handed him a black-and-white invitation, bold and slightly masculine. “If you approve it I’ve got the printers standing by and I can have them in the mail by tomorrow morning.”
He looked at her in surprise. “Hand addressed?”
“Absolutely.” The brilliant green of her eyes was filled with quiet confidence.
“But won’t that take you half the night?”
She shrugged. “It takes however long it takes. They should have gone out a month ago. They definitely have to go out tomorrow.”
He handed her back the invitation. “It’s perfect. You can start the printers.”
“And now we move on to the menu issue.”
It took them almost an hour to go through the variety of menus Stacy had presented, along with the suggested price per plate.
“Don’t pay any attention to the prices,” Debra said. “There’s no way we’ll pay what the hotel is asking.” This time there was a gleam of challenge in her eyes that he found very hot.
They spoke for another half an hour about food, finally settling on what he’d like to see served. He was almost disappointed when she told him that was all she had to discuss with him today and that she’d be back in touch with him the first of next week to talk about decor and silverware and dish choice.
They left the sitting room and as she disappeared into her office and closed the door, he poked his head into his mother’s office, but she wasn’t there.
Instead, her head intern, Haley, was filing folders in the file cabinet. “Hi, Trey,” she said, a bright smile on her youthful face.
“Hey, where’s the boss?” he asked.
“She mentioned a bit of a headache and went up to her room a little while ago. Is there something I can help you with?” Haley asked with the overeagerness of a young woman wanting to prove her worth.
“No, thanks, I think I’ll just head up to check on her.” With a wave of his hand he headed for the wooden spiral staircase in the entry that would take him to the bedrooms located on the second floor. He could have used the small elevator located just beneath the stairs, but he preferred the exercise of walking up.
When he reached the top of the stairs he continued down the long hallway, passing bedrooms and baths on either side and finally reaching his mother’s doorway at the end of the hall. He knocked and heard her say, “Come in.”
When he opened the door she was seated in one of the two plush white chairs that formed a sitting area complete with fireplace and French doors that led to an upper-deck patio. At the far end of the room her white-canopied bed was visible through double doors that could be closed at night.
She smiled in surprise. “I didn’t expect it to be you. I thought it might be Myra—she’s bringing me up some hot tea. Would you like me to ring her to bring you a cup, too?”
“No, thanks, I just had coffee with Debra.” He sank into the chair next to hers. “Are you doing okay? Haley said you had a headache.”
She waved a hand as if to dismiss the idea. “Just a little one. I decided to escape the office and come up here to do a little thinking away from everyone else and any distractions.”
“Have you come to a decision?”
She shook her head. “No, and I think that’s what’s giving me my headache. How did things go with you and Debra? Weren’t you two getting together to talk about menus and such?”
“I just finished up with her. She’d definitely on top of things. We’ve now settled on the floor plan and a tentative menu for the evening.” He paused a moment and then continued. “She’s going to get the invitations out tomorrow and find an orchestra, but I really didn’t come up here to talk about all that. I stopped last night and had a visit with Grandma.”
Kate sat up a little taller in her chair. “How was she doing? I’m planning on visiting her this Sunday.”
Trey frowned. “To be honest, I’m a little worried about her.”
“Worried how?” Kate leaned forward and rubbed the center of her forehead as if he’d definitely made her head ache a little more.
“Maybe now isn’t a good time to talk about it,” Trey said sympathetically.
At that moment a knock sounded at the door and Myra entered with a tray holding a cup of tea and sugar and lemon wedges. She placed it on the dainty table between the two chairs. “Is there anything else you need?” she asked Kate first and then looked at Trey who shook his head.
“We’re fine, Myra, thank you.” She waited until Myra had left the room and then stirred a spoonful of sugar into the cup of green tea. She squeezed a lemon slice and placed the wedge on the side of the saucer. “Now, where were we?”
“I was saying that if you have a headache, then maybe we should have this conversation another time.”
“We’ll have it now,” Kate replied and lifted her cup to her lips.
“Okay, she seemed fine when I first arrived. She’d eaten dinner in the dining room and had played bingo during the day, but Sassy told me when I arrived that she’d been a bit anxious throughout the evening. Initially the visit went fine, but when I mentioned to her my plans for the Senate and your possible plans to run for president, she went crazy.”
Kate lowered her cup with a frown. “What do you mean by that? Went crazy how?”
“She starting pacing and screaming no and muttering about secrets and lies. I mean, she was so upset Sassy had to give her a sedative. I’m not even sure she knew who I was when she was having her tirade.” Trey paused to draw a breath, to get the strength to tell his mother what really worried him. “I think maybe she’s getting dementia.”

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