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.
HER SECRET, HIS DUTY Page 4