Indecent Encounter: The Silverhaus Affair

by Parker, M. S.

  I slumped back in my chair, defeated. I twirled the stem of my wine glass between my fingers while they talked. This wasn’t the way I’d wanted things to go. Not with my movie project, and definitely not with Chelsea.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chelsea

  I couldn’t believe it. Alex said nothing when Henry dismissed Jamison and me from the dining room. Again. He sat at the head of the table and stared at an old painting of a hunting dog as if he couldn’t see anything else but the bleeding pheasant in its jaws. I was standing right there under that painting, clearing the last of the silverware. I looked straight at him before we left, but he didn’t even acknowledge I was there.

  The worst part was when Henry stood up and announced he was going to the library. I looked over at April and saw she was holding Alex’s hand. She brought it casually to the exposed skin of her plunging neckline while she whispered in his ear, fawning all over him acting like they were old lovers. She broke away only long enough to tell Henry to go on without them.

  Later that night, I couldn’t get any sleep. I tossed and turned, going over and over it in my mind. I replayed our time together in the grove and every one of Alex’s kisses, scrutinizing each move, and every look in his eyes, wondering if what I felt, and what I thought I saw was only wishful thinking. So it was no surprise when my alarm went off and I was still awake. I’d set it early to meet Alex at the pool. Yesterday, my plan had been to jump out of bed and be there, naked in the cool water when he arrived, surprising him for once. Now, I tried to think of any excuse not to go.

  As I sat at my desk, I drummed my fingers on the cover of my laptop, debating what to do. I could email Karl’s caregivers again, but I’d just sent one the day before. I could check emails and messages. There’d be several from Zach, but I really wasn’t up for hearing from him right now. I thought about writing, but after overhearing Henry and April tear apart Alex’s movie, I wasn’t feeling very inspired.

  The fact that they’d convinced Alex to abandon the heart of the first project he felt passionate about was aggravating enough to propel me into action. I yanked a brush through my hair and pulled it into a neat ponytail, peering into the mirror over my desk. I took one last look, trying to ignore the vast differences between me and the blonde starlet. I rubbed a swab of sunblock lip balm across my lips, puckered them once, stood, and headed downstairs to go to the pool.

  Alex was already swimming fast laps when I arrived. I watched him swim two more, before he stopped and surfaced slowly at the wall opposite me. I knew he saw me, but he didn’t turn around, and I had to walk all the way around the pool to see his face. This was not a good start to the day.

  “Feel like racing?” I asked, forcing a smile.

  He rolled his wide shoulders and stretched his arms without answering. I inched closer, kicked off my shoes and swung my legs into the cool water. Alex clenched his jaw and glanced up at me.

  “Not today,” he said. His voice was flat.

  I pursed my lips and tried again. “Feel like company?” I asked, skimming a toe through the water to brush his thigh.

  Alex jerked back and said, “No.”

  I dropped my leg along with my cheery attitude and swallowed hard. He was just upset about what'd happened yesterday. “They gave you a hard time about your movie, huh?”

  “What would you know about it?” Alex snapped his question. “You’re all idealistic. I get it. Well, good for you. Some of us have to live in the real world.”

  “I live in the real world.” I spat at him, annoyed at his sour mood. The “poor little rich boy” attitude was so not endearing. He was behaving like a spoiled brat.

  The picture of him at the head of the table floated between us. He’d sat there like a prince in a grand hall, a blonde starlet on his arm. It was silly of me to think that the heir of Silver House Productions would throw all that away to make an independent movie. Indie films didn’t buy the suit he wore last night, the caviar they ate, or the crystal chandelier I’d polished especially for their dinner party.

  Why had I thought he’d want me when he already had everything a person could want?

  “Sure you do,” he said, his tone completely patronizing. “Speaking of your world, don’t you have work to do?”

  I drew back, hurt by his remark. I nodded. “Oh, now I see it.”

  He looked up at me with hard eyes. “What do you think you see?”

  “The family resemblance,” I said as I got to my feet. “You like to think you’re different, but when it comes right down to it, you’ll trash that movie just to make money and…and when you look at me, all you really see is a servant.”

  He'd used me. Even though everyone warned me, and the website had made it obvious, I'd fallen for it anyway. I was an idiot.

  Alex pushed a hand through his hair as he shoved back from the wall. I immediately regretted my angry words. It was childish of me to lash out at him, especially to say something I knew would hurt him so sharply. Another woman, one who knew how to handle casual sex, would’ve walked away unprovoked. However, I was too inexperienced not to feel the sting of his rejection. I was so sure he’d felt something more when we were together, but I was wrong, and now I couldn’t trust myself.

  I turned to step away when he said, “Well, since you really only came here looking for one thing, it's kind of hypocritical of you to trash me.”

  I sucked in my cheeks and spun around. “What did you say?” I asked, shocked by the question.

  “Yeah, just like that,” Alex said, scorn written on his face. “You widen your eyes and look all innocent. As if you hadn't known exactly who I was when you applied for this job. As if you hadn't come here looking to break into Hollywood. So you’re not some actress looking for a break…you’re a screenwriter. Jamison told me about the notebook he found.”

  “That has nothing to do with you,” I said. I backed away from the pool, but couldn’t make myself turn around and leave. “And I’m not the one who’s a liar. I had no idea you worked in movies.”

  “Oh, you think I’m the liar?” His eyes narrowed and his fists clenched.

  “You’re the one who put your father’s picture up on your profile. I heard April ask you about it. I get it now. I was just some joke. I didn't want to believe it, but now I can see I was right. Well, I hope you all had a good laugh at my expense. Thank you very much.” I spit out the words.

  Remembering the way that beautiful actress had looked at me last night, now, I really felt like a joke. I wouldn’t have been surprised if April was watching us now through the mansion windows flipping her curls. Just the thought of it was enough to send ice water through my veins. I knew how I looked, desperate and grasping at any hint of righteous anger to cover my own foolishness.

  I needed to leave. I couldn’t face Alex anymore. He hauled himself up on the pool deck and reached for me. I dodged out of his grasp and fled to the servants’ cottage, desperate to put as much distance between him and me as I could.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chelsea

  The sight of my little attic room was enough to make the tears overflow. Bright morning sunlight filtered in through the ivy over the window, and the hardwood floor gleamed. It was a simple room, but it was the first room I’d stayed in all by myself since I was eight years-old.

  Yet despite all of its homeyness, I knew I didn’t belong. It was the same thought I’d had hundreds of times as a foster child. It didn’t matter that I’d been happy here. I didn’t belong. I never would.

  I drifted over to the narrow writing desk, shaking my head at all the pages of pre-writing I’d done. I hadn’t even transcribed them onto my computer yet. The writing had felt great, like I’d opened a window and let in fresh air. Now, it was just another embarrassment, a foolish fantasy that I needed to let go. I scooped up the notebook and dropped all the handwritten pages into the small woven wastebasket.

  “I wasn’t lying,” Jamison said from the doorway, “when I told you it was good. I thi
nk you have talent.”

  I turned away from him, but he strode into my small sanctuary and plucked the notebook out of the trash. He straightened and placed it in the center of the writing desk.

  “Let me guess…Henry and his starlet got to you, too?” Jamison said quietly.

  “More like I woke up from a daydream.” My eyes were red, still burning with tears, so I stepped to the window with my back to him so he wouldn’t notice. “Time to get back to my real life.”

  “You mean to your brother?”

  I whirled around and asked, “What do you mean? What do you know about my brother?”

  Jamison sat on the edge of the white wicker chair and held both his hands open, palms up. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry. I did a background check after you arrived, and it mentioned your brother. He’s in a state-run care facility?”

  “It’s not jail if that’s what you’re thinking,” I snapped, all of those automatic defenses coming from years in a system always on the offensive.

  “I was thinking your brother needs assistance, and you’re the only one responsible for his care. I was thinking that’s why you took this job.”

  I blinked back tears again, but this time I didn’t care that he saw them. I’d been happy here. I’d thought I’d found a friend in Jamison, and with Alex...maybe something more. But now I could see I didn’t belong.

  “Your younger brother, Karl?” Jamison asked gently.

  “He’s autistic,” I said. “Sometimes they call it ‘profoundly autistic. He can’t care for himself, has trouble communicating. I found a program for him. It could change his life, so I needed tuition money.”

  “Needed?” Jamison asked. “That makes it sound like you’ve had a change of heart. What happened?”

  I gave up and sank onto the bed. “I can’t stay here, Jamison.” I dabbed at the corners of my eyes with my finger. “I made a big mistake. Alex has April, and his new movie. He doesn’t even want me around. He thinks I took the job just to break into Hollywood.”

  The butler’s jaw dropped. “Alex has April?”

  “Or someone like her.” I made a dismissive gesture. “The gorgeous blonde...I’ve seen her around here a few times. Anyway, it doesn't matter.”

  “That’s why you’re leaving? What about the money?” Jamison’s voice showed real concern. “Where on earth are you going to find a job that will pay what you need?”

  The shackles of my situation rubbed me raw. I straightened and snapped, “I’d rather sell drugs than be treated like a piece of dirt. You saw the way Henry and April looked at me. I thought I wouldn’t care but...” I shrugged, as if I wasn't thinking about how it would destroy me to see that same look in Alex's eyes. What'd he said by the pool had been bad enough.

  Jamison stood up and tugged his suit coat sleeves down before he cleared his throat and declared, “I’ve not heard one single reason why you should leave. Your work has been excellent, and despite a few overlaps between your personal and professional lives, I plan to pay you in full for a job well done.”

  “What about Alex?” I asked. “He doesn’t want me around. He made that very clear.”

  The butler gave a rude snort, “Nothing is clear with that boy right now.”

  His words surprised me into a smile, but I shook my head and said, “I’m sorry, Jamison, but you don’t know the whole story.”

  “There’s nothing in this house nor in Alex’s life that I don’t know.” He gave me a small smile. “In fact, I’d hazard a guess that I know things about his life that even he hasn’t realized yet.”

  I dropped my aching head into my hands. Jamison wasn’t making sense. None of it made sense. Except...of course. I could see it now. The Alex I thought I knew had disappeared after we’d made...after we'd fucked. After he'd gotten what he wanted, he dropped the act, and being the naive fool that I was, I hadn't noticed until the dinner party.

  The logic seemed irrefutable. I opened my eyes and pulled out my suitcase.

  “Chelsea, please, you don’t understand,” Jamison said.

  “Oh, no, I think I understand perfectly,” I said cooly. “I made a big mistake, and the only way to fix it is to start all over again. So, I’m going home to do just that.”

  To my complete shock, Jamison blocked the door. “No, please, Chelsea. You need to understand that Alex is struggling. He has to make a stand, and he thinks he’ll have to do it on his own. So, he’s begun by pushing away everyone he loves.”

  “You’re right about one thing,” I said. “He’ll have to do it on his own.”

  “Please, this new movie of his…you see, it’s a complete departure from everything Silver House Productions has done before. His father is hoping it will fail, because if Alex succeeds it’ll cast a new light on Henry and all of Henry’s work. It’ll make him look old and outdated, like his time in the business is over. And you’ve seen how Henry doesn’t like to think of himself as being old, or a ‘has been,’” Jamison said.

  I’d just flung open my suitcase on the bed and needed to get to the closet in the hall. The butler blocked the door, but more than his tall, bony frame, his words stopped me. Jamison was right. Alex couldn’t have lied about his Indie movie. The fact that it was already in pre-production proved that it was good. He’d made others believe in it, and obviously, they thought it would be a success, or it wouldn’t have gotten that far.

  “You think he’s having a crisis of self-doubt?” I asked.

  Jamison sighed with relief. “Yes, I couldn’t have said it better myself. Alex is having a crisis of belief. But I believe in him. I also believe in you. We need you here, Chelsea, please stay.”

  I scowled. I wasn’t one hundred percent convinced Alex wanted me to stay, but Jamison did, and my ego was boosted by his sincere words. I felt like I was needed. Jamison valued me enough to enlist my help, not just for cleaning cupboards, but for the one thing most important to him, and that made me feel worthy to be here after all. The question was, did Alex feel the same way?

  Chapter Seventeen

  Alex

  By the time I grabbed a towel and wrapped it around my waist, Chelsea had disappeared inside the servants’ cottage. I went for the door but froze at the steps to the porch. She was right. I was a liar. I hired her on a whim to annoy my father. It had been a dirty trick, a petty rebellion that had amounted to nothing, and now all I’d done was make a mess of everything.

  I forced myself to move forward placing a hand on the doorknob and pushed it open slightly. Inside, I saw Jamison appear from his room and head up the attic stairs. As he passed, he shot me an icy look that hit harder than any spoken rebuke. I knew what Jamison would say. I was a jackass. Too wrapped up in my own anger and frustration to realize how I hurt others. But I was pissed, mostly at myself, and that meant I was blind to pretty much everything around me.

  Time to reap the consequences of my decidedly asshole actions.

  I started to step inside, ready to do whatever it took to make things right with Chelsea, but before I could do anything, a woman spoke from behind me.

  “Going for a swim?”

  I pulled the door shut, dropped my hand, and reluctantly turned to see April. There she was, trouble herself, poised at the end of the sidewalk, balanced on tall, gold sandals with one hand on the ripe curve of her hip. She wore a white bikini that looked like nothing more than three triangles of fabric and some string barely covering her purchased tan. For a brief moment, an image of her stepping out of the water with her spray tan puddling around her feet, popped into my head. I would’ve laughed if I hadn't been so annoyed with her bad timing.

  “Just got out,” I said, “the pool’s all yours.” I kept my voice even, trying to give her the hint to go away and leave me the hell alone.

  “Too bad, you should change your mind,” she said and tossed her carefully arranged curls. Like she even had any intentions of swimming with that perfect hair and all that make-up. Who was she kidding?

  There was no way I could
talk to Chelsea now, not with April ogling my bare chest, and probably trying to imagine what I looked like without the towel. Even in my wildest days, I'd never fucked April. I had some standards.

  “You’re up early.”

  She flipped a hand in the air and said, “I’m not used to fending for myself. Don’t get me wrong, your guest cottage is quaint, but it’s like Siberia up there. I came through the main house, but couldn’t find anyone. Do you think your maid could bring me some tea?”

  My mouth tightened. “Everything is set up in the dining room, help yourself.”

  “Well, you must be hungry after your swim. I’ll join you,” April said.

  I tried to step past her without brushing against her mountainous breasts, but all it did was leave me straight in front of her, face to face. She batted her eyelashes and rolled her hips into another pose. She looked me up and down practically licking her lips, and purred, “Showering first? Like I said, I’ll join you.”

  I darted to the side, stepping over a flowering shrub and hopping on one foot, in an awkward effort to stop her from following me. “Maybe I’ll see you in the dining room.” I gave her an insincere smile and took off.

  I felt April glaring at me as I cut across the pool deck and up the private staircase that led to my master suite. I stopped on the balcony, not to look at April but to glance over at the servants’ cottage. Hopefully, Jamison would work his magic and save my sorry ass like he’d always done in the past. Maybe he could talk to Chelsea and smooth things over. She was probably packing her bags right now, but if Chelsea left, I’d be kicking myself for the rest of my life.