A Scandalous Affair

by Donna Hill

  “All the usual precautions. But it’s pretty hard to get police protection when they’re the very ones you’re going after. They won’t do anything until after the fact.”

  “Damn!”

  “I hired a private bodyguard. But Sam cussed him out his first day on the job, and pretty much made his life hell. He lasted about a week.”

  Chad tried not to smile, but he could just imagine Sam working the poor guy over. But he quickly became somber when he reflected on the dark implications of all that Justin discussed. Death threats were serious business.

  “What do you want me to do, Justin? Forget this whole thing?”

  “No. Not at all. What I do want is to keep my daughters as far out of the picture as possible. I want them out of harm’s way. I know that’s not going to be easy, given their ethics and personalities.” He took a deep breath. “But I don’t want them hurt by this in any way. I don’t want to see anything happen to them.”

  “I understand, Justin. But the reality is, Sam and Simone are grown women. If I told them tomorrow that I’d changed my mind, that the whole idea was crazy, they’d take it upon themselves to keep moving forward. You know how they are.”

  “Exactly. That’s why I want you to work closely with me. Involve them as little as possible. Stall them with the big stuff. Keep them in the background.”

  Chad’s brows rose with doubt. “That’s not going to be easy.”

  “None of this is,” Justin said. “And it’s only the beginning.”

  Chapter 8

  “Mia, has there been any word on the condition of those other two young men who were with Fields?” Samantha quizzed as she reviewed the statements from Roderick’s family. She was certain the police would try to somehow discredit Fields even if it was with something as inane as cheating on a spelling bee in grade school. She wanted to be prepared for every inevitability, including a leak of some minor juvenile offense to the press.

  “No. Nothing new,” Mia said, “but take a look at this.”

  Samantha peered over the top of her thin-framed designer glasses and caught the tight expression on Mia’s face. “What is it?” She felt sure she knew the answer before she read the headlines: more tragedy. She picked up the paper. Unarmed Man Shot By Police. The Washington Post article referred to another New York incident involving some undercover officers who harassed a black man during a buy-and-bust sting. When the victim didn’t offer information about the location of a nearby drug den, but rebuffed them, a violent confrontation ensued and the victim, twenty-sixyear-old Patrick Dorismond, a Haitian immigrant, was shot dead despite being unarmed.

  “Another ‘accident,’ I suppose?” Samantha said with disgust, quickly digesting the details of the latest killing. She blew out an exasperated breath and pulled her glasses from her nose. “When is this going to stop?”

  Mia shook her head sadly, her berry-toned face bearing an expression of grief and denial. She’d been Samantha’s assistant since she’d graduated with honors in political science from Georgetown University, and had the opportunity to meet Samantha at a voter registration rally two years earlier. She’d been so inspired by the fire and vision of Samantha Montgomery that she convinced Sam to let her work for free for the first three months—anything so that she could learn. Reluctantly, Samantha had taken her on, and never regretted a day. Mia Opoku was not only the best research assistant anyone could find, but had become a dear friend.

  “Maybe when the tide turns, things will change,” Mia said without much conviction. “Or when it hits them in the pocket.”

  Samantha nodded in agreement. Financial remuneration was just the route that Chad intended to take. Reparations paid for police abuses were on the rise around the country. But the scattered legal victories had done little to stem the onslaught of police shootings. She tossed the paper aside and massaged the bridge of her nose.

  Muffled conversation from her staff of six and the sounds of ringing phones played havoc in the background.

  Some days, like today, she wished she could walk away from it all. Walk away from the ugliness, the notoriety, the rallies, the tension, and simply have a life of her own. A quiet, simple life where her biggest worry was paying the cable bill on time so she wouldn’t miss her favorite movie. A subdued existence out of the limelight.

  That, of course, was fantasy. She could no more give up her commitment, her quest, than she could give up breathing. It was an integral part of her life.

  Samantha gazed up at Mia, who was looking at her pensively.

  “You generally don’t have ‘that look’ until Friday,” Mia teased, attempting to push away the cloud that had suddenly appeared above her friend’s head.

  Samantha tried to laugh it off. “I’m not that transparent, am I?”

  Mia nodded, lips pursed. “What else is on your mind besides the usual chaos and mayhem?”

  Samantha pushed her locks away from her face and tucked them behind her ear. “Chad is back.”

  “And…”

  “It was good seeing him.” She paused. “More than good.”

  Mia folded her arms. “And…”

  “And—well, I just…wonder what it would be like to have a real life. Settle down, home, white picket fence, family, kids, you know.”

  Mia needed to take a seat. This wasn’t the Sam she knew talking.

  “I like him. Always did,” she shyly admitted. “And it looks like we’re going to have the chance to work together.” She went on to explain Chad’s bold idea and all that it would entail. She looked deeply into Mia’s eyes. “I know he thinks I’m witty, intelligent, with high morals, a fighter for justice and the downtrodden. But I want him to see me as Samantha Montgomery—woman. You know what I mean. But it’s been so long since I’ve even thought of myself outside of my work, I wouldn’t know where to begin, where to separate myself. When I called him for lunch, I knew I had it all together. But lying in bed last night, the doubts slipped in. Chad seems perfect for someone like my sister Simone, not me.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  Samantha shrugged helplessly. “She’s talented, smart, pretty, and she has a way with men that I’ve never mastered. It was the one thing I envied about her,” she admitted. “Men flock to Simone without much effort on her part.”

  “So you’ve become your work?”

  “I guess,” she sighed. “I live too much in my head. In my job.”

  “Believe me, I love Simone, but the only difference between you and your stepsister is that she isn’t afraid of her womanhood. She embraces it.”

  “And you’re saying that I’m afraid?” she tossed back defensively.

  “Thou protests too much,” Mia said with an arched brow.

  Samantha backed down by degrees, knowing that Mia was right. “Okay, okay,” she finally conceded. “So now what? What do I do?”

  “Depends on how much you really want him.”

  Samantha’s gaze drifted away for a moment. How much did she want Chad? Or was he like everything else in her life—a challenge?

  “Well,” Mia pushed out a breath and stood. “I have work to do and by the sound of what you told me, so do you.”

  Samantha blinked and focused on Mia. “You’re right. I need to get busy. I’ll start pulling files that we’ve had direct contact with and later today, you have one of the interns make copies. No.” She shook her head. “You make the copies. Although I trust Nettie and Steve, they’re still young and excitable. I don’t want them running back to G.W.U. and Howard spreading the word about what we’re putting together.”

  “Got it. The sooner you get them to me, the sooner I’ll have them screened and back to you.”

  “Before lunch.”

  Mia gave a thumbs-up and headed for the door, then stopped. “You know if you ever want to talk—about whatever—I’ll listen. Might not have much to offer in the way of advice,” she teased, “but I’ll listen to anything. No judgments.”

  Samantha laughed. “That’s definitely
good to know.” Her expression grew more serious. “Thanks.”

  Mia waved and left.

  Samantha turned her attention to the stack of reports and statements on her desk. She didn’t really see any of it. Afraid of being a woman. The telling phrase echoed in her head. Emotionally shut down. Was she? And if so, what was she willing to do about it?

  Chad pored over the transcripts and police reports that Justin’s secretary had provided for him. Some were a matter of public record, others were cases that Justin, Sean or Khendra had worked on personally.

  Sean and Khendra, he mused. Now they were a team. Very effective. Several years earlier they’d successfully won a multimillion-dollar lawsuit in a wrongful-death shooting. That was a case splashed all over the New York papers. If he remembered right, the victim’s brother, Quinten Parker, launched a foundation for troubled youth with the settlement.

  He stroked his chin in thought. Outcomes like that are a start. But the results are contained. His goal was to have far-reaching results—long-term. Black folks would never see reparations from slavery. That was a beaten trail that would lead nowhere. But today, here and now, they had a chance to get payment for their suffering and loss, if they would band together for a single cause before there was no one, not one black man left standing.

  “Knock, knock. Can I come in?”

  Chad’s gaze snapped up and landed on the long, slender form framed in his doorway. For an instant, he saw her silky hair fanned out around her head like a halo, her eyes shut, mouth moist, swollen and inviting, as her body moved beneath him. That was then. It was pretty clear that that chapter in their life was closed.

  He cleared his throat and his thoughts. “Hey, this is a surprise.” He stood slowly.

  “Pleasant?”

  He rounded the desk and crossed the room. “Absolutely.” He hugged her briefly and stepped back. “Come in and get comfortable. What brings you here?” He went to the small refrigerator, opened the door and peered inside. “Something to drink?” he asked, his voice slightly muffled.

  Simone strolled to the couch and sat, crossing her stockinged legs in one smooth motion. It was a very feminine, sexy gesture that was not lost on him.

  “Anything cold,” she answered, fighting to keep her eyes off his slouched body. “Did you see today’s paper?”

  “Yeah.” He emerged with a chilled can of Coke and an iced tea. He handed the iced tea to Simone and sat on the far end of the couch, draping his arm along its length. “Just more fuel for the fire, baby.” He took a long swallow of the Coke. “But I know you didn’t come all the way down here to ask me if I’d read the paper.”

  Simone averted her gaze, giving him her striking profile. “No, I didn’t. Actually I came to talk to Justin. But he’s not in.” Liar, liar! Why don’t you tell him the real reason?

  “Oh, yeah. He’ll be gone the rest of the day. Maybe I can help you with something.”

  “No. Just father-daughter talk.” She forced out a laugh.

  “How’s the campaign going?”

  “I’m going to headquarters when I leave here, actually. My staff is out doing polling in various areas of our district, and I’ve been trying to concentrate on strategy and my platform. Now with this class action suit you want to pull together, I’ve been trying to see how best to incorporate it into my agenda, to make it pay dividends at the ballot box, while weighing what I can do to help.”

  Chad reflected on Justin’s request: Keep them as far away from it as possible.

  He placed a hand on her shoulder. “Listen, whatever you can do is fine with me. But I can handle it. I don’t want any of this to cloud your agenda or jeopardize your chances for election. This is going to be a very problematic call, Simone. It could cost you big-time. I’ll understand if you can’t give it one hundred percent. I want you to win. Having you in office is a greater asset than rallying the troops to storm the barricades.”

  Simone stared at him, listening to the words beneath the words. Did she hear sincerity, the ring of truth, or simply that he’d prefer to work with Samantha, build something with Samantha, and leave her alone? It was getting muddled.

  “I see,” she said finally. She flicked her brows. “So, I hear you and Sam are planning to hang out on Wednesday night.” His expression remained controlled, she noticed.

  “Yes. It’s been a while since I’ve been on the D.C. scene. It should be fun.” His gaze rolled questioningly over her tight expression. “Problem?”

  “No,” she said a bit too quickly, then rose. “Why should there be?”

  “Just asking, Simone. Are you all right? You seem tense.”

  “Not at all. I just have a lot on my mind. Listen, I’ve got to get going. I have a meeting at three.” She headed for the door.

  Chad trailed her by several paces. “We never did get that chance to talk.”

  “No, we didn’t.” She kept her back to him, refusing to allow him to see the hurt in her eyes. “But that’s old news and a long time ago.”

  Chad flinched, but held his tongue.

  “Take care, Chad.”

  “You make it sound as if we won’t see each other again.”

  She spun to face him. “You’ve obviously decided on what you want to do, Chad. And that’s cool with me. We’re both adults.”

  He frowned. “Wait a minute. We’ve always been honest with each other, Simone. Why do I feel that’s not what’s happening now? If you have something on your mind, say it.”

  Her mouth stretched into a tight, meaningless smile. “Have fun Wednesday.” She turned away, then stopped, looked at him over her shoulder. “Don’t hurt her, Chad. She’s nothing like me. She’ll want more than one night.” With that she left, leaving him with the sting of her parting words and unresolved feelings they had yet to share.

  Chapter 9

  Blue Light was packed and there was a line of people waiting for tables, most of whom would have to wait for the second set. Samantha and Chad had arrived early and secured great seats right up front.

  Chad dipped a buffalo wing in the blue cheese dressing and savored the spicy flavor. “Hmmm,” he hummed in reverie. “I can’t remember the last time I had these.”

  Samantha laughed. “I can tell,” she said, eyeing the half-empty bowl.

  “That bad, huh?”

  “Absolutely.”

  He wiped his mouth with a pale green paper napkin. “Making up for lost time. What can I tell you?”

  “Hey, enjoy yourself.”

  He looked at her for a moment, took in the sparkle in her eyes and in her smile, the smoothness of her skin, the way her body fit so perfectly in her dress.

  “You really look great,” he said as if truly seeing her for the first time.

  Her face heated, but she didn’t look away. “Thanks.” She’d worried for hours about what she would wear. Nothing too provocative and nothing too conservative. Finally, she’d settled on a simple peach silk sheath with spaghetti straps and just enough material to cover her from the swell of her breasts to above her knees. Her only accessories were her thin gold watch and a mesh shawl that matched her dress and looked as if it was sprinkled with diamond dust.

  “Did you…date at all while you were away?” she asked, raising the glass of water to her lips.

  “No. I didn’t. I was too involved with my work.”

  “All the time? Even at night? Didn’t you get lonely?”

  “Sure I got lonely. And no, I wasn’t busy all the time, but enough to keep me occupied. Besides, I didn’t want to put myself in a position where I became involved with someone and knew I wouldn’t be around long enough to take it any further.”

  Samantha thought about Mia’s observation: Afraid of being a woman. She took a breath. “What about now?”

  “What are you asking me, Sam?”

  “Are you planning on staying in D.C. long enough to see if your involvement with anyone will work?”

  “I plan to stay in D.C. I don’t have any immediate plans for in
volvement, but things change—every day.”

  The band, Magique, launched into their first song and further conversation was curtailed—at least for the moment.

  “Thanks for tonight, Sam. I had a great time. It was good being out again,” Chad said as Samantha eased her car to a stop in front of her parents’ home.

  “Maybe we can do it again sometime.”

  “Whenever you’re ready. I’m game.”

  They were quiet for a moment, caught in that questioning moment of “what next?”

  “I, uh, would invite you in, but that’s kind of ridiculous since you have a key.”

  They laughed.

  “Thanks, but I’ll head home. Have a busy day tomorrow. When do you think you’ll be ready for us to get together and plan a strategy?”

  “Uh, I’m going to try to do as much of it as I can. Believe me, I understand how busy everyone is. And—”

  “My father talked to you, didn’t he?”

  “No. Well…”

  “You don’t have to cover for him. I know he said something. It wouldn’t be like him not to.”

  “He’s just concerned, Sam. And I don’t blame him. I should have thought it through before I tried to involve you and Simone. If I were Justin I would feel the same way.”

  Samantha could feel herself seething. How dare he? She was a grown woman, capable of making her own decisions. When was he going to let her live her own life? She gripped the steering wheel.

  “Take it easy, Sam,” he soothed, covering her hands with his.

  “That’s not the point, Chad, and you know it.”

  “He told me about the threats. And I’m worried.”

  She pressed her lips together and stared out her window. “I can take care of myself.”

  “That doesn’t stop your folks from worrying, Samantha…or me.”

  Slowly, she turned toward him, her eyes glimmering in the soft night light.

  Chad gently cupped her chin. “I wouldn’t want to be the cause of anything happening to you,” he said softly. “I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.” His eyes held her and she wondered if he could hear the pounding of her heart, hear the one thought racing through her head: kiss me, kiss me.