A Yuletide Affair

by Monica Richardson

  “This place has transformed since we were last here,” Samson whispered.

  “It’s so beautiful here.”

  “Did I tell you how beautiful you look tonight?” he asked.

  “Not once.” She smiled.

  “Well, you are, Miss Talbot.”

  “And you are very handsome, Mr. Steel.”

  Samson leaned into her ear. “If all these people weren’t around gawking at us, I swear I would kiss you.”

  “Good thing you know the importance of public appearances.”

  “I’m only exercising self-control because of you. If it were up to me, I would pretend we were the only two people in the room.”

  Alyson took a sip of her champagne.

  “Alyson Talbot,” she heard a familiar voice say.

  “Jennifer.” Alyson smiled and gave her a hug. “So good to see you.”

  “And you, as well,” said Jennifer. “And you must be Samson the Great. I’ve heard so much about you.”

  “Really?” asked Samson.

  “Not really.” Jennifer laughed. “Actually, my friend here has been pretty tight-lipped about you. But I’m glad she brought you tonight.”

  “Samson, this is Jennifer. Jennifer, Samson,” said Alyson.

  “It’s so good to meet you.” Jennifer smiled.

  “Likewise,” said Samson.

  “I hate to steal her away so soon, but I have some important introductions to make. You understand, don’t you, Samson?”

  “I do, indeed,” said Samson.

  “Good, then. Please feel free to mingle, and do make yourself at home.”

  Alyson offered Samson a look of apology, as she was whisked away to talk business with Jennifer’s father. A tall, handsome man with graying sideburns, Jonathan Madison had a welcoming face and appeared more approachable than she had presumed he would.

  “Dad, I’d like for you to meet Alyson Talbot.” Jennifer grabbed her father by the hand. “She’s the one I’ve been telling you about. She’s the listing agent for Madison House and a few of my other properties on Fisher Island.”

  “Ahh, Alyson.” Jonathan took Alyson’s hand in his and kissed the back of it. “I’ve heard great things about you. I understand that you secured a contract on one of my daughter’s properties in a matter of days.”

  “I did.”

  “So good to finally meet you.”

  “You, too, sir. It’s an honor.”

  “Police Chief Taylor just walked in. I’m going over to say hello,” Jennifer said before she excused herself.

  “My daughter speaks quite highly of you, Miss Talbot,” said Jonathan. “I understand that you used to work for Bell, Armstrong and Glenn. One of the best commercial real estate firms I know.”

  “Yes, sir. However, I’ve recently stepped out on my own. Started my own company.”

  “So I’m told,” Jonathan said. “How’s that working for you?”

  “It’s a slow grind, but I’m optimistic.”

  “I remember when I took that leap of faith and started my own development company. I was a youngster back then, fresh out of college. Long blond hair and an attitude as big as the world. I was invincible back then—a smart-ass with audacity.” He laughed. “It takes a great deal of courage in this industry.”

  “Precisely.”

  “I understand you have plenty of ideas for the company, and I’d like to talk with you further.” He pulled a business card out of the inside pocket of his jacket and handed it to her. “Call my office on Monday and schedule a lunch meeting with me. I’d love to hear your ideas for taking Madison Development to the next level.”

  “I will, sir.” Alyson smiled. “I look forward to it.”

  Alyson shook Jonathan Madison’s hand and then worked her way back over toward Samson, who was making small talk with a brunette. Alyson took note of her sexy red Antonio Berardi cocktail dress with the exposed back.

  “Hey, babe,” Alyson said, placing a hand on the center of Samson’s back. She wanted to make the brunette aware that Samson had come with her, and he’d also be leaving with her. “What’s going on?” she asked sweetly.

  “Alyson, this is Miranda. Miranda, Alyson.” Samson made the introductions right away.

  “Good to meet you, Alyson. Sam and I were talking politics.” She smiled.

  Sam? Alyson faked a smile. “Really, Sam?”

  “Yes!” Miranda went on to explain. “Turns out we have a common enemy. Conrad Phelps.”

  “Conrad Phelps was the crooked mayor that I told you about—the one I helped to put behind bars when I was in the DA’s office,” Samson explained to Alyson. “The one who was accepting bribes and misusing his power as a public official.”

  “Amongst other things,” Miranda added. “That entire Blue Island ring should’ve met its demise long ago. Kudos to you for bringing Phelps to justice, Sam.” She grinned and moved closer into Samson’s personal space. “Too bad those Blue Island scumbags got off scot-free.”

  “Many of them are behind bars, as well,” Samson said.

  “Take a look around. Many of them are here tonight,” said Miranda.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Many of the scumbags from Blue Island are at this party. Blue Island and Madison Development are one and the same.”

  “I don’t understand,” said Samson.

  “It’s all one big corrupt piece of work. William Blue and Jonathan Madison are old friends,” said Miranda. “They’re all crooks if you ask me, and should all be behind bars.”

  “They should be behind bars because they’re old friends?” asked Alyson. “Since when did it become criminal to be affiliated with someone?”

  “When the principals from one crooked company are the same as the principals of another crooked company, and are all engaged in criminal behavior. It raises an eyebrow,” Miranda explained.

  “I agree,” said Samson.

  “Half the folks in this room should be in jail if you ask me,” said Miranda. “Everyone from Devin Curry, the company’s CFO over there, to Jonathan Madison himself.”

  A tall man dressed in a charcoal-colored tuxedo worked his way over to Miranda. “Are we having a good time?” he asked casually.

  “A blast!” Miranda replied.

  The man grabbed Miranda by the waist, taking the champagne flute from her hand. “I think you’ve had a bit too much to drink.”

  “Honey, I’m just getting started.”

  “Champagne really doesn’t agree with you, sweetheart. You know that,” he insisted, and offered Samson and Alyson an apologetic smile.

  “I haven’t had that much, and I’m fine!” Miranda said.

  “Let’s mingle,” said the tall man as he pulled her away. “Excuse us.”

  * * *

  Samson gave a nod as Miranda and the other man walked away. He was unsettled. His stomach churned.

  “You know there’s no merit to anything that drunk woman said,” Alyson countered.

  “I don’t know that,” said Samson.

  “The Madisons are upstanding people,” she whispered. “I know them.”

  “I know you want this business deal badly, Alyson. But I caution you to proceed carefully. A scandal would ruin you before you even got started.”

  “I’m not worried.” She grabbed a champagne flute from a moving tray, took a drink. “Let’s step outside for a bit. You look like you could use some fresh air.”

  They stepped out onto the veranda, and into the moonlit night. Samson’s mind raced as he looked around at the guests now, trying to put names with faces. He wondered how many of them had been affiliated with Blue Island. Alyson touched his chest with the palm of her hand.

  “Relax, baby. You’re too preoccupied.” She snuggled up to him.

  “We should go,” he said. “Can’t we have Stephen come back for us?”

  “We haven’t even had dinner, silly. And need I remind you that we paid a pretty penny for these plates?” She giggled. “And besides, we deci
ded to stay on Abaco for the night. Remember? Stephen is halfway back to Harbour Island by now. He won’t be back until tomorrow. And we have a room booked at a wonderful resort just a few miles from here.”

  “You’re right.” Samson caressed her face with his fingertips and then planted a kiss on her lips.

  “Don’t forget our plans. We’re going to stay up all night, doing God only knows what...” He was shocked at how brazen she was. “And then we’re going to sleep late in the morning. Have breakfast in bed. And then do those same things all over again.”

  Samson conceded. He’d never seen her like this, with her guard down. He wanted to take her to that room before she came to her senses, or sobered up. It was clear that, like Miranda, she’d had way too much champagne. His mind raced a mile a minute, and as much as he wanted to spend a romantic night with the woman who’d hijacked his heart, the truth was, he couldn’t wait to get to a computer to research everything that Miranda had said.

  He survived dinner, even while speculating that he was breaking bread with criminals—and not just any criminals, but ones that had cost him his career. They were dressed in tuxedos and after-five dresses and pretending to be concerned about a worthy cause. They hid behind their checkbooks and hefty bank accounts. But he knew that as soon as Monday morning arrived, they’d go back to engaging in their shady business deals.

  He cut into his juicy fillet, and the steak melted in his mouth. He smiled as he took a glance at the small portion of food on his plate—his five-hundred-dollar plate of food. He knew that before the night was over, he’d be ransacking the kitchen at the resort where they were staying and taking them for every morsel of Caribbean food they could muster. He hoped the property had as good a cook as the Grove did. Sometimes in the middle of the night, he’d sneak to the kitchen for a hearty helping of Raquel’s johnnycakes and conch fritters. He hoped he could make it through the night without them.

  When Samson looked up from his plate, his eyes met with a pair of familiar blue ones. The wicked smile caused an unsettling feeling in the pit of his stomach. William Blue gave Samson a wink and a wide grin. He stared at the slender blond man. Couldn’t peel his eyes from him. William Blue was engaged in conversation with Jonathan Madison. The two of them laughed and toasted with glasses of brown liquor. Samson wondered how long it had been since Blue’s release from prison.

  “We really must go now.” He stood and placed his cloth napkin on the table.

  “What are you doing?” she asked. “Sit back down. I haven’t even heard Jennifer’s speech yet.”

  “I’m leaving, love. If you’re with me, you have to come now.”

  “What is the matter with you?”

  “Just trust me,” he pleaded.

  * * *

  Alyson did just that, and it was something she hadn’t done in a long time—trust a man. She followed Samson outside. She’d hoped to get Jennifer’s attention, to at least say goodbye and to thank her for the invitation, but Samson’s urgency prevailed.

  Once in the backseat of the taxi, Samson explained his actions to Alyson. “The gentleman who was talking to Jonathan Madison...that was William Blue.”

  “The William Blue you put behind bars?”

  “That would be him.”

  “Wow!” She sank into her seat. “That had to be uncomfortable for you.”

  “Yes, extremely.”

  “I’m sorry you had to endure that.”

  “I believe Miranda’s claims are true. He and Jonathan are old friends,” he said.

  “Are you saying that Jonathan Madison is engaged in shady business deals?” she asked.

  “I’m not saying that the Madisons are shady, but they’re in bed with some pretty shady characters. And when William Blue was in prison, someone on the outside set me up. Tarnished my campaign.”

  “Are you suggesting that it was Jonathan Madison who set you up?”

  “I’m only suggesting that they are friends. They looked pretty chummy in there to me. And it’s possible that Madison is involved in some bad business practices,” he stated. “And if that’s the case, they are the last people I want you doing business with.”

  Samson’s discoveries were nothing more than speculation, in Alyson’s opinion. She’d already been invited to meet with some of the other principals in the coming week, and the last thing she needed was his speculations to get in the way of her closing the deal. She hated that his career was in shambles, but she refused to believe that the Madison family was somehow involved in unethical behavior.

  “I have to do what’s right for me,” said Alyson. “I can’t base my business decisions on what has occurred in your life.”

  As the taxi pulled up at the beachfront resort, Samson stepped out and held the door for Alyson. He grabbed her small hand and helped her climb out of the backseat.

  After checking in to their lavish suite, Samson grabbed bedding from the hall closet and tossed it onto the sofa sleeper. “I’m crashing in here. You can take the bedroom.”

  “Are you serious right now?” she asked. “What about our romantic evening?”

  “I’m kind of tired.”

  “Are you mad about the whole Blue Madison thing because I won’t go on this witch hunt with you?”

  Samson shrugged and plopped down onto the sofa. Grabbed the remote control and flipped the television on. “I have legitimate concerns.”

  “Okay, okay.” Alyson held her hands in the air as if to surrender, then stumbled backward.

  “You’ve had too much to drink, love. Why don’t you lie down?”

  He escorted her to the bedroom, lifted her in his arms and then placed her onto the bed. He removed the heels from her feet. She struggled with the zipper on her dress, and he helped her.

  She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him onto the bed. “I want you.”

  “I don’t want to take advantage of you.”

  She laughed. “Please take advantage of me!”

  Samson stood, removed his jacket and loosened his bow tie. He slipped the perfectly shined Calvin Klein tuxedo oxfords from his feet and removed his pants. Tight briefs hugged his strong thighs. Alyson watched intently as he loosened every button on his shirt and tossed it onto the chair next to the bed. He slipped into the bed next to her and wrapped his strong arms around her.

  * * *

  Alyson fell asleep quickly. Light snores crept from her lips. Samson got up, tiptoed through the suite and turned off the television and the lights. He went into the bathroom and hopped into the shower. Tried washing his negative thoughts away, but to no avail. He replayed her words in his head: I can’t base my business decisions on what has occurred in your life. They felt like a punch to his stomach. She wasn’t grasping the scope of the situation. He was convinced that the Madisons were bad news, and he worried about Alyson’s future with them. He knew he had to get through to her, but tonight he’d allow her to sleep.

  He opened the bedroom’s French patio doors and breathed in the sweet ocean air. He could hear the waves crashing against the shore just a few feet away. Sheer white curtains danced in the wind. Samson found some relaxing Caribbean music on his phone and settled back in bed. After meeting Alyson, he’d taken the time to download music by artists that she claimed were her favorites, and he was slowly becoming a fan of Caribbean music. He allowed Jah Cure to serenade them for the remainder of the night.

  His eyes grew heavy, and sleep crept up on him. He grabbed Alyson a bit tighter and then closed his eyes. When he opened them again, his eyes met those blue ones again. William Blue stood over the bed, a wide grin on his face. He looked down at Samson and puffed on a Cuban cigar. Samson glanced at the French doors. They were closed, and one of the white curtains had been ripped from the curtain rod.

  Samson’s heart pounded rapidly. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  “You thought I’d be gone forever, Steel?”

  “You’re a criminal, and criminals belong behind bars.” Samson was cool and c
alm, and hoped that Alyson would remain asleep.

  “Luckily I have friends in high places.”

  “You mean friends like Jonathan Madison?”

  William Blue laughed. Heartily. He reached into the inside pocket of his tuxedo jacket, swiftly pulled out a silver-and-black .22 handgun and pointed it at Samson. He laughed, and his blue eyes turned bloodshot red. Then they were blue again.

  Samson opened his eyes. Sat straight up. His breathing was rapid and heavy, and he wiped sweat from his face. He glanced over at the French doors. The white curtains blew in the wind, still intact—just as they were before he’d fallen asleep. When he glanced over at Alyson, she was still soundly sleeping. He relaxed, controlled his breathing.

  As he slipped beneath the sheets next to Alyson, he gently kissed her forehead. He grabbed her in his arms again. Held her through the night.

  Chapter 17

  The sunshine was invasive, not shy at all about shining brightly through the room. Alyson squinted as she opened her eyes.

  “Good morning, sleepyhead,” Samson said.

  “What time is it?” she asked.

  “Just past nine.”

  “Oh, my! I never sleep this late,” Alyson said as she tried to lift her head. A sharp pain shot across her temples, and she winced. “Ooh.”

  “I went down and got you some coffee,” he said. “How do you take it?”

  “Black with two sugars.” She attempted a smile. “Why didn’t you wake me?”

  Samson sweetened her coffee and handed the ceramic cup to her. “You needed the rest.”

  She sat up and took a long sip. “We should enjoy the island today. Let’s grab a quick breakfast and do a little shopping.”

  * * *

  Alyson took Samson to a hidden jewel along the beach, an authentic Caribbean restaurant with Bahamian cooks. They chatted casually while enjoying hearty plates of grits, corned beef, jack mackerel, bowls of fish stew and johnnycakes that tasted remarkably like her mother’s.