A Compromising Affair. Gwynne Forster
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“You’re the one who looks good. You don’t think I’d come to Eagle Park and leave without seeing you, do you?”
“Some people manage to, and in most cases, I’m glad they do.”
“Where’s Tara? She must be a big girl by now.”
“She’s nine and as sweet as she ever was. Tel took her to her piano lessons. You want coffee and something to go with it?”
“Actually, I’d like to take a swim in the pool. I know it’s still a bit cool for that, but I got used to swimming in water that was barely tepid.”
“Looks like it did you good. You’re bigger, but ya ain’t fat.”
He patted Henry’s shoulder. “I can’t afford to get fat, Henry. I’d have to buy all new clothes.”
Alexis swept into the kitchen. “Scott. I thought I heard someone talking, and Henry definitely doesn’t talk to himself. How are you this morning?” Her eyes twinkled with mischief, and he didn’t have to guess why. “I hope you got back safely last night, and in good time.” He stared at her for a minute. She didn’t back down, giving the private joke free rein.
“A guy does what he has to do,” Scott said, playing along. “Is the pool open?”
“Russ opened it up a few weeks back when we had a hot spell. You’re welcome to swim as often as you like.”
“Thanks. In Vilnius I got in the habit of swimming every day, and I miss it already.”
Scott swam a few laps, and then hiked along the Monocacy River. As he walked along the trails, he wished he had a fishing rod and tackle. A profusion of spring flowers—jonquil, wild roses, lotus, morning glory, forsythia, dandelions and other wildflowers—greeted him as he strolled along the riverbank. Squirrels scampered up and down trees and across his path, ignoring him. He loved being alone in such a beautiful, natural environment. But at the moment, he longed for the company of a woman whom he deeply cared for. He made his way back to the Harrington estate, which Telford and his family occupied, and found Henry picking roses that grew beside the house.
“I never paid any attention to these here flowers,” Henry said, “’til Alexis came. She loves for the place to be pretty and elegant. But these here early roses got thorns, so I pick ’em to keep her from getting pricked.”
“You’re a gentleman, Henry. See you at the barbecue.”
Scott returned to Judson’s house, and after showering and changing into a yellow polo shirt and white jeans, he went to the kitchen to find Rosa. “You’ve got a crowd coming,” he said to her. “What can I do to help?”
She looked at him with adoring eyes, since he had become her favorite houseguest. “Maybe I shouldn’t ask you, but, Mr. Ambassador, I think the food should be covered. Can you cover the food with this cotton canvas? The heat from the food will melt plastic wrap, so I bought canvas.”
He took the canvas cloth from her. “For you, anything, Rosa. You’ve helped make my visit a really wonderful experience.” As she melted, he left the kitchen grinning.
“The old boy hasn’t lost his touch,” he said to himself.
Pamela and Drake arrived first. Scott was leaning against a tree, with the sole of his left foot flat against the tree trunk, when he looked up and saw her walking between the couple. Now, there was a woman with grace, charm, dignity, a good measure of femininity in all the right places and beauty to boot. He straightened up, but he stayed where he was. He’d seen that woman somewhere before. But where? Who was she?
As they approached, he went to greet them. “Pamela, Drake,” he said. “How are you?”
“Great,” they said in unison.
“Scott Galloway, this is Denise Miller, my best friend since crib days,” Pamela said.
“I’m glad to meet you,” he said earnestly.
“Me, too, Scott,” Denise said. “Pamela said you just returned from Lithuania. Are you glad to be home?”
“I’m happy to be with my friends, to have a steady supply of fresh produce and to soak up the sun,” he said.
“I haven’t been home yet because my place isn’t ready and my belongings haven’t arrived from Lithuania.” He fell into step with them as they headed toward the back patio and the barbecue.
“Is that what you missed most?” she asked.
Those were the only things he missed that he could talk about. “I missed other things, too—mainly opportunities to be just plain old Scott Galloway.”
Drake walked over toward them, munching on a chicken leg. Scott appreciated—and not for the first time—that he was six feet four inches tall, and equal to Drake and his brothers in stature. Drake dwarfed most men in looks and physique, but not him. And he hoped Denise Miller was well aware of that.
“How’s that barbecue?” he asked Drake, in an effort to stall for time by involving him in conversation. He was interested in Denise Miller, but wanted to go slowly, at least until he figured out why he was so sure he knew her from someplace.
Drake laughed. “It’s a delicious barbecue chicken leg. But if you’re not a leg man, the breasts look pretty good, too.”
“I think I’ll do my own investigation,” Denise said, and left the two of them to enjoy Drake’s joke.
Scott eyed Drake. “Is she annoyed?”
“No, but she’d rather I hadn’t said that. Seems she’d prefer to make a good impression on you, and that surprises me.”
“She didn’t seem particularly interested. Why are you surprised at her wanting to make a good impression?”
“Denise is not easily impressed, but you caught her eye before we saw you. And the closer we got, the more she liked what she saw. Trust me, man, I’m right.”
“She was interesting from afar, but the closer she got, the more interesting she became. Trust me.” They both laughed.
“This is a magnificent house, Drake. Judson said that you and your brothers built it. Russ is a heck of an architect,” said Scott.
“He is that, and his designs are becoming more creative. But, as an engineer, I appreciate his work even more.”
“If I ever build a house, I hope you brothers are still in the business.”
“Unless you plan to build it when you’re ready to retire, I don’t think you have much to worry about.”
“Thanks for the assurance, man. But it’s time I got my act together.”
“Yeah,” Drake