Gwynne Forster - A Compromising Affair

The three of them went inside arm in arm. Once inside, a tall, good-looking woman in skin-tight jeans and a snug red T-shirt walked toward them. Heather grasped the woman’s arm. “Adelle Smith, this is Scott Galloway. Scott’s just completed a tour as ambassador to Lithuania. Scott, Adelle is one of my law associates.”

They greeted each other, although she seemed a bit more enthusiastic than Scott. “How do you do, Adelle?” he said, preferring not to say that he was delighted to meet her since he wasn’t so sure.

“I’m fine, Scott. Heather has told me so much about you. I couldn’t wait to meet such an impressive man.” Her smile bordered on an invitation, as he realized he was facing a woman who didn’t mind letting a man know that she liked what she saw.

He raised an eyebrow. “Heather, you never used to exaggerate. Does marriage do that to a person?”

“Of course not. I told her you’re like my big brother, and that I’m very protective of you. I also said you’re a super guy.”

Hmm. So he’d have to negotiate with Adelle for the remainder of the weekend, he thought. The problem was that, although she had the goods in all the right places, he did not like aggressive women who chose men on the basis of sex appeal. Besides, she’d made up her mind before she saw him.

Just play it cool, he said to himself. But how was he going to do that when he was sexually starved, and she’d let him know that nourishment was available?

“I’ll show you to your room, Scott,” Heather said, saving the day.

He followed her upstairs. “How far apart are these guest rooms, Heather, and does mine have a lock on the door?” Scott said.

She stopped at the top of the stairs, as her eyes widened and her jaw dropped. She stared at him, utterly speechless. Then she laughed so hard that she practically doubled over clutching her stomach. Scott slapped her on the back to help her recover.

“I’d forgotten how frank you can be,” she said.

“Don’t tell me I struck out.”

“I’m as hungry as an Alaskan wolf at the end of winter. But if I hook up with that one, I’ll never find what I really want.”

“What’s wrong with her?”

“A gentleman never says anything bad about a woman, no matter what the circumstances.”

“Chicken.”

She opened the door to the guest room. He tried the doorknob to make sure that it would lock, looked at Heather and winked.

“You were serious, weren’t you?” Heather said with a note of surprise in her voice.

He didn’t want her to misunderstand him. “Heather, that woman downstairs would take advantage of a drunken sailor. I’ll be down shortly.”

“Scott, please don’t be mad. I meant well,” she said, blinking rapidly, a subtle tic that appeared when she was nonplussed. “Honestly, I did. I’m remembering things about you now that I had forgotten during these past two years while you were away. You’re right. I definitely didn’t choose the right one.”

A grin spread across his face. It was so good to be back with his two dearest friends. “Knowing you, I’m sure you’ve got some more lined up. See you later.”

He let his gaze take in the decor of the room around him. He liked blue, and Heather had furnished the guest room in a light navy blue and rustic orange for a striking effect. He changed into black jeans and a red polo shirt, slipped on his new Reeboks and bounded down the wide, curved staircase. Russ Harrington was indeed a brilliant architect, Scott thought. He’d said as much to Judson.

“All three of them are good at what they do,” said Judson. “They have a tremendous reputation as builders, and Telford, the eldest, is only forty-one. The Harringtons are coming over with their wives after dinner. And the Harrington women have taken to Heather and made her one of their own.”

“So you’re glad you decided to live here?”

“Absolutely! My family is here. Scott, this is where I belong.”

“I’m glad for you, Judson. Say, I brought you guys something,” Scott said, handing Judson a box that contained half a dozen tins of Beluga caviar.

Judson looked at the contents of the box. “Get outta here, man. This stuff is precious. Let me see if Rosa has any crème fraîche.”

Heather looked at the gift. “Crème fraîche? All I need for this is some melba toast or blinis. Scott, you always were a classy guy. Thank you.”

“To tell the truth, it was caviar or vodka, unless I wanted to drag two fur coats home. Not a lot to choose from.”

“I’m not complaining,” Judson said. “Is this dry ice?”

“Yeah. Be careful not to let it burn you.”

Adelle came downstairs after having changed into a red jersey dress that advertised her assets. The four of them sat in the den, which was cozier than the thirty-by-twenty-foot living room with cathedral ceilings.

She saw the caviar on the coffee table and slowly licked the rim of her lips with her tongue, tracing the outline of her mouth in what would have been a great Marilyn Monroe imitation. “Mmm, caviar! This is the kind of delicacy that can make you forget who you are,” she said.

“In that case,” Scott said, “I would avoid it.”

Heather’s face was flush with embarrassment. She dashed into the kitchen, and quickly returned. “Dinner’s ready. Come with me,” she said hastily.

Judson said grace—a habit he’d adopted from the Harringtons—and then the housekeeper, Rosa, began serving the meal, which included broiled grapefruit as an appetizer, prime roast beef, parsleyed potatoes, asparagus and artichoke hearts. A wedge of Stilton cheese, followed by lemon meringue pie, completed the dinner.

“Rosa, you and women like you are the reason why I’m so happy to be back home,” said Scott, as Rosa served the pie. Judson dropped his fork on the dessert plate, and began coughing to avoid choking as he tried to suppress his amusement.

“Mr. Ambassador, you just made my day,” said Rosa, soaking up the praise. “I love to cook, and it makes me happy when I know my people enjoy what I serve them. Thank you, sir.”

Scott had hoped that he’d sent the right message—that he liked simple things, and in his choice of women, he preferred the girl next door. “I just tell it like it is, Rosa. You’re a wonderful cook.”

“What a lovely evening for a walk,” Adelle said, looking at Scott.

“Judson’s cousins and their wives will be over in a few minutes,” Heather said, “and the only reason they’re coming is to see Scott. Maybe you can go for a walk later,” she continued. Minutes later, Drake Harrington, the youngest of the three Harrington brothers, and his wife, Pamela, joined them.

“Damn!” Scott said, looking at Drake when he walked into the room. “I forgot how much alike you and Judson are. Your grandfather had some powerful genes.”

“It’s our private joke,” Drake said, pulling out Pamela’s chair and making himself comfortable. “It’s a good thing we have a sense of humor, ’cause we confuse a lot of people.”

“Right,” Judson added, “and we’re lucky that our wives have become very good friends and don’t mind the resemblance.”

“The first time I saw Judson, I nearly went into shock,” Pamela said. “It took some getting used to.”

Scott observed Adelle surreptitiously. He could have sworn she seemed to salivate, but whether it was because of him or Drake Harrington, he wasn’t sure. Telford Harrington and his brother Russ arrived together, along with their wives, Alexis and Velma, who were sisters. Immediately Velma began entertaining them with her stories, and Scott leaned back in his chair, sipping piña coladas, listening to the various conversations and enjoying the good company. Like a long-lost son, Scott felt that he had come home to surroundings of warmth and love. Adelle Smith was out of her element, and her obvious discomfort showed it.