Carly Phillips - Simply Scandalous

A marriage for the sake of appearances, like the one his parents shared, didn’t interest him. No one benefited from a loveless union—especially not the requisite number of children, born only for show. Children raised by servants and ignored by their parents.

“Open your eyes, son. You never know what’s in front of you. Now, as I was saying about your father and his mayoral ideas. If making your point in private doesn’t work, we can always resort to the headlines. Judge Montgomery’s Son Dating Ex-Hooker. Not that I’m in favor of that approach, mind you—Catherine deserves better.” She pointed to the woman in the corner.

At least now she had a name. He’d need one if he wanted to get to know her better.

“You know how the papers exaggerate about sex,” Emma said. “You’ll be a dropout candidate before you know it.”

He let out a groan. Humoring her was getting more difficult. “I hate to break it to you, Gran, but sex scandals don’t affect approval ratings anymore.”

Emma shrugged. “Maybe not but I can see you’re interested. So go for it with Cat and get caught. My money says the embarrassment will be enough. Your father will call off the campaign.”

Logan shook his head. “You really do have an overactive imagination. There’s no reason to go that far. A press conference minus the candidate will take care of any expectations.”

“And how would that affect your job at the public defender’s office? I happen to know it’s a first step toward opening your own law office down on the docks.”

“Both are my business and as much as I appreciate your concern, I can handle my life without help.”

As if on cue, a large hand slapped Logan on the shoulder. “Good to see you, son. I knew you wouldn’t miss a chance to mingle with your supporters.”

In a move she’d perfected over the years, his grandmother raised an eyebrow and nodded her head, as if to say, I told you so.

He met his father’s gaze. “Of course not. These people are very important.” To Emma, Logan added silently, which was the only reason he’d chosen to attend.

His father puffed out his chest and beamed, obviously misconstruing Logan’s agreement. Logan didn’t bother to explain. The judge would never listen.

“I’m glad you agree. Now you’ve got to learn the art of working a room,” Edgar said.

“What room?” Logan asked, deliberately playing dumb. He glanced at the sky and the clouds that had been steadily rolling in. “I thought this was an outdoor garden party, not a political fund-raiser.”

“I like your sense of humor, son.”

Behind the judge’s back, Emma caught Logan’s attention with a wave. She rolled her eyes and they shared a silent laugh at the judge’s single-mindedness.

“Glad you’re amused,” Logan muttered.

“Yes, but you know as well as I do that behind every event there is a purpose,” the older man said. “The fact that you showed up for this is telling.” He adjusted the lapels of his jacket.

Logan waited a beat before walking around and placing an arm around his grandmother’s shoulder. “The only thing my appearance should tell you is I wouldn’t miss one of Emma’s extravaganzas. Beyond that, I have no purpose or hidden agenda.”

He gave the older woman a loving squeeze. Her frailty stunned him a moment before he reassured himself. Behind the aging body lay an agile mind and a generous spirit.

“I promised him a good time, something you’ve never learned how to have.” An irreverent gleam sparkled in the older woman’s gaze.

The judge shot his mother a warning look then faced Logan once more. “We need to talk.”

Logan studied his father. With his dark double-breasted suit and air of authority, Judge Montgomery appeared every inch the man in control of his domain. Too bad for him Logan no longer lived within that realm, nor could he be manipulated. “There’s nothing to discuss.”

The judge shook his head. “I want what’s best for you, son, and that means putting you in public office.”

“Placing me in office is what’s best for you. You want me to carry on the political tradition. I want to live my own life.”

“You’re young.” He clapped Logan on the shoulder. “You’ll come around.”

Logan raised an eyebrow. “You’re probably right. After all, I bought my house even after you put a down payment on a penthouse apartment in Boston. I took the P.D.’s job even after you pulled strings at Fitch and Fitzwater, the leading firm downtown.” He shrugged. “I suppose if you hold your breath long enough, I might come around after all.”

Edgar narrowed his eyes. “This is your influence,” the judge said to his mother.

“If so, I’m proud of him. And you should be, too,” Emma said. “Shame on you, Edgar. I raised you better than this.”

“Logan, see to it your grandmother gets some rest. She’s cranky. We’ll talk more later.” He issued his commands and, without awaiting a response, he turned and strode toward his guests.

“He’s determined,” Emma said.

“I’m more determined.” But Logan was also tired of the battle. A part of him wished he didn’t have to fight his father for every step he took in his own life.

“Still think you don’t need my help?” Emma asked.

“I love you for your concern but I can handle the judge alone.”

“But her kind of help would be so much more fun,” his grandmother said, her gaze shifting from him.

Logan followed her glance at the woman standing on a chair, adjusting a speaker, and he had to agree. Still, no matter how tempting, he wouldn’t use an innocent woman as a pawn in his family’s game.

But that didn’t mean he couldn’t pursue this attraction and get to know her for his own reasons. As Emma had probably predicted, she fascinated him in a way few women did and he wanted to know why. He placed the champagne glass down on a passing server’s tray.

“I’m here if you need backup,” Emma said.

He kissed the older woman’s weathered cheek. “I’m sure I can handle it,” he said wryly. He glanced across the lawn to where Catherine had settled back into bartender mode.

She handled the bottles and glasses with ease. Logan grinned at the sight. One of the cocktail waitresses paused and whispered something in her ear. Catherine bolted from behind the bar and headed toward the house. Without her presence, the bar loomed as empty and boring as the party had minutes earlier.

Logan sighed, seeing opportunity vanish at least for the moment.

“She’s got the goodies,” Emma said. “She’ll be back.”

“I believe drinks or liquor is the politically correct term these days.” He couldn’t help but needle his grandmother.

His gaze followed Catherine’s retreating form. The well-shaped bottom and trim waist were a sight to behold before she disappeared inside the open French doors.

Emma cleared her throat. “From your perspective I’d say she’s got the goodies,” she said with a laugh.

He chuckled. “I’d say you were right.”

A SEXY MAN HAD been watching Catherine for the last fifteen minutes. He had dark hair, model-like looks, and a penetrating stare that made her muscles weak and her heart flutter. She couldn’t imagine what sparked his interest when there were dozens of other women at the party. Female guests dressed in silky dresses and flowing chiffon skirts, beautiful women with perfectly manicured nails and hair straight from the beauty salon.

Catherine’s sneakers—comfortable shoes for a day of working on her feet—squeaked as she crossed the gleaming marble floors. She cringed and kept going. Years had passed since she had felt this…inadequate, she thought, coming up with the right word. She glanced down at her working outfit, the same one she wore to any party her company catered. Instead of feeling comfortable in her own skin, she felt out of place and transported back in time, to when she and her sister had been the Luck girls from the wrong side of the tracks.