Indecent Encounter: The Silverhaus Affair (10 page)

B
y the time
I grabbed a towel and wrapped it around my waist, Chelsea had disappeared inside the servants’ cottage. I went for the door but froze at the steps to the porch. She was right. I was a liar. I hired her on a whim to annoy my father. It had been a dirty trick, a petty rebellion that had amounted to nothing, and now all I’d done was make a mess of everything.

I forced myself to move forward placing a hand on the doorknob and pushed it open slightly. Inside, I saw Jamison appear from his room and head up the attic stairs. As he passed, he shot me an icy look that hit harder than any spoken rebuke. I knew what Jamison would say. I was a jackass. Too wrapped up in my own anger and frustration to realize how I hurt others. But I was pissed, mostly at myself, and that meant I was blind to pretty much everything around me.

Time to reap the consequences of my decidedly asshole actions.

I started to step inside, ready to do whatever it took to make things right with Chelsea, but before I could do anything, a woman spoke from behind me.

“Going for a swim?”

I pulled the door shut, dropped my hand, and reluctantly turned to see April. There she was, trouble herself, poised at the end of the sidewalk, balanced on tall, gold sandals with one hand on the ripe curve of her hip. She wore a white bikini that looked like nothing more than three triangles of fabric and some string barely covering her purchased tan. For a brief moment, an image of her stepping out of the water with her spray tan puddling around her feet, popped into my head. I would’ve laughed if I hadn't been so annoyed with her bad timing.

“Just got out,” I said, “the pool’s all yours.” I kept my voice even, trying to give her the hint to go away and leave me the hell alone.

“Too bad, you should change your mind,” she said and tossed her carefully arranged curls. Like she even had any intentions of swimming with that perfect hair and all that make-up. Who was she kidding?

There was no way I could talk to Chelsea now, not with April ogling my bare chest, and probably trying to imagine what I looked like without the towel. Even in my wildest days, I'd never fucked April. I had some standards.

“You’re up early.”

She flipped a hand in the air and said, “I’m not used to fending for myself. Don’t get me wrong, your guest cottage is quaint, but it’s like Siberia up there. I came through the main house, but couldn’t find anyone. Do you think your maid could bring me some tea?”

My mouth tightened. “Everything is set up in the dining room, help yourself.”

“Well, you must be hungry after your swim. I’ll join you,” April said.

I tried to step past her without brushing against her mountainous breasts, but all it did was leave me straight in front of her, face to face. She batted her eyelashes and rolled her hips into another pose. She looked me up and down practically licking her lips, and purred, “Showering first? Like I said, I’ll join you.”

I darted to the side, stepping over a flowering shrub and hopping on one foot, in an awkward effort to stop her from following me. “Maybe I’ll see you in the dining room.” I gave her an insincere smile and took off.

I felt April glaring at me as I cut across the pool deck and up the private staircase that led to my master suite. I stopped on the balcony, not to look at April but to glance over at the servants’ cottage. Hopefully, Jamison would work his magic and save my sorry ass like he’d always done in the past. Maybe he could talk to Chelsea and smooth things over. She was probably packing her bags right now, but if Chelsea left, I’d be kicking myself for the rest of my life.

A tight knot pinched the pit of my stomach, and I pounded a fist against the balcony railing. I yanked the door closed behind me and headed for the shower. I’d accused Chelsea of being like April, a manipulative climber only interested in using me as a rung on the ladder to her Hollywood success. If anything, Chelsea was the complete opposite of that cloying, calculating...

Fuck!
I jumped back.

I’d turned on the shower and stepped under the spray, not realizing the water was scalding. As I adjusted the temperature, I rolled over my past decisions in my head. I’d already made huge mistakes where my movie was concerned before Chelsea even arrived. I should’ve handled the entire project completely independent of my father and Silver House Productions. The truth was I hadn't thought I could do it alone. I'd been afraid I wasn’t good enough and everything would end in failure.

So I'd pitched the idea of Silver House having an independent niche. It had sounded like a great idea, a way to move the company forward, but at its heart, it had just been another way for me to keep living a comfortable life and never really put myself out there. Without the backing of my father’s financiers, I would’ve had to raise the money on my own, make all the choices on my own, and accept full responsibility for the movie’s success or failure.

Then Chelsea had come along and made me want to try. For a short while, it'd even worked. It seemed like everything had been going great, and then my father had to come over for dinner and made me feel like a child playing house at my own table. I slapped my hands against the shower wall.
Damn him.
And April too
. She’d wormed her way between Chelsea and me, the same way she had wormed her way into a lead role. Except I couldn't completely blame them. I'd seen the way they treated Chelsea, and I'd said nothing. I was failing everything and everyone that was important to me.

As I turned off the shower and paced the long, galley-shaped bathroom, my mind tore over the same terrain I’d tried to map for months. Could I scrap the entire production and start over completely on my own? That would let down hundreds of people already lined up to work.
Damn it.
It was too big, and it was already in motion.

At least I could take care of one issue and fire April. Henry would be pissed, but he couldn't do anything to me, or scrap the movie without losing more money. All he ever cared about was the money.
Thanks Dad, for putting your son first.

Bitter thoughts conspired against me, and my mind backtracked to cover the same ground again. I was paralyzed by the idea of making the wrong decision. What if my dad was right? What if I was like my brother, David, and no matter what I did, I always made things worse?

The ring of my cell phone on my dresser snapped me out of my dark thoughts, and I went into the bedroom to answer it.

I smiled at the screen, and pressed the phone to my ear. “Carrie…”

“Hey, kiddo, it’s me,” a sweet voice said.

“Thank god. How’d you know I needed to hear from the voice of reason?” I flopped onto my bed, my shoulders relaxing as I sunk into its softness.

My sister-in-law always had a clear head, a trait she’d honed when David’s addiction had grown worse and forced her into unthinkable situations. Even if the world were on fire, Carrie would rise up and find the right perspective.

“I know Henry came for dinner last night, so I figured you might need to hear a friendly voice,” she said.

“He asked Jamison to make David’s favorite,” I said.

“The roast? That figures. He must’ve had some sort of sales pitch he wanted to shove down your throat. Let me guess, he made sure to mention David’s mistakes,” Carrie laughed.

The mention of David still hurt us both, but she refused to let either of us avoid his name. We remembered the good and the bad.

“We had a guest,” I continued. “April Temple, so at least Henry tried to be discreet about it.”

“That scream-queen?” Carried asked. “Oh, god, please tell me you didn’t have to hire her for your movie.”

I groaned and sank deeper into the bed. “I wish I had David’s confidence. He just went for what he wanted, no matter what it was.”

“And you’re too worried about making a mistake,” she said with a soft voice.

“The irony is that I tried to avoid a mistake, and instead I’ve just screwed everything up, royally. I’m an ass, Carrie. Why do you even talk to me?”

She laughed, “Well, I was going to stop because you’re so boring, but now this sounds juicy. Does this have anything to do with your pretty visitor from Oregon?”

Carrie knew the entire story about Chelsea, but she wasn’t like the others. She always treated people with dignity and respect no matter what their station in life. She saw the best in everybody, including me.

“It’s too late. I’m afraid my asinine behavior has already sent her packing. If I didn’t have my head up my ass half the time, I would’ve seen this coming,” I said.

“What happened?” Carrie asked. “I had such high hopes. You know she’s the first woman you’ve ever talked about that really seemed to matter.”

I rubbed my head. “Really? What did I say?”

“Right after she arrived I asked about your new maid and you told me not to call her that. You said she was more like Jamison, like a friend…” Carrie’s voice rose in a question. “Now she’s more than a friend?”

“Except for the part where I was a dickhead and said awful things to her and now she’s leaving.” I winced just thinking about my atrocious behavior.

“Oh, I see. Well, you know the one mistake your brother never made?” Carrie didn’t have to say. I knew what was coming. “He was never afraid to admit what he wanted, and then go after it.”

I smiled and asked, “Is that how he got you?”

“Exactly. Now figure out what you want and go get it, kiddo.”

“
C
helsea
, you can stop sneaking around. Alex has locked himself in his office and probably won’t come out for the rest of the day.” Jamison gave me a sideways glance as he looked up from preparing the dinner menu.

“It’s not just him I’m avoiding,” I said turning to him while holding a package of Negerzoenen cookies. These heavenly cookies were made of a chocolate covered fluffy, white center. No wonder they were also called Angel Kisses.

“April?” Jamison snorted, “She’s gone shopping, of course. So, you can stop sorting the pantry and get some fresh air.”

“Fine,” I said, and plopped the package back on the shelf. I contemplated taking a cookie with me just to sweeten my mood. They really were one of the best chocolate delicacies I’d tasted since I’d been in Holland, but instead I grumbled, “I’ll head down the driveway and replant the urns by the gate.”

I needed to keep busy. The voice in my head was still telling me to move on, that I was just wasting my time here hanging on to a thread of hope so thin that it had no chance of surviving. It was hard to ignore it without something else to occupy myself.

“Here…” Jamison stretched out his hand holding a pair of heavy, blue gardening gloves. “I bought these for you while I was out the other day.”

I took the gloves and noticed the wrists were embroidered with Lilies of the Valley entwined around the letter ‘C.’

“My favorite flower,” I whispered.

Jamison cleared his throat. “I had them made for you. It’s nice to have someone around the house that enjoys gardening as much as I do.”

I blinked back tears and kissed Jamison on the cheek before hurrying out the door. Caring for the gardens was a joy to him as was cooking and keeping a neat house. I was beginning to feel the same way about my work. If only Henry and April hadn’t cheapened the feeling, I might've truly enjoyed my summer job.

Lost in my thoughts, I flung open the front door and nearly tripped over a little girl standing on the porch. She brushed back her white-blonde hair and smiled up at me.

“I’m sorry, can I help you?” I asked.

“Daddy told me to come by a lot because good memories are here,” she said, still smiling.

“Daddy?” I asked as I leaned heavily against the thick doorframe.

“Emily, I told you to wait. Did you even ring the bell?” a sweet voice called out.

I blinked and the stunning blonde woman I’d seen Alex embrace, the one he and Jamison wouldn't talk about, glided up the steps and took the little girl’s hand.

“Hello, I’m Carrie,” she said and held out an elegant hand.

“Ah, hello, my name's Chelsea,” I managed. Suddenly, it felt like my ears were ringing and I fought the urge to shake my head. I’d had a hard time hearing anything after “daddy.” The girl resembled her mother, but her father's features were there too.

“Emily wanted to stop by with a letter for Alex. She drew him a picture and everything, didn’t you, sweetie?”

Emily nodded, “I liked swimming in the pool. Daddy did the best cannonballs.”

She opened the loose envelope and pulled out her drawing. It was a man and a little girl holding hands. Squiggly blue lines at the bottom of the page were clearly the pool, and underneath, in graceful cursive, was written:
You can always talk to me and we’ll always be here for you. Love, C
.

“It’s nice to meet you, Chelsea. Are you enjoying Holland?” Carrie asked. “I hope our Alex hasn’t been too gruff with you. He doesn’t let people in very easily.”

Before I could make sense of what she was saying, the ringing in my ears was replaced by the sick thump of my heart. This gorgeous woman was exactly who I imagined a man like Alex would marry. Maybe they were separated or divorced, but she was definitely trying to reconcile. Obviously, he wanted Emily to visit and remember the good memories.

I jumped out of the doorway as if it had burned me. Here I was standing in the way, an obstacle to this beautiful family. Guilt flooded through me, and I suddenly felt like throwing up.

“He’s locked himself in his office,” I blurted out.

Carrie smiled, “Yeah, he does that sometimes. Not to worry, dear. Could you give him Emily’s letter?”

“Yes, of course. It was nice to meet you,” I said and inched around them. “I told Jamison I would work on the flower pots.” I gave a weak smile and nodded in the direction of the urns. “Have a nice day.”

I took off down the driveway and had to press the garden gloves to my mouth to keep from screaming.
Oh, my god!
He was married. At least in my mind I was already convincing myself that they were still married. Why hadn’t I seen it before? Alex was married to the perfect woman and they had a beautiful daughter. I'd thrown myself at him and almost ruined that little girl's family. No wonder he wanted nothing to do with me. What we'd done could cost him his wife and child.

I felt as if my heart was imploding inside my chest. I stopped dead in the driveway, still gasping for air, hoping no one was watching, when I realized the worst part. I only felt this broken-hearted because I was falling in love with Alex.

T
he gorgeous Carrie
and little Emily stayed for lunch, and I could hear laughter ringing out from the main house as I worked. Even though my arms felt like lead, I managed to replant the flowerpots. I purposely dallied, trying to waste time so as not to have a reason to go back inside. I was aimlessly digging in the dirt and smoothing it down for the tenth time when the wrought-iron gates at the end of the drive swung open.

I barely had time to dive out of the way before the Mercedes barreled through and sped up the driveway. Henry had loaned April the sleek, silver car, which she treated like it was some sort of present she was entitled to. The radio was blaring bright American pop music, and I could smell the clove cigarettes April smoked on the sly.

I tried to hide behind the greenery in the giant planters, but April spotted me. She tore off her over-sized, white sunglasses and the car screeched to a halt.

April leaned over and called through the open car window. “I hope you don’t think you’re Cinderella.”

I looked down at my dirt-encrusted hands and arms. I certainly looked the part.

“Has the butler talked to you yet?” April asked. “I left a complaint with him this morning about the cleanliness of the guest cottage. Definitely not five-star work, and I refuse to stay in it a moment longer.”

Although I was tempted to flip her off and sneer, I simply smiled and asked, “Should I run up and gather your things? I could have everything packed for you and down here in twenty minutes.”

“Nice try.” April glowered at me. “But the butler agreed you should come up to the guest cottage today and set things right, bring it up to my standards.”

I stood up and brushed more dirt off my pants. “I’ll go find Jamison.” I wasn’t going to let her get to me, again. I refused to give her that kind of power. Once this summer was over, I never intended to see her again. It wasn't worth losing my brother's future.

April laughed, “Would he really want you tracking dirt through the main house? I don’t think Alex would approve of that. I’ll go find him, you just head up to the guest cottage.”

She stepped on the gas and roared the few yards up to the front steps of the house. I shot a glare at the back of the Mercedes that could’ve burned a nuclear hole in it. The car ground to a halt just behind Carrie’s black sedan and April jumped out, leaving the car door open. She popped the trunk and left it open, too, as she sauntered up the front steps.

Jamison came to the front door and was already unloading April’s shopping when I caught up and joined him.

“Someone’s been busy,” he mumbled.

We could hear April standing in the foyer calling out Alex’s name. No one answered. I thought of the laughter I’d heard minutes before she’d arrived, and I almost smiled. From the sounds of it, somewhere in the house Alex, Carrie, and Emily were obviously having a good time together. I just wished I could be there to see the look on April’s face when she saw who her real competition was. No matter what I felt toward Alex, I knew there was no way he'd choose April over Carrie and Emily.

“Jamison, have you seen Alex?” April asked, coming back out onto the front steps. “I need to speak to him.”

Jamison hefted an armful of shopping bags up the steps and said, “He may have gone to work.”

“Well, someone has to do something about the state of the guest cottage. It’s disgusting.” April seemed oblivious to the fact that she was blocking Jamison’s way.

He balanced the parcels and asked, “Disgusting? How’s that possible, Ms. April? You were quite content with it just the other evening.”

April snorted, “I was just being polite.”

“How may I be of service, Ms. April?” he asked, straining under the weight of her parcels.

“You can send your girl there up to the guest cottage to spruce it up.”

Jamison, struggling to balance his load and close the trunk, said patiently, “I’ll bring Chelsea to the guest cottage myself as soon as we’ve taken care of a few things for Mr. Alex.”

He stepped around April and went into the house. I grabbed as many shopping bags as I could carry and followed them inside. When April blocked his way again, Jamison set the packages down in a pile on the floor. He yanked down his suit coat sleeves, and brushed imaginary dust from his jacket.

“Rest assured we will find time to address your concerns, Ms. April,” he said.

“Now is fine,” April said, “Send the girl up to the guest cottage within the hour.”

She turned on her spindly high heels and sauntered back out the front door. We heard the music blare as the Mercedes started up, and April sped out of the driveway.

I glanced at the dirt on my uniform and said, “Let me just change, Jamison and I’ll go to the guest cottage.”

“Not today,” Jamison said, moving to stop me. “I’ll go talk to Alex first.”

“No, don’t bother him. He’s with his family,” I said.

Jamison laid a hand on my shoulder and peered into my face. “Chelsea, what’s the matter?”

I shook off the heavy feeling and said, “Nothing. I don’t mind doing the cleaning. I don’t even mind cleaning the guest cottage for April. As long as I stay focused and think about how it’ll help Karl, then none of it’s a bother.”

“But you don’t need to do those things for April,” Jamison said. “She's not your concern.”

“It’ll keep her out of your way. Consider it a thank you for the gardening gloves.” I tried to force a smile.

“Please,” Jamison said, “you look as if something else has happened since this morning. Did you talk to Alex?”

“No, I haven’t seen him.” I looked at Jamison and couldn’t believe he’d kept something as big as Alex’s wife and child from me, especially when I knew he'd seen Alex and I together. I couldn't believe that he'd put me in that situation. Finally, I confessed, “Well, I met his family on the front steps.”

“His family? You mean Ms. Carrie and little Emily?”

His tone was casual, with just the right amount of confusion. I couldn’t blame him for keeping Alex’s secrets. No matter how well we got along, Alex was his family and I was the outsider. He’d made a point of having no opinion of Alex and his affairs previously, and there was no reason that habit shouldn’t extend to me. Whatever the situation was between Alex and Carrie, no doubt I was the last person Jamison would tell.

The other woman, I thought, disgusted at myself. That was
me
. I'd royally screwed up and I deserved to spend the rest of the day slaving away under April’s command.

“Chelsea, please,” Jamison said as I sidestepped him, “I don’t understand what’s wrong.”

“There’s nothing wrong,” I said stiffly. “I know my place now, and I’ll stick to it.”