A Compromising Affair. Gwynne Forster

in peace. I don’t know, though. Something tells me that if Drake’s around, I won’t have a problem.”

      “What do you mean?”

      “Her mouth looked like it was watering once he arrived.”

      He didn’t need the phone to hear Judson’s laughter. “Come on downstairs, man. Rosa made a fantastic breakfast.”

      Scott dressed for dinner that evening, since he assumed he’d be expected to drive Adelle home to Baltimore. It would also give him the opportunity to let her know in no uncertain terms that he was not interested in her.

      “If you give me the keys to your Mercedes, I’ll drive Adelle back to Baltimore,” Scott said to Judson, in a quiet moment away from the rest of the guests, when they gathered for predinner drinks.

      Judson’s eyebrows shot up. “You sure you want to do that?”

      “It’s the best chance to disabuse her of any notion she has about me. It’ll take me no longer than the half hour or so that it takes me to drive there and back.”

      A grin flashed across Judson’s face. “That time as a bigwig didn’t change you one bit. Glad to see it.” He reached into his trouser pockets, took out two sets of keys and handed the smaller one to Scott. “This is the house key and this is the car key.”

      “Thanks, buddy.”

      After dinner, he tired of waiting for Adelle to announce that she was leaving, so he decided to take matters into his own hands. “Adelle, if you’re going to Baltimore tonight, I’ll be glad to drive you, but we’ll need to leave now.” He felt the tiniest inkling of guilt when he saw her face break out in the warmest smile he’d witnessed, but he quickly shook it off.

      He managed to avoid saying anything personal during the drive to Baltimore. The conversation had been amicable by the time they arrived at her condominium, in what was obviously an upscale neighborhood.

      “Aren’t you coming in?” she asked him, when he opened the car door for her. He stood back and extended his hand for a handshake, leaving her clearly aghast.

      He shook his head. “To do that would send you the wrong message. I’m not interested, Adelle, and I do not mislead women. Good night.” He left her standing in front of her apartment building, walked back to the driver’s side of the car and got in. When she didn’t move, he started the car to let her know that he wasn’t joking. Only then did she turn and enter the building. Ordinarily, he wouldn’t think of being that rude, but he hadn’t met many women like Adelle. He hoped that Pamela Harrington was an observant woman, and that she’d noticed the look in Adelle’s eyes as she ogled Pamela’s husband, Drake.

      “We’re having a barbecue this afternoon,” Heather told Scott at breakfast the next morning, “and all the Harringtons will be here.”

      “What about Tara? And Henry? Is he coming?”

      “Indeed, he is. Henry is the same,” she said. “He’s just as spry and his tongue is as tart as ever. I can’t think of life without Henry.”

      Later that morning, Scott took his swim trunks and walked over to Telford’s house. Henry opened the door for him, and he clasped the frail man in a big hug. “If you gripped me any tighter,” Henry said, “I’d think you were one of those snakes that squeezes the life out of things before devouring them. Thanks for leaving my old bones intact. You look great, and I been expectin’ to see you.”

      “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