Carla Cassidy

Her Secret, His Duty


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      They stepped outside into the bracing air. “It’s after eleven. Do you want to go someplace for a quick lunch before you head back to the office?” he asked.

      He could tell that he’d surprised her by the look on her face. “Oh, no, thanks. I really need to get back to work. All I need from you is a guest list as quickly as possible so that we can get the invitations out.”

      “I’ll work on it this afternoon and how about I drop it by your place this evening? That way you’ll have it first thing in the morning to start working on. I’ve got business meetings tomorrow that will keep me at Adair Enterprises for most of the day. You’ll be home this evening?”

      “Yes, I’ll be home by six-thirty or so.”

      He shoved his hands into his coat pockets, noting how the brisk breeze whipped a pretty pink into her cheeks. “How are things with Larry?” It was the first time either of them had made any mention of what had transpired six weeks ago.

      “It’s Barry, and things are fine. He’s gone and I’m happy. He was nothing but a creep.”

      “You seemed pretty upset about the breakup,” Trey replied.

      The pink in her cheeks was definitely brighter now and he had a feeling it had nothing to do with the weather. “I was mostly upset because I intended to break up with him that night and he beat me to the punch and broke up with me first.” She looked toward her car and shifted from one foot to the other, as if wishing for an immediate escape route.

      “Okay then, I guess I’ll see you later this evening. Shall we say around seven?” he asked.

      She nodded. “That would be fine.” With a murmured goodbye she made her escape, hurrying away from him as if unable to get out of his presence fast enough.

      He frowned as he headed for his own car. He found it impossible to discern what Debra thought of him. In all the years he’d known her, he’d never been able to figure out if she actually liked him or not. The night of sharing a bed and hot sex hadn’t changed the fact that he didn’t know what to think about her or what she might think about him.

      And it irritated him that he cared. He got into his car and tried to push thoughts of Debra Prentice away. He had so many other things to focus on, like how he intended to continue to run the successful Adair Enterprises at the same time he launched a campaign.

      Grandfather Walt would be proud of him. The old man was probably dancing with the angels at Trey’s decision to enter the world of politics. Running the family business and politics had been what the old man had wanted for him.

      Trey knew he had a good chance of winning. He didn’t lean too far left or too far to the right. His politics were middle-of-the-road. He’d already proven his business acumen in the success of Adair Enterprises and he knew he’d made a reputation for himself as a hard worker and decent man who was willing to compromise when it was necessary.

      In the course of doing business, he’d made enemies, but he knew that his opponents would have a hard time slinging mud at him.

      He’d always been the good son, the firstborn who had excelled in college, had taken the family business into a new level of success and had never done drugs or slept with married women. He’d never taken pictures of his body parts and put them online.

      In fact, he’d worked hard to keep his nose clean for just this time. Walt had wanted this for him since Trey was old enough to understand the world of politics and now Trey wanted it for himself.

      He knew Cecily would put more pressure on him now for the announcement of their engagement. She would reason that an engaged or newly married candidate only made a man more appealing to the masses. It suggested stability and commitment, considered good character traits by voters.

      She was right, but he wasn’t ready yet to pop the question to her. Maybe he’d ask her to marry him once the dinner party was finished. The event would be his first real step in declaring himself ready to be a serious contender and at the moment he needed all his energy and attention focused on that.

      The main office of Adair Enterprises was located in downtown Raleigh, but they also had offices in Seattle and factories in Durham and Iowa.

      The company had been started by his mother’s grandfather in the 1930s as a shipping company for tobacco and local farmers to get their products across the country.

      When Walt had taken over, the business had evolved into shipping containers and then to plastics and Trey had transformed it once again into a company also known for computer systems.

      One of the strengths of the business was in its ability to be ever-changing with the times, and Trey prided himself on not only being a visionary, but also smart enough to hire equally driven and bright people to work with him.

      As he walked through the glass doors of the building he was instantly greeted by security guard Jason Ridgeway. “Good morning, Mr. Winston.”

      “Morning, Jason. How are Stella and the kids doing?”

      “Great, everyone is great.”

      “Billy’s broken arm healing all right?”

      Jason nodded. “The cast is due to come off sometime next week. I swear that kid is going to age me before my time.”

      Trey laughed. “Just keep him out of trees,” he said and then with a wave headed to the bank of elevators that would take him to the top floor of the building and his personal office.

      The elevator opened into a spacious airy reception area and Rhonda Wilson sat behind the large, modern reception desk. Rhonda was part beauty, part bulldog, the perfect final gatekeeper to Trey.

      In her mid-fifties, Rhonda was tall and broad shouldered. She could be exceedingly pleasant and was fiercely devoted to Trey, but she also could tear a new one in any reporter or the like who tried to breach Trey’s privacy.

      “Good morning, boss,” she greeted him with a pleasant smile.

      “It’s almost twelve,” he replied. “Hopefully you’re going to tell me I have nothing on my calendar for the rest of the afternoon?”

      “You have nothing on your calendar for the rest of the afternoon,” she repeated dutifully. “Although you do have a ton of phone messages on your desk.”

      “As usual,” he replied as he took off his coat. “Could you order a roast-beef sub for me and keep everyone out of my hair for the next couple of hours?”

      “No problem.” She picked up the phone to call the nearby restaurant Trey often ordered his lunch from as Trey went into the inner sanctum that often felt more like home than his huge new mansion just outside the Raleigh beltline.

      His personal office was the size of a large apartment. Not only did it boast a desk the size of a small boat, but also a sitting area complete with sofa and chairs, a minibar and a bathroom that had both a shower and sauna, and a large walk-in closet.

      There had been many nights when working on an intricate deal that Trey had slept on the sofa and then awakened the next morning to shower and dress for another day of mergers or hiccups that needed to be solved.

      He tossed his coat on the back of the sleek leather sofa and then took his place at his desk and powered up the state-of-the-art computer system that allowed him to monitor every area of the business, video chat with managers in other parts of the country and stay on top of each and every problem that might arise.

      Today he did a cursory check of emails to make sure there were no major issues at any of the plants or offices. He quickly flew through the phone messages, setting aside the ones he intended to return later and then pulled up his list of contacts and began to work on an invitation list for the dinner.

      He wanted his friends and business associates there, but he knew it was even more important that invitations went to labor-union leaders, local and state government officials, and political backers who could bring both clout and campaign contributions.