to spend time. Located at the back of the townhouse, the windows looked out on a lush flower garden she’d planted last spring, although now there was nothing to see but dormant plants and the redbrick tiers of the flowerbeds.
Above the butcher-block center island hung a rack with gleaming copper-bottomed pots and pans. The counters not only held the coffeepot but a variety of small appliances she used on a regular basis on the weekends.
“You like to cook,” he said as he looked around with obvious interest.
“On the weekends,” she replied as she reached with slightly nervous fingers to get two of her nicest black mugs down from the cabinet. She swallowed hard as she nearly dropped one. Get a grip, she commanded herself.
She poured the coffee and managed to deliver both cups to the table without incident. “Sugar? Cream?”
“Black is fine,” he replied.
She sank down onto the chair opposite him, wondering how it was possible that his mere presence diminished the size of her kitchen and sucked up the energy, making her feel slightly lightheaded, as if she was suffering from a lack of oxygen.
“What kind of food do you like to cook?” he asked, his big hands cradling the coffee mug.
“Anything...everything, whatever sounds good. I try to do a new recipe every weekend on Sunday. Last week it was chicken malai curry, an Indian dish. The week before that was spicy cherry pork stir fry.”
“Sounds delicious and adventurous,” he replied, his head cocked slightly to one side and his gaze intent on her as if trying to see inside her head.
She forced a dry laugh. “Adventurous isn’t exactly an adjective that is normally used when describing me.” She mentally begged him not to mention the night they’d spent together, a night that had been out of character for both of them. She’d definitely been adventurous and bold then.
“Efficient and driven. Sweet but with a touch of barracuda,” he replied. He took a sip of his coffee and then set the mug back down. “That’s how I would describe you. I was impressed with how you handled the negotiations today with Stacy.”
“Thanks. We’ll see how well I did when I get the menus and floor plans from her in the morning,” she replied, beginning to relax. “And we never discussed what your budget was for the event.”
“Whatever it takes to do it right,” he replied.
“Everything needs a budget, Trey,” she admonished. “If you can’t stick to a budget, then how can the voters trust you with their tax dollars?”
“Okay.” He named an amount that was adequate and yet not too extravagant. “We’ll use that figure as our budget. What do you think about my decision to run for senator?”
She looked at him, surprised he would care one way or the other what she thought about it. She took a sip of her coffee, unwilling to give him a quick, flippant answer.
“You’ve always been successful at whatever endeavor you’ve undertaken,” she said thoughtfully. “You have all the qualities to be a great senator, but have you considered how you’re going to juggle the running of Adair Enterprises with the responsibilities of being a state senator? Not only does the job take a lot of hours and work, but campaigning will be a huge commitment of both time and energy.”
“I know, but I’m lucky that I have good people working with me at Adair Enterprises and they will step up to cover whenever I can’t be at the business.” He took another drink. “Has Mom given you any hint as to whether she’s going to take up the challenge and run for president?”
Debra smiled. “Your mother shares a lot with me, but this is one decision she’s keeping pretty close to her chest. I know there is pressure on her from a variety of places to run, but I have no idea what she’s going to decide.”
“She should go for it. She’d be great for the country. Not only is she strong and intelligent, but she’s more than paid her dues and she’s smarter than any of the other schmucks who are making noise about running.”
“You’re preaching to the choir,” Debra replied with a smile. “She’d have my vote in a minute.”
He returned her smile and suddenly the nerves jumped through her veins once again. “This is nice,” he said as his gaze swept the room and lingered on the fireplace. “I’ll bet it’s quite cozy in here when the fire is lit and you have something exotic cooking in the oven or on the stove.”
“It is nice,” she agreed. “Buying this place was the best decision I’ve ever made.”
He finished his coffee and when he set the mug down on the table and looked at her, something in the depths of his eyes caused her to tense warily.
“Debra, about that night...”
“What night?” she said quickly. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She pled with her eyes for him to take it no further. She didn’t want to have a discussion about a night that shouldn’t have happened. A hand automatically fell to her lap, as if in an attempt to hide the secret she carried.
“I’m your mother’s assistant and I’ll do everything I can to help you reach your goal of becoming a North Carolina state senator,” she said softly. “And that’s really all we have to discuss.”
He held her gaze for a long moment and then gave a curt nod of his head and stood. “Thanks for the coffee, Debra, and all your hard work.”
“No problem. One more thing, did you bring me the list of names of people you want to invite?” She got up from the table.
He snapped his finger and grinned at her. “I knew there was a reason I stopped by here. The list is in my coat pocket.”
Together they left the kitchen and went back into the living room where he grabbed his coat from the back of the chair and put it on. He reached into one of the pockets and pulled out the printed list.
“Thanks,” she said as she took it from him. “I’ll get the invitations ordered tomorrow and have them addressed and mailed by the end of the next day. Do you want to look at the invitations before they go out? I was thinking something simple and elegant.”
“I trust your judgment.”
“You can trust me in everything,” she said pointedly, hoping her words were enough to put him at ease about that damned night they’d spent together.
He’d probably wanted to mention it to her to assure himself that she had no plans to take it public. She could probably make a little extra money selling the story to the tabloids.
She could only imagine the salacious headlines if the information got out that he’d slept with a member of his mother’s staff while practically engaged to a wealthy socialite. But he had nothing to worry about where she was concerned.
“You have absolutely nothing to be worried about,” she said to reiterate to him that the secret of their unexpected tryst would remain just that—a secret.
“Then I guess I’ll leave you to the rest of your evening,” he said, and they walked together toward the front door.
“I’ll get in touch with you sometime tomorrow, as soon as I get the things emailed over from Stacy,” she replied, grateful that they’d broached the subject of their night together without really talking about it.
“This dinner party is an important first step and together we’re going to make it amazing,” he said. He gave her one last devastating smile and then stepped out the front door and disappeared into the gloom of a cloudy twilight.
Debra locked the door behind him and leaned against the door. Curse that man. She could still smell the heady scent of his cologne, feel a lingering vibrating energy in the air despite his absence.
She shoved herself off the door with a muttered curse and carried the list of names he’d given her into