Her Secret, His Duty

Chapter 3


Debra arrived home, hung her coat in the hall closet and then raced around like a mad woman to make sure her living room/dining area and the kitchen were spotlessly clean.

She was by nature a neat and tidy woman, so there was little to do, but with the thought that Trey would be seeing her home for the very first time she wanted everything perfect.

She fluffed the red-and-yellow throw pillows on the black sofa twice and dithered over lighting several of the scented candles she normally lit in the evenings. She finally decided against it, not wanting him to believe that she was in any way attempting to create an intimate, romantic setting.

At six forty-five she sat down on the edge of the sofa and told herself she was acting completely ridiculous. Trey probably wouldn’t even take a step into the small, gleaming hardwood-floor foyer. He’d meet her at the door, hand her the list of names he’d prepared and then leave with his mission accomplished.

The last thing Trey Winston cared about was sitting around and chatting with his mother’s assistant. Debra had eaten on the way home from the estate and had put on coffee, which now filled the air with its freshly brewed scent.

The coffee wasn’t for him. She always made coffee or hot tea when she got home from work, especially at this time of year when outside the cold knocked on every window and attempted to seep into every crack.

She was thankful that the townhouse seemed well insulated and she loved to keep the thermostat low and build a nice fire in the stone see-through fireplace that was between the living room and kitchen.

There were no flames in the fireplace now. Again, she didn’t want Trey to get any ideas that she had any thought about another encounter with him. The last thing she wanted was to come off as some pathetic one-night stand who didn’t understand exactly what she’d been.

She’d changed out of her suit and into a pair of comfortable jeans and a mint-green fleece sweatshirt. She hadn’t even bothered to check herself in a mirror as she’d left her upstairs bedroom to come down here to wait for Trey’s appearance.

She jumped when the doorbell rang, nerves jangling discordantly through her as she got up from the sofa and hurried to answer.

Her breath caught slightly in her throat as she opened the door and he smiled at her. Trey Winston definitely had a killer smile, all white straight teeth and warmth. “Hi,” he said.

“Hi,” she replied.

His smile widened, crinkling the corners of his eyes. “Are you going to invite me in?”

“Oh, of course...if you want to come in... I mean you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“Thanks, I’d love to come in.” He swept past her, trailing the bold scent of his cologne as she quickly closed the front door and followed him into her living room.

He shrugged out of his coat and slung it across the back of one of the two chairs that faced the sofa as if he’d done it a hundred times before. He’d changed clothes, too. Instead of his usual suit, he was dressed in a pair of casual black slacks and a white polo shirt that hugged his shoulders and chest as if specifically tailored for him.

“Is that fresh coffee I smell?” he asked.

“Yes, it is. Would you like a cup?” To say that she was shocked to have him not only actually in her townhouse, but also asking for a cup of coffee was an understatement.


“I’d love a cup,” he replied.

She motioned him to the sofa. “Just make yourself comfortable and I’ll bring it in here.”

“I don’t mind sitting in the kitchen,” he said as he followed at her heels. His gaze seemed to take in every nook and corner of the room. “Nice place.”

“Thanks, I like it.” She was grateful when he sank down at the round wooden table with its centerpiece of a crystal bowl with red and yellow flowers.

The kitchen was her favorite place 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 the small chamber just off the living room that served as her home office.

She placed the list on her desk next to her computer and then left the room and returned to the kitchen. She placed Trey’s coffee mug in the dishwasher and silently cursed him for even making her think about that night.

Her body flushed with heat as she thought of how he’d slowly caressed each and every inch of her skin. His kisses had driven her half out of her mind with desire and she knew making love with Trey Winston was an experience she’d never, ever forget.

What bothered her more than anything was the knowledge that even knowing it was wrong, even with the unexpected result that had occurred, she’d do it again in a hot minute.

* * *

Trey wasn’t sure what he had hoped to accomplish by bringing up the night he’d spent with Debra after all this time. Over six weeks had passed and they’d spoken numerous times since then without ever mentioning what had transpired between them.

So, what had he wanted to say to her tonight? What had he wanted her to say to him? That she’d liked being with him? That he’d been a pleasing lover?


He mentally scoffed at his own thoughts. As terrible as it sounded, he probably just wanted to double-check that she didn’t intend to go public with their misdeed, but even thinking that did a disservice to the woman he knew that Debra was. He knew how devoted she was to the family. She would never do anything to hurt any of them in any way.

Instead of heading home to his mansion, he decided to drop in and visit with his grandmother in the nursing home. As he drove his thoughts continued to be filled with Debra.

She’d looked cute as a bug in her jeans and green sweatshirt. He’d never seen her in casual clothes before and the jeans had hugged her long legs, shapely legs that he remembered wrapped around him.

He tightened his grip on the steering wheel, realizing the skies were spitting a bit of ice. January in Raleigh could be surprisingly unpredictable. It might be cold with a bit of snow or ice, or it could be surprisingly mild. Occasionally they got a killer ice storm, but thankfully nothing like that so far this year.

The weather forecast that morning had mentioned the threat of a little frozen precipitation, but nothing for travelers to worry about. Slowing his speed a bit, his thoughts went back to Debra.

Her townhome had surprised him. He’d expected the furnishings to be utilitarian and rather cold, but stepping into her living room had been like being welcomed into a place where he’d wanted to stay and linger awhile.

The living space had been warm and inviting, as had the kitchen, as well. He thought of the stark formal furnishings in his own mansion and for a moment entertained the idea of hiring Debra to do a bit of decorating transformation.

It was a silly thought. If he worked his plan to achieve his ultimate goal, then Cecily would be moving into the mansion and she’d want to put her own personal stamp in place there, although he doubted that Cecily would have the taste for warm and inviting. She’d want formal and expensive. She’d want to create a showcase rather than a home.

He punched the button on his steering wheel that would connect him to phone services. He gave the command to call Cecily on her cell and then waited for her to answer.

“Darling,” her voice chirped through the interior of the car. “I was wondering if I was going to hear from you today.”

“Between work at the office and planning this dinner party, I’ve been swamped.” He could hear from the background noise on her phone that she wasn’t at home. “Where are you now?”

“At a Women’s League meeting. I’m already not-so-subtly campaigning for you, Trey.”

He smiled, certain that she was doing just that. “You know I appreciate it.”

“You’d better,” she replied with a laugh. “Rumor has it your mother is seriously considering running for president. We’ll let her have that position for two terms and then we’ll be ready to move into the White House.”

Trey laughed. “One step at a time, Cecily. This dinner party will let me know if I can get some of the big hitters in town behind me in order to achieve the first step in the process.”

“You can take it one step at a time, but I’m already envisioning what the White House Christmas tree will look like,” she replied with a laugh. “Oh, gotta go. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

She ended the call and Trey shook his head. Cecily McKenna was like a force of nature, unstoppable and powerful and completely in his corner. She would make a perfect ally and support as a wife.

He pulled into the parking lot of the Brookside Nursing Home, an upscale establishment where his grandmother, Eunice, had resided since Walt’s death.

When she’d lost her husband she had spiraled into a depression so deep nobody seemed to be able to pull her out. Trey knew one of the most difficult decisions his mother had made was to move her own mother here instead of keeping her living at the estate. But Eunice needed more than what Kate and the family could provide.

After several months of residency Eunice had appeared to rally from her depression. She seemed quite content where she was, in a small apartmentlike set of rooms with an aid who stayed with her twenty-four hours a day.

He nodded to the security guard on duty outside the front door and entered into a small lobby with a couple of elegant chairs and a front desk.

“Good evening, Mr. Winston,” Amy Fedder, a middle-aged woman behind the reception desk greeted him. He was a frequent visitor and knew most of the people on staff.

“Hi, Amy.” He walked to the desk where there was a sign-in sheet and quickly signed his name and the time he’d arrived. “Have you heard how she’s doing today?”

“I know she had dinner in the dining room and earlier in the day she joined a group of women playing bingo.”

“Then it sounds like it’s been a good day for her,” he replied, a happiness filling him. He adored his grandmother. “Thanks Amy, I’ll see you on my way out.” He left the front desk and headed for the elevator, which would take him to the second floor where his grandmother’s little apartment was located. It amused him that her place was in what the nursing home called the west wing.

There were only forty residents at any given time in Brookside and almost as many staff members. The nursing home catered to the wealthy and powerful who wanted their loved ones in an upscale environment with exceptional care and security. Every member of the staff had undergone intense background and security checks before being hired and there was a front door and a back door, both with an armed security guard on duty at all times.

He got off the elevator and walked down a long hallway, passing several closed doors before he arrived at apartment 211.

He knocked and the door was answered by Serena Sue Sana, a tall beautiful African-American woman who went by the nickname of Sassy. She was of an indeterminable age, but Trey guessed her to be somewhere in her mid-sixties.

“Mr. Trey,” she greeted him, her white teeth flashing in a bright smile. “Come in.” She opened the door wider. “Ms. Eunice will be so happy to see you.” She leaned closer to him. “She’s had a good day but seems a bit agitated this evening,” she whispered.

He nodded and walked into the nice-size living room with a small kitchenette area and doors that led to the bathroom and two bedrooms, one large and one smaller.

His eighty-six-year-old grandmother was where she usually was at this time of the evening, her small frame nearly swallowed up by the comfortable light blue chair surrounding her.

Her silvery-white hair was pulled up neatly into a bun atop her head and her blue eyes lit up and a smile curved her lips at the sight of him. “I know you,” she said, her affection for him thick in her voice.

“And I know you,” Trey replied as he walked over to her and planted a kiss on her forehead.

“I’ll just go on into my room so you two can have a nice private chat,” Sassy said.

“Before you go, would you make this television be quiet?” Eunice held out the remote control to Sassy.

“I’ll take care of it,” Trey replied. He sat in the chair next to Eunice and took the remote control and hit the mute button as Sassy disappeared into the small bedroom and closed the door behind her.

“I love Sassy to death, but she likes to watch the silliest television shows,” Eunice said. “And sometimes I just like to sit and visit with my favorite grandson.”

“I’ll bet you say that to all your grandsons,” Trey said teasingly.

She giggled like a young girl. “You might be right about that.” Her blue eyes, so like Trey’s mother’s, sparkled merrily.

“I heard you played bingo this afternoon,” Trey said.

Her smile instantly transformed into a frown. “Did I...? Yes, yes I did, although I didn’t win. I never win.” She leaned closer to him. “That woman from downstairs in 108 always wins. I think the fix is in.”

Trey laughed and leaned over and covered her frail hand with his. “You don’t have to win all the time.”

Her eyes flashed and her chin jutted forward with a show of stubbornness. “Adairs always win,” she said, her voice strident as she pulled her hand back from his and instead worried the edge of the fringed shawl that was around her shoulders.

“That’s what we do,” she muttered more to herself than to him. “We win.”

“Speaking of winning, have you talked to Mom lately?”

She frowned again in thought. “She called yesterday...or maybe it was the day before.” She shook her head with obvious agitation. “I can’t remember. Sometimes I can’t remember what happened when, except I have lots of memories of when you boys were young. You three were such a handful. But sometimes my brain just gets a bit scrambled.”

“It’s okay,” Trey said gently. “I was just wondering if she told you that I’m considering a run for the Senate.”

Eunice’s eyes widened. “No, she didn’t tell me.” Her fingers threaded through the shawl fringe at a quicker pace. “She never mentioned that to me before.”

“Then I guess she didn’t tell you that we think she’s also considering a run for the White House,” Trey said.

Eunice appeared to freeze in place, the only movement being her gaze darting frantically around the room as if seeking something she’d misplaced and desperately needed to find.


“Grandma, what is it?” Trey asked.

She stood from her chair and began to pace in front of him, her back slightly bent from the osteoporosis that plagued her. “No. No. No.” The word snapped out of her louder and more frantic with each shuffled step of her feet.

Trey stood in an attempt to reach out and draw her back into her chair, but she slapped his hands away and continued to pace.

“This is bad news.... It’s terrible, terrible news.” She stopped her movement and stared at him, her eyes wide with fear. “You shouldn’t do this. She shouldn’t do this. Pandora’s box, that’s all it will be.”

“What are you talking about? Grandma, what are you afraid of?”

Her eyes filled with tears as she looked at him in horror. “Secrets and lies,” she said in a bare whisper.