Her Secret, His Duty

Chapter 4


It has to be here, Debra thought frantically as she searched the area on top of her desk. The early morning sun drifted through the office window, letting her know it was getting later and later.

She moved file folders and papers helter-skelter, her heart pounding in her ears as she looked for the missing paperwork. It had to be here, it just had to be.

She distinctly remembered putting the guest list that Trey had given her next to her computer the night before, but it wasn’t there now.

She was already dressed to go to work and had come into the office to grab the list before leaving her place. In a panic she now fell to her hands and knees in the plush carpeting, searching on the floor, hoping that it had somehow drifted off the desk, but it wasn’t there, either.

She checked the wastebasket to make sure it hadn’t fallen into it somehow during the night. Nothing. No list magically appeared.

Half-breathless from her anxious search, she sank down at her desk chair. Think, she commanded herself. After she’d placed it on the desk the night before had she come back in here for any reason and mindlessly placed it elsewhere?

No, she was certain she hadn’t reentered the office again last night. After Trey had left she’d watched a little television and then had gone upstairs to bed. She had not come back into the office.

Was it possible she had sleepwalked and moved the list?

She couldn’t imagine such a thing. As far as she knew she’d never sleepwalked in her life. Besides, she would have had to maneuver herself not just out of her bed, but also down the stairs and into the office all the while being unconscious in sleep.

Impossible. Utterly ridiculous to even entertain such an idea, but the darned list didn’t get up and walk away on its own.

Granted, she’d been unsettled after Trey had left. Maybe she had wandered in here and taken the list someplace else in the house before she’d gone to bed.

With this thought in mind, she jumped out of the chair and raced through the lower level of the house. Her heart pounded in an unsteady rhythm as she checked the kitchen counters, the living-room coffee table and any reasonable place she might have put the list, but it was nowhere to be found.

The thought of calling Trey and asking him for another copy horrified her. She was organized and efficient. She didn’t lose things. So how had she lost such an important piece of paper?

After a run-through of the entire house yielded no results, she finally returned to the kitchen, defeated and knowing she needed to get on the road or she’d definitely be late to work.

She hurried to the refrigerator and opened the freezer to take out a small package of chicken breasts to thaw for dinner and stared at the piece of paper that was slid between them and a frozen pizza.

She grabbed the paper, saw that it was the missing list and hugged it tight to her chest in relief. Hurriedly yanking out the chicken breasts, she set them in the fridge and then raced for the front door, grabbing her purse and coat on the way out.

As she waited for her car to warm up, she folded the guest list and tucked it into her purse, then pulled her coat around her shoulders. She tried to ignore the rapid beating of her heart that still continued, the frantic beat that had begun the moment she’d realized the list was missing.

Heading toward the Winston Estate, she wondered if somehow between last night and this morning her brain had slipped a cog. Had she been so flustered by Trey’s visit that she’d mindlessly placed the list in the freezer?

It was crazy. It was insane, but she couldn’t ignore the fact that she was the only person in the house who could have put the list in the freezer.

Maybe it had something to do with hormones. She had called her doctor to make an appointment for the weekend. Was it possible that pregnancy hormones made you lose your mind? She’d be sure and ask her doctor.

As if to make the day worse, Jerry Cahill was on guard duty as she pulled into the side entrance. The tall, sandy-haired Secret Service man gave her the creeps. He seemed to have some sort of a weird crush on her and had asked her out twice. Both times she’d politely declined but one time last month she’d thought she’d seen him standing on the sidewalk in front of her place and staring at her townhouse.

He stopped her car before she could pull into her usual parking space and motioned for her to roll down her window. “Hey, doll, running a little late this morning, aren’t you?” He leaned too far into her window, invading her personal space.

“Maybe just a few minutes,” she replied.

Jerry had hazel eyes that should have been warm in hue, but instead reminded her of an untamed jungle animal that could spring at a vulnerable throat at any moment.

His breath smelled of peppermint and the fact that he was close enough to smell his breath freaked her out just a little bit.

He held her gaze for a long moment and then stepped back and tapped the top of her car. “Well, I just wanted to tell you to have a good day.”

She rolled up her window and parked her car, feeling revulsion just from the brief encounter. Jerry Cahill might be a Secret Service agent, but that didn’t make him any less of a creep.

She hurried into the house to find Maddie Fitzgerald, head housekeeper, and Myra Henry, head cook, seated at the small table enjoying a cup of coffee together.

“Good morning, Ms. Debra,” Maddie said. Her plump cheeks danced upward with her smile. With red hair cut in a no-nonsense style and her perpetual optimism, Maddie had been around long before Debra. She’d not only been the first person Kate had hired, but she’d helped Kate raise the boys and was intensely devoted to the Winston family, as they all were to her.

“Good morning, ladies,” Debra said. She smiled at Myra and drew in a deep breath. “Is that your famous cinnamon rolls I smell?”

“It is. If you want to get settled into your office I’ll bring you a couple with a nice cup of coffee,” Myra said.

“That sounds heavenly,” Debra replied. “Thanks, Myra.”

She kept her smile pasted on her lips until she reached her office where she hung up her coat and then sank down at her desk. She opened her purse and retrieved the list that Trey had given her.

She’d just set it next to her computer when Myra arrived with a steaming cup of coffee and two large iced cinnamon rolls on an oversize saucer.

“Those look too sinful to eat,” Debra exclaimed as she eyed the goodies.

Myra grinned at her. “I make them special, no calories so there’s no guilt.”

“Yeah, right,” Debra replied with a laugh.

“Enjoy,” Myra said and left the office.

Debra took a sip of the coffee and then got to work typing up the list of names Trey had given her so she’d have a hard copy on her computer. Once it was in the computer she wouldn’t have to worry about losing it again.

She was still troubled twenty minutes later when she had the copy made and leaned back in her chair and drew a deep breath.

“Crisis averted,” she muttered aloud to herself. She picked up one of the cinnamon rolls and took a bite, but her stomach was still in knots because of the morning trauma.

Or was it morning sickness?

She couldn’t think about being pregnant now. She’d think about it after she saw her doctor. Right now she had work to do, not only did she have to pick invitations to be printed and addressed and mailed, there was also the matter of finding a good orchestra to hire for the night of the dinner. Once she got information from Stacy she’d need to meet with Trey to make some final decisions.

It would be easy for her to feel overwhelmed, but Debra knew the way to get things done was focus on one item at a time and not look too far ahead.

Kate’s morning knock came at eight-thirty and Debra instantly got up to join her boss in her office.

“Good morning, Kate,” Debra said as she sat in the chair opposite the desk.

“And a good morning to you,” Kate said with a fond smile. “I’ve already given Haley the things that needed to be taken care of for me this morning. One thing I love about interns is that they’re so eager to please. What I want from you is an update on you and Trey’s visit to the Regent yesterday.”

For the next half an hour Debra filled Kate in on what had transpired at the hotel and where they were in the planning stages.

“I know you’re pulling everything together quickly,” Kate said. “If you need more help, let me know and I’ll assign an assistant for you.”

“Actually, I think Stacy, the hotel event planner is going to be all I need. She seemed to understand exactly what we want, what we need for a successful evening for Trey. I’m expecting her to get me a floor plan and some menu options sometime this morning. That will tell me how good she is at her job.”


“Do you think he’s ready for this?” Kate asked.

“I think he’s more ready than anyone could be,” Debra replied. “I know he’s saying that this dinner party is just to dip his toes in the water to see what kind of support he might have if he decides to run, but I believe he’s already made up his mind. His head is definitely already in the game.”

Kate nodded. “That’s what I believe, too, and Trey never does anything halfway.”

“He’ll make a wonderful senator,” Debra said, unable to keep the passion of her belief out of her voice. “He’ll bring new life and new hope to the people of North Carolina.”

Kate nodded. “I know my son. Even if he decided to be a garbage man he’d be the best in the business. He always does everything well.”

“He’s a chip off the old block,” Debra replied with a smile.

Kate laughed. “Get out of here and get to work on helping my son. I won’t need anything from you today. I know the time constraints you have to get the details of this dinner party under control are incredibly tight, so get to it.”

By the time she got back to her office she’d received a number of emails from Stacy. The young event planner had sent several different seating plans and three menus with prices. Even though she’d had to pull teeth in order for Trey to come up with a budget, Debra intended to negotiate hard to keep costs low and quality high.

She was an old pro at this, having set up dozens of such events in the past for Kate. Despite what Trey had said, budgets always mattered, and it would reflect poorly on his business acumen to not bring the dinner party in as reasonably as possible.

If you wanted the taxpayers to back you, then you had to show a willingness to work within budgets, she thought.

Gathering the emails all together, she knew what she needed now was for she and Trey to have another meeting and make more decisions. She picked up the phone to call him at Adair Enterprises.

The receptionist connected her to him immediately.

“Good morning, Debra.” His deep smooth voice was like a physical caress through the line.

She returned the greeting, although what she wanted to do was tell him about her frantic search for his list that morning, the ridiculousness of finally finding it in the freezer and that Myra’s cinnamon rolls had made her slightly queasy.

Trey told her he intended to come to the house around two and they would meet then to hammer out any decisions that needed to be made. Then they disconnected.

Debra leaned back in her chair and for the first time in years wished she had a best friend. Her entire adult life had been built surrounded by the Winston family. There hadn’t been time for friends outside of the intimacy of the family members.

Certainly her childhood hadn’t been conducive to making friends. She’d never invited anyone to her home, afraid that her classmates might see her mother drunk or hungover. Once she started working for Kate, the work and the family had taken precedence over anything and everyone else.

That had been part of her problem with dating Barry. There had been little time to really grow any meaningful relationship. Although ultimately he’d broken up with her because he told her he wasn’t getting what he needed from her, she’d already intended to break up with him because she’d figured out he was getting what he needed from his married secretary. The jerk.

Maybe it was best that she didn’t have a best friend, she thought as her hand fell to her lap and she caressed her lower belly.

Perhaps she would be tempted to share too much with a best friend, and a secret wasn’t a secret if two people knew about it. And Debra knew better than anyone that she had a secret that had the potential to destroy a career before it began.

* * *

Trey had been disturbed since he’d left the nursing home the night before. His grandmother had become quite agitated before he’d left, frantic as she continued to whisper about secrets and lies.

Sassy had finally come out of her room to deal with the older woman. She’d given Eunice a mild sedative and by the time Trey had left, Eunice had fallen asleep in her chair.

Sassy had assured him that she’d be fine, but as Trey drove to the Winston Estate, he couldn’t help the worry that had been with him since the visit the night before.

He’d always been close to his Adair grandparents and had mourned deeply when Walt had died. Now he was both concerned and confused about his grandmother and after meeting with Debra he intended to speak to his mother about the issue.

The front door of the estate was opened by housekeeper Maddie, who always greeted him as if it had been months since she’d seen him. “And aren’t you looking just fine today,” she said as she took his coat from him. “You know I’ve always liked you in a nice blue suit, it makes those eyes of yours downright beautiful.”

Trey laughed. “You’ve been charming me since I was a baby, Maddie, and the years haven’t changed anything a bit. I’m assuming Debra is in?”

“Holed up in that little office of hers as usual.”

“Would you tell her that I’m here and that I’ll meet her in the sitting room?”

“I’d be happy to. Tea or coffee? Maybe a plate of cookies?” she asked, knowing his weakness for sweets.

“Coffee and what kind of cookies?” he asked.

She smiled at him slyly. “Does it really matter?”

He laughed. “No, it doesn’t, not as long as Myra baked them. Okay, a couple of cookies would be good.” He was still smiling as he entered the informal sitting room where the afternoon sun flooded through the floor to ceiling windows at one end.

The weather system that had brought the little bit of icing the night before had moved on, leaving behind blue skies and sunshine.

Trey sank into one of two beige easy chairs in front of the windows, enjoying the warmth of the sun on his back. Within seconds Myra entered the room, carrying with her a tray that held a small coffeepot, two cups and a plate of oatmeal-raisin cookies he knew would be soft and gooey, just the way he liked them.

“Thanks, Myra,” he told the cook, who nodded and then left him alone in the room.

He poured the coffee into the two cups and thought about having coffee in Debra’s townhome the night before. She was bright and sweet and easy to be around. Last night as he’d sat in her kitchen he’d felt more relaxed than he had in months and he thought it had not been just the cozy surroundings, but also her company.

She didn’t seem to have one high-maintenance bone in her body. He found her blushes charming and the fact that she cooked something special and new just to please herself each Sunday intriguing.

He had nearly destroyed the nice interaction between them by attempting to bring up the night they had spent together, but she’d made it clear that she didn’t want to discuss it and was more than a bit embarrassed by the whole affair.

He should feel embarrassed about it, too. Still, he couldn’t help but admit that he was looking forward to seeing her again. He tried to tell himself that it had nothing to do with any feelings he might have for her. Granted, he’d more than enjoyed his one night with her, but he knew where his duty, where his future lay and it definitely wasn’t with Debra.

The subject of his thoughts entered the room. Clad in a pair of tailored black slacks and a white blouse, she looked all business as she offered him a curt smile.

“I had Myra bring in some cookies and coffee,” he said as she sat in the chair next to him. “It’s been my experience that every important decision should be made over a good cookie.”

She smiled and set a handful of papers on the coffee table next to the silver tray of refreshments. “No cookies for me, and no coffee. I’ve been trying to cut down on my caffeine.”

As always whenever she was around he was aware of the scent of her, that fresh, clean fragrance that stirred something deep inside him. What kind of perfume did Cecily wear? For the life of him he couldn’t seem to bring it to his mind whenever Debra was close to him.

“So, what have we got?” he asked, slightly irritated with himself and the crazy tug of attraction he felt for a woman who had no place in his future plans.

She leaned forward and grabbed the small stack of papers. “Stacy sent me these this morning. The first three are various floor plans, including an area for an orchestra and dance floor and the table arrangements.” She handed them to him.

He tried to focus on the papers in his hands and not on how the brilliant sunshine streaming through the window made her light brown hair sparkle as if lit by a thousand fireflies.

She got up from her chair and moved to the back of his where she could lean over to see which plan he was looking at. “Do you want to hear my thoughts about each one?” she asked hesitantly.

“Absolutely. You’re the expert at these kinds of things.”

She leaned closer, so close that if he turned his head he’d be able to place his lips on the long length of her graceful neck. He narrowed his eyes and stared at the piece of paper on top.

“I don’t like this one because she’s got the orchestra and dance floor both on the same side, which makes the room look uneven and off-balance,” she explained.

He cast her a quick sideways glance and noted the long length of her sable eyelashes, the skin that looked bare and beautiful and like smooth porcelain. His fingers tingled as he remembered stroking that skin.


“This is the plan I think works much better,” she said, leaning farther over him to take the papers from his hand and shuffle them around.

He stared back down again, wondering what in the hell was wrong with him. Tonight he had a date with Cecily, the woman who was the front-runner to be by his side for the rest of his life and yet all he could think about at the moment was the soft press of Debra’s breasts against his back as she leaned over him, the sweet fresh scent that eddied in the air whenever she was near.

“See how the orchestra is on the left side, but the dance floor is in the center, right in front of the head table? The tables all seat eight and that means with a head table of eight and two hundred and fifty guests we’ll need thirty-one tables.”

“This looks fine to me,” he replied and released a small sigh of relief as she straightened up, returned to her chair and gave him a little breathing room from her.

“I figured you, Cecily, your mother, your brother Sam, the governor and his wife, Thad and his guest would comprise the people at the head table,” she said.

“Thad won’t come.” Trey thought of his youngest brother. “There’s no point in even inviting him. He has his own life and has no interest in this.” He fought back a touch of hurt as he thought of the distance between himself and Thad that had grown bigger and deeper with each year that passed.

“Then we’ll put the mayor and his wife at the head table,” Debra replied. “They probably should be there anyway.”

Trey nodded, still attempting to regain control of the swift desire that had momentarily taken ahold of him with her nearness.

“This is the invitation I thought would be nice.” She handed him a black-and-white invitation, bold and slightly masculine. “If you approve it I’ve got the printers standing by and I can have them in the mail by tomorrow morning.”

He looked at her in surprise. “Hand addressed?”

“Absolutely.” The brilliant green of her eyes was filled with quiet confidence.

“But won’t that take you half the night?”

She shrugged. “It takes however long it takes. They should have gone out a month ago. They definitely have to go out tomorrow.”

He handed her back the invitation. “It’s perfect. You can start the printers.”

“And now we move on to the menu issue.”

It took them almost an hour to go through the variety of menus Stacy had presented, along with the suggested price per plate.

“Don’t pay any attention to the prices,” Debra said. “There’s no way we’ll pay what the hotel is asking.” This time there was a gleam of challenge in her eyes that he found very hot.

They spoke for another half an hour about food, finally settling on what he’d like to see served. He was almost disappointed when she told him that was all she had to discuss with him today and that she’d be back in touch with him the first of next week to talk about decor and silverware and dish choice.

They left the sitting room and as she disappeared into her office and closed the door, he poked his head into his mother’s office, but she wasn’t there.

Instead, her head intern, Haley, was filing folders in the file cabinet. “Hi, Trey,” she said, a bright smile on her youthful face.

“Hey, where’s the boss?” he asked.

“She mentioned a bit of a headache and went up to her room a little while ago. Is there something I can help you with?” Haley asked with the overeagerness of a young woman wanting to prove her worth.

“No, thanks, I think I’ll just head up to check on her.” With a wave of his hand he headed for the wooden spiral staircase in the entry that would take him to the bedrooms located on the second floor. He could have used the small elevator located just beneath the stairs, but he preferred the exercise of walking up.

When he reached the top of the stairs he continued down the long hallway, passing bedrooms and baths on either side and finally reaching his mother’s doorway at the end of the hall. He knocked and heard her say, “Come in.”

When he opened the door she was seated in one of the two plush white chairs that formed a sitting area complete with fireplace and French doors that led to an upper-deck patio. At the far end of the room her white-canopied bed was visible through double doors that could be closed at night.

She smiled in surprise. “I didn’t expect it to be you. I thought it might be Myra—she’s bringing me up some hot tea. Would you like me to ring her to bring you a cup, too?”

“No, thanks, I just had coffee with Debra.” He sank into the chair next to hers. “Are you doing okay? Haley said you had a headache.”

She waved a hand as if to dismiss the idea. “Just a little one. I decided to escape the office and come up here to do a little thinking away from everyone else and any distractions.”

“Have you come to a decision?”

She shook her head. “No, and I think that’s what’s giving me my headache. How did things go with you and Debra? Weren’t you two getting together to talk about menus and such?”

“I just finished up with her. She’d definitely on top of things. We’ve now settled on the floor plan and a tentative menu for the evening.” He paused a moment and then continued. “She’s going to get the invitations out tomorrow and find an orchestra, but I really didn’t come up here to talk about all that. I stopped last night and had a visit with Grandma.”

Kate sat up a little taller in her chair. “How was she doing? I’m planning on visiting her this Sunday.”

Trey frowned. “To be honest, I’m a little worried about her.”

“Worried how?” Kate leaned forward and rubbed the center of her forehead as if he’d definitely made her head ache a little more.

“Maybe now isn’t a good time to talk about it,” Trey said sympathetically.

At that moment a knock sounded at the door and Myra entered with a tray holding a cup of tea and sugar and lemon wedges. She placed it on the dainty table between the two chairs. “Is there anything else you need?” she asked Kate first and then looked at Trey who shook his head.

“We’re fine, Myra, thank you.” She waited until Myra had left the room and then stirred a spoonful of sugar into the cup of green tea. She squeezed a lemon slice and placed the wedge on the side of the saucer. “Now, where were we?”

“I was saying that if you have a headache, then maybe we should have this conversation another time.”

“We’ll have it now,” Kate replied and lifted her cup to her lips.

“Okay, she seemed fine when I first arrived. She’d eaten dinner in the dining room and had played bingo during the day, but Sassy told me when I arrived that she’d been a bit anxious throughout the evening. Initially the visit went fine, but when I mentioned to her my plans for the Senate and your possible plans to run for president, she went crazy.”

Kate lowered her cup with a frown. “What do you mean by that? Went crazy how?”

“She starting pacing and screaming no and muttering about secrets and lies. I mean, she was so upset Sassy had to give her a sedative. I’m not even sure she knew who I was when she was having her tirade.” Trey paused to draw a breath, to get the strength to tell his mother what really worried him. “I think maybe she’s getting dementia.”

Kate’s forehead creased with pain, but Trey had a feeling the pain was less physical and more emotional. “She is eighty-six years old, Trey. Maybe her mind is starting to slip a bit.”

“Yeah, but all that stuff about secrets and lies? What could she possibly be talking about?”

Kate took another sip of her tea and when she placed the cup back on the saucer she released a deep sigh. “Trey, I know how fond you were of my father, but to be honest, he wasn’t a very good husband and he definitely wasn’t the greatest of fathers.”

“What do you mean?” Trey couldn’t imagine the man who had mentored him as being anything but a wonderful man. Walt had shown Trey infinite patience, had spent hours talking to him, leading him in learning the family business and encouraging Trey’s natural competiveness and ambition.

“You probably don’t know that my mother miscarried three sons before she finally had me. My father never let her forget that she had been unable to give him what he wanted most—a son. He was verbally abusive both to my mother and to me. The one thing that seemed to transform him was your birth. He saw you as the son he’d never had. I imagine some details of my mother’s tumultuous relationship with my father are coming to play in her mind.”

Trey studied his mother, thinking about what she’d just said. Was it possible that Eunice’s breakdown had merely been her replaying portions of her own past in her mind? She’d told him she remembered the days of old but had trouble remembering what had happened the day before.

“And you’re sure there’s nothing more to it?” he asked.

Kate averted her gaze from his and rubbed her forehead once again, as if attempting to ease a much bigger headache than she’d professed to have suffered earlier. “I’m sure I don’t want to talk about it anymore. My mother is old and who knows what goes on in her mind anymore.”


“Then I’ll leave you to drink your tea in peace and quiet,” he replied. He got up from his chair and left her room.

If he’d been troubled before about how his grandmother had reacted to the news that he was running for senator and his mother might be seeking the presidency, the conversation with his mother certainly hadn’t eased his concerns.

Was Eunice really suffering from the onset of dementia or working through issues she’d had with her husband? Or were there secrets and lies someplace in the family history that might be dangerous to both his own and his mother’s political future?