A Compromising Affair. Gwynne Forster

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СКАЧАТЬ the reception desk, the odor of freshly baked oatmeal-raisin cookies that the manager placed on the desk every evening tantalized his nose. He turned back around, took a couple of cookies and bit into one. The taste made him think of the dessert that Velma brought to Heather’s and Judson’s barbecue. He snapped his fingers. She’d served that same dessert at the going-away party Judson had given for him a couple of years ago. Suddenly, he remembered Denise Miller, and what she had said to him at that reception.

      By the time he reached his hotel room, he remembered their encounter clearly. She had self-righteously taken him to task for not making environmental issues a priority as ambassador to Lithuania. “The entire region is a major industrial polluter, and you have a platform to bring about change. I am disappointed that it’s not part of your mission,” she’d said.

      At the time, he was sure everyone at the table could see the smoke billowing from his ears. He’d answered without looking in her direction. “Our government is not sending me there to lecture the Lithuanian government about clean air.” He had turned his back to her and not said another word to her until Sunday afternoon at the barbecue.

      He also hadn’t forgiven her for it, now that he thought about it, and he meant to let her know. A frown spread across his face. He supposed he hadn’t remembered the incident because he didn’t associate such a strident voice with the Denise Miller he’d just met. This Denise was much softer, more feminine and lovely. He went to the minibar, put two cubes of ice in a glass and filled it with vodka. His immediate inclination was to telephone her right then and there, but a glance at his watch disabused him of the notion. It was a quarter to one in the morning. As furious as he was, his desire to get even didn’t override his sense of decency. He slept fitfully, anxious for the morning to come when he could telephone Denise Miller at last.

      When his phone rang at a quarter to nine, he almost gave in to the urge to ignore it, but the ringing persisted. “Galloway speaking.”

      “Hi, Scott. This is Heather. How did your date with Denise go?”

      “She told you we had a date?”

      “Yes. Her feet hardly touched the ground for a week in anticipation. She was so excited that we asked her why she was so eager.”

      “Hmm. Well, I’ve got a few words for that woman.”

      “Why? What happened?”

      “Nothing,” he said. “Last night, I liked her. What pissed me off was what happened two years ago at the reception Judson gave for me. It took me a while, but I finally remembered how mad she made me with her self-righteous statements about environmental consciousness.”

      “You mean it’s over before it even got started?”

      “I don’t know. Maybe I just need to get this off my chest. I would appreciate it, Heather, if you wouldn’t mention it.”

      “You like her?”

      “What man wouldn’t?”

      After putting the receiver back in its cradle, Scott paced the length of his room and walked back to the telephone. He lifted the receiver and stood looking at it. His fingers brushed against his jawline, reminding him that he needed to shave. But he wasn’t thinking about shaving. He wanted to stop procrastinating and call Denise Miller. He dialed Drake Harrington’s number and asked Drake if he could get Denise’s number from Pamela, his wife. Pamela came to the telephone.

      “Hi, Scott. You want Denise’s number?”

      “Yes, please. I didn’t ask her for it after our date.” She gave him the telephone number. “Thanks, Pamela. I’ll be in touch.”

      He hung up, dialed Denise’s number, and when she answered, he got straight to the point. “Good morning, Denise. I hope you slept well. No wonder I didn’t remember where we met. You made me mad as hell!” Scott said, barely taking a breath.

      “Would you mind explaining to me why you attacked me at that dinner party? Do you remember being a smart-ass and taking me to task, someone you didn’t know anything about? You embarrassed me. For days, I fumed over your indictment of me. What do you have to say about this?”

      “Scott, I’m stunned,” said Denise. “I had forgotten all about that. I suppose at the time I didn’t think I was out of line. Two years ago, I was deeply involved in programs to improve our environment. I’m certain that I wouldn’t do the same thing today.”

      “But why on earth did you attack me?”

      “I don’t know. For one thing, you seemed to ignore me when I tried to start a conversation with you about the environment, effectively dismissing me, and I was hurt. I guess I went for the jugular. Am I forgiven?”

      “I don’t know. I’m not sure.”

      “If you’re not sure, why did you kiss me last night?”

      “That certainly wasn’t what I call a kiss. At the time, Denise, I hadn’t figured out why I had reservations about you. And I also hadn’t made up my mind.”

      “Not only are you brash, you’re brutally honest, as well. Have you made up your mind yet?”

      “Try not to ask me a question if you don’t want the answer. I want a lot more, but I believe in being cautious.”

      “Are you planning on dropping things right now? I mean, are you still so angry with me—the me you went out to dinner with last night—now that you know me?”

      “You really turned me off that night. The woman I met recently is so different that I really don’t know what to make of it. Suppose we leave things as they are for the time being. Have a wonderful weekend. Goodbye.”

      Denise stared at the receiver in her hand. He’d hung up without waiting for her to say goodbye, and that meant he was still angry. She’d barely remembered her criticism of him, or that she’d done it because he’d ignored her. Why, he’d barely spared her a glance.

      Suddenly, she started to giggle, and then she was consumed with laughter. Two years before, she was passionate about the environment. She’d believed that since men had gotten the world into its current predicament, they should step aside and allow women to correct their mistakes. That was then.

      Scott probably had little patience with aggressive women, but he seemed to like women who were soft and smart.

      She sat down at the kitchen table to eat her breakfast. Priscilla served the coffee and joined her. “Ma’am, how was your date with Ambassador Galloway? He’s a great catch, and he knows how to treat a woman.”

      “I know, Priscilla. But if he isn’t interested in me, nothing will happen. I may genuflect to my father, but not to any other man.”

      Priscilla looked at her. “You expect me to believe he didn’t ask you out again? I thought it was him that called you this morning.”

      “It was.” She related to Priscilla what had happened with Scott two years earlier. “He’s still mad at me,” she said. “He didn’t remember what I said to him until after our date.”

      “What a pity! He likes you a lot.”

      “Or rather, he did. But I am not planning to get any gray hairs over it.”

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