Indecent Encounter: The Silverhaus Affair (29 page)

I
tried
my best to avoid Alex and it should’ve been easy once I decided to write out his schedule and make it available via email and in several rooms in the house. Many households were run by a butler, and the other servants rarely saw their employer.

Except Alex wouldn't let it go.

He demanded I be the one to bring him breakfast daily. He claimed it was because he wanted his head housekeeper to keep him in the loop, and he also wanted to review the menu choices. I started to suspect it was so he could torture me since we often met poolside, with him fresh out of the water, naked as a jaybird.

At least this time, he’d put on a pair of shorts before reviewing the schedule and planning the week’s meals. But still, it wasn’t easy staring at him shirtless, his powerful chest and ripped abs still glistening with water.

After the party at Mr. B’s, Alex had seemed genuinely sorry for the things he said to me, but I refused to let myself think about what that meant. I didn’t want to go down that path again. I tried to stay on task, but every time I did he pulled the conversation over to my personal life.

A life I needed to get back to.

“Good morning, Chelsea. Have a seat.”

It was one of my last days at work, and I just wanted to go over the schedule and get on with my duties. We barely got past the pleasantries when he jumped right into my personal life, as usual.

“Summer’s almost over.” He leaned forward in his chair smiling. “I’m going to miss our morning meetings.”

I nearly went weak in the knees when he smiled at me, but I had to remember, that in the past, wishful thinking had gotten me nothing but heartache. I'd lost Zach because of that wishful thinking.

“Yes, it is beautiful out here by the pool. The gardens, the roses…” I waved a hand around the patio area. “I’m going to miss this too.” I couldn't look at him. “Oregon’s nothing like this.”

He glanced down at the patio table, then back up to me and said, “I suppose your brother, Karl, and your boyfriend will be glad that you’re coming home soon.”

“My boyfriend?”

“Yeah, what’s his name, Zach?” Alex asked.

“He’s definitely
not
my boyfriend, remember?”

“Bullshit.” The word came out flat, but not cruel.

I gaped at him with wide eyes. “He’s my adopted brother…though he’s decided he doesn’t even want to be that anymore.” My throat tightened as I leaned back in the chair.

“Because he wants to be your boyfriend.” Alex mirrored my position. “Get a clue, Chelsea. He made it abundantly clear when he visited. You’d have to be blind not to see it. You mean to tell me it didn’t come up while you were touring The Hague?”

“It did, but I told him, I told him...it’s none of your business,” I said as I stood up. I didn't want to talk about Zach.

“I bet he didn’t like hearing that,” Alex said, smiling up at me.

“Not him.
You
. It’s none of
your
business.” I folded my arms. “Zach is not my boyfriend. I don’t have one.”

“You had me,” Alex said softly. He stood up and came toward me.

“What I had was an employer who took advantage,” I said, balling my hands into fists.

He recoiled and said, “Is that how you saw it?”

“How else was I supposed to see it?” My voice went up in pitch as heat rushed to my face. Why did he still want to do this? Sure, I was here, easily available, but it wasn't like he didn't have other options. Carrie was here all the time.

“I asked you to quit being my employee and stay here as my guest. I wanted you…” Alex said, reaching out a hand.

I snatched my arm away and hissed, “You knew I needed the money. It was an easy out for you!”

I wiped angrily at the hot tear that rolled down my cheek. I didn’t want our last days together to be like this, me a crying heartbroken mess. I just wanted to go home and try to piece together some sort of a life.

“I didn’t want an out. I wanted you,” Alex pleaded, raising his voice.

“Yeah, and when I took the job with Mr. B so we could be together, you wanted nothing to do with me,” I said. “You suspected the worst of me. Now that I’m here under your roof again, now you're suddenly interested in me again. Am I just an object for you to play with?” My voice cracked.

“That’s what you think?” Alex asked, his voice quiet again. “You think I only want you because you're here?”

“I don’t know.” I threw my hands in the air. “You keep telling me you hate complications, that I complicate things for you. So let’s keep it simple. You’re the boss. I’m your employee, and there’s nothing else.”

I swallowed hard. I couldn’t catch my breath around all the unsaid things that were choking me.

Alex was silent.

I needed to stop talking before I made things worse. I looked down at the weekly planner I held in my hand and tapped my ink pen against its hard cover. How could I tell him that I loved him? How could I admit I was the foolish girl that tried to make a summer fling into a fairytale? How could I say any of it when it hadn't been real? Instead, I closed the planner notebook, turned, and walked away.

T
he next morning
, I forced myself out to the pool for our regular breakfast meeting, planner in hand, but Alex wasn’t there. I’d expected to see him sitting at the patio table looking handsome and enticing as ever, wrapped in his usual swimming towel. Jamison joined me after a few minutes, carrying what looked like a hand-written note on a white paper in his hand.

“He’s gone,” he announced.

I stood there squinting at him in the sun, at a loss for words. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I guess he really was done with me.

“The filming licenses came through and he’s gone to the U.S. to start the reshoots,” Jamison said, sinking into the patio chair across from me. “He had to go. The reduced fees were contingent on him filming there on location.”

“So he had to leave last night? Without telling anyone, not even you?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

Jamison shrugged.

I slumped back into my chair and stared down at my lap. I felt awful. This was all my fault. Alex had fired April on my account, lost the financing for his movie, and then all the other shit had happened. I hadn't even had the guts to tell him how I'd felt. The funny thing was, I'd thought I would be the one leaving. And now I didn’t even get to say good-bye.

Stupid. But who was I kidding? I knew a real love affair with him was impossible. I’d never be the woman he was looking for, even if things between him and Carrie were over.

I exhaled a deep breath. “I didn't see that one coming.”

Jamison looked at me puzzled. “You what?”

I waved a hand at him and rubbed my hand across my brow. “Oh, nothing.”

Jamison brightened and said, “You’ll be leaving soon, too. You’re probably glad to return to your home after, well…that is…your help around here will be missed greatly.”

My contract was up in a week, and I was due to start classes again in three weeks. Summer was almost over, but I couldn’t help feeling like it was more than just the season that was ending. Everything had changed.

“And you’ll be joining Alex in the States?” I asked, already missing my friend.

Jamison smiled and said, “Yes, but let’s not talk about that. Instead, let’s talk about the going away present I got you.”

“No, don’t be silly. I owe you,” I said, but Jamison shook his head and handed me a folded letter. I thought it was just another sheet of Alex’s note to him, but now I could see it was typed, and on company letterhead.

“You loved screenwriting, and I don’t blame you for turning down Alex’s writing tasks, but I didn’t want you to drop it completely,” Jamison said.

I opened the letter and read it. It was an acceptance form from an Oregon production company, outlining my position as a production assistant with additional scene rewrites and screenwriting opportunities. It was a ground floor position for very little money, but it was my own door into the film industry.

“Jamison, you dear man…” I was practically jumping up and down. “You sent them my resume?”

“Of course I did.”

Then, with a wide smile, he added, “Along with some of the pages you wrote for Alex. And my wholehearted recommendation.”

“You sly old fox. I love you,” I squealed with joy and for a moment, I thought I actually saw the butler’s pasty white cheeks blush with color. “Next Generation Cinema.” I read the company name off the paper, already feeling waves of excitement. “I don’t recognize this production company. I’ll have to go look it up. This is great! Thank you, Jamison. I don’t know how I can thank you enough.”

“Just do me a favor one of these days,” Jamison said.

“Anything.” I asked.

He leaned forward and said, “Go home and take care of your brother, but also take care of yourself.” He tapped a finger on the letter, now laying on the patio table and said, “This is just one thing you wanted. I’m asking you to figure out what else you really want, and then grab onto it. You deserve it.”

I sat back down, my smile disappearing. “It’s too late for that, I’m afraid. I’ve already let it slip through my fingers.”

“Maybe not,” he said, leaning forward. “Listen, Chelsea, dear, I just want you to make sure, if you ever have another opportunity, you don’t let
anything
get in your way.”

F
rom the morning
of that quiet breakfast, the summer unwound quickly. I helped Jamison close up that beautiful house, and when he drove me to the airport, all he needed to do was lock the doors, and hand the keys over to the maintenance company. I hugged Jamison goodbye, and laughed when his stiff formality melted for just long enough to hug me back.

“You know where I’ll be…at college. I’ll leave you my dorm address.” I told Jamison. “Maybe we can meet up stateside. Where are you going to be?”

He smiled, but didn't answer my question. “Have a good flight, Chelsea. I’ll miss you. I’ll see you again some day, but until then, keep your chin up.”

I left Jamison standing in the terminal of the airport as I headed to check in for my long flight home. I turned back for one last goodbye wave, but he was already gone, just like the rest of the summer.

I fell asleep on the plane, and when I woke up, it was hard to convince myself that Holland hadn’t been just one long, complicated dream.

P
ortland
, Oregon, was turning out to be the ideal place to produce a feature film. The state supported its own film industry, and because I’d chosen to film on location here, the local chapter of the film board helped round out my crew. They’d even found this comfortable Craftsman house for me to rent only a few blocks away from our production offices.

The rented house was nothing compared to my home in Holland, but it was cozy, all warm hardwood and cheerful corners. Outside, the rain pattered on a quiet neighborhood street, but two short blocks away was a great run of restaurants, coffee shops, and other interesting hotspots.

Jamison appeared in the door to the kitchen, still looking befuddled due to jet lag. After his long flight, I’d given him a couple days off to adjust to the new time zone, but he still struggled. There wasn’t much for a butler to do around this small house; nonetheless, he was up early and ready to work.

“The only thing that helps jet lag is following the new schedule,” he said, suppressing a yawn.

“You need some coffee my friend. That’s the magic cure for jet lag. Come.” I waved a hand at the empty chair next to me at the kitchen table. “Have a seat. I’ll pour.”

Jamison obliged with a small smile turning up the corners of his mouth. “Well, I suppose you’re right. Though I prefer tea, I believe coffee is in order this morning.” He gave a small laugh. “Who knows. I might grow accustomed to drinking coffee now that I’m in the States.”

“When in Rome…” I smiled, glad to see him in a good mood and glad to have him with me for the duration of the movie shoot.

I brought the coffee pot to the table and poured him a cup, then placed the carafe back in the coffee maker. I slid into my chair eager to hear what news he had about Chelsea. I knew I could count on Jamison to fill me in, even if I didn't ask specifically.

“So, tell me everything that I missed, Jamison,” I said. I picked up my cup and leaned back in my chair waiting to hear all the news. “And tell me
everything
. Don’t leave anything out.”

He lowered his white porcelain coffee cup to the table and opened his mouth to speak, then he stopped. His eyes darted to the window and back to me. “It certainly does rain here a lot.”

I laughed. “I kinda like the rain. It makes it easier to be inside working.”

Jamison continued sipping his coffee and said, “Luckily, you don’t have many outdoor shots in your rewrite.”

“Yes, Chelsea’s idea about keeping the movie to one location was brilliant,” I said. I tried dropping her name hoping he’d take the bait and spill it about Chelsea. She was what I really wanted to hear about, and I knew that he knew it.

“Speaking of brilliant choices,” Jamison began. My heartbeat picked up. Finally. Now he’d tell me about Chelsea.

“Your father finally decided to break things off with April. Seems she was a bit clingy and demanding.”

“No.” I feigned shock. “Not April.”

“Henry couldn’t keep up with her.”

Suddenly, an image of how that must’ve played out popped into my mind. “Ha! Serves the old dog right,” I laughed. “Though I have to say, he has balls. That break-up must have been one epic scene.”

Jamison nodded. “She tried to burn down his house. I wouldn’t be surprised if you hear from him soon. How many rooms does this house have?”

“What the hell? Wait a minute. Back up. She did what?” I shook my head.
Unbelievable.
“Never mind, don’t tell me any more. I’ve had it up to here with that woman. I really don’t need to hear any more about April Look-at-me-Temple.”

“Well, anyway, I’m sure Henry will love this house. It’s big enough for three.”

“Oh, no. He is definitely not staying here. I’ll bet you a hundred bucks that April will hound him across continents before she’s done being a woman scorned. And I don’t want her anywhere near me, or my movie. No, Henry is stuck with April. He can stay away. Even continents don’t provide enough distance for my comfort.”

Jamison smiled, and let the escapades of April drop to a silent lull in the conversation. I waited patiently, hoping he’d bring up Chelsea next. Her name practically hung in the air as we both sipped on our coffee. Finally, I couldn’t stand it any longer. I had to say something, though I tried to sound nonchalant.

“So how was closing up the house? Did Chelsea stay to help?” I asked.

Jamison’s nose tipped a little higher and he sniffed. “Our head housekeeper was indispensable. I was sad to see her go.”

“So you sent her off safe? She’s home?”

“You can find out for yourself. Portland State University is only a few miles from here,” Jamison said.

“I can’t do that. I don’t want Chelsea to get the wrong idea,” I said even though it killed me to do it.

“Yes, yes, it’s much better leaving her to assume you used her and then left,” Jamison said as he stood. “Excuse me, sir, but I have a new household to bring up to standards.”

“Hey, wait, Jamison…wait,” I jumped to my feet and reached out a hand, but he stalked out the door, clearly annoyed with me.

Jamison was rubbing it in to make a point. I’d been an ass and the thought that Chelsea was a stone’s throw away was killing me. Just the thought of her proximity was enough to start my nerves buzzing. But I wasn’t sure how to proceed without botching things up.

Again.

I wanted her to get back to her real life and put her summer maid work behind her. Maybe then, when we met again, we’d be on equal ground. I’d always seen her as an equal even though I'd acted like an entitled son of a bitch.

One thing I knew for sure. This time, I wouldn't hesitate. I’d find a way to tell her exactly how I feel about her.

My phone rang and I grabbed it. “Yeah, Matthew…”

“Mr. Silverhaus, it’s Matthew, your secretary.”

“Yes, Matthew, I know. Your name comes up on my screen when you call. You can call me Alex. Remember?” I asked, trying not to smile at his eager nerves. “Anyway, am I late?”

“No, but a few of the new team members are here early so you can meet them before the meeting starts.”

“Sure thing. I’ll be there in ten minutes,” I said.

I poured the rest of my coffee into a travel mug, found an umbrella, and headed out the door. Half way down the block my heart stopped two steps before my feet. A woman with long black hair stood on the corner in front of me. I couldn’t see her face under her red umbrella, but my heart started to pound anyway.

I swore I’d tell Chelsea that I loved her the minute I saw her. For a second, I imagined it really was her, that I’d be telling her right here on this street corner. Could it be a coincidence? Fate?

The crosswalk light changed and the woman tipped her umbrella back as she stepped off the curb. It wasn’t Chelsea. I was so thrown off that I missed the walk light and had to wait in the pouring rain for the next one.

I looked at my watch and scowled. If I didn’t have to meet the new team members, I could detour closer to campus. There I’d have a better chance of running into Chelsea. The light changed and I shook myself. So much for my idea of being patient and letting her get settled. I needed to stop this. I was acting like a crazed stalker, ready to jump out at her on the street and probably give her a horrible shock. I couldn’t be sidetracked now. I had a meeting, but my mind was already buzzing with plans for a campus tour later.

I reached the office and rushed inside. Matthew leapt up to take my umbrella.

“I set up the new team members in the back conference room with coffee and a plate of bagels and Danish,” he said, handing me a list. “Who would you like to see first?”

I nodded and said, “How about the production assistant?”

Matthew disappeared to call in the person for the first interview as I opened the door to my office. I walked around the wide desk checking my cell phone for any new messages. I settled into my leather chair. Just as I swiveled around to face the door, my eyes popped wide and my jaw dropped as Chelsea walked through the door.

I
rubbed
my sweaty palms down the fabric of my skirt and looked up to see Alex looking as shocked as I was.

“I had nothing to do with this!” he blurted out.

I quickly spun around to close the door. When I turned back around my head was spinning and my heart was leaping out of my chest. I leaned against the door unable to speak. What the hell was going on?

“Chelsea, seriously, I didn’t have anything to do with this.” Alex stood and pinched a finger and thumb to the bridge of his nose as if to clear his head. “Wait. That didn’t sound right. It wasn’t the first thing I wanted to say if I ever saw you again.”

“Looks like Jamison set us up,” I said, still with my back glued to the door. I tried to laugh it off, but I wasn't finding this funny at all.

Alex stepped out from behind his desk and took a tentative step in my direction, then apparently changed his mind and came to the center of the room. “If you knew Next Generation Cinema was my production company you probably never would’ve come, right?”

“Well…no, I wouldn’t have. Let’s just say, you and I don’t have the best track record of working together,” I said.

My cheeks heated as I thought of what we
did
do well together. Despite everything, my body still sizzled at the sight of Alex. I'd thought I’d never see him again, and here he was, like there’d been no time lapse between us.

Tearing my eyes away from him I looked around the room, desperate to find something,
anything
else to focus on. Then an enchanting photograph hanging on the wall behind his desk caught my eye. It’d been enlarged to the size of a painting. It was all soft greens and bright blue sky, just how I remembered the secret grove. The tall ring of trees, the long, soft grass, and the dome of sky above us. Without any preparation at all, I was facing a stunning photograph of the first place we ever made love.

I wondered if he thought about that as much as I did. When I'd been in in Holland, I’d been so worried about the way he viewed me, so worried that I was being naive, or letting myself be taken advantage of that I'd let it overshadow how good we were together. But after hours on the long plane ride with nothing to do but think, and Clara’s unstoppable questions when I got home, now all the good things between us seemed so obvious, and the rest was unimportant.

Oh, god
. I was still in love with him. The realization hit with a flutter in my stomach and another wave of dizziness.

I blinked and swallowed hard. “Um…what did you want to say to me?”

As if lost in a fog himself, Alex ran a hand through his hair, and then turned to look at me. “What?” he asked.

“You said you had something you wanted to say when you saw me again, and you haven’t said it yet.”

Alex moved back and leaned against his desk, crossing his arms with a smile. His eyes didn’t leave my face, and it seemed for a moment that he was lost in staring at me. Then he snapped out of it, and said, “Ah, yes. How’s Karl?”

Yeah, I doubted that was the question. His deflection somehow made me feel steadier, and I made it across the office to stand behind one of the chairs facing his wide desk.

“Karl’s fine. Actually he’s great.” I relaxed and smiled back.

“So he got into Rainbow Roads?” Alex asked. “I Googled it when I got to Portland. It looks like a great program, but wow, the price…pretty expensive.”

I smiled. “Yes, it is but I got lucky.”

Alex gave me a hopeful smile, one eyebrow quirked up suggestively.

“They helped me find a scholarship for Karl because of his interest in working with the National Parks. All the money I earned in Holland is now in a fund to pay for his future in the program.”

“What do you know? So you didn’t need the job after all,” he said, the corners of his mouth curving into a smile. “But hey, I’m glad it worked out.”

The job. Right. I stood there gripping the leather back of the chair. I remembered the first day of the job. Alex had ignited a spark when I'd stepped through the door, and now, it was happening all over again. One minute in the same room with him, and I was right back to where I'd been when we'd first met. His infectious smile turned the temperature higher and I had to look away to get control again. But when I did, I noticed a framed photograph of Carrie and Emily on his desk.

Right. Just the dose of reality I needed to cool me down. Why would their photograph be so prominent on his desk unless, Alex was back together with his family? If he and Carrie weren't together, wouldn't he have just had a picture of Emily?

I pushed away from the chair and edged back toward the door. I tried to sound casual, but I stammered, “H…how’s Carrie and Emily?”

“Good,” Alex said with a wide smile. “They’ll be coming to visit in a few weeks.”

“That’s good…I mean, great!” I said, waving a hand in the air. “I’m sure Emily’s glad her parents are back together.”

Alex’s jaw dropped and he couldn’t manage a sound for at least twenty seconds. “Parents? As in, me and Carrie?” He let out a short laugh. “You thought I was married?”

I glared at him. “Well I don’t see what’s so funny about that. But yeah, divorced, I assumed, and reconciled now.” I hoped I didn't sound as stupid as I thought I did.

Alex let out a huge breath and said, “Carrie's my sister-in-law, Chelsea. She was married to my brother. Emily’s my niece.”

All the air went out of me. What?

“So you’re not getting back together with your ex…a wife, a girlfriend or anything like that?” I asked, fumbling to grab the back of the chair again.

“Hell no, I’ve never been married,” Alex said, standing up with a wide smile. He looked down at me. “You mean all this time you thought I was married to Carrie? What on earth made you think that?”

I bit my lip, then said, “Well, the way you two acted around each other, always hugging, and so glad to see each other…and Emily, she drew that picture of you guys, and you played with her so well, like a really good dad…oh, geez, a really good uncle.”

It was all clear to me now. My preconceived notions had colored everything I’d seen. All the times Alex played with Emily in the pool, tossing her into the water, it looked like what a dad would do with his daughter. But it was nothing more than what a loving sibling would do for his deceased brother’s family.