I Heard A Rumor (13 page)

“Badly.”

“I'm sorry.”

Zach touched her hand. “Don't worry about it. I'll bounce back.”

She smiled. “I don't doubt that one bit.” Chante leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. Neither of them noticed the long lens pointed at them.

“Who is that woman?” the photographer asked.

“We'll run her face through Google photo search,” the ambitious director replied. “I can't believe Harrington is in a new relationship so quickly. He must be trying to revamp his image.”

“Ever think he's fallen in love?” the photographer asked as he snapped images.

“I don't care. I just want to get a newsworthy story that will get me back in front of the CNN editors. This travel-video shit is for the birds. We're going to be the first people to get Zachary Harrington on camera!”

The photographer kept shooting the kissing couple. This would be a coup and make both him and the director famous.

 

 

Chante pulled back from Zach and looked into his eyes with a smile on her lips. “You taste so good. I wonder if we can take some of this chocolate with us.”

Zach grinned. “You read my mind.”

Leaning in closer, she whispered, “I know where I want to cover you with chocolate and lick it off.”

Zach raised his eyebrow and smirked, “Your sweet tooth is that big, huh?”

Smacking him on the shoulder, she couldn't help but laugh. The truth was the truth, though.

He looked down at his half-eaten banana split. “Give me one second,” he said as he rose to his feet and headed to the counter. Chante held back her laughter as she watched him get his tray filled with chocolate sauce.

When he returned to the table, he showed her the container. “I say, let's get out of here before this thing springs a leak.”

As they headed out the door, Chante just happened to look over her shoulder, and she spotted the photographer. “What in the . . . Why is that man taking pictures of us?”

Zach looked at the photographer. “I don't know, why don't we just . . .”

Before he could say get out of there, the two men rushed over to them. “Mr. Harrington!” the director called out as Zach ushered Chante into the car.

“Mr. Harrington, are you in Charleston to avoid being connected to the ‘Harlem Madame'?”

“Stay away from me,” Zach growled as he hopped into the car. He sped out of the parking lot and drove faster than Chante ever had.

“What was that all about?” she asked as she gripped her seat belt.

“Nothing.”

“The ‘Harlem Madame'? That's your ex?”

Slowing the speed of the car, he nodded. “I had no idea what she was doing, but no one seems to care about that.”

Chante let out a frustrated sigh. “So you lied to me.”

“I didn't lie . . .”

“Don't give me that shit. I'm so sick of men lying! You made it seem as if she was facing financial charges when you knew good and damned well that your ex is a pimp.”

“Which has nothing to do with me!”

Chante dropped her head in her hands. She wasn't ready for this. She wasn't going to deal with this. “I'm just supposed to believe your wife ran a call-girl ring and you were clueless? Zach, you're smarter than that.”

“So you knew your fiancé was buying sex on the side?”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Stop the car!”

“Chante, I'm sorry.”

“Stop. The. Damn. Car.”

“I . . .”

“If you're trying to hurt me to cover your guilt, it's not working. I poured my heart out to you, and you sat there silent. Don't sit here and try . . . You know what. Let me out of this car or I'm going to jump out.”

“I'm not stopping this car, and I'm not going to sit here and justify why I didn't want to tell you my ex was selling sex. And you're not going to jump out of this car because I'll drive a hundred miles an hour to stop you.”

Chante rolled her eyes. “Fine, but when we get back to the resort, I don't want to see you again. I'm done with men and their sex scandals.”

“This isn't my sex scandal!” Zach banged his hand on the steering wheel. “Okay, I'm tired of being held responsible for someone else's bad choices. Natalie did what she did because she wanted to. I was in the dark, and I'm not going to keep apologizing for her bad acts.”

“How were you in the dark? She was your wife.”

“In name only. Our marriage had been over for years, and I'd been too blind to see that I needed to file the divorce papers.”

“Because you loved her?” Chante asked.

“No. Because I didn't want the bad press. At one time, Natalie and I had been the face of my company, which is why so many people think I had some knowledge or involvement in her call-girl ring.”

Chante could see where he was coming from. She had no idea about all the things Robert had been involved with. Still, she'd been honest with him about Robert, and he'd kept the most scandalous part of his ex-wife's drama under wraps. She teetered between understanding and anger.

When she finally decided to speak, she asked, “What are you going to do? Obviously you wanted to keep a low profile, but you have people on your tail now.”

“I'm done running,” he said in a low voice. “I didn't do anything wrong, but I'm acting as if I did. Sure, I wanted to come to Charleston and try to do some business with people who knew nothing of what was happening with my ex's case. This just showed me that in the age of twenty-four-hour news cycles, there is nowhere to run.”

She glanced at him and sighed. How long would she be able to stay hidden from her own drama?

“Maybe we shouldn't go back to the resort,” she suggested.

“I said I'm . . .”

“We're not running, but there is no need to walk into a media circus right this minute. We can go to my grandmother's place. It might be under construction, but I'm sure we can find a room to hide out in for a day or so. Then maybe people will think you've gone back to New York and you can finish your vacation—alone.”

“Alone?”

“I've got my own issues to deal with, and I don't want to add your baggage to my luggage rack. Thanks for the fun times, but when this is over, we're going to go our separate ways. Take a right at this intersection,” she said, then stared out the window.

Chante directed him to her grandmother's house, and she didn't say anything as he pulled up the winding driveway. “So it's the silent treatment now?” he asked as they exited the car.

“I just don't have anything to say right now.” She pointed to a small cottage in the backyard. “Let's hope she hasn't decided to renovate this too.”

“A little dollhouse?”

“Hush,” she said. “This was our dream house. We'd do arts and crafts out here. I would've stayed here, but my grammy set up reservations at the resort.”

“Then I guess if I ever get the chance to meet her, I should thank her.”

“That's not going to happen. I meant what I said, when this dies down, you go your way and I'm going to go mine,” she said as she reached underneath the welcome mat and grabbed the spare key.

When she opened the door, Chante was happy to see the cottage hadn't changed—much. The yellow walls were a bit faded but still bright. The white French provincial furniture was just as elegant as it had been when she'd seen it with her young eyes, especially the baby-blue settee in the right corner. She marched over to the chair and sat down with a smile on her face.

“I've always loved this chair,” she said.

“What's so special about it?” Zach crossed over to her and waited to be offered a seat. After a beat, she nodded for him to sit down. “It is soft.”

Chante turned and faced him. “When did you find out what your ex was doing?

Zach tossed his head back and sighed. He hated thinking about those moments when the FBI burst into his office. Looking at the questions in Chante's eyes, he realized that he owed her the truth. “I was in my office, about to close a deal with a Japanese company. It was going to be a multi-million-dollar contract that would have put my company over the top. This would've led to more business from them because they were buying up a lot of property in Manhattan. FBI agents, with guns drawn, bursting into my office killed that deal. It cost me a lot of money, and to make matters worse, they took my computers, files, and everything. So I was basically shut down for nearly a month before they figured out that I had nothing to do with Natalie's business. Between the media and all the stories that were swirling around New York about her and our marriage, I couldn't escape the rumors.”

“Wow,” Chante said, realizing that her incident on
Charlotte Today
paled in comparison to Zach's experience.

She couldn't imagine how she would've reacted if she'd been implicated in a crime Robert committed. She'd probably be in jail, not hiding in Charleston. “Why were you a suspect in the first place?”

Shrugging, he stroked his forehead. “At the end of the day, Natalie blames me for everything that went wrong in our marriage and her life. Business has always been important to me, and she knew that. Did I neglect her? Yes, but I was always faithful to her. She couldn't say the same.”

“And I guess she wasn't a woman who decided to take responsibility for her own actions, huh?” she said with a snort. “Sounds a lot like Robert.”

“Both of us fell for the wrong people, and we're still suffering from it,” he said, then drew her into his arms. Chante wanted to push away from him. She didn't need another sex scandal in her life.

“Zach, I know this may not be your fault, but I've had my fill of sex scandals. Look at us, hiding out in a cottage because of someone else's bull.”

“Then let's stop hiding.”

She was about to say yes, but the thought of her mother seeing them on the news wasn't something she wanted to deal with. Then she looked into Zach's eyes. He was right: they had done nothing wrong—other than fall for the wrong people.

“You know what, why don't we go to Savannah for the rest of the day? We can have dinner at Alligator Soul and make a fire on the beach.”

Zach smiled. “I thought you didn't want anything else to do with me?”

“Maybe I'm just bored?” She grinned, then leaned in and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

“I'll take it.”

“You stay here and I'll drive your car back to the hotel, since the photographers saw your rental.”

Zach winked at her. “Sounds like a good plan. You've done this before, huh?”

“No, but I have a good friend who specializes in such things.” She rose to her feet, and Zach wrapped his arms around her waist.

“I have a better idea,” he said as he toyed with the waistband of her shorts. “Let's spend the night right here and head to Savannah in the morning.” He unbuttoned her shorts and pulled them down. When he saw that she wasn't wearing any panties, his mouth watered with desire and anticipation. He slipped his finger between her wet folds of flesh and, with his other hand, pushed her shorts around her ankles. “I know what I want to eat.”

Before Chante could say anything, his lips covered her puckering core as his tongue sought out her throbbing bud of desire. Chante cried out when he found her sensitive spot, and her knees shivered as his mouth devoured her.

“Come for me,” he moaned as her juices filled his mouth. Chante thrust her hips against him as his tongue lashed her throbbing bud. She was so wet, so hot, and when he licked her clit, Chante's knees went weak.

“Zach!” She fell against him, out of breath. Her body shivered as the waves of her orgasm washed over her body.

“What did I do to deserve that?” she asked once she caught her breath.

“You didn't jump out of the car.” He winked at her, then pulled her shorts up. “Don't worry, there's more to come when we get to Savannah.”

“How about when I come back with my car?” she asked with a wink of her own.

“Wouldn't your grandmother be scandalized by such behavior in such a pretty little dollhouse?”

“She's probably wondering why I've never done anything like this before,” Chante replied, then walked out the door.

 

 

Robert watched CNN with rapt attention as he saw Chante and Zachary Harrington running to a Mustang in Charleston. “So that
is
where she's hiding,” he muttered. “The game has changed.” Picking up his phone, Robert placed a call to the one reporter he knew would answer his call, Persone Wallace, the editor of
QC After Dark
.

“Robert,” Persone said, “good to hear from you. When are you and Chante making your announcement?”

“I'm meeting her in Charleston, and I think you should come down there with me. That way you will get the exclusive on our reunion.”

“I think you're full of shit, Robert.”

“I can show you better than I can tell you. Chante and I are back together, and when I'm mayor, she'll be standing by my side.”

“I don't believe that woman has forgiven you.”

“Why would I lie?” he asked.

Persone snorted. “Because,” he began, “you've been lying since I met you. Liza Franklin nearly bankrupted me because you said she was a call girl. I can't mention her or any of her clients on my blog. That is the only reason you're getting so much space. That heffa represents everybody important in Charlotte.”

“Stop your whining! This is about to be the biggest story in Charlotte. And here's an added bonus for you. Have you heard of the ‘Harlem Madame'?”

“Have I?” Persone said excitedly. “That is a cluster . . .”