I Heard A Rumor (14 page)

“What if you can get an interview with her ex-husband?”

“How?”

“Let's just say I know where he is, and I'm sure when we show up, he's going to have a lot to say.”

“If you can deliver all of this, then I'll be one of the first people in line on election day to cast my vote for you.”

“Meet me at my office around seven tomorrow morning, and we'll head to Charleston,” Robert said smugly. “Then we will both stage an epic comeback the likes of which the Queen City has never seen before.”

After hanging up with Persone, Robert smiled. If Chante didn't play ball, she'd be ruined because of her new friend. Either way, he'd get some press and possibly some sympathy because he was the one being cheated on this time.

Chante expected to get back to the resort, quietly park Zach's Mustang, head to her room, get her keys, and leave.

However, what happened wasn't that simple. Three media trucks were in the parking lot—one local station, a CNN truck, and one with a crew from a Charlotte station. Hoping to back out of the lot without being seen, she slammed the car in reverse, nearly hitting another car. When she slammed on the brakes and the tires squealed, Chante brought all the attention she was trying to avoid down on her like a ton of bricks.

“Miss Britt, Miss Britt,” a reporter, whom she recognized as being from Charlotte's NBC Six, called out as she rushed over to the car. “What is your relationship to Zachary Harrington? Are you representing him and his wife?”

Chante knew she couldn't just sit in the car as the cameramen and reporters surrounded the Mustang. She also knew she wasn't going to say a damned word to any of them.

Opening the door, Chante pushed past the media crush and dashed inside the hotel. A security guard crossed over to Chante. “Ma'am, are you all right?”

“Yes, but please tell me there is another way out of here.”

He nodded. “We're trying to keep our guests isolated from this nonsense. Seems as if some noteworthy people have been staying here and the media got wind of it.”

Chante smiled and didn't say a word. The security guard told her there was a back exit from the parking garage where she could avoid the media if she had parked her car in the guest lot. Luckily, she had. Chante hadn't wanted to run the risk of getting her Jag dented.

“May I ask you a question?” the security guard said.

“Yes, I'm one of those noteworthy people,” she replied.

“What did you do?”

“Told the wrong man I would marry him. I've got to get out of here.”

“Let me help you,” he said. “When you do whatever you came in here for, meet me on the basement level.”

Years of watching Investigation Discovery and reading mysteries made Chante pause about meeting this strange man in the basement. “I don't . . .”

“You can trust me,” he said. “I value my job, and obviously people would come looking for you.”

Chante laughed, then headed for the bank of elevators. After she made it to her floor, she glanced around the corner to make sure she hadn't been followed. She was thankful the reporters didn't know what floor she was on. Heading into her room, she grabbed her keys and a change of clothes, then crossed the hall to the elevators, praying she wouldn't end up a headline for another reason. When she reached the basement, the security guard was waiting for her with a smile and no visible ax.

“Follow me,” he said, then started walking toward an exit. Chante had never been so happy to hear silence.

“Where are we?”

“In the back of the parking deck.” He looked down at her shoes. “I hope you don't mind walking up a few flights of stairs.”

She kicked her high-heeled sandals off and stuck them in her bag, then changed into a pair of flip-flops. “Let's do it.”

The guard kept his word and led her to what Chante thought of as the secret exit. She drove out onto a back road and was happy that she knew the area. Chante was definitely going to ask her grandmother why Sheldon Richardson built this little secret exit.

Right now, she simply wanted to give him a hug and a kiss for doing it. As she drove, Chante closely watched the cars behind her, making sure she wasn't being followed. Thankfully, she made it back to her grandmother's house without being spotted by a reporter. She pulled her car behind the cottage and then headed inside. She was surprised to find Zach sprawled across the blue settee, sleeping. Quietly closing the door, she crossed over to him and kneeled down beside the chair.

He looked so peaceful, and she wondered how long had it been since he'd had a moment of peace. The anger she'd felt when he'd told her the truth about his ex had dulled considerably. Touching his cheek, she wanted to tell him about the scene at the hotel, but more than anything else, she wanted to kiss his full lips.

So she did. Soft. Slow. His eyes fluttered open as he parted his lips, and their tongues mated. Zach eased back from her.

“I thought I was dreaming,” he said. “Then I felt your clothes.”

“Ha,” she said, then stood up and stripped out of her clothes. “It was something like this?”

Zach's eyes sparkled with desire. “Just like that.” He rose to his feet and drew her into his arms. “What took you so long to get back?” Before she could answer, Zach lowered his head and took her nipple into his mouth. Sucking, nibbling, and licking. She moaned and held the back of his head, urging him to keep going. And he did, his tongue circling her diamond-hard bud.

“Mmm,” she moaned. He sucked harder as he stroked her tight abs. Chante shivered as his hand slipped between her thighs. His fingers brushed against her folds, and her breathing became staggered as he slid his finger inside her.

“You're so wet and ready,” he said when he released her nipple.

“Yes,” she breathed. “Need. You.”

Zach pressed his finger deeper. Chante moaned with desire and anticipation. Deeper. Deeper. Chante felt as if she was about to explode. Zach felt her flowing like a waterfall, and he knew that he had to be inside her.

He pulled out of her and licked her essence from his finger. “So sweet,” he said, then quickly took his clothes off. They were both heady with need and desire, and when Zach dove into Chante's wetness, neither of them thought of protection. She wrapped her legs around his waist as they thrust into each other. The bite of her nails against his shoulder added fuel to his fiery want for her. Zach thrust harder, and Chante accepted the blissful release of her orgasm. And as much as he wanted to pull out, knowing that he had to protect them, she felt too damned good, and he couldn't stop the explosion.

Chante blinked as the reality of what they'd done sank in. “Oh my God,” she exclaimed, then pushed against his chest. “That was so irresponsible.”

“I know and I'm . . .”

“Zach, this is on both of us. I mean, I'm on birth control, and I have a clean bill of health, but . . .”

“Let's not borrow trouble.” He gave her naked body a slow once-over and had to stop himself from pulling her into his arms again. Chante cleared her throat.

“I'm going to take a shower and see if I can find some blankets or something.”

“Chante, are you all right?”

She gave him a stiff smile and nodded before heading into the bathroom. Once she closed the door, Chante shook her head and paced the small room for a minute or two.
How could I be so stupid? I guess I'm really losing my mind these days. What I need to do is go back to Charlotte and return to the status quo.

“Are you sure you're okay in there?” Zach asked. “Or is there no water?”

“Umm, just give me a few more minutes. I'll be sure to leave you some hot water.” Hopping in the shower, Chante promised to be more careful with Zach and, more importantly, to get her life back on track. It was time to stop running from Robert, her mother, and the partners at the law firm. She needed to channel her inner Elsie Mae and get her power back. It was time to stop making mistakes and make moves. After her shower, she wrapped up in one of the towels in the bathroom and headed back into the sitting room, where Zach was waiting.

“All good?” he asked.

“I'm about to be. This situation that we're in right now isn't our fault.”

“Listen, I . . .”

“Not talking about that,” she said holding her hand up. “I came to Charleston for many of the same reasons that you did. I'm tired of running.”

Zach rubbed his chin. “You're right. And what good has running done me? However, going to Savannah isn't running. That's just continuing our good time.” He winked at her. But honestly, he hadn't been ready to let her go yet. Wasn't ready to return to the media questions and the coldness of the city, when he had such warmth and freedom in Chante's arms.

She looked at the clock on the wall near an old-school, nineteen-inch TV; it was a little after eight. “I don't know about you, but I'm hungry.”

Looking at Chante in that towel, which barely skimmed her thighs, he wanted to eat; however, it wasn't food that was whetting his appetite. But it had been a while since they had had a meal. He needed food almost as much as he needed to be inside her.

“What are our options?”

“We're going to my parents' house. This is step one in taking my life back, and she's too southern not to feed us.” Chante laughed, and her towel slipped from her body. Zach's mouth watered at the sight of her skin, glittering with moisture. She quickly picked up the towel and covered herself.

“I'm going to get dressed. The shower is all yours,” she said.

Zach slowly rose to his feet. “We should've saved water and showered together.” When he walked into the bathroom, Chante released a sigh. That man made her body tingle all over, just with his lusty glances. Part of her regretted that this would all be coming to an end soon.

She had to be honest: there was no future between her and Zach. She needed to wrap her mind around that and accept it. Charleston had been fun, but real life waited. Zach wasn't a part of her real life.

Dressing in a white maxi dress and a pair of gladiator sandals, Chante thought about her real future. When she returned to Charlotte, she was going to resign from Myrick, Lawson and Walker and start her own firm.

And she was going to handle divorces now. Love was a big joke, and if she could help the heartbroken get what they deserved, then she was doing a service, not being a money-hungry attorney.

When a phone rang, shattering the silence, Chante almost leapt out of her skin. She saw it was Zach's phone. Picking it up, she crossed over to the bathroom and knocked on the door.

“Your phone is ringing,” she said and heard the water shut off.

“Do you mind bringing it to me?” he asked. Chante opened the door and handed him the phone. Seeing him step out of the steamy shower, it was her turn to salivate. Turning her head, she nearly stumbled as she walked out of the bathroom.

“I-I, um, I'm going to call my dad,” she said, then closed the door. Chante fumbled around in her purse, looking for her cell phone. When she found it, she heard Zach cursing from the bathroom.

“She did what? I'm not coming back to New York for that bull . . . I'm done.”

Chante heard a bang. Rushing to the bathroom, she pulled the door open and saw that Zach had put his fist through the thin wall.

“What in the hell?!”

He dropped his head, “I'm sorry,” he said. “I'll make sure to pay for the damage.”

“What happened?” Chante glanced at his bleeding hand and reached for a washcloth to wrap around it. “Zach?”

“That was my assistant. Natalie just held a press conference and said my sister, Zoe, was her partner in the call-girl ring. So my sister was just arrested in Indiana.”

“Oh my God. What are you going to do?”

“I can't do what I want to do, which is find Natalie and strangle her. She knows what she's doing, and I'm not going to let her get away with coming after my family. And she'd better hope that I get to her before Zoe does.”

“Then I guess you're going to New York and not Savannah in the morning.”

“You're right,” he said. Then he shook his head. “I'm sorry. But this I can't ignore.”

She nodded and wiped his hand. “I guess it's time for us to stop running and take our lives back. We're going back to the hotel, and I know a secret way in so we can at least have a modicum of privacy before leaving.”

He stroked her cheek with his good hand. “Do me a favor,” he said.

“What's that?”

“Don't forget about me and what we had these past few days. When I clear this up, I'm coming to get you.”

“You don't have to say that. I understand what this was all about—a vacation fling and a lot of fun. But we both have a lot of baggage that can't really be overcome right now. I won't forget you, but I don't expect anything more.”

Zach nodded but didn't reply. A beat passed, and he smiled. “I'm going to get dressed, and we can get out of here. Thanks for bringing me here. I get the feeling that it takes a special person to get this close to you.”

She smiled and wanted to tell him how special he was. But what would be the point? Who knew when they'd have their lives together or what would happen when they went back to their respective parts of the world?

Suppose he met someone who moved him and allowed him to get over his ex-wife, someone closer to him?

“Lamont Thomas,” she said.

“What?” Zach asked, his brows furrowed.

“The only other guy who has ever been to the cottage with me. We were in the tenth grade, and he said he loved me. I thought we'd be high school sweethearts and end up married. I thought he would love the ambience here and we'd just kiss. So after we ate some of my grandmother's desserts, I thought I'd bring him out here. Unfortunately, he thought I brought him out here to have sex,” she said, then stopped talking.

“Ouch. Did anything happen?”

“I kicked him in the nuts, and he called me a bitch. Then I punched him in the face and broke his nose. In retrospect, he wasn't that special.”

“So you've basically compared me to the teenaged boy who wanted to sample your cookies because you were grooming him to be your first love? I feel some kind of way about that.”