Her Secret, His Duty. Carla Cassidy
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he probably just wanted to double-check that she didn’t intend to go public with their misdeed, but even thinking that did a disservice to the woman he knew that Debra was. He knew how devoted she was to the family. She would never do anything to hurt any of them in any way.
Instead of heading home to his mansion, he decided to drop in and visit with his grandmother in the nursing home. As he drove his thoughts continued to be filled with Debra.
She’d looked cute as a bug in her jeans and green sweatshirt. He’d never seen her in casual clothes before and the jeans had hugged her long legs, shapely legs that he remembered wrapped around him.
He tightened his grip on the steering wheel, realizing the skies were spitting a bit of ice. January in Raleigh could be surprisingly unpredictable. It might be cold with a bit of snow or ice, or it could be surprisingly mild. Occasionally they got a killer ice storm, but thankfully nothing like that so far this year.
The weather forecast that morning had mentioned the threat of a little frozen precipitation, but nothing for travelers to worry about. Slowing his speed a bit, his thoughts went back to Debra.
Her townhome had surprised him. He’d expected the furnishings to be utilitarian and rather cold, but stepping into her living room had been like being welcomed into a place where he’d wanted to stay and linger awhile.
The living space had been warm and inviting, as had the kitchen, as well. He thought of the stark formal furnishings in his own mansion and for a moment entertained the idea of hiring Debra to do a bit of decorating transformation.
It was a silly thought. If he worked his plan to achieve his ultimate goal, then Cecily would be moving into the mansion and she’d want to put her own personal stamp in place there, although he doubted that Cecily would have the taste for warm and inviting. She’d want formal and expensive. She’d want to create a showcase rather than a home.
He punched the button on his steering wheel that would connect him to phone services. He gave the command to call Cecily on her cell and then waited for her to answer.
“Darling,” her voice chirped through the interior of the car. “I was wondering if I was going to hear from you today.”
“Between work at the office and planning this dinner party, I’ve been swamped.” He could hear from the background noise on her phone that she wasn’t at home. “Where are you now?”
“At a Women’s League meeting. I’m already not-so-subtly campaigning for you, Trey.”
He smiled, certain that she was doing just that. “You know I appreciate it.”
“You’d better,” she replied with a laugh. “Rumor has it your mother is seriously considering running for president. We’ll let her have that position for two terms and then we’ll be ready to move into the White House.”
Trey laughed. “One step at a time, Cecily. This dinner party will let me know if I can get some of the big hitters in town behind me in order to achieve the first step in the process.”
“You can take it one step at a time, but I’m already envisioning what the White House Christmas tree will look like,” she replied with a laugh. “Oh, gotta go. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
She ended the call and Trey shook his head. Cecily McKenna was like a force of nature, unstoppable and powerful and completely in his corner. She would make a perfect ally and support as a wife.
He pulled into the parking lot of the Brookside Nursing Home, an upscale establishment where his grandmother, Eunice, had resided since Walt’s death.
When she’d lost her husband she had spiraled into a depression so deep nobody seemed to be able to pull her out. Trey knew one of the most difficult decisions his mother had made was to move her own mother here instead of keeping her living at the estate. But Eunice needed more than what Kate and the family could provide.
After several months of residency Eunice had appeared to rally from her depression. She seemed quite content where she was, in a small apartmentlike set of rooms with an aid who stayed with her twenty-four hours a day.
He nodded to the security guard on duty outside the front door and entered into a small lobby with a couple of elegant chairs and a front desk.
“Good evening, Mr. Winston,” Amy Fedder, a middle-aged woman behind the reception desk greeted him. He was a frequent visitor and knew most of the people on staff.
“Hi, Amy.” He walked to the desk where there was a sign-in sheet and quickly signed his name and the time he’d arrived. “Have you heard how she’s doing today?”
“I know she had dinner in the dining room and earlier in the day she joined a group of women playing bingo.”
“Then it sounds like it’s been a good day for her,” he replied, a happiness filling him. He adored his grandmother. “Thanks Amy, I’ll see you on my way out.” He left the front desk and headed for the elevator, which would take him to the second floor where his grandmother’s little apartment was located. It amused him that her place was in what the nursing home called the west wing.
There were only forty residents at any given time in Brookside and almost as many staff members. The nursing home catered to the wealthy and powerful who wanted their loved ones in an upscale environment with exceptional care and security. Every member of the staff had undergone intense background and security checks before being hired and there was a front door and a back door, both with an armed security guard on duty at all times.
He got off the elevator and walked down a long hallway, passing several closed doors before he arrived at apartment 211.
He knocked and the door was answered by Serena Sue Sana, a tall beautiful African-American woman who went by the nickname of Sassy. She was of an indeterminable age, but Trey guessed her to be somewhere in her mid-sixties.
“Mr. Trey,” she greeted him, her white teeth flashing in a bright smile. “Come in.” She opened the door wider. “Ms. Eunice will be so happy to see you.” She leaned closer to him. “She’s had a good day but seems a bit agitated this evening,” she whispered.
He nodded and walked into the nice-size living room with a small kitchenette area and doors that led to the bathroom and two bedrooms, one large and one smaller.
His eighty-six-year-old grandmother was where she usually was at this time of the evening, her small frame nearly swallowed up by the comfortable light blue chair surrounding her.
Her silvery-white hair was pulled up neatly into a bun atop her head and her blue eyes lit up and a smile curved her lips at the sight of him. “I know you,” she said, her affection for him thick in her voice.
“And I know you,” Trey replied as he walked over to her and planted a kiss on her forehead.
“I’ll just go on into my room so you two can have a nice private chat,” Sassy said.
“Before you go, would you make this television be quiet?” Eunice held out the remote control to Sassy.
“I’ll take care of it,” Trey replied. He sat in the chair next to Eunice and took the remote control and hit the mute button as Sassy disappeared into the small bedroom and closed the door behind her.
“I love Sassy to death, but she likes to watch the silliest television shows,” Eunice said. “And sometimes I just like to sit and visit with my favorite grandson.”
“I’ll bet you say that to all your grandsons,” Trey said teasingly.
She giggled like a young girl. “You might be right about that.” Her blue eyes, so like Trey’s mother’s, sparkled merrily.
“I heard you played bingo this afternoon,” Trey said.
Her smile instantly transformed into a frown. “Did I...? Yes, yes I did, although I didn’t win. I never win.” She leaned closer to him. “That woman from downstairs in 108 always wins. I think the fix is in.”
Trey