A Scandalous Affair. Donna Hill
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A Scandalous Affair
Donna Hill
To my three beautiful children, Nichole, Dawne and Matthew, who teach me every day what hard work and true love are all about. And my incredible grandkids, Mahlik, Mikayla and Caylib. You guys rock!
Dear Reader,
If you have this hot little book in your hands, I can guarantee that you are in for a treat! When sisters fall for the same sexy, available man, there is bound to be trouble. Throw in some political intrigue and Vaughn Hamilton and Justin Montgomery from Scandalous, which was reissued in October, and it’s sure to be a page turner.
This two-book series was definitely one of my favorites and has stood the test of time.
As always, I thank you for your love and continued support. Happy, happy reading!
Until next time,
Donna
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 1
Associated Press—In a massive march staged to protest the alleged shooting death of African American Roderick Fields by four white police officers, more than 200 angry residents filled the streets last night in front of Washington, D.C.’s police headquarters at 300 Independence Avenue N.W. The protest was led by civil rights activist Samantha Montgomery, daughter of noted legal defense attorney Justin Montgomery and Congresswoman Vaughn Hamilton-Montgomery (D-Va.), working in unison with several local organizations and unions. Montgomery, who has been extremely vocal concerning police abuses, later said in a statement: “The police in this city have declared open warfare on the African American. This is the sixth gangland-style shooting death by police against ‘alleged’ suspects of the African American persuasion in eight months,” Montgomery vehemently stated under the white heat of camera lights and photographers’ flashbulbs. “It is painfully obvious that DWB, or driving while black, is a crime punishable by death in this city—and it will stop.”
Roderick Fields, an eighteen-year-old African American, was gunned down in a hail of bullets during an alleged routine stop and search on Eighteenth Street N.W. around midnight on Monday. His two male companions were also hurt. One youth is listed in grave condition with a gunshot to the head, while the other is described as seriously critical with a bullet lodged in his spine.
In a hurriedly announced late-night press conference, a police spokesman identified the four officers involved in the alleged shooting as Detectives Alan Montana, Josh Hamlick, Lawrence Stavinsky and Vincent Dorsey. None of the officers have made statements to the media, but according to their lawyers, they were acting in selfdefense.
Montgomery’s stepsister, City Councilwoman Simone Montgomery, has been equally assertive in her cry for sweeping police reform and a federal probe into recent abuses during her ongoing campaign for the Assembly seat in her district. The councilwoman was unavailable for comment on this latest incident, according to her spokesman, Adam Parsons.
Although tensions were high, there were no injuries or arrests during last night’s protest. A date for a hearing for the officers has not been set but a preliminary meeting with law enforcement officials to discuss procedures used in the fatal incident is slated for this week, according to a police statement. The mayor’s office has not issued any comment on the march.
Laying The Washington Post on the seat next to him, Chad Rushmore closed his eyes and clenched his teeth in seething disgust. Nothing ever changes, he thought.
He turned his gaze, unseeing, out of the 747’s window, the clouds floating by in a silent stream. He’d spent the last four years touring third-world countries, analyzing international and civil rights laws. He’d seen atrocities that haunted him at night, broke him into cold sweats during his dreams. To return home to a country that prides itself in justice for all, only to see affirmative action overturned, the Voting Rights Act under review, black men hunted like animals and gunned down in streets across the country by police, was to him worse than anything he’d witnessed abroad.
He folded the newspaper in half and stuck it inside the pocket of the seat in front of him. He adjusted his seat and leaned back, finally shutting his eyes to rest. The plane was due to land at Ronald Reagan International Airport in two hours.
It would be good to be back home again. See everyone again. Inwardly, he smiled—Simone and Samantha. They made a formidable team. And he would need all of their skills, all of their energy and resources for what he had in mind.
Justin Montgomery paced, panther-like, across the polished hardwood floors of his artfully designed office. His wife, Vaughn’s, distinctive touch was everywhere, from the placement of the original artwork by Basquiat, Catlett, and Biggers, to the crystal glasses and decanters that glistened like diamonds in the small wet bar on the far side of the spacious but comfortable office. He had to put his foot down when it came to his desk, however. She wanted him to have something contemporary; he insisted on something customary and impressive. So they settled for a rectangular oak desk with a cherry lacquer finish. Women, they had totally taken over his life, he mused not unkindly. And now his daughter Samantha was at it again, and he didn’t know if he wanted to burst with pride or turn her over his knee and give her a good spanking.
He turned toward her, his expression a mixture of anger and frustration. His brows drew together. “Did you read this?” he barked, barely containing his ire, not so much at the comments that his headstrong daughter made—once again—but at what could have happened to her as a result of them.
Samantha crossed her long legs and stared at her father head-on. “Are you going to tell me that I’m wrong?” she challenged, loving to duel with the razorsharp mind of her father. In court, she watched him run circles around the prosecution, hypnotize juries, and simply charm the media. He embodied everything she looked for and respected in a man: integrity, brilliance, a generosity of spirit, loving, funny and handsome. Any man coming into her life would have large shoes