Cause For Scandal (Dynasties: The Elliotts #3)(13)
Author: Anna DePalo

He slid off a bar stool. “Hey, sweetie.”

She tried not to wince at the endearment. It reminded her that she was lower than a worm, that John had always treated her like a princess and that he didn’t deserve what she was about to tell him.

When he leaned in for a quick peck on the lips, she looked away at the last moment so that his lips met her cheek.

She could see the slight puzzlement on his face as he pulled away.

“Is our table ready?” she asked cheerfully.

“I think so,” he said.

He nodded to the bartender and settled his tab, then, with his hand at the small of her back, he guided her forward. A hostess showed them to their table, and John waited until Summer herself was seated before taking his own seat.

Settled in, he reached over and took her hand, rubbing the back of it in a circular motion with his thumb. “I missed you.”

Summer smiled feebly.

What was wrong with her? Looking into John’s caring dark brown eyes and catching sight of his disarming dimples, she questioned her decision and wondered whether she was about to compound one error with another. John was a man that any woman would be proud to be seen with. He was good-looking, hard-working, ambitious and reliable. In short, a catch in any sense of the word.

“I’m glad you’re back,” she responded, sliding her hand away. “Are you going to order some wine?”

He frowned. “Yes. I just hadn’t gotten around to it yet.” Nevertheless, he picked up the wine list and started reading it.

Summer took the opportunity to study him. The light from the overhead chandeliers caused his light brown hair to glint and gleam. He should have been perfect for her, but something had been missing.

Doubts. She’d been having them all along where John was concerned. Niggling doubts that hadn’t gone away. But why, why, did she have to sleep with another man before she was willing to face them?

After the wine arrived, they ordered, then discussed John’s trip. Because John traveled often for his high-octane career in advertising, he was often full of interesting stories about shooting TV commercials and developing promotional campaigns for new products.

“So, we sewed up the deal,” he said, cutting into his beef Wellington. “Three print ads for watches by one of Hollywood’s hottest actresses.”

“I’m surprised she agreed to do it,” Summer commented.

“So am I. A lot of film stars are reluctant to do ads in the United States because they’re afraid it’ll detract from their image. They’ll do ads abroad, but only with the stipulation that those ads won’t run in the U.S.”

“So why do you think she agreed to do it?”

“Money,” John replied. “This advertising campaign is going to cost our client a bundle, but the CEO thinks it’s worth it because their target audience is the eighteen-to-twenty-four age group.”

Summer had grown used to John throwing out advertising jargon as if it was second nature. He talked in terms of target audiences, market share and campaigns. She knew that being immersed in his career was part of what made John so successful at what he did.

As a waiter moved away with their plates, John said, “By the way, I saw that Scarlet was linked to Zeke Woodlow in today’s gossip columns. Maybe she can convince him to do some ads.”

Wine sloshed from the glass that Summer was raising to her lips. She watched as the spilled liquid caused a couple of angry red spots to spread on the formerly pristine tablecloth.

“Careful,” John said.

She set down her glass with a thump and cleared her throat. She’d been waiting for the right moment to broach the subject of Zeke and now she was out of excuses. Dinner was over, and there was no time like the present.

“John, we have to talk,” she blurted, waving off a waiter who had approached with dessert menus.

John looked at her inquiringly for an instant, then asked the waiter for the check. As the waiter moved off, he said, “So talk. You’ve seemed jumpy and distracted all night. I was wondering what was bothering you.”

“This is hard,” she began. Explain first and confess later, or confess first and explain later? She waffled.

“Yes?” he prompted.

“Something unexpected happened while you were away, and I—I came to some realizations.”

He said nothing, just looked at her expectantly.

Tears threatened. She felt as if she were about to kick a puppy. Looking down, she said in a rush, “John, I can’t marry you.”

“What?” he said on a forced and skeptical laugh.

“It’s not a joke.”

“Why? I thought—”

She didn’t let him finish. “I had sex with someone last night. Zeke Woodlow.”

There it was. The harsh, glaring truth.

John looked as if she’d slapped him or thrown a bucket of ice water over his head.

“What did you say?”

“I slept with Zeke Woodlow last night. The gossip columns got it wrong. It wasn’t Scarlet with Zeke. It was me.” She took a deep breath, her eyes pleading with him for some understanding even though she neither deserved nor expected any. “I didn’t plan it. I went to a Musicians for a Cure concert to try to land an interview with Zeke for The Buzz.” She trailed off helplessly, “I don’t know what happened….”

John snorted derisively. “Come on, Summer, you know what happened.” His brows snapped together. “So you’re now on a first-name basis with Zeke, are you?”

Realizing her mistake, Summer shook her head. “I don’t blame you for being angry and hurt.”

“Really?” he said sarcastically, then raked his fingers through his hair. “I go away for a few days and you sleep with someone else. Do you know how that makes me feel? You told me you wanted to wait for marriage.”

“I know,” she said guiltily, “and I’ve spent the past twenty-four hours wondering how and why last night happened. I wasn’t drunk or too stressed out, but I realized I’d been pushing aside doubts about us.”

“What doubts? We’re perfect for each other. We want the same things out of life.”

“Yes,” she agreed, knowing she had to tread carefully, “but we lack spark. Maybe…maybe that’s why it was so easy for us to put off sex for so long.”

He said nothing.

“Maybe we love one another without being passionate about each other.” She added softly, “You deserve to have some passion in your life, John. We both do.”