Simply Scandalous

Logan folded his arms over his chest. “You mentioned a plan,” he prodded. “So how can she save me?” He pointed to the blonde across the way.

Emma nodded. “You need a public trashing and who better to ruin your reputation than a woman born into poverty with a family history of prostitution behind her?”

He choked on champagne bubbles. “You’re exaggerating.” He glanced at Emma’s target.

She’d left the covering of the bar and now tread with a light step, gliding among the guests, talking quietly with the help serving hors d’oeuvres. Her air of authority set her apart from the other hired help. So did the miniskirt she wore in place of the black pants favored by the rest of the waitresses. A black bow tie nestled below her chin, accentuating her heart-shaped face. How had he missed that before?

“She owns Pot Luck, the caterers. She doesn’t attend every event her company caters, but I insisted she run this one.”

“Of course you did,” he muttered.

“She’s a woman after my own heart. Remember the charm school the cops closed down last year?”

“Vaguely. I was out of state.” He’d graduated from Columbia Law School and snagged a job at the Manhattan district attorney’s office, working there until Emma’s mild heart attack this past year brought him home. He wanted more time with his family. Other than his sister, Grace, with whom he’d bunked in Manhattan, Emma was the only family who counted.

“Well, she and her sister,” Emma said, pointing to the caterer, “inherited that business. Turns out the previous owner, her uncle, was operating a call-girl service in disguise.”

“But she wasn’t involved.”

“Well, no, but it’s family scandal. And to make things even better, she used to work for them when she was in college.” His grandmother clapped her hands in growing excitement.

“She was a prostitute?”

“Bite your slandering tongue. She taught classes for the testosterone impaired. All on the up-and-up. But think of your parents’ reaction if you brought home a woman whose family had dabbled in prostitution. A woman who instructed the single man on how to score.”

Certain she had done no such thing, Logan refused to touch that outrageous comment. “I don’t bring women home,” he said instead.

Why should he? His parents would take it as a sign the prodigal son was ready to settle down. Logan couldn’t say he wasn’t itching for steady companionship. He was. He couldn’t say he didn’t long for someone to come home to at the end of the day. He wanted that, too. But he’d yet to meet a woman who interested him enough to forsake all others, let alone one he could imagine looking at across the dinner table each and every night for the rest of his natural life.

“You would if you met the right one,” his grandmother said, with a gleam in her eyes that alarmed him.

The old lady had an agenda. Logan only wished he knew more. Just because Emma was admitting her scheme aloud didn’t mean she was revealing all.

He knew her too well to be anywhere near complacent, but he decided to humor her for now. “My social life is plenty full, Gran. Too full to settle for just one female out of the bunch.”

His social life was full, all right. Full of renovation and restoration. Logan was busy, just not busy playing the field. But a white lie wouldn’t hurt anyone, least of all Emma, who needed to believe Logan was happy and on the lookout for the future Mrs. Montgomery.

While he met, dated and appreciated females as much as any man, he didn’t see a long-term relationship in his future. The women he met at the P.D.’s office and the opposing counsel he ran into around the courthouse cared more for what the Montgomery name could do for them than in Logan himself. Same for the women in his parents’ illustrious social circle. They sought only to marry and keep their steady income streaming in. All were disappointed and disinterested once they discovered Logan lived off his salary and kept himself isolated from the family legacy.

A marriage for the sake of appearances, like the one his parents shared, didn’t interest him. No one benefited from a loveless union—especially not the requisite number of children, born only for show. Children raised by servants and ignored by their parents.

“Open your eyes, son. You never know what’s in front of you. Now, as I was saying about your father and his mayoral ideas. If making your point in private doesn’t work, we can always resort to the headlines. Judge Montgomery’s Son Dating Ex-Hooker. Not that I’m in favor of that approach, mind you—Catherine deserves better.” She pointed to the woman in the corner.

At least now she had a name. He’d need one if he wanted to get to know her better.

“You know how the papers exaggerate about sex,” Emma said. “You’ll be a dropout candidate before you know it.”

He let out a groan. Humoring her was getting more difficult. “I hate to break it to you, Gran, but sex scandals don’t affect approval ratings anymore.”

Emma shrugged. “Maybe not but I can see you’re interested. So go for it with Cat and get caught. My money says the embarrassment will be enough. Your father will call off the campaign.”

Logan shook his head. “You really do have an overactive imagination. There’s no reason to go that far. A press conference minus the candidate will take care of any expectations.”

“And how would that affect your job at the public defender’s office? I happen to know it’s a first step toward opening your own law office down on the docks.”

“Both are my business and as much as I appreciate your concern, I can handle my life without help.”

As if on cue, a large hand slapped Logan on the shoulder. “Good to see you, son. I knew you wouldn’t miss a chance to mingle with your supporters.”

In a move she’d perfected over the years, his grandmother raised an eyebrow and nodded her head, as if to say, I told you so.

He met his father’s gaze. “Of course not. These people are very important.” To Emma, Logan added silently, which was the only reason he’d chosen to attend.

His father puffed out his chest and beamed, obviously misconstruing Logan’s agreement. Logan didn’t bother to explain. The judge would never listen.

“I’m glad you agree. Now you’ve got to learn the art of working a room,” Edgar said.

“What room?” Logan asked, deliberately playing dumb. He glanced at the sky and the clouds that had been steadily rolling in. “I thought this was an outdoor garden party, not a political fund-raiser.”

“I like your sense of humor, son.”

Behind the judge’s back, Emma caught Logan’s attention with a wave. She rolled her eyes and they shared a silent laugh at the judge’s single-mindedness.

“Glad you’re amused,” Logan muttered.

“Yes, but you know as well as I do that behind every event there is a purpose,” the older man said. “The fact that you showed up for this is telling.” He adjusted the lapels of his jacket.

Logan waited a beat before walking around and placing an arm around his grandmother’s shoulder. “The only thing my appearance should tell you is I wouldn’t miss one of Emma’s extravaganzas. Beyond that, I have no purpose or hidden agenda.”

He gave the older woman a loving squeeze. Her frailty stunned him a moment before he reassured himself. Behind the aging body lay an agile mind and a generous spirit.

“I promised him a good time, something you’ve never learned how to have.” An irreverent gleam sparkled in the older woman’s gaze.

The judge shot his mother a warning look then faced Logan once more. “We need to talk.”

Logan studied his father. With his dark double-breasted suit and air of authority, Judge Montgomery appeared every inch the man in control of his domain. Too bad for him Logan no longer lived within that realm, nor could he be manipulated. “There’s nothing to discuss.”

The judge shook his head. “I want what’s best for you, son, and that means putting you in public office.”

“Placing me in office is what’s best for you. You want me to carry on the political tradition. I want to live my own life.”

“You’re young.” He clapped Logan on the shoulder. “You’ll come around.”

Logan raised an eyebrow. “You’re probably right. After all, I bought my house even after you put a down payment on a penthouse apartment in Boston. I took the P.D.’s job even after you pulled strings at Fitch and Fitzwater, the leading firm downtown.” He shrugged. “I suppose if you hold your breath long enough, I might come around after all.”

Edgar narrowed his eyes. “This is your influence,” the judge said to his mother.

“If so, I’m proud of him. And you should be, too,” Emma said. “Shame on you, Edgar. I raised you better than this.”