Love Me Tonight (4 page)

“If I can help you in any way, you know I will.”

“I appreciate that. First, I'll find the names and contact information of African-American newspapers.”

“Judson, you don't have to research that. Most of that information is available in the local library or the Internet.”

“Thanks. This is very helpful.”

“I think you have an angel on your shoulder. It's probably not an accident that Scott finally decided to introduce us. He's told me before that he had a friend he wanted me to meet, but I wasn't interested.”

He parked in a lot a few doors from the restaurant and walked around to open the door for her. “Thanks for letting me be a gentleman,” he said. “I know you can open the door, get out, close it and also fasten your seat belt by yourself. But it will give me great pleasure to do those things for you. I may be old-fashioned. Is that going to cause a problem for you?”

She thought for a minute. “I don't think so. It's when a guy gets too possessive that it becomes a problem.”

“I can well imagine.”

“Let's just say that he is no longer relevant.”

After entering the restaurant, the maitre d' seated them, and when Heather looked at the menu, her eyes widened. “This menu is full of things that I love,” she said brightly. In the end, she settled for Parma ham with figs in Marsala wine for a starter and a soup of scallops, lobster, cuttle fish, shrimp, clams and spicy tomato sauce for the main dish. He ordered the same.

Judson strummed his left fingers on the white tablecloth, then leaned back in his chair and looked at
her. “You said the guy who got out of line with you is no longer relevant. Was that your choice or his?”

“I told him how I felt, and we agreed that we had no future. If he hadn't agreed, it still would have been over for me.”

“Is there a man in your life right now?”

“You cut right to the chase. No, there isn't. My father lectured to me about that today. He's probably right, but when I focus on something, it takes priority.”

“You mean your career in the State Department?” She nodded. “Don't you want a family?”

“Of course I do, but I think I can have both.”

“I agree. You can. But not unless you make the effort.” Suddenly, he leaned forward. “The more I see of you and the better I know you, the more I want to know. And there is definitely more than a spark between us.”

“I'm honest, Judson. Yes, there is. But I've worked hard to get where I am, and I want a diplomatic post.”

“If I can balance a medical malpractice suit, a family fight over a rich man's will, a case involving banks in different countries and a lawsuit against an accountant and deal with all of them, I'm sure we can manage a get-together from time to time. You're as smart as I am, maybe smarter. You can handle it. So how about it?”

“I see you've figured out how to respond to certain kinds of challenges.”

He lifted her hand, and she noticed not for the first time his long, tapered fingers. They were the beautiful hands of a capable man, and she wondered how they
would feel on her naked body. She looked up, and shivers shot through her at the longing in his eyes.

“I know myself, Heather. I know what I want.”

The waiter then brought their first course. She looked at the food covering the dinner plate. “If I eat all this, I won't want my seafood course.”

“The owners are generous by nature. They're also forgiving, so leave what you can't eat.” He called the waiter. “I'd like a bottle of pinot grigio Santa Margherita.” He turned back to Heather. “So, do you know what you want from us?”

She savored the ripe fig. “My, you're tenacious. No wonder you're successful. It's a trait that I admire.”

He stopped eating and looked at her. “You haven't answered my question.”

She laughed with joy. “Oh, Judson. I'm so glad you called me today. I needed this.”

“Did you need me?”

She gave him a brilliant smile. “Possibly. I'm not sure.”

 

Outside the restaurant, the warm spring wind brushed his face as he gazed down at the woman beside him. Six weeks earlier, he'd stood in a cool, caressing wind watching as his mother's friends threw roses at her grave site, thinking that he never again wanted the wind to touch his face. He had loved the woman who took him in and mothered him when someone else hadn't wanted him, and losing her left an awful hole.

He needed a family of his own making. As he looked at Heather, a smile lit her face, and he took her hand
and began walking to his car. Maybe she could fill the void in his life. He wasn't sure, but he did know that that feeling of loneliness had disappeared.

“It's early,” he said. “If your day hasn't tired you out, we could stop by the Eubie Blake National Jazz Institute and Cultural Center for a short while, or—”

“I'd like that. I'm not bubbling with energy, but I won't turn down an opportunity to hear live jazz.”

“I'm glad you like jazz. I could listen to the great jazz players of the past forever. I have a good collection of their records.”

“Interesting. Of course, I have quite a few Duke Ellington, Louis Armstrong, Fats Waller and Billie Holiday, but the collections are not nearly complete.”

He squeezed her fingers. “What else do you like?”

“Everything that isn't ultramodern—classical, opera, blues and country. If I can't remember it, I don't want to hear it.”

“If you had asked me that question, my answer would have been just about the same as yours.”

At Eubie Blake's, he greeted the doorman, tipped him and got a front-row table facing the band. Sipping coffee and apparently lost in the music, Heather didn't pull away from him holding her hand. He marveled that she seemed to accept that they would have a relationship of some kind so easily.

They spent an hour at the jazz house. As he walked with her from the elevator to the door of her apartment, he wondered what she'd do if he hugged her good-night. He didn't dare attempt to kiss her. He wasn't in awe of her status. How could he be after spending several
hours gazing at the outline of her beautiful breasts and the print of her nipples against the soft fabric of the dress she wore? He'd walked behind her wondering if her lovely hips would move in unison with his. No, it wasn't awe that stopped him. It was respect.

“May I have your key?”

She handed it to him without the slightest hesitancy and stood aside while he opened the door. “Call me when you get home,” she said, and as if she read his mind, she added, “I'm not urging you off. I want to know that you got home safely. You don't have to talk. Give it two rings and hang up.”

Impulsively he brought her into his arms and hugged her. The feel of her soft and pliant body stirred something inside of him, and he released her at once. When she looked at him with an inquiring expression, he explained.

“I'd still be holding you, but I don't want to lose any points with you.”

She reached up and stroked his left cheek with the back of her hand. “You have some points in reserve. Thanks for a really lovely evening, and get home safely.”

Several thoughts lodged in his mind as he walked away. Had she been telling him that she liked it when he hugged her, that he could have kissed her, or that she would have forgiven him because he'd showed signs of decency?

“Oh, heck!” he said between his teeth. “Why hadn't she just come out and said it? Getting to know a
woman is so damned difficult. I wish they weren't so mysterious.”

Later, he walked into his apartment and called her. She had his office and cell phone numbers, and he wanted her to know how to reach him on his home phone. The number would register on her phone.

He nearly laughed when she answered on the second ring. “Hi. This is Judson. I'm home without mishap.”

“I'll thank the Lord when I say my prayers. Good night.”

“You're a sweet woman. Good night.”

 

“I'm getting involved with this man,” Heather said to herself the next morning, thinking of her evening with Judson and still uncertain as to the wisdom of it. She enjoyed his company, and he fit well into her comfort zone with no effort. It seemed natural to be with him.

As she entered the elevator she encountered Scott at the State Department. “How's it going?” he asked as usual.

“Some good and some bad, Scott. With me, you know nothing ever goes perfectly.”

“No? What about you and Judson? Have you seen him yet?”

“Yes, but… We had dinner together last night.”

They stepped off the elevator, and he gently grabbed her left arm. “I don't get it. I'd have sworn that you two were perfect for each other. Don't you get along?”

“Stop worrying about us, Scott. He's… What do I know? I haven't had enough experience to judge whether it's right to feel so comfortable with a man you hardly
know. I mean, I don't even bother to put up my guard when I'm with Judson, and that isn't my style at all.”

“Why shouldn't you feel comfortable with him? Besides, the real reason you're comfortable with him is because you trust him.”

“Yes. You may be right. I guess what I've needed was a brother.”

A grin spread over his face. “You've got a brother. What am I supposed to be?”

She didn't know whether to laugh or cry. “Scott, that's the nicest thing you've said to me in all the time I've known you. If you ever need a sister remember that you have one in me. And if the people on this floor wouldn't get the wrong idea, I'd hug you.”

He winked at her. “Hug accepted. Save the real ones for Judson.”

“I will,” she said and headed for her office, her steps quick and light. Sitting at her desk, she saw in her in-box a letter, the return address of which told her that this was what she had awaited all of her professional career. With trembling fingers and eyes tightly closed, she pried open the flap of the envelope. And after she forced her eyelids to open, she read that she should make an appointment with her superior for an interview the following morning. Her boss was preparing to appoint an ambassador to Albania.

She wanted the promotion, and it was due, but she did not want to go all the way to Albania. She told Judson as much when he called her a few minutes before noon.

“At least they're not sending you to Calcutta,” he said. “It could be much worse.”

“It isn't an appointment. It's only my first query. They have an opening, and they want to know whether I have the potential to serve as a full ambassador. I definitely do not plan to spend an important chunk of my life in a place that doesn't have a first-class symphony orchestra,” she complained.

He couldn't help laughing. “You'll have to start small, though. At any rate, I'm glad that you're being recognized.”

“Thanks. So am I. What are you planning for today?” she asked him.

“I have some interviews in connection with that medical malpractice suit. What time do you think you'll get home tomorrow?”

“Sometime late in the afternoon. Maybe around five-thirty or six.”

“Could we have dinner together at about seven?”

She hadn't expected him to want to see her again so soon. “I'd like that. Come by for me at six-thirty.” She suspected that she had a lot to learn about Judson. She told herself to be home by five-thirty.

“Thanks. See you at six-thirty. Good luck with your interview tomorrow.” They hung up.

Heather knew that she had no plans to accept a post in Albania, neither then nor ever. Let them give that post to a deserving political junkie. She was a career diplomat, and she had earned their more thoughtful consideration. And if she didn't get it, she certainly had other, good options.

“I can always practice law,” she said to herself, “or, for that matter, I can teach.”

But the idea of giving up on her dream, as so many of her colleagues had been forced to do, dampened her spirits.

 

“I'm going to have to postpone our court date,” Judson told Curtis Heywood. “Two of your witnesses don't want to be involved, and I'll have to find others. Meanwhile, see if you can locate more evidence. I'll put my research staff on it, and if there's evidence of culpability beyond what we have, they'll find it.”

He put the phone back in its cradle, leaned back in his chair and made a pyramid of his ten fingers. The case didn't bother him. He knew he'd win it. The problem was to get additional evidence so that it wouldn't drag on while the defense lawyer manufactured one cockamamy scenario after another.

His thoughts centered on Heather. Her news that she could be sent to Albania didn't cheer him. Their relationship was too new to withstand a lengthy separation. It was one more reason why he had to get his life in order, beginning with his identity. He left the office an hour earlier than usual, went home and headed for his mother's bedroom. He'd start there, but, if necessary, he'd search every centimeter of the house and its contents from the basement to the attic. He threw his jacket across a chair, rolled up his sleeves and opened the closet door.

Again, he found nothing of relevance in his mother's room other than the mysterious birth announcement and the birth and death certificates of the infant who succumbed not long before his parents adopted him. At
least that was his impression based on what he knew of the timing of his adoption. He would have to go to Hagerstown and begin the search there.

 

“I'm going to Hagerstown tomorrow,” he told Heather the next evening as they dined at Chiapparelli's in Baltimore's Little Italy. “I hope I have as much luck as you did today.”

“So do I. If you can get one lead, you're on your way.”

“Will they offer you an ambassadorship if you go to Albania?” He held his breath until he had her answer.