Scandalous by Donna Hill Page A

dreams, to be fulfilled and exceeded by Vaughn. At any cost.
    She shut her eyes and the old pain resurfaced and twisted her heart. She pressed her fist to her chest. She was afraid. This was the first time in her forty years of marriage that she didn’t believe her dynamic husband had the power to make the impossible a reality. What was more frightening was that she could not intervene. To do so would destroy her marriage and possibly ruin Elliott’s career, and she knew she would lose the greatest love of all…Vaughn’s.
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    Simone hadn’t told anyone about the money, not even Jean. She just had the irrational feeling that if she spokeabout it, it would all somehow disappear. She knew that the notion was ridiculous, but that still didn’t stop her from checking the account every other day—just to be sure.
    She sat down on her bed, staring blankly at the array of posters, class schedules, and activity notices tacked to her bulletin board. Somehow she believed that the money was either a clue to her past or a doorway to her future. It was up to her to decide which path to choose.
    Her gaze drifted, then rested on a picture of her foster parents that sat on her dresser. She smiled wistfully. She picked up the picture and looked at it lovingly. She loved her foster parents. There was no doubt in her mind about that. Linda and Philip Clark were everything a child could want. They cared for her and loved her unquestionably, regardless of the origins of her birth. Yet deep in her soul remained the silent yearning to know from where she’d come. And why—why had she been abandoned? Why was she so unworthy of her natural parents’ love? That question had gnawed at her all of her nineteen years. At times it made her feel worthless, unlovable, and insecure. She hadn’t been wanted from birth. That was a heavy burden. Then there were those times she’d even had doubts about her foster parents’ love. Why had they never adopted her and given her their name? They had an explanation, a flimsy one, but an explanation nonetheless. One which worked well during her adolescence, but failed to hold up to teenage scrutiny. Eventually she’d stopped asking, but the underlying pain had always remained with her.
    Over the years, Simone had valiantly shielded herself from her insecurities, forcing herself to excel. By eighteen, she’d amassed trophies in track and field, tennis and swimming. She’d skipped grades on three separate occasions, had always remained at the top of her classes,and now had the opportunity to graduate a semester early if she could secure an internship to satisfy the requirements for a political science major. Simone was an achiever, a planner and a stickler for being prepared. Which was what she had to be when she made her call.
    Simone pushed herself up off the bed, deciding to take a jog around the track and try to organize her thoughts in preparation for her phone call to Justin Montgomery. When she returned from her run she would finish putting together her package containing her cover letter, résumé, and letters of recommendation from her professors. She knew her head would be clearer when she returned. Physical activity had a way of smoothing out the rough edges for Simone. Whenever she had a difficult test or a presentation to make or was struggling through a personal dilemma, she would run or swim. The ultimate result was that her head was always clearer and she had more perspective. For the moment she would put her myriad thoughts and emotions on hold and wait to unleash them on the track.
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    Her tight thighs and calves expanded and contracted as her sneakered feet pounded against the gravel track. Her arms pumped. Her thick ponytail swung defiantly against the wind. Her slender frame cut an alluring silhouette against the lush green background.
    As Simone jogged, the rush of adrenaline pumped through her veins and the clean spring air