A/N: Here's the rewritten version of A Passionate Affair. I hope you like it.

Review.

A Passionate Affair

by wackystrings123

Chapter 1

This was not how Troy Bolton planned on spending his Friday night; actually, this was indescribably far from what he had in mind. And to make matters worse, this was the first free night he had, during which he did not have to spend hours either at the gym or held at some conference, or basketball game, no, tonight was all his, his night. Or it was…up until three hours ago. Now he was stuck at some cocktail party with a tie that was doing nothing but cutting off his air supply and suit that if he got so much as a speck of dust on it, he would not live another hour.

He knew it was rude and "un-host-like" of him to stand, or preferably slouch against the wall, in the corner of the large extravagantly decorated tent, sulkily sipping at his cocktail with one hand in his pocket as his bright ocean blue orbs analyzed the many celebrity guests laughing and mingling with one another. At the very moment, his eyes were locked on two elderly women openly bickering in the middle of the dance floor. He could not help but chuckle at the way their arms flailed dramatically and their heads bobbed with every word that passed through their mouths.

"Oh my fucking G*d! Are they trying to jerk? At a formal dinner party? I swear, they look like Miss Piggy and Kermit"

Troy jumped at the sound of the foreign voice that had interrupted his comfortable silence and whipped his head towards the speaker and felt his breath catch in his throat as their eyes locked.

Her gleaming ebony hair, twisted into one giant curl and held by a black hair tie, hung low down her back, without a single strand falling into her oval, olive face. Her dark doe-shaped mocha eyes stared back up at him with mischievous humor as one of small hands tugged at her white uniform, while the other attempted to balance a tray of drinks. Her plump, bright pink lips stretched into a slight smirk. She clicked her tongue cheekily and turned away from him to offer a few guests some drinks. Finally able to catch his breath, Troy opened his mouth to respond just as her slender body slithered through several people and got swallowed up by the sea of guests.

Who was she?

He was captivated by her exotic beauty and the air of confidence and mischief that hung around her. Her image was still fresh in his mind; from the tight black trousers to the high collar shirt, to her shortness and her evident curviness, all the way to her chocolate brown pools. He needed to know who she was. He had never seen her around before…

"Troy!"

A wife; you have a wife Bolton. Focus.

"Yeah Shar"

Sharpay Evans; every mans fantasy, from the endless, tanned shapely legs, to the sexily curvy body, large chest, rich golden locks. To sum it up, Sharpay Evans was perfect, and she was all his. The singer, slash, actress had been thrust into the world of stardom at the day she was born, reason being she was the heiress to the famous worldwide country club, Lava Springs, so rising to the top in Hollywood had not been a struggle for her at all.

"This is Sean Davidson, owner of the Chicago Bulls."

On any normal circumstance, Troy would have transformed into a blubbering fool upon meeting someone of his status, but presently his mind had been captivated by the exotic waitress and all he could manage was a curt "pleasure to meet you sir" and a firm handshake.

"Ah, a Lakers man can't wait to play you guys in a couple of weeks."

Troy forced a laugh as he pretended to be interested in what the large gutted man was saying. He had to get out of this hell-hole, no man was meant to spend their Friday night hosed up in some elegant tent, munching little tit-bits of food and sipping expensive champagne, no! He was meant to be at home, in front of his plasma screen television, in his "man cave", downing beer and attacking several pizza boxes whilst watching basketball players dart across the screen; or better yet, tapping away on his Xbox.

Without meaning to do so, Troy's shoulders slumped, his arms folded across his chest and his expression bore complete and utter boredom. He was so bored that he had even forgotten about the Filipina woman that had captured his attention moments prior…that was until he felt an ice cold substance seep through the front of his chest, causing his eyes to pop out in shock and horror and his body to freeze at the sensation. The clatter that followed went unheard by his ears as his surprised blue orbs searched wildly for the cause of his sudden discomfort.

"What the hell are you doing?" beside him he heard the unmistakable shriek of his wife as she too jumped away from the cold matter.

"I am so sorry!" an apologetic and frantic voice stood out through all the commotion. Troy's head shot up at the familiarity of the sound and the continuous pounding in his chest seemingly ceased as his eyes fell on the familiar figure of the brunette beauty. He felt his insides twist violently at the sight and an uncontrollable grin adorned his face.

"Don't worry about it." He hastily assured her as he tried to swat away Sharpay's frantic attempts at ridding his shirt of the unidentifiable liquid at the same time trying not to break eye contact with the unnamed waitress.

A small, hardly noticeable smile splayed across her darkened features as a deep scarlet color claimed her cheeks. She reflexively bowed her head and trained her dark mocha eyes on her shiny black shoes, praying that no one had caught a glimpse of her shaded and heated cheeks.

"Baby your shirt is ruined!"

"It's no big deal Pay; I'll just throw it in the wash." He countered tugging his soaked shirt forward so the sticky liquid would not come into contact with his skin. Even as he spoke his azure eyes never left the dark tresses that coiled down her clothed back.

"No big deal? Troy, this is silk!" Angered as well as panicked, the blonde whipped around o face the embarrassed wait staff. "What is wrong with you?"

"It was an accident!" the brunette's eyes flicked back up to meet Sharpay's flaming hazel ones.

"She didn't mean to Pay." Troy spoke trying to comfort his enraged wife. He gently clasped her hand in his and tugged her slender body towards him. "I'll just go and change." He whispered softly, only to her.

Still scowling in distaste, Sharpay managed to steer her husband through the crowd with the still flushed waitress at their heels.

"You, Estelle!" a tiny blonde scurried up to Sharpay, dressed similarly to the silent waitress who stood stock-still watching with caution the two blondes interact. Estelle's dark blonde ponytail swished from side o side as her dainty feet padded against the sparkling marble floor. Her green eyes looked scared and anxious and Troy felt pity for the woman.

"Yes ma'am?" she spoke with a heavy Russian accent.

"Go find Emanuel and tell him that Troy needs another tux, immediately."

"Yes ma'am." And with those words, Estelle scampered off, seemingly relieved to be away from the blonde diva.

Even though she was slightly worried for her career, the brunette waitress had to admire the authority that the actress possessed; she almost felt an urge to bow at her feet, only to laugh silently at the thought.

"You would not find this amusing if I made you pay for the damages you have caused." Sharpay remarked as she led the way to vast unoccupied bathroom. The guilty waitress's mouth fell open at the sight of the room.

Expensive and shiny was the best way to describe it. Everything glistened, from the shower, to the bathtub, to the twin sinks and even the toilet, as well as the dark tiled floor.

"Miss Evans, Emanuel says to tell you he does not know which suit you are speaking of."

Sharpay let out a sound between a growl, a hiss and a curse before stomping off, followed closely by a frantic Estelle. "Maria, clean his shirt." She snapped towards the amused waitress, jerking her blonde head in Troy's direction. Troy, who was leaning against the ceramic sink, rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly and shot an annoyed expression towards his wife. "I'm not incapacitated, Pay. I'm quite capable of cleaning my own clothes." He absolutely detested arguing with his wife, but there were a few times when he was unable to control his irritation.

"I know that sweetie, but she has to pay for her actions in some way." The loud clacking of Sharpay's heels reduced.

"She's really something isn't she?" Troy attempted to break the awkward silence that followed his wife's departure. He even tried to force a convincing smile, though his right hand never left the back of his neck.

She grinned and nodded cheekily; still not meeting his eyes s she walked hesitantly towards him and picked up the damp cloth Sharpay had flung in the sink. Troy forced himself to take a few minuscule steps away from her as her small body brushed against his larger one. His nostrils burned delightfully as her scent engulfed his senses, drowning out any coherent words his brain was throwing at him. He inhaled her distinct mango and watermelon scent, finding that his nostrils greatly enjoyed the unique combination. His panicked eyes latched onto the back of her head as she skillfully rinsed the towel in the sink before squeezing out the water and turning to face him, all traces of playfulness gone and replaced with blank nothingness.

"Please take your shirt off Mr. Bolton." She said coolly and very professionally.

Troy felt his eyebrows furrow in confusion as his eyes analyzed the small exotic beauty before him. From where he stood he could feel the intense heat radiating off her frame, igniting an unknown spark within him. He let out an awkward chuckle before proceeding to undo the buttons of his shirt, his gaze never averting from her unfathomable face.

"So, um…Maria?" he asked conversationally as he pulled the heavy material off his broad shoulders. Her gaze flicked between his sculptured chest and eyes before resting on the soaked towel. Without a word she took his shirt from his hands and spread it across the glass countertop before dabbing at it gently with the towel. "Um…okay." Troy chuckled in embarrassment as he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. He casually leaned against the wall opposite her and folded his arms across his chest as he tried to make sense of the girl working furiously n his shirt. Normally, girls would have jumped at any opportunity to have a conversation with or would even burst into a fit of embarrassed giggles whenever he spoke to them, even the professional ones. But she; she was something else.

He felt an admiring grin curl across his face as he watched the blue towel, clutched strongly in her small hands, rub against the brown stain on his clothes. The way her small, fragile body shook with every swipe, the way her giant curl bounced against her small curved shoulders as she worked sparked an interest in him, one that he had never felt before. He had never actually paused to admire the way people worked, the angles, the calculated movements. The only times he did take notice of these was only when it came to sports. And even then he had never paid the much careful attention to the athletes like he was doing with the mysterious woman.

"So, uhm, Maria," he began, stressing her name in a teasing manner, hoping it would get a reaction out of her, "Where are you from?"

"A womb" was her mechanical reply. Her movements did not falter once. And her head did not rise to meet his eyes through the mirror either.

He laughed lightly, bowing his head to hide his shameful embarrassment and crossed his right leg over his left, hoping he didn't sound stupid. "Yeah…right, obviously."

Again no reaction.

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. What had happened to the waitress with the odd sense of humor?

"But I mean, right…um, never mind." He awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck and stared down at his own reflection in his black shoes—picked out by Sharpay, and the very pair he had attempted multiple times to get rid of. "Um, so," he tried again. He could almost feel her irritation at his persistent attempts to begin a conversation, "what happened to Kermit and Miss Piggy?"

Her plump, pink lips twitched. Perfect, he had gotten a reaction, finally. She stopped scrubbing vigorously and slowly turned to face him. Her hip rested against the edge of the dark granite surface and her tanned hands grippe the edge securely on both sides of her hips. She sucked her lips into her mouth to form a straight line and studied him through her long, thick lashes. Her legs stretched out before her as she slouched against the surface.

"Last I saw them Miss Piggy was panting at a table in the corner" she began, still not allowing him to see her dark brown pools, "Kermit was trying to…" she trailed off in giggles and Troy felt his heart melt as the melodious sound filled the tiled room, "it was fucking hilarious," she giggled, "he was trying to do the 'stanky leg' to impress some Barbie chick…" she trailed off distantly, still smiling at the memory. Troy laughed slightly as he understood what she was trying to explain "and, um, just saw you know, me and a couple of other staff members walked in, a number of times, on couples in your coat-room. It's more like a 'fuck-room' than a coat-room." She finally let her eyes fall on his. The air in the room thickened as their gazes collided, eyes filled with desire, lust and complete, inexplicable want. His heart constricted in beneath his ribs, he could feel a trickle of sweat glide down his back as a sudden, unexplainable, heat filled the opulent room. His palms perspired and his oxygen intake dropped drastically. He wanted nothing more than to take the three large steps to her and engulf the complete stranger in his arms, and do things to her that would make his mother faint and his best friend "whoop". He had this strange gut wrenching feeling that he would have done just that had he not heard the familiar clacking of heels just outside the bathroom.

"Do I have to do everything here by myself?" he heard the muffled complaint of his wife through the thick door. Almost immediately, the still unnamed waitress turned away from him returning to the closed up being she had been before and resumed her earlier actions. Troy felt anger, rejection, sadness, all wrapped up in lust, wash over him at the motion. Why did Sharpay have to come now?

A sudden and tragic realization hit him. He was attracted to her; he was a married man, who was attracted to a woman that was not his wife and he had nearly acted upon his desire. He had thought about cheating on his wife, something he swore he would never ever do to Sharpay or anyone.

"Gloria!" Gloria? Troy wondered in confusion.

"Maria/Gloria" whipped around to face her boss. Troy noted that once again her face bore an unreadable expression.

"Yes?"

"Did you get the stain off yet?"

"Almost."

"Well hurry up!" Sharpay commanded with a scowl. She strutted up to Troy and placed a perfectly manicured hand on his bare chest and playfully ran a long nail down his sculpted torso, "in the mean time babe, just wear this." She shoved a hanger with a new suit into his hands but he pushed her hands away.

"Actually, I'm kinda beat from practice. Coach's got us working harder for this season, so I'm just going to go upstairs." As he noticed his wife open her mouth in protest, he quickly said, "I heard that people are making your coatroom a um," he paused to look at "Maria/Gloria" who returned his humorous look through the mirror before he continued, smiling at the look of horror on Sharpay's face, "a 'fuck-room'"

"What?" she screeched, appalled, disgusted and outrage. She pushed the clothes into Estelle's—who had been standing timidly in the doorway—hands before storming out of the room, followed closely by the startle maid.

"Wow"

Troy turned to look at the woman who had spoken and beamed proudly. She gathered up his cleaned shirt, rinsed the towel in the sink before hanging it, and then handed Troy the shirt, holding it at arms' length. "Here's your shirt."

As he took the cloth from her, he asked the question that had been bothering him for a while, "is it Gloria or Maria or neither?"

Walking to the exit, she rolled her eyes and smirked, "neither." Then she disappeared.

Troy let his body sink against the surface behind and ran a tired hand through his neat not caring that the action ruined the neat style and left his hair looking untidy and scruffy. He wanted her, all of her. Was that wrong? Very wrong. But even so, for some reason that made him want her even more. He tried convincing himself that he was only interested in her for sex, but something in him argued against this, fairly intent on letting him know that it wasn't just sex he wanted from her but something more, something far more than he had ever desired in his short life.

Letting out a confused breath, he began a silent, thoughtful journey away from the party, away from his friends and colleagues and further away from her.

"Tay I don't know what to do!" Troy moaned into his phone hours later, "You're a girl. You're good with the mushy stuff."

Troy Bolton was quite used to hiding in his "man-cave". He did that almost every day, but hiding the bathroom of his "man-cave" was a definite first for him. Perched on the edge of the ceramic tub, he whispered harshly and desperately into the small device clutched tightly in his hands.

"I don't know how you expect me to help you Bolton. But you and I both know that this is wrong. I advise you to forget about it and move on. Besides you're never going to see her again so why freak out?"

Taylor Mckessie could be described in so many words and helpful sat proudly at the top of the list. Ever since Troy had met Taylor in college she had always (heavy emphasis on the "always") found a resolution to all his problems and not only that, but had stayed with him throughout until the problem was fully resolved; she was what you would call "motherly". Even though she was the youngest in their trio, she acted like the adult; she would constantly remind them to take their medication (if one was ill), remind them of various appointments: doctors, dentist, conferences, promotions etc.

Troy had met Taylor on his first day at Stanford after he had roamed the campus for a good hour and refusing to admit to himself he was lost and stop and ask for directions to his destination. So he continued his mindless wandering until he heard an amused voice calling him. He had continued walking, thinking that the voice was not being directed towards him, until a short, neat and giggling girl walked up to him with a soft smile.

"Are you lost?" she had asked failing to hide her amusement. Embarrassed and too full of pride, Troy had rubbed the base of his neck and muttered a strangled no, to which Taylor had laughed and replied with,

"Riiiight. This clearly explains why you've walked past me three times in less than five minutes."

Troy's eyes had bulged in shock, embarrassment and slight humor. "What? Were you checking me out?"

To which Taylor had retorted, "No I was trying to help your sorry ass, but since you don't need my help…"

"I'm sorry. I mean I do need your help…yeah I'm kinda lost…"

And they hit it off from there, becoming an inseparable pair of best friends

She always had a solution to everything, which was why Troy was currently on the phone with her, despite the fact that she was all the way in New York, busy all the way to her chin.

"I guess you're right." He breathed somewhat relieved and somewhat pained at the thought. Would he really never cross paths with her again? He hoped not, yet at the same time he hoped so. She was just so enticing, with her exotic looks, contagious laugh and unique sense of humor.

"When have I been known to be wrong Bolton?"

Troy chuckled at this as he leaned against the tiled wall and stared at the mirror opposite him. He passed a tired hand down his face and blinked several times before responding. "Never."

There was a pause on the other end of the line and Troy could tell that Taylor was thinking hard, fixing pieces together in her mind. "You sound exhausted." She finally said and Troy felt his shoulders slump; busted! "Is Sharpay harassing you again?"

"Again?"

He could almost enviosion Taylor poking her tongue out at him.

"Whatever fathead!" she joked playfully. "Crap! Sorry, but I have to go…work Ugh! I hate it but I love."

Troy smiled at his exasperated friend. "Okay. Don't over-work yourself. Love you."

"Yes 'mom'. And you need to get some rest. Call me if you need anything okay?"

"Will do, Tay." Troy said teasingly.

"Good. Bye! Love you."

"You too."

A/N: Please review. Constructive criticism is well appreciated.