Life is what you make it, and I plan to make mine memorable.
Sleep has never come easy for me. Not with my stressful day job and then leading a double life as my rock star persona, Chaser—free time is a rarity.
After Mom had died, I had a lot of trouble sleeping, and it has continued over the years. I find myself too paranoid to spend the night with Ivy, so that doesn’t help my lack of sleep. I was concerned I might have one of my reoccurring nightmares.
They are a lot less frequent than they used to be, thank God for that, but they are draining, and I don’t want to have to explain them to her, not just yet.
It’s always the same dream. I’m dragging my mom out of the house; she’s unconscious and the flames are engulfing us. “Mom, wake up! Please wake up!” I scream at her, but she doesn’t respond.
I was at school when the fire started, and Father was nowhere to be found until that night, saying that he was at the local hotel. His story checked out with the police, and the owner of the hotel confirmed it.
I’m still skeptical.
I frantically ran toward my house when I saw the flames. “Mom, Mom!” I scream in a panic. The front door was engulfed in flames, so I smash the side window where there are no flames and climb inside.
“Mom, where are you?” I shout through the smoke. It fills my lungs, robbing me of precious oxygen and makes me cough.
Quickly searching each room, I finally found her unconscious in her bedroom. The room is filled with thick smoke. I take a deep breath and drag her out as quickly as I can.
I am thankful that my neighbour, Frank, is at the window. He lifts her out and then I climb out myself.
“I called 911, Chase. The fire department and an ambulance is on its way,” I hear Frank’s wife, Betty say.
I turn my mother on her side. I saw that on a medical show before; it opens the airways, right? I squeeze her hand wishing she would wake up, take a breath, anything.
I hear the sirens, thank God.
But she never took that breath. The paramedics tried for twenty minutes to revive her, but it was no use. She was already gone.
My beautiful mother who meant the world to me was now an angel. The smoke filled her lungs and cut off her oxygen. I hope to God she didn’t suffer too badly. She didn’t deserve to die like that.
I can still see her sweet face. She was very pretty. I actually look similar to her with my brown hair and sky blue eyes, and I am grateful for that fact. Every day, I look in the mirror and see her eyes looking back at me. It feels like it was her gift to me.
I am in a daze as I think back to my past. There was something else I just couldn’t put my finger on.
Father hadn’t been out of the house in weeks, and yet when this happened, he was conveniently at the local hotel?
I really tried not to focus on the negatives. It started to turn me bitter and hateful, so instead, I remember the good times and the love she gave to me.
My happiest memories were of my mom happily cooking in the kitchen, the aroma of chicken soup, with her favorite floral apron on. She always wore it when she was cooking. When my father returned from work, he would engulf her in his loving embrace and nuzzle into her neck.
He smelled of fresh pine, from the lumberyard he worked at before creating Hudson Industries. His skin was olive and tanned from the sun, his laughter was deep and echoing, and it had a way of soothing me with its sincerity.
But then, within a few months, everything changed.
We were living paycheck to paycheck back then and trying to pay bills got to him. He lost his job and began to drink glass after glass of scotch; he would watch old westerns until he became bored, then he would pick a fight.
The alcohol changed him—it fueled his anger. Like wood on an open fire, it would burn and sizzle and heighten. He would scream insults at my mother—call her lazy, demand his dinner, and tell her ‘she was good for nothing.’
It became so messed up at home that Mom and I would avoid going home too early after school. We tried to give him space, but that just gave him more time to drink.
They said that it looked like the fire was an accident and that a tea towel had caught fire on the stove. Mother was trapped in her bedroom, which is where I found her when I broke the window to enter.
Why does part of me feel like the fire wasn’t an accident?
My suspicions could be why I despise my father more than I really should. Well, that and he’s a pompous, rich asshole who no longer has respect for anyone or anything.
Luck was what it came down to for him. He was lucky that his uncle cared enough to sober him up. He was lucky Granddad left him his inheritance and that he bought stocks when he did or the money wouldn’t have amounted to anything more.
I just don’t know what to make of it all, even after all this time.
But beautiful Ivy, my vixen, is the best distraction of all. I don’t feel any of my old pain when I am with her. She is like a shot of morphine—she takes away any pain and replaces it with ecstasy and pleasure.
~~~~
When I drudge up the past, I always feel weighted and heavy. I need to clear my mind…
The band has wanted me to record some new music, so I figure what better way to clear away the fogginess.
Studio time is what I need…
I have been writing most of my life, but the words have changed since Ivy came into the picture. There is some light in the lyrics—it’s not all deep and dark.
I titled my new song “Words Unspoken.”
You are my inspiration
You are the magic in my life
My true salvation
Your beauty is undefined
You are a classic work of art
Until you came along I was blind
You have won my heart
With words unspoken we can make it through
With words unspoken it’s just me and you
Always and forever
This is my promise to you
With words unspoken
I don’t want anyone else but you
We have broken tradition
Love and devotion will get us through
You are now my life’s mission
It’s us against the rest
Together we can do anything
Together we can conquer
Love is more than a feeling
With words unspoken we can make it through
With words unspoken it is just me and you
Always and forever
This is my promise to you
With words unspoken
Definitely more of a rock ballad. I won’t be starting any mosh pits with this song…
I’m on top of the world right now. Chase and I have been together for four glorious months. The plan was to keep it casual with mind-blowing sex. I thought we could have some fun without complication, but it’s turned into so much more.
We went from seeing each other twice a week, to four times a week, and this past week was five days. He calls me frequently and texts me every chance he gets but not in a controlling way. He even sent me a bouquet of mixed flowers yesterday. That man has a way of taking me by surprise and keeping me on my toes.
We haven’t gone into details but I am sure he has slept with more women than I’ve met in my life. My number is six—there were two before Leon and three more after him.
I’m nothing special, I didn’t think I would be his type or vice versa. Well yeah, I am different, kind of sexy, fun but quirky, unique but definitely not one to wear formal dresses and stiletto heels all the time. I am your typical boots and jeans type of girl.
Maybe Chase wants a boots and jeans kind of girl. In the words of P!nk, “Can’t taste the same shit every day.”
Chase’s style is expensive. His suits and shirts all match to perfection. He takes pride in how he looks and people respect him for that. He also knows how to dress like a man—he is masculine and sexy and knows what suits him.
The fir
st time I walked into Chase’s apartment, I realized just how acquired his tastes really were.
He has the top-floor penthouse apartment in his building. Huge is an understatement. It has its own private elevator entrance, high ceilings, formal living room, open fireplaces, and a Jacuzzi in the master bathroom. To top it off, both balconies and terraces have the most amazing view.
Each room has large oversized windows to enhance the breathtaking sight. It has five monstrous bedrooms plus a game and billiards room. My favorite part of his apartment is the private rooftop deck with a dining, sunbathing, and exercise area.
Being a part of this world again stirs up a lot of memories. My ex, Leon, was your typical wealthy bachelor when we met. He even had a little black book, but he told me that I had reformed him and that he was a one-woman man now. Stupidly, I believed him.
It took me a long time to feel normal again after Leon had cheated on me. The woman was a mutual friend, and it cut deep like a knife in my chest.
I had a lot of built up anger that I had to deal with.
I still remember the day I found them. I felt shaky like a leaf on a winter’s day; my blood was boiling and my jaw clenched. I felt an anxiety attack coming on as my breath hitched, and my pulse raced as my heart broke.
Why does adult life need to be so complicated?
As a child, it was about playing innocently with toys, making dolls look pretty with new dresses, hairstyles, and a fancy car.
Life was simple back then.
I didn’t have much support or a cheer squad growing up. But I will be a cheerleader for Chase. I’ll support him and encourage him. I will be there whenever he needs me.
“You have been absent a lot lately, Chase. I know you are physically in the office, but where is your mind?” my arrogant father questions me after he called me in for a ‘chat.’ “You’re letting down Hudson Industries. I have heard rumors about a woman you are seeing. Is this true, Chase? I’ve told you before that women are nothing but a distraction. I thought you had your eye on the prize?” he remarks fuel the anger burning inside.
How dare he assume Ivy is nothing but a distraction?
“Maybe I should start training Christopher to be the director?” he threatens with his harassing tone. I despise this man, but an angry Charles’s Hudson is not someone you want to mess with.
“You will do no such thing. I will take care of it,” I state to him to get him off my back and to ditch the ridiculous idea about Christopher. Good luck to them both if he promoted Christopher; I am sure the outcome would be disastrous.
“What about this woman? Is it serious?” Any other father and son conversation would be smooth and relaxed, but he always has an ulterior motive, so I lie.
“No, she is nothing serious. Just a bit of fun.” I stand and excuse myself.
I head to my office to call clients and gain some more business to get the old man off my back. Before I get too wrapped up in making calls, I send Ivy a text.
Looking forward to seeing you this evening in nothing but your heels, my vixen. - C
I have a red pair of heels that I have been saving for a special occasion. I will be at your place in nothing but them at seven. Don’t be late or I’ll have to start without you. – I
I know the last asshole who Ivy dated broke her trust and she wants to take things with us slowly. Being exclusive in a relationship is a learning curve for me. It has always been a rule of mine not to sleep with the same woman more than a few times.
Ivy set ground rules to keep us casual. One of them being that we only see each other twice a week.
That particular rule has been broken multiple times. She is my addiction. I don’t want to be without her. My hunger for her grows by the hour.
One obstacle that I keep coming across with her is that she is extremely independent and not receptive to expensive dinners, costly clothes, or extravagant gifts.
I want to spoil her, and I believe I should be given that right.
Why must Ivy challenge me?
Sure, life would be easier if I found another more suitable woman.
Why do I want her?
She is the most stubborn, independent, sarcastic, honest, and outspoken woman I have ever met. But I crave her more than I need my next breath.
Craving Ivy is something I am struggling to control. I want to be with her, and my need is taking over every inch of me. Every thought I have is of her, and every time I climb into bed, I want to be next to her.
This is all very new to me…
“Are you a hockey fan by any chance, Ivy?” Chase asks me, and I’m surprised at his question. I am still on cloud nine from the sexcapades we just had, wearing nothing but my brand new red heels…
“Yeah, sure, I have been to a few games,” I reply remembering a blind date I went on. The date was a complete waste of time. I saw the hostile side to the guy when he was screaming at the ref constantly.
“Well, I have two tickets for Thursday night’s game and then I thought I would make dinner reservations at Dominique’s, a new restaurant uptown,” he states warmly to me.
“I thought we could go out earlier in the week because I have an important work dinner on Saturday night so I won’t be able to see you,” he informs me. Then adds, “I promise you can come to the next one, but this is directors only.”
I’m not sure why he thought had to explain himself.
“I don’t mind you going without me Chase, honestly,” I respond to him smiling.
“So, what is the dress code for Thursday then? Should I dress in something nice under my warm coat?” I ask Chase a little nervous since he is always immaculate and dressed to kill.
What the hell am I going to wear that is both elegant but warm for the hockey.
“Sounds perfect. Dominque’s is pretty upscale, but I know you will look beautiful no matter what you wear,” he confesses to me as he pushes the loose hair tendrils behind my ear.
~~~~
It’s Thursday and Chase picks me up for the hockey game.
The New Jersey Devils are playing the New York Rangers, quite an entertaining game.
The atmosphere is infectious, the crowd cheers, and the slam of the hockey sticks gets my heart racing.
I decided on my knee-length black dress, with my hair down, and my fawn colored coat with boots. It really was hard trying to look classy and yet stay warm for the game.
At half time, I watch the sweet couples on the large screen kiss for the cameras.
Chase is a big hockey fan, and it turns out that Hudson Industries is a substantial sponsor. I notice the banners and posters on the rink, then of course a plug from the commentators.
“We are honored to have Mr. Chase Hudson here tonight. Let’s give him a cheer,” they announce.
Then, all of a sudden, I see myself on the goddamn big screen with Chase. They had no problem finding him in the crowd.
Oh my God…
“Kiss, kiss, kiss,” the crowd chants in unison as Chase finally realizes we are on the large screen.
We look at the screen and then into each other’s eyes, both of us now laughing because we haven’t really publicized that we are a couple.
But obviously the crowd is always right, so Chase gazes into my eyes and smirks. Then he puts his hands in my hair and his lips find mine. He doesn’t hold back as he kisses me deep and passionately as the crowd applauds and cheers.
Well damn, now the whole world will know that we are exclusive. That makes me happy and yet a little scared.
When the camera has stopped filming our kiss and the crowd settles, I pull back and shake my head.
“You do realize that my parents, your father, and the rest of America know about us, right?
“Of course. I want the world to know you are mine, Ivy. What better way to show them?” he replies smirking as if he had it planned.
Mischievous bastard. I bet it was his plan all along.
~~~~
Dominique’s is a truly stunning restaura
nt. The décor is very modern and classy and by far the best restaurant I have ever eaten at.
The chef, Enrico, came out to greet us when he knew he was cooking for the Chase Hudson.
“Welcome to Dominique’s, Mr. Hudson and Miss Maisen. It is a pleasure to have you in my restaurant,” he announces with his French accent and kisses my hand.
“I will send out a bottle of our finest red wine for you both on the house,” he adds. Chase nods and smiles in appreciation.
“Perfect, thank you,” Chase replies to his kindness.
After studying the menu, I decide on the strozzapreti, which is jumbo lump crab, sea urchin, and basil served with fettuccine. My mouth is watering just thinking about it, and I’m glad I still eat seafood.
Chase chooses the pan roasted filet mignon, with mushrooms and mole sauce.
We share some amazing appetizers of zeppole, which is fresh scungilli, prosciutto, calabrian chili, and lemon. I must Google this recipe, just amazing.
At the chef’s suggestion, we order the polipo. It's grilled octopus, smoked potatoes, radish, pickled red onions, chilies, and tomatoes. I thought it was a little salty for my liking, but I’d still rate it four stars.
A violinist comes to play for us by candlelight; it is super romantic as we indulge in our magnificent banquet.
“How were your meals?” Enrico questions as he arrives at our table.
“Honestly, everything was fantastic. Best meal I have had in a long time,” I state. I love to give praise where it’s due. I have also decided to go online and post my review on their website.
“Yes, I agree. All of the food was superb and cooked to perfection,” Chase concurs, and yet he sounds so much more elegant when he says it.
“I am so very pleased to hear that. Dessert will be out shortly,” he announces. I look at Chase questioningly—I know we didn’t order dessert.
“I’ve read sensational reviews about their dessert so I’ve organized a tasting plate for us to try the best ones,” he clarifies, and that has me excited to see what Enrico will create.
“Well, good thing I love dessert. I’m not so sure about my hips,” I joke and wink at Chase.
Tainted Deception Page 11
