Lost Without You: Book 2 in the Chasing Olivia Series

by Jillian Anselmi

  Upon entering the hall, we proceed through a long corridor which empties into a tremendous room. There are raised boxes along both sides of the wall with rows of seats. Where chairs would have been is now a series of tables set with fine china and crystal. The tables alternate from long and rectangular to small and round. The rectangular tables are dressed in all white with silver accents; the round tables are bright red with gold floral accents. The stemware on each table repeat the color scheme.

  Chase escorts me to one of the round tables smack in the center of the room, sandwiched in between two rectangular ones. It’s relatively small for a dinner table, surrounded with six red and gold chairs.

  “How did you know where we were sitting?”

  “It’s the same table every year. Since my brother and I both went to Harvard, my father has made several contributions to the arts here. We’ve attended this gala for quite a few years. There are different levels of donation and we chose to purchase a table. It’s the same table every year.”

  “So, you come every year?”

  “No, not every year. My father will give tickets to friends if they’re going to be in the area, or we’ll donate them.”

  “Wow, that’s nice of you.”

  “Why don’t you take a seat? I’ll go get us a bottle of wine.” With that, he turns and strolls toward the bar area. Taking a seat, I have a perfect view of the stage. A few minutes later, Chase returns with a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc. Pouring us both a glass, he sits next to me. “This is such a beautiful building,” I murmur.

  “They say this is one of the best sounding classical concert venues in the world. I took an elective in architecture and learned the side balconies are very shallow to avoid trapping or muffling sound, and the coffered ceiling and statue-filled niches along three sides help provide excellent acoustics to essentially every seat.”

  “Wow, you are just a plethora of useless information,” I giggle.

  “It was an interesting class, but yeah, I’ve never needed to know that until now.”

  Everyone takes their seat as the cocktail portion of the evening is over. While waiters scurry around taking dinner orders, a single violin starts to play on stage. The melody is familiar, but I can’t place it.

  “It’s Bach. Partita No. 2,” he answers my unspoken question.

  “How did you know I was wondering what was playing?

  “Your eyebrows crease when you’re thinking, and you tilt your head slightly to the left,” he says, caressing my hand. “I think it’s adorable.”

  “Glad to know I have a tell.”

  “Oh, sweetheart, you have quite a few.”

  “I do?”

  “Don’t panic,” he teases.

  “So, what else do I give away?” I ask.

  “Nope, not telling,” he answers, a devilish smile playing on his lips. “I’ll keep them in my back pocket for leverage.”

  “Leverage against what?”

  “Oh, you know. Just in case.”

  “Fine,” I sulk.

  The lone violinist leaves the stage and an older gentleman in a tux asks for our attention. “Good evening, ladies and gentleman. Thank you for coming to the twenty-fifth annual Boston Symphony Orchestra Gala.” Everyone applauds and he waits for the noise to settle before continuing. “Tonight, we celebrate the musical genius of Johann Sebastian Bach,” he says, and everyone claps again. “Please, enjoy the sounds of the Boston Symphony Orchestra as we play some of our favorites.”

  When he finishes speaking, the orchestra takes the stage. As they tune up, Chase turns to me. “Have you ever attended a symphony before?”

  “No, this is my first.”

  “What do you think so far?”

  “I think it’s lovely. A bit much, but I wouldn’t expect anything less from you.”

  “Wait until you hear the sounds, nothing compares to listening to the symphony live.” As he finishes his sentence, the orchestra begins to play. On a screen behind them, the names of the pieces they’ll play are listed.

  They start with Brandenburg Concerto No. 3, Allegro. Chase was right, listening live is a totally different experience. It’s like the music is surrounding me, entrancing me. Closing my eyes, I let the soothing sounds carry me away. As I concentrate on the chords, I hear a soft chuckle.

  Opening my eyes, I see Chase watching me. “What?” I ask.

  “You. You amaze me,” he breathes.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Watching you, it’s like I’m experiencing things for the first time, too. I love the way you immerse yourself in everything you do.” Tucking a stray hair behind my ear, he whispers, “There’s nothing you do that I don’t love. I am head over heels in love with you.” His fingers caress my cheek, trailing down to my chin.

  I know he’s said he loves me before, but this feels different. It’s like he’s professing his love, forever. Fuck, I wish I could say it back. I want to, it’s just . . . something’s holding me back. Fucking Evan.

  Not wanting to hurt his ego, I turn and kiss him on the cheek. Staring into his gorgeous blue eyes, the only thing I can think to do is thank him. “Thank you, for everything you do for me.”

  “There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for you.”

  “Still, you’re deserving of a thank you once in a while.”

  “If it makes you happy.” Placing his arm on the back of my chair, his fingers stroke my naked back, causing goose bumps to appear.

  We sit in silence, listening to the program until they break for dinner. As we eat, a woman comes on stage and discusses raffle and fifty-fifty tickets that will be available for purchase after dinner. Some of the prizes are a weekend getaway here in Boston, a trip for two to Las Vegas, a moonlight cruise to nowhere, and some other random prizes. She then goes into the history of the hall and the orchestra.

  As we finish eating, volunteers come around with the raffle tickets. “Which do you want?” Chase asks.

  “Oh, neither. I’m fine.”

  “Fine, I’ll get a few for me then.”

  After the volunteers finish scurrying around the hall, the orchestra takes the stage and warms up. Chase orders two espressos and Sambucas from the waiter and the conductor takes the stage.

  “Good evening, ladies and gentleman. I hope you’ve been enjoying our Best of Bach evening. Now is the part of the program where we encourage everyone to get up and dance. We have chosen some of our favorite waltzes, so please, enjoy.”

  He turns his attention to the orchestra and they begin to play. Chase grabs my hand and tugs. I do my best to stay seated, but I know I’ll lose this battle.

  “Dance with me,” he purrs.

  “I can’t waltz.”

  “It’s easy. Just follow my lead.” Standing, he nudges me up again and leads me to the dance floor, which is crowded with other couples. Placing his left hand in my right, he takes my left hand, places it around his neck, and snakes his other arm around my waist. We begin to move and I look down, trying not to step on his feet.

  “This is called the Cinderella Waltz,” he breathes in my ear.

  “Well, you are my Prince Charming,” I giggle.

  “I’m far from that.”

  I follow his lead as he glides effortlessly across the dance floor. Swaying with the music, we dance like we’ve done this a thousand times before. He’s totally focused on his footwork, and making sure I’m steady with my movements.

  “See?” he whispers. “You can dance.”

  “You make it easy to follow you.”

  We dance through the evening, Chase spinning and twirling me around the floor.

  The orchestra plays their final song and everyone stands to applaud. Then, the raffle woman comes back on stage to announce the winning raffle ticket numbers. Chase wins the trip to Las Vegas, of course. A four day stay in the Bellagio, any time he wants.

  With the festivities coming to an end, we all stand and head for the exit. I lean against Chase as we walk toward the car. “You okay?”
he asks.

  “I’m fine. My feet aren’t used to heels. Once I take my shoes off, I’ll be good as new.”

  “Do you want me to carry you?”

  “No, don’t be silly. I’m fine.” Once seated, I can’t take my heels off fast enough, though I know I shouldn’t since there’s no way I’m getting them back on.

  As I grasp for the second shoe, Chase chuckles. “Fine, huh?”

  “Okay, so I might not have been completely truthful, but there was no way I was letting you carry me out of there.”

  “Well, you’re not stopping me from carrying you onto the plane.”

  “I’m great now, shoes are off.” Chase grabs my feet and swings them up on his lap. He massages the balls of my feet, taking special care of my instep.

  “No arguments. Look how swollen and red they are. I wish you would have said something sooner.”

  “I was fine, until I wasn’t.” The look on his face tells me he doesn’t quite believe me. “No, really. They were fine . . . until we stopped dancing.”

  We pull up in front of Chase’s private plane. I try to open my door, but Chase growls, “Don’t move.”

  Coming around from the other side of the car, he opens my door and scoops me up. It’s a good thing I’m holding on to my shoes, or they would have been forgotten. “This really isn’t necessary,” I object. The look on his face tells me he’s not to be trifled with.

  “You are not walking, end of discussion.”

  “Fine.” Our driver rushes out ahead of us with our bags and Chase follows behind him, carrying me up the stairs and onto the awaiting plane. Refusing to let me down even then, he waits until the hatches have all been closed. “I feel like some damsel in distress. It’s disturbing. Will you put me down now?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Put. Me. Down.”

  “You are one stubborn woman,” he sighs, putting me down.

  “Thank you.”

  “Your welcome.”

  “It’s late, I’m going to freshen up before we take off.”

  “Olivia, wait.”

  “What?” I’m still annoyed, even though I’m not sure I should be.

  “Nothing.”

  “Okay.” Once inside the bathroom, I quickly go through my nightly routine and change into something slightly more flight appropriate.

  Walking into the main part of the cabin, I find him sitting on the couch staring out the small window. He’s still in his tux, only the bowtie is untied and disheveled, and the two top buttons are undone.

  “I’m sorry,” I mutter. He doesn’t answer me, just keeps staring out the window. I sit down next to him, buckle myself in, and lean my head on his shoulder. “You okay?”

  “No,” he mumbles.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Sighing, he turns to look at me. “I don’t want to go to Italy without you. I keep getting this strange feeling that something bad is going to happen. Please, come with me.” His deep blue eyes search mine for the answer he wants, but we’ve been through this.

  “I told you, I can’t,” I say, gently caressing his cheek. “Nothing is going to happen to me. I’m a big girl.”

  “I just can’t shake this feeling. I really want to cancel.”

  “No, you’re not. I will not be responsible for effecting your work.” Placing a soft kiss on his lips, I add, “And, the sooner you go, the sooner you’ll be back.”

  “Promise me you’ll stay safe, go right from work straight home?”

  “Yes, of course. Other than stopping by my mother’s, I’m going to become a hermit in my apartment. Does that make you feel better?”

  “Not really, but it’s a start.” He pulls me into a tight embrace and kisses the top of my head. “I love you more than you know, and would be totally lost without you. Please, be careful.”

  “I promise, I will.”

  We spend the last few days before Chase leaves holed up in his apartment. He cooks anything I ask and watches all of my favorite movies. It’s moments like these when I’m reminded how special he truly is, and how lucky I am.

  He’s dotes on me hand and foot. And when we aren’t eating or watching television, we make love for hours. Now, the day is finally here. Chase is leaving for Italy in less than two hours and he’s finally finished packing.

  The doorbell rings and Chase appears from his bedroom with two suitcases. He opens the door to his driver, hands over his bags, and says, “I’ll be down in a few minutes.”

  Turning to me, he runs his hands through his hair. I know that look; he’s got something running through his mind. “What?” I ask.

  “We still have time. It’s not like you need a plane ticket, and I can always buy you clothes once we get to Italy.” He looks so adorably pathetic. I smile and shake my head. Chase’s lips quirk up into a smile. “Had to ask.”

  “I know.”

  Pulling me into an embrace, he whispers, “I’ll be back as quickly as I can.”

  “You better.” Cupping my face, he covers my lips with his—a passionate, greedy kiss meant to keep me satisfied for the time he’ll be gone. I kiss him back with ardor, grasping the back of his head.

  He growls low in his throat, eventually releasing me. “If I don’t leave now, I’m not sure I’ll be able to,” he says, panting.

  “I’ll miss you,” I say, a tear running down my face.

  Taking his index finger, Chase wipes away the stray tear. “Just remember how much I love you.” He leans down and kisses the top of my head. “I’ll call you when I land.” With one last embrace, he opens the door, and he’s gone.

  Two days after Chase leaves, I’m miserable. I didn’t know how much his leaving would affect me. I know I told him I would barricade myself in my apartment, but I need a distraction. Brenda would be the perfect form of entertainment.

  Her work schedule hasn’t changed much, and I know on Monday’s she opens. I plan on surprising her after work, and seeing if I can convince her to go out for a drink.

  I stroll into the restaurant and sit at the bar. I look around the room and spot some of Evan’s friends sitting at a table along the far side of the restaurant.

  Ordering an Amstel, I continue to scan the restaurant. Finally, Brenda appears from the kitchen. She sees me and smiles. “Holy shit, the prodigal daughter returns!”

  “Isn’t that supposed to be son?” I ask as she squeezes the life out of me.

  “It is, but I’m improvising,” she says, releasing me. “So, why are you slumming in my neck of the woods? They don’t serve Amstels in the city?”

  “Chase is in Italy, so I wanted to see if you were free.”

  “Ah, yes. Mr. Sex-on-legs left for Italy. And what happened to Saturday night?”

  “I’m sorry. I suck at life. I was exhausted and fell asleep before eight.”

  She looks at me for a minute, her lips twitching to the side. “Why do I feel like you’re just here because he’s not?”

  “Bren, it’s not like that. It’s been crazy these past few months. I’m sorry I haven’t been around.”

  Her glare softens a bit. “We haven’t spoken in days, and before that weeks. What gives?”

  “Yeah, I’ve been kinda busy.” Shrugging my shoulders, she gets the hint.

  “Uh-huh. I can let it slide this one time, just don’t let it happen again,” she says, shoving me. “So, what do you want to do?”

  “I don’t know. We didn’t leave Chase’s apartment all weekend, so something involving people and alcohol.”

  “All weekend?” she asks, smiling.

  “Yup,” I giggle.

  “That’s impressive,” she laughs back. Pulling out her phone, she types something into Google. “It’s Monday night, not much going on around here. Let me see what I can find.” She sits down next to me, continuing her search.

  “It doesn’t have to be special, anything will do. I’m just happy I get to spend some quality time with you.”

  “Stop it,” she laughs. “You don’t need to try
to con me into anything, I’m along for the ride.”

  “I know.”

  “Ooh, this sounds good.” Brenda slides her phone across the bar, showing me the website for The Tap Room, a local place in Patchogue. They have half price appetizers and beer, along with live music.

  “That is just what I need.”

  “Good. I get off in about an hour. What time do you turn into a pumpkin?”

  “I’m working local tomorrow. I called my mom and told her I’m crashing there tonight.”

  “Good. Let me go finish up.” She stands and turns to the new girl behind the bar. “Bree, give my friend whatever she wants. Oh, and don’t give her a tab. Ring it on the buyback check.” Bree nods her head and goes back to cleaning.

  Just as Brenda disappears into the kitchen, my phone pings.

  Chase: Hey, beautiful. I miss you.

  I text him back immediately.

  Liv: I miss you, too! Shouldn’t you be sleeping? What time is it there?

  Chase: It’s just before midnight.

  Liv: Go to bed! I don’t want to get blamed for you napping on the conference table tomorrow ☺

  Chase: I couldn’t go to sleep without saying goodnight. Where are you?

  Liv: Having a drink at Anthony’s. I’m working in Suffolk tomorrow, so I’m staying at mom’s.

  Chase: Say hi to Brenda for me—at least I know you’re in capable hands.

  Liv: Okay! Going out for a quick bite, then heading to mom’s.

  Chase: Just remember I love you <3 Goodnight.

  Liv: Goodnight!

  I finish my beer and signal for another. Before Bree gets a chance to open it, I look at the tap handles. Shit, they finally have pumpkin beer on tap. All the years I worked for Anthony, he never ordered it. Now that I don’t work for him anymore, he has it on tap. Sonofabitch. “Bree, can I have the Blue Point Pumpkin instead, with a cinnamon rim?” She nods as she picks up a pint glass.

  As she puts the glass in front of me, I ask her, “So, how long have you worked here?”

  “A few weeks,” she answers, then turns to the other side of the bar.

  I’m about halfway through my pint when Brenda finally comes back out, ready to go. I quickly finish my beer, leave a tip on the bar, and follow her out. Once we clear the doors, I ask, “Bren, what’s with the mute behind the bar?”