Those words needed time to sink in. So, Victor’s intuition had been right.
“I have a confession, Chaz.” He looked at her curiously but didn’t speak. “Two weeks ago, when we were in Cleveland, you asked what was wrong and I didn’t give you a complete answer. I told you about how I felt out of sync with Karen’s and Victor’s gifts. Well, they were saying I should move to Cincinnati and I wasn’t sure that either of us was ready. It wasn’t something you and I had talked about. And since my dreams stopped, I didn’t have any way of knowing whether that was what you wanted. But, even if I never have another dream, I have faith in you. If you’re sure this is right, I’ll move.”
Relief replaced the anxiety on Chaz’s face.
“I’m sure, sweetheart.”
“Then, I’ll start looking for a job next week. And you can start figuring out where to put all of my stuff.” She gave a slight smile.
“It’s a deal.” His hands cupped her face and he kissed her over and over until they both laughed.
“Come with me.” He led her into the kitchen where a pitcher of mojitos waited on the counter. Chaz reached for a glass, filled it with ice from the dispenser in the refrigerator, and poured a generous amount of the drink. He kissed Stephanie when he handed her the glass.
“I know you’re probably hungry, but stay here until I finish getting everything set up.” He disappeared into the dining room.
She smiled as the scent of spicy chili drifted from a pot and she noticed the casserole dish with carnitas—pork that had been marinated, slow-roasted, and shredded. A platter of flour tortillas, cheese, sautéed onions, and sliced jalapenos rested on the counter.
Chaz returned and filled two wide shallow bowls with chili, took them to the dining room, and returned for the other dishes. Lastly, he told Stephanie to close her eyes while he guided her toward the doorway. A moment later, from behind her, he said she could open them.
The lights had been dimmed to their lowest setting and candles were lit on the credenza. The entire room glowed golden orange. A huge vase of pink carnations and white roses sat on the far end of the table. In front of them were candles of varying sizes and heights, all lit and neatly clustered on a shiny bronze platter. Placemats and cloth napkins were set. The food arranged within easy reach.
Stephanie felt Chaz’s hands on her shoulders and felt him kiss her temple. She heard him say that he loved her, that he had wanted to make tonight special simply because she’d driven so far to come to him, and that she should have a seat before the food started getting cold. But everything happened in a haze. His thoughtfulness overwhelmed her.
He had fixed her a tortilla filled with meat and cheese and set it on her plate before she realized she was crying.
“I don’t know what to say,” she apologized as he wiped away a tear.
“You don’t have to say anything, Stephanie.”
While they ate, Chaz talked about his week and how handling the background work of ongoing investigations was more challenging, and more rewarding, than he’d anticipated. He was getting a chance to see how small undercover operations fit together to build larger cases against drug traffickers and prostitution rings. And he was a part of determining which direction and which cases would best fit the overall goals of the state and federal agencies.
“So, you don’t miss being undercover?” The question was spoken cautiously.
“No, I don’t.” He placed a hand on her knee. “What I’m doing now is definitely satisfying. And I won’t have to spend weeks or months away from you, pretending to be someone else.”
“I fell in love with the person you were pretending to be,” Stephanie pointed out.
“Not really; I kept the illegal stuff separate from the pool hall and kept you separate from all of it. You always saw the real me, Stephanie, even though that broke all of the rules.”
She sipped her drink and studied him. No, he shouldn’t have told her the truth about his childhood, or gotten emotionally attached, or told her about his role with the FBI, or persisted in trying to maintain a relationship that wasn’t supposed to have started. But he had done all of that. It pleased her.
“What will you tell people when I move in with you?” she wanted to know. His confusion was met with a quiet, “You can’t say that you were involved with me while on an assignment, can you?”
Chaz nodded his head. “It’s always easier to tell as much of the truth as possible. We’ll simply leave out the fact that you knew about me being an FBI agent while I was still undercover. Will and Sylvia already think I didn’t tell you until I was ready to leave Erie.”
They talked a little about how to transport and store Stephanie’s belongings and how much space she might need in the apartment. They spent slightly more time talking about where to start her job search. Then they put away the leftover food and went to bed.
Maybe Stephanie was tired from the drive, or maybe the pitcher of mojitos played a role, but she didn’t wake until nearly 10:00 the next morning. Chaz had gone to work for a few hours and should return around noon. Good, she sighed. She might have time to figure out the dream that had made her wake up. Almost all of it had been fuzzy, but she wanted to check the one thing she could remember clearly.
She opened the nightstand drawer on Chaz’s side of the bed. What she had expected to find wasn’t there.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Chaz talked Stephanie into setting a timetable for her relocation that wasn’t dependent upon whether she had a job in Cincinnati. He was clear about being able to take care of them and wanting to take care of her. She insisted that she wouldn’t know what to do without working. Chaz shrugged innocently when she jokingly accused him of wanting to keep her locked away so he wouldn’t have to share her with the rest of the world.
She returned to Erie, gave her boss three week’s notice, and started packing. Chaz was hiring professional movers to take her furniture to storage and would deal with everything when the truck arrived. Stephanie was packing all of her clothes and other belongings into a small U-Haul trailer and attaching it to the back of her car and would arrive the following week. Karen easily offered to help and kept her friend smiling as they scrubbed the stove and shampooed the carpet.
“Keep thinking pink,” she advised. “Friendship, family, energy: this will be a good move.”
Stephanie tried not to look sad when she asked, “Who’s going to read my auras and make special teas when I’m not feeling well?”
“Call me, Steph, and I’ll send whatever herbs you need by overnight mail. As for the readings, I think you’ve learned your ups and downs pretty well and I’m sure you’ll be observant of the people around you. You won’t need me. Of course, I can make some charts and mail them to Chaz’s place so you’ll have them—just in case.” She gave the other woman a hug and walked arm-in-arm toward the U-Haul.
Stephanie wasn’t convinced at all that she wouldn’t need Karen. Even if she could handle her psychic gifts alone, she’d miss her best friend. Karen had promised to figure out how to use the built-in camera on her laptop computer so they could also see one another. But Stephanie knew from this experience with Chaz that it wasn’t ever going to be a good enough substitute for being nearby.
“Are you sure you don’t need me to drive?” Victor double checked the hitch between the trailer and Stephanie’s car. “I could catch a flight back tomorrow.”
“Thanks.” She gave the man a huge hug. “I’ll be okay. Expect a call when I get there.” Then, she lifted her godson from his stroller and held him for a few minutes, all the while promising herself she wouldn’t cry.
Leaving was hard. She said goodbye again, got into her car, and called Chaz to let him know she was headed to the freeway.
“Be careful,” he reminded.
“I will,” she promised.
The drive took a little longer than normal because of the trailer, but Stephanie still made good time. Chaz was waiting on the front step when she pulled up. He and his fri
end, Will, immediately got busy unloading the U-Haul while Sylvia invited her new neighbor in for a cup of coffee.
“I still can’t believe Chaz is giving up the single life,” the woman commented. She handed Stephanie a steaming cup. “We all wanted him to, but you were a surprise. We’re going to need a little while to get used to seeing you with him.”
Stephanie wasn’t sure how to interpret that. She thought of how Karen would have immediately jumped into the conversation to steer Stephanie in the right direction.
Sylvia went on to talk about how their close-knit FBI group was no different from any other law enforcement family and how they did a lot together. She told Stephanie about tailgating parties and football games in the fall, baseball and picnics in the summer, and lots of holiday celebrations. In fact, she usually had a big Thanksgiving dinner at her parents’ home that Chaz attended whenever he wasn’t on an assignment.
“I know it seems a long way away, but we always plan early. If you don’t have your own traditions, you’re welcome to join ours.”
“Thank you.” Stephanie didn’t say that her tradition was to either visit her parents or have dinner with Karen and Victor. She and Chaz hadn’t discussed it, but she wanted to be at her godson’s first Thanksgiving.
“So, do you plan on getting married and starting a family right away?” Sylvia was quite comfortable with asking such a personal question.
“I don’t know,” was an honest answer. The abrupt change in the conversation caught Stephanie off guard. The other woman looked confused for a split second before turning away.
“I made chicken noodle soup,” she said with her back to Stephanie and the lid to the pot in one hand. As she reached for a ladle to stir with, she explained that she’d also made turkey sandwiches and assumed everyone would be hungry by the time the men finished unloading and returning the U-Haul. Chaz had been so eager for Stephanie to arrive that he probably hadn’t eaten anything all day, she said.
That bit of news made Stephanie smile. She didn’t miss Sylvia’s sour reaction.
Sylvia turned the conversation to something that should have been a safe topic: careers. She seemed mildly interested in Stephanie’s job as an investments advisor, said she had always liked the structure and predictability of working with numbers. Mathematics was straightforward, quantifiable. Stephanie didn’t counter that the appeal for her was more in trying to capture the unpredictability of the financial markets, that she liked the ever-changing nature of investments. Instead, she listened to the other woman explain that structure was why police work appealed to her, how laws were meant to be honored, and how being a field agent had allowed her to analyze and react within predictable guidelines. She said that was something she had in common with Will and Chaz—enforcing the rules was important. Of course, that brought the conversation full swing to Chaz’s relationship with Stephanie.
“I’ve known Chaz for about six years and I’ve never seen him so serious about anyone.” Stephanie was certain that the relationship somehow violated Sylvia’s rules. “He’s a close friend and a good man, and you’re very lucky.”
“I don’t need to be reminded.” Stephanie didn’t mean to be rude but Sylvia’s tone ruffled her. She couldn’t stop herself from asking whether there was a point behind the other woman’s comment.
“Of course there is.” Sylvia turned to face her. “Agents are very protective of one another. Whether on the job or in our personal lives, we face all sorts of dangers. He’s in love and we don’t want him to get hurt.”
Stephanie set the coffee mug on the counter. Did Sylvia really mean that she didn’t want him to get hurt? Stephanie’s instincts didn’t need to scream any louder.
“Maybe Chaz hasn’t had other serious relationships because your law enforcement family is too protective to give an outsider a fair chance.” She thought of Karen and Victor. “I have friends who love me, too, and they think Chaz is just as lucky to have me. The difference between you and them is that they have never assumed he’ll hurt me.”
“I guess your friends don’t see some of the bad things cops see.”
Those words made Stephanie smile: maybe Karen had been right in telling Stephanie that she would eventually be able to sense (and possibly see) auras. She could definitely sense a whole lot about the colors of this woman. Possessiveness. Determination. Inflexibility. What colors would those be?
“You’d be surprised at what my friends see. But my friends aren’t the point. I guess you’ll just have to figure out a way to trust Chaz’s judgment. I’d really hate for you to damage your six-year friendship.”
“That’s not going to happen,” she smirked.
“Are you sure?” Stephanie returned the stare, minus the insolence. Apparently, Sylvia had no idea that Chaz loved Stephanie enough to risk his career. He obviously hadn’t told her that he’d been willing to risk his life by returning to Erie to keep from losing her. She wondered whether her confidence in the strength of their relationship was evident in her expression.
They both heard the door open at the same time, but Sylvia refused to back down.
“It smells good in here,” Chaz was saying as he came up behind Stephanie, wrapped his arms around her shoulders, and kissed her neck. “Chicken soup and old fashioned intimidation.” He laughed before locking eyes with his good friend while speaking to her husband. “Hey, Will, you should tell your wife to stop trying to run off my girlfriend. I have no intentions of letting Stephanie go anywhere.”
“Stop it, Syl.” The light-hearted words made Stephanie sense that Will was not surprised by his wife’s behavior, and that confused her. He’d been very friendly toward her on her previous visits. She’d thought that he’d like her, but maybe she was wrong. He stepped into the kitchen and kissed his wife’s cheek before washing his hands. “I’m hungry.”
Stephanie watched Sylvia move to the refrigerator while her husband started dishing up bowls of the homemade soup. Chaz moved to a door at the opposite end of the room and she could hear water running before he stepped back into the kitchen with a wet paper towel that he shot toward the trash can. In a moment, the couples were seated on opposite sides of the breakfast counter with a plate of sandwiches on whole wheat buns between them. The men talked about football and Stephanie added an occasional comment while Sylvia remained sullen.
Sounds reached them through the baby monitor mounted on the wall and she made her exit toward the upstairs bedrooms.
“I think Stephanie will be pretty good with kids,” Chaz commented when a sleepy three-year-old emerged and climbed onto his father’s lap. “She has a godson who is crazy about her.”
“How old?” Sylvia asked.
“Almost six months.”
“That doesn’t count, does it? Babies like almost everyone.”
Will turned to stare at his wife. “You’re going too far,” he cautioned.
“Do you really want to have this conversation again?” Chaz was asking. He set his spoon in the bowl and reached for Stephanie’s hand.
“No.” She looked at Stephanie and apologized.
“It’s been a long day,” Stephanie responded with a dismissive lift of one shoulder.
“Yeah, it has been,” Chaz agreed. “In fact, we still have a lot to do at my place. Maybe, it’s time for us to head over there.” He thanked Will for his help, thanked Sylvia for the meal, and put an arm around Stephanie as they walked toward the livingroom. They could hear Will quietly reprimanding his wife as they closed the door behind them.
“You deserve to know what’s wrong with Sylvia,” Chaz admitted as they entered his townhouse.
“Why bother? I’m not an agent or a police officer. I can’t possibly understand how danger binds all of you together, so I’m sure I won’t understand.” She kicked off her shoes and walked toward the stairs. She really was tired. “Where’s my small suitcase?”
“All of the luggage is in the guest room; the boxes are in the basement.” He stood in the doorway watching her d
ig through the case to retrieve her toiletries and a nightgown. “Sylvia’s attitude doesn’t have anything to do with being a cop,” he assured Stephanie. “She’s upset that I waited until a week ago to tell her you were moving here.”
“Why is that a problem?” She slid past him and headed for the master bedroom.
“She was hoping I’d get bored with you and go back to dating her cousin.” He paused as Stephanie stopped walking and turned to face him. “We were together for almost two years. I decided we weren’t right for each other a couple of months before I got the assignment that took me to Pennsylvania. I guess they were hoping I’d change my mind after a little time apart.”
“But, instead, you met me.”
He nodded. “Her name is Janine. She works for the FBI but she’s not an agent. Anyway, she was in love; I wasn’t. She wanted us to live together; I didn’t. She wanted me to give up undercover work; I wouldn’t.”
“But you gave it up for me.”
“That’s right. I gave it up for you.” His eyes held hers. “Sylvia will be okay after she has a while to process everything.”
“And if she isn’t?”
“No one is more important than you.”
Stephanie was silent for a long time. Chaz was giving her everything Janine had expected. Whether he had been clear about the relationship being over or not, Sylvia had made it clear that Stephanie was an outsider and would be treated as one. She walked over to Chaz, ran a finger along the edge of his jaw, and kissed him.
“I moved here because I love you. The only things I care about right now are that you love me and that you want me here.”
“You know I do.”
“Then I’m going to take a shower.”
That night, Stephanie slept well, but she also dreamed. Maybe the information about Janine had an influence on her, or that was what she told herself. It was a lie. The dream was the same one she’d had the last time she’d slept in this house, and it wasn’t much clearer than when she’d had it the first time. She had the vague feeling that whatever it was about should bother her and that, in the dream, she knew it didn’t.
Premonitions: Dream Catcher Series ~ Book 1 Page 9
