by Lisa Eugene
I blinked numbly, not sure what to say. I only knew my heart was full, bursting really. And I was unaccountably relieved there hadn’t been money in that envelope.
“Th—thank you.”
He nodded, head tilting as he came close and wrapped me in his strong arms. “Dani, I would never diminish the value of what we have. You’re very special to me—priceless.”
I swallowed hard against the lump thickening my throat, and offering a tender smile, I allowed the warmth of his words to pump through my system.
“I can’t let you go, Dani,” he whispered softly.
***
A few weeks later, I stepped out of the elevator and walked toward Chase’s office. My train had pulled in on time, and it was exactly six o’clock. I passed through the first set of thick mahogany doors and was just about to enter Chase’s office when the sound of people talking stalled my hand. I recognized Chase’s voice, and another voice belonging to his PR manager, Phil. The third voice I couldn’t place at all.
“Gonzalez is still attacking you in the press. You’re still behind in the polls, especially with the minority vote. We have to rev things up, do some more outreach,” Phil was saying.
“Yes. I agree,” The unknown voice said. “Most of the bad press with Flex-Steel has died down. I’ve seen to that, but Gonzalez’s personal attacks haven’t been helping.”
“I heard his people tried to contact Dr. Mitchell and a few others at Beth Israel.” Chase sounded worried.
“That’s true, but the doctors know better than to make a comment. I donate enough to that damn hospital to ensure their cooperation. They’ll keep things private,” The unknown voice said. “Gonzalez seems to be the only one who doesn’t respect the fact that this story is off limits.”
“Thank you, Joseph,” Chase said.
Joseph? Senator Joseph Kensington?
“Would it be so bad if the press ran this story?” Phil asked tentatively, his voice gaining momentum as he spoke. “We could do an exclusive to avoid the media frenzy . . . a human interest piece. It would be great for your campaign, Chase.”
“No!” Chase retorted sharply. “Absolutely not. I will not use this to get sympathy votes. I’ll not have my personal life turned upside down. I’m dealing with enough as it is. This campaign has to be about the issues and the changes I can effect as mayor, not me personally.”
I sucked in a quiet breath. Was Phil suggesting Chase go public with whatever was wrong with him? And was it something that would sway public opinion?
I knew Chase was burdened, and I wished there was some way I could ease his weight, but there was a part of his life he chose not to share with me. I had to respect that. Our relationship had deepened in its intimacy. We made hungry, passionate love at almost every appointment and I’d stay long hours into the night. I’d even awoken one early morning wrapped in his arms as we cuddled on his tiny office couch.
He’d asked many times to move our meetings to his apartment, but I still had a hard time with that. Although I looked forward to our time together way more than I should, I was wary about getting too close. My mother’s words still echoed in my head, and I entertained no illusions about the nature of our relationship or where it was going. One day Chase would walk out of my life, like every other man.
“Chase is right. This stays out of the press!” The other man agreed strongly, capturing my attention again. “We proceed as planned. I’m holding a campaign rally next month that should bring in more donors.”
“That would be great, and in the meantime we have to do some heavy PR. I’m meeting tomorrow with the team leaders from several districts who are coordinating the voter outreach. We need to get you in front of the camera kissing babies and shaking hands with voters,” Phil said enthusiastically.
“There’ll be plenty of time for that,” Chase interjected. “There’s something I need to handle first.”
“Joseph, tell him he’s making a mistake,” came Phil’s voice again, this time exasperated. “He listens to you.”
“I agree with Phil on this one, Chase. You’ve officially stepped down from Flex-Steel. You have other priorities now.”
“I have to do this.”
“I know how much this company means to you,” The man named Joseph said. “And family means everything to me. You’ll always have my support.”
Family? Is Chase related to Senator Kensington? Is that why the man so strongly advocates for his mayorship?
“You need to focus on the race! Gonzalez has the Latino vote locked up. This—”
“Gentleman, this meeting is over.” Phil’s protest was cut off by Chase’s resolute tone. “I have an appointment. We’ll touch base in a few days.”
Hearing the voices scatter, I tiptoed back to the receptionist desk, hoping to appear as though I’d just walked up. The first man who emerged was Phil, his gait halting with obvious surprise when he spotted me. He stopped short, head quickly swinging back to Chase’s office. I could see him putting two and two together and my cheeks heated. I hated the look he pinned me with, the one that labeled me a whore.
“Ms. Carmichael, we meet again.” His voice was light, but his gaze felt as friendly as an arctic wind.
I didn’t respond, and was thankful when he dipped his head and continued to the elevator. Blowing out a sigh, I turned around and almost collided with an older man with graying temples and a slight paunch—Senator Kensington. I recognized him from TV, and as one of the men who’d been at Chase’s side the day he’d walked out of the hospital. Now it made sense he would be a relative. The senator eyed me curiously, his gaze anything but friendly.
“Watch your step, Ms. Carmichael,” he said stiffly before resuming his path to the elevators.
His cool demeanor hadn’t bothered me. I was used to being snubbed by people like him, but hearing my name on his lips had a slither of alarm moving down my spine.
How the hell does he know who I am?
I couldn’t help feeling there’d been some double entendre in his admonition. Trying to shake off the sudden unease, I made a mental note to ask Chase if he’d mentioned me to the senator. Somehow I doubted it. Our relationship wasn’t exactly orthodox.
“Come in, Dani.” Chase appeared at the door, snapping me from my musings. I followed, listening as he spoke. “Sorry about that. My meeting ran long.”
Once behind closed doors, he pulled me into a tight embrace, sighing heavily into my hair. I felt his nose nuzzle my neck. “God, I missed you.”
Sliding my arms around his broad shoulders, I accepted the kiss that lingered on my lips, his tongue pushing against mine. He felt so damn good, I gripped him tight and enjoyed his now-familiar taste. Eventually, he pulled away and I watched as he made his way to the bar and poured a drink. I felt guilty I’d listened in on the end of his meeting, and was still a little unsettled by the two men I’d run into in the hall. Chase looked exhausted. And although his beautiful blue eyes were luminous, his cheekbones were shadowed. I couldn’t help wondering again about his health. I could tell something was wrong.
Will he ever confide in me?
“Drink, Dani?”
I placed my purse on his desk, then shook my head.
“That stuff will put hair on my chest.”
A smile peeked out as he came to stand in front of me. “I still wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off you.”
I waved away his words, but secretly savored them.
“How’s the job going?” he asked.
“Great, there’s no comparison between Le Coquille and Marie’s dump.”
I’d started my new job just days after Chase had given me the information. Philippe Marquis, the owner of the five-star, French restaurant, was a jovial man. He’d hired me on the spot. My interview had been a joke, really. A recommendation from Chase Rutherford went a long way.
Le Coquille was an elegant establishment, popular for business lunches and upscale parties. With tips, I was making almost twice what I made at Marie’
s. It would take some time to get back on my feet, but I intended to work my ass off to get there. For now, just the fact that I could pay my bills was a huge load off. Things were a little easier, my future a little brighter thanks to the wonderful man in front of me.
“I’m glad it’s working out. You’re an asset, I’m sure.”
“Thanks again,” I smiled as he trailed the tip of his finger down my cheek, his touch a stroke of gliding warmth. It seemed Chase took every opportunity to touch me. I didn’t mind at all. I did the same with him, especially when I got his clothes off. Something else came to mind and I eyed him curiously. “I got a call from Mrs. Lawrence yesterday saying she was reassigned from Emmy’s case, that the case was officially closed.”
“Did you?” He took a sip of his scotch, leaning innocently on one long leg.
“You know damn well I did.” I sighed, the sound more condemning than I’d intended. “The job at Le Coquille was more than enough, Chase. You didn’t need to intervene—”
“I was happy to. Emily is an amazing kid, and you’re a devoted mother. It’s a waste of taxpayers’ money to be investigating you, a real fucking shame.”
“Thank you, but—”
“But nothing. Stop being so stubborn.”
“I keep our appointments because I want to, not because I expect your favors in return.”
His blue eyes blazed, anger igniting the fire. “Dammit, Dani! I want to do everything for you—can’t you see that. So don’t fight me. I just wish . . .”
Taken aback by the harshness of his voice, I stared silently, hoping he’d elaborate, that he’d trust me enough to tell me his wish. He’d said that once before and then clammed up like he did now.
He scrubbed a large hand over his tired face. “I’m going to Thailand.”
“What?” My body stilled at the abrupt change of subject, alarm spiking through me. This must be what he was arguing with Phil about.
For months he’d been concerned about the danger the Thailand factory posed to the Thai community, about what Robert had Los Lobos doing there.
“I have to see for myself what’s going on over there,” he said, echoing my thought.
“I understand. You need to make sure the containment company is doing its job, especially after the fabricated reports.”
“That’s not all,” he replied, and the look on his face had frost crystallizing on my skin.
He shifted, hand braced on his hip. “Robert thinks I’m going to check on the clean-up, and he’ll no doubt have his people feed me a bunch of lies, but I know for a fact that the factory isn’t safe. I have a source. It needs to shut down. I won’t settle for anything else. This has gone on far too long. I’m going there to get proof it’s polluting the water and poses a danger.”
I stared in disbelief, understanding dawning. There would be only one reason he’d need proof.
“I’m taking it to the board. Once they learn the truth, learn what Robert’s been up to, they’ll force him to step down as CEO. He needs to go. I don’t like what this company has become, or the direction he’s leading it in. This is not the legacy I want to leave behind.”
His choice of words was like a punch in my gut. I blinked hard.
“I can’t go to the board without evidence,” he continued, pacing away. “It’ll be his word against mine, and he’s got all the doctored reports.”
“What kind of evidence do you expect to find?”
“I have a contact there. The manager of the factory. He says he has some of the original reports the Thai government has ignored, even proof of the bribery to the Thailand official.”
I sucked in a shallow breath. Knees weak, I sank into a chair beside his desk. This was a bold move for Chase, exceedingly risky. I understood the necessity, even applauded his integrity and tenacity in seeing this through, but I couldn’t help the worry starting to gnaw at me.
“Is it safe? Los Lobos sounds extremely dangerous.”
“This trip is not without its risks, but I’ll be fine.”
I wished I could hold on to the optimism of his words, but worry seeded in my gut. I remembered what he’d told me about the pressure Los Lobos had put on his scientist and the suspicious car accident. One of the scientists had been killed.
“Are you sure you can trust this manager?”
“Yes, now that he knows he’ll have my support, he’s willing to come forward, but I have to do this in person. He won’t trust anyone else.”
“What if this all gets out? What about the election? If it becomes public that the factory has been unsafe all this time, and you knew about it, it’ll ruin you. No one will believe you’ve been trying to fix it.”
He blew out a resigned sigh, tapping the cut crystal glass.
“I’ll try to handle this quietly, but it’s a chance I have to take. My main priority is shutting the factory down and providing resources to aid the Thai community. People are getting hurt, Dani. I can’t stand by and watch it happen.”
I nodded, another spot softening for him. I stood and walked to him, then drew him close, inhaling his sweet scent. My fingers gripped the fine fabric of his suit jacket. I wanted to tell him he was doing the right thing, that it would all work out, but my worry was sprouting. It made me selfishly want to keep him here with me.
“I take it Phil isn’t happy. I saw him leave,” I said instead, scattering my previous thoughts.
“He’ll get over it.”
I pulled back, staring into his eyes. “Does he know what’s going on—about what Robert is doing?”“No, he doesn’t. He thinks I’m going on company business to check on the factory. You’re the only one I’ve confided in.”
I wanted to kick myself for my small spurt of joy, for feeling special.
He took another sip and regarded me over the rim of his glass, looking regretful. A long finger twirled a lock of my hair. “I’ll be gone for over a week. I’ll miss our next appointment.”
Although I tried to keep my tone nonchalant, disappointment was tucked between each word. We hadn’t missed a week since we started our arrangement. “You’ll just have to make it up to me when we meet again.”
Mischief twinkled in his blue eyes. A brow drew up. “Oh?”
“Yes.” My lip twitched. “Maybe add some padding on your desktop so I don’t break my back.”
“Got it.” He grinned widely, the affect dizzying. Setting the glass on the desk, he pulled me deeper into his body, large hands gripping the cheeks of my ass as he fused me to him. He was rock-hard, a delicious stabbing of my pelvis. “I can even add some guardrails to keep you from breaking your neck.” His teeth slowly nibbled up my jawline. His lips were soft, magical. “I know how wild you can get.”
“You are too kind.”
We both chuckled and our eyes met, finding it hard to look away. A few moments ticked by, saturated with everything I was afraid to say, to feel. And I ached because the unspoken words were reflected in the warmth of his eyes. Whatever this was, he felt it too. And it tumbled and tangled around us, wrapping us up.
“Can you stay for dinner?” he asked hopefully.
“Yes, after.”
“After?” Confusion crinkled his forehead.
I nodded with a sly smile, sliding onto the very edge of his desk. Lowering my lids, my gaze boldly tagged the front of his trousers. Spreading open my legs, I eased up the hem of my skirt, exposing the long golden slopes of my thighs.
An audible hitch in his breath hurled searing heat into every crevice of my body, setting fire to my blood.
His gaze zeroed between my thighs, hot and hungry. “Do you have any idea how difficult it is for me to work at this desk during the day? I get very . . . distracted.”
Reaching my inner thighs and finding the elastic of my panties, I hooked a finger, and drew the damp fabric aside.
“Fuck, Dani!” Chase’s body jerked. “Take it all off, Dani. I want to commit every beautiful inch of your body to memory.”
***
T
he date on my appointment card was two weeks away. I stood at my kitchen counter reading the broad strokes and thinking about the man who’d so elegantly formed them. Under the time and date was a note written in the same exacting script: I’ll miss you.
I pressed my eyes shut and slowly brought the card to my lips, admitting silently that I’d miss him, too, that I already felt a void from his absence. Chase complemented me in ways I never thought possible. He brought quiet to my chaos, passion and laughter to my sober reality.
I allowed myself to dream pleasantly in that moment until the sound of approaching footsteps flung my eyes open. Hastily dropping the card in the box with the others, I returned it to the back of the drawer.
“Emmy and I are fashioning clothes for her doll out of rubber bands,” Wanda announced, entering the kitchen and strolling past me. “Those haute couture designers have nothing on us.”
I watched sheepishly as she filled a glass with ice water and brought it to her lips.
“I think someone already did that,” I said.
Her dark eyes crinkled. “Damn, and they’re probably making millions off my idea.”
I managed an anemic smile, my mind still abstractly preoccupied. Wanda’s astute gaze honed in on my face, forcing me to nervously turn away.
“Let me guess who you’re thinking about,” she teased, punctuating her words with a light chuckle.
My feeble protest died at the look on her face. My heart was transparent, emotions crystal clear.
“Girl, whatever that man’s doing, he must be doing it good! He must be making up for lost time.”
I caught my bottom lip between my teeth, bashfully meeting her gaze. “It—it’s not like that.”
Wanda frowned, lowering her glass. “What do you mean?”
“I don't know, Wanda. I keep saying it’s just sex, but it’s more than the sexual stuff—it’s just that—God, he’s amazing! Our time together is so wonderful. We talk. We laugh. We share things. We give each other advice. It’s just that we—we connect—” I blew out an exasperated breath, unable to string more words together that didn’t sound naïve and absurd even to my ears. I never gushed over men. It wasn’t my style. What is happening to me?
