Good news! My mom will personally send invites to her whole list.
When Rayne replied almost immediately, he was irrationally pleased, as though maybe she’d been keeping an eye on her phone and hoping to hear from him.
“Get a grip, man!” he muttered as he opened her message, which said: Wow! That’s great news!!
He grinned at her enthusiastic response and tried to think of a way to keep the conversation going when another message popped up.
Could we look at the list first to make sure it doesn’t overlap with ours?
His smile faded at her business-like tone, and he shook his head. He really did need to get a grip. He couldn’t remember ever letting a woman reduce him to the emotional equivalent of a teenager, not even when he actually was a teenager.
He typed back, Good thinking. I’ll email it ASAP.
Rayne’s response was a smiley face emoji, and he stared at his phone for several long moments, but the conversation was over.
As he headed for the kitchen to grab a beer, even though it was the middle of the afternoon, he congratulated himself on being a stand-up guy: He was helping Rayne and helping the environment, and he wasn’t doing it to get Rayne into bed. As he popped open the beer and flicked on the TV, he ignored the part of his brain that said if he truly was a stand-up guy, he’d be able to make a phone call without worrying about going off the rails.
Chapter 7
A few days later, Chase had started to seriously hate having a conscience. He was itching to see Rayne. He’d been having an ongoing email discussion with Ben’s contact about the gig in Nepal, but the guy was being a little cagey, and Chase was thinking about just getting on a plane to anywhere so he could feel normal again.
Then a text message popped up from Rayne: Invitations will be ready Thursday. I can courier some to your mom. Just need the address.
He didn’t even hesitate before texting back: I can swing by that day and pick them up. He still had the business card his mom had given him, so he already knew her work address.
Are you sure? I don’t want to put you out.
No problem. Around 4:00?
He was thinking that they’d chat a little and then go for a drink. After a glass of wine, maybe she’d open up about the guy from her past who had her so spooked. For one brief moment when he was sitting on her living room floor, he’d seen the desire in her eyes. She wanted him, he was sure of it. He just had to figure out a way to make it work without hurting her.
After a pause that felt longer then the two minutes it actually was, Rayne texted back: 4 is good. See ya then!
As soon as he turned the corner and saw the house where Rayne worked, Chase understood why she felt so passionate about saving it. Despite being crowded on all sides by new buildings, it still managed to look dignified without being showy. A brick pathway led to a low porch with widely spaced columns and a double door flanked by floor-to-ceiling windows with dark green shutters. There was a full-length bay window above the front door and brick chimneys jutting out of either end of the roof. The house had a pleasing symmetry and a quiet elegance.
He took out his cell phone and snapped a few photos then crossed the porch to the front door. He paused in the foyer, and a woman in a knee-length navy blue skirt and white silk blouse came out of the room to his left. Her blond hair was swept back from her face by a wide velvet hair band. Chase couldn’t help admiring the way her snug skirt and blousy top accented her curves in all the right ways.
“Can I help you?” she asked.
“I’m here to see Rayne Michael.”
“You must be Chase Allison,” she said. “She told me you’d be stopping by. I’m Sheila. We’re so grateful for your help. You are truly a lifesaver.”
He smiled and waved away the compliment. “Rayne’s doing all the real work. I’m just getting some pictures together.”
“Don’t be so modest. Your connections are going to be the difference between a good event and a hugely successful one.” Her blue eyes twinkled, and he had a flash of the clichéd sexy librarian, minus the glasses.
“I don’t know about that.” Unless he was totally off his game, she was flirting with him. If it wasn’t for Rayne, he’d probably be asking Sheila out for a drink already.
“Trust me, we couldn’t do it without your artistic expertise,” she said with a warm smile. “I’ll let Rayne know you’re here.”
He expected her to lead him upstairs because Rayne had said something about her office being a former bedroom, which had conjured all sorts of fantasies in his mind. But instead, Sheila led him back into her office and then opened the door to the next room.
Chase stepped inside. Rayne was on the far side of a huge oak desk that was strewn with papers. The sight of her made his heart give a little jump—until he saw the man she was standing next to. Chase felt a hot pang of jealousy. He should have stuck to texting.
Rayne looked up at him, her face blank for a moment. Then she smiled. “Is it 4:00 already? I totally lost track of time.”
Chase smiled back, but he noticed that she still hadn’t moved away from the man.
“You must be Chase Allison,” the man said. He came over to shake Chase’s hand. “I’m Jeremy Banks. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you. I can’t thank you enough for your help.”
The man looked like he’d stepped from the pages of a magazine, he was that kind of good-looking. Smooth and intelligent, too. And he surrounded himself with smart, beautiful women. Chase felt a grudging admiration, but mostly he felt out-classed and awkward as hell.
“Happy to help,” Chase said.
“And your mother has been generous, too,” Jeremy said. “I’d like to send her a token of our thanks. Flowers maybe?”
Chase had an image of this man going toe to toe with his father and honestly didn’t know who would win. Maybe flowers from a handsome stranger would make his father appreciate her more.
“She’d love that,” he said. He took a business card from his wallet and jotted down his parents’ address and handed it to Jeremy.
“I’ll get you those invitations,” Rayne said. “They’re in my office.”
“Nice meeting you,” Chase said to Jeremy, who nodded and smiled. Then Chase followed Rayne out into the foyer.
“So that’s your boss?” he said as they walked up the stairs.
“Yeah. He’s amazing,” Rayne said with more enthusiasm than Chase would have liked. “And best of all, he’s convinced the landlord to sell us the building! Jeremy really can work miracles. We just have to figure out how to get Vincent to come down on the asking price.”
“That’s great news,” Chase said, trying to shrug off the jealousy he was feeling and hoping she didn’t pick up on it. “Oh, hey, now that I’ve seen this place, I was thinking we should have a photo or two of the house at the gala. I could bring my equipment one day and take some shots.”
She turned to him with a look of pleasure on her face. “You’re a genius!” she said, grabbing his arm in her excitement. “I can’t believe I didn’t think of that before! Maybe we could even sell some smaller prints at the event—and we could use the photo in the promotional materials.”
Chase glanced down at her hand on his arm, and she instantly let go. But when he looked up into her smoky gray eyes, he knew she’d felt the same jolt of electricity he had. She gave him a little half-smile and nervously smoothed her hair behind her ear then started walking again.
He couldn’t help appreciating the way her short black skirt hugged her ass and showed off her legs as she led him up the stairs and into a room that was flooded with late-afternoon sunlight from a set of windows on the far side. Her desk was smaller but looked about as old as the one in Jeremy’s office, and it, too, was covered with papers. His eye was drawn to the vintage-looking loveseat in th
e corner, a perfect spot for canoodling.
“Here are the invitations and the envelopes,” she said, breaking into his reverie. She handed him two boxes and a manila folder. “We printed out the labels from your mother’s list after we cross-checked them with our own. There was some overlap, but we figured we’d let her contact those people. That personal touch really makes a difference.”
He put the stuff in his shoulder bag. “I’ll take these to her tomorrow and maybe stick around and help her address a few.”
“I’m sure she’ll appreciate that.” Rayne turned back to her desk. “Oh, and just drop them in any mailbox—we already put stamps on all the envelopes.”
“Great, and, uh, by the way,” he said, trying to regain her full attention. “I’ve gotten a bunch of responses to the email I sent out to the photographers and artists. I thought we could go over the submissions together. Maybe this weekend?”
She was looking through a stack of papers on her desk, trying to find something. “This weekend?”
He had been hoping for more enthusiasm. “Are you busy?”
“No more than usual,” she said, triumphantly pulling out a manila folder.
“What if I come by your place on Saturday?” he asked.
She looked up at him as if suddenly clueing into what they were talking about. After a pause, she said, “Evening would be best. Around 6:00?”
“That works,” he said with a smile. He was about to ask her to go for a drink when Sheila popped her head in the doorway.
“Jeremy wants to know whether you want Indian or Vietnamese,” Sheila said to Rayne.
“Hmmmm... Vietnamese.”
Sheila nodded and disappeared.
“You guys are having dinner together?” Chase asked, hoping his voice didn’t sound as strange to her as it did to him.
“Ordering in because we’re working late,” she said. “I knew there would be a ton of work for this thing, but I had no idea how much.”
She walked out of the office, and he followed her down the stairs.
“I bet his wife isn’t crazy about him working late,” Chase said, trying to sound casual.
“Jeremy’s not married,” Rayne said.
Of course he’s not, Chase thought, and wasn’t sure how to interpret the smile that lingered on her face.
At the door, she put her hand on his arm and said, “Thanks again for stopping by. I’ll see you Saturday.” Then she headed into Jeremy’s office.
Out on the sidewalk, Chase resisted the urge to look back at the house and see whether he could catch a glimpse of Rayne through the large downstairs window. With Jeremy. He was getting that restless feeling again, so he decided to walk home.
A few blocks later, he saw Sweet Happens and swung inside for a little pick-me-up. He was surprised to find the place empty of customers.
Crystal’s face lit up when she saw him. “Hey, you,” she said. “Hazelnut coffee time?”
“Hey.” He walked up to the counter and eyed the pastries in the display case. “I’m thinking about changing things up a little. How about a scone? And maybe some tea?”
“Earl Grey?”
“Great! Put it in a to-go cup. I’ll take it with me.”
“Sure thing.”
She got his tea and put the scone in a white paper bag. He pulled money out of his wallet and set it on the counter before she could protest. “Keep the change,” he said and started for the door.
“So, hey, Rayne asked me to donate one of my paintings for the fundraiser she’s putting together,” Crystal said. He turned back around, and she was beaming.
“That’s fantastic,” Chase said. “You guys must be pretty good friends.” He was thinking about Rayne’s standoffishness and thinking that if he was the stand-up guy he wished he was, he’d set Crystal straight sometime soon, for everyone’s sake.
“She and Savannah come in here a lot,” Crystal said. “And Rayne asked about my paintings as soon as I put them up. She must have really liked them.”
“You do good work,” Chase said, and he meant it.
“I’m so excited. I’d love your help picking the right one. Maybe you could come by some night after I close and go through them with me?”
He paused. The hot tea was searing his hand through the paper cup, and he was wishing like hell he’d stopped at a Starbucks instead, preferably one in Timbuktu.
“Why don’t you email me some images and I’ll take a look,” he said.
“Well, I’ve got some new cupcake flavors I wanted to try out and this bottle of ice wine I picked up at a tasting awhile back, so I thought maybe we could make an evening of it.” Crystal kept her gaze averted and brushed invisible crumbs off the top of the display case as she spoke.
He’d known this was coming. Man, he hated these conversations. “Ah, Crystal. I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Why? Do you suddenly prefer red wine?” she said, finally lifting her gaze to him. From the look on her face, she already guessed what he was going to say.
“I like hanging out with you, Crystal, I really do. It’s just—”
She’d gone very still and quiet, but he could feel the anger and hurt starting to radiate from her. “Just what?” she said.
“I mean, we’ve tried this before, and it didn’t work out so well. You know how I am. I never stick around for long, and you deserve someone who will be here all the time.”
“I’m a big girl,” she said, hurt flashing in her eyes. “I can decide for myself what I do or do not deserve. And I know exactly who you are, Chase Allison.”
He’d forgotten how quickly she could switch from sweet to fired up. And once she got going, it was hard to turn it off.
“Don’t try to make out like you’re doing me a favor,” she continued, her voice getting louder with every word. “Like you’re some kind of hero. If you’re not attracted to me anymore, just say so.”
“It’s not that.” Oh, god, why had he said that? “I mean, you’re beautiful and sexy, and I honestly enjoy spending time with you.” He was only getting himself in deeper. He wished he could hit the “undo” button.
Her expression softened slightly, and she put her hands on her hips. “So what’s the problem?”
“The problem is—” Chase stopped, suddenly aware that he couldn’t answer honestly without revealing his feelings about Rayne. And even though he didn’t know exactly what those feelings were, he was pretty sure Crystal wasn’t the first person he should be telling.
“The problem is, ah…that… I’m trying to change, to be better about how I treat women.” It sounded lame, but it wasn’t entirely insincere. “I shouldn’t have gone with you to Thaw’s opening. I didn’t want to lead you on, and I thought we could be friends. You said that’s what you wanted, too.”
“I lied, OK?” She’d flipped back to anger now, and Chase was starting to get a headache.
“I’m sorry, Crystal, I really am.”
She glared at him, and the longer she stared, the more uncomfortable he got. He was thinking about leaving before he could cause any more trouble when her eyes suddenly got wide.
“You’re sleeping with someone else,” she said.
“What? No.”
“Of course you are. I’m such an idiot! You’ve been in town for months now, and you always make sure you’ve got something going with someone. I guess I should be glad that you’re a one-woman man in your own small way.”
She turned away to go into the kitchen.
“I hate leaving things like this,” he called after her. “Why don’t I come over and look at your paintings tomorrow night?”
“Forget it,” she said over her shoulder. “I don’t need your pity.”
“What can I do?”
“For sta
rters, you can get out of my shop.”
He decided to leave before she came up with a whole list of things for him to do that likely ended with a one-way trip to hell.
Chapter 8
Rayne had been spending so much time with Jeremy that they had fallen into a comfortable sort of closeness, the kind where they could anticipate what the other person was thinking—about work at least. She was under no illusions about what it meant, but she was enjoying herself just the same.
And then Chase had walked in looking rugged and handsome, and it was so strange to see him in Jeremy’s office. She had lost track of time, her head was full of details about the event, and she couldn’t process the sight of him or the sensation it triggered, a pleasant sort of electricity that buzzed through her whole body.
So now she was baffled that she’d told him to come by at 6:00 on Saturday. It meant she’d have to make him dinner, which was way different from fixing some sandwiches, and it meant they’d be alone at the house. Carol was out of town all weekend, and Savannah had already told Rayne she’d be with Colin on Saturday night. Rayne would not have suggested it if she’d been thinking clearly. But she never seemed to be thinking clearly when Chase was involved.
She kept telling herself it wasn’t a date—he was with Crystal—and she had to keep things casual. On Saturday afternoon, she walked over to Eastern Market, where she went almost every weekend in the summer because she loved strolling through the historic main building with its food stalls and then wandering among the kiosks outside and browsing the funky clothes and jewelry.
As she wandered through the crowded market comparing the quality and prices of the various vegetable sellers, she paused to listen to a band playing in the parking lot near the school. A woman was belting out “Me and Bobby McGee” in a voice eerily similar to Janice Joplin’s, and it gave her a chill.
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