He was one of the first people in line for the bus, and he headed straight for the back where he could be near the toilet. He put his bag on the seat next to him and hunkered down, hoping other people would assume he was traveling with someone and move on.
“Hey, buddy, you don’t look so good.” Chase opened his eyes to see a tall, beefy Texan in a polo shirt with a camera slung around his neck. “It’s nothing contagious, is it?”
Chase tried to smile, but his teeth were chattering. “Just a cold,” he said. Colds were contagious but not deadly, and maybe it would be enough to convince the guy to find another seat.
“Buddy, that ain’t no cold,” the Texan said.
Stop calling me buddy, Chase thought irritably. He just wanted to get back to Kathmandu where he’d have a better shot at finding a doctor. He didn’t want to be stranded out here in Chitwan. If he could get some medicine, he might be able to sleep it off in a day or two and still hook up with Roy for the assignment.
The Texan eyed him for a minute then squeezed into the seat across the aisle, next to a plump young woman with a huge backpack in her lap. Chase leaned his head against the window and closed his eyes. Five hours back to Kathmandu. Could he keep from vomiting for five hours?
He couldn’t. Before the bus even hit the main road, he had to dive into the bathroom. He vomited so hard and so long that there was nothing left in his system. His stomach ached from the effort. He splashed water on his face and stumbled back to his seat. He was shivering from the chills, and he had a blinding headache. Every bump in the road was pure torture.
Chase took a sip of water from his bottle as the Texan watched him from across the aisle. He tried to distract himself by thinking about what day it was back in D.C. Late afternoon in Nepal was the wee hours of the morning in D.C. It was Saturday. The gala was tonight. But Rayne’s tonight, not his. He made a mental note to send her a text first thing tomorrow morning, when she’d be getting ready for the gala. Probably putting on an evening gown.
The bus hit a pothole and bounced. Chase’s stomach clenched, and his head felt like an elephant was standing on it. What color? he asked himself. What color is Rayne’s dress? Black? Red? Snug or slinky?
It wasn’t working. He still felt sick and now he was missing Rayne.
And then it hit him. He was alone in a foreign country, dangerously ill and about to slip into delirium, and everyone who cared about him was halfway across the world and half a day behind him. He’d never felt so low.
He gripped his camera bag to his chest, suddenly aware of how easy it would be for someone to rob him. How long had he been on the bus? He looked out the window, but he was having trouble focusing. It was getting dark out, and the people in the bus were reflected back at him in the glass. But their faces looked ghastly and skeletal. When the lights of cars streamed past, the streaks hurt his eyes. Rain drummed on the roof of the bus, and he felt the hammering in his bones. The bus splashed through huge puddles, the windows were streaked with water, and he felt like he was drowning.
He looked at his watch but couldn’t make out the time in the dim light and couldn’t remember how to make the dial light up. Then he began to wonder if he was awake or asleep. He could feel the bus moving so either way, he was getting closer to Kathmandu. He wanted to stay awake, he thought that would be safer, but he was aware of slipping away.
It was raining. Rayning. Everywhere. He saw her face in the window. She was wearing a yellow slicker and a silly matching hat with a brim and a chin strap. He laughed. But she didn’t laugh. She had that look on her face, the same one she’d had when he told her he was going to Nepal. Like an arrow through the heart. But not the good kind. Not the cupid kind. She was holding a bird with a white head and brown wings and then he saw the feet and recognized the blue-footed booby, the bird on her cell phone, and Chase wished he could hit rewind and go back to that night when she’d left her phone at Zipped and start over.
He must have been talking to himself because a man with a Texas accent said, “What’s that, buddy?”
“Nothing,” Chase mumbled. I’m on a bus, he reminded himself. In Texas. No, Nepal. The Texan was sitting across the aisle. Chase lay curled up on the seat, his arms still hugging the camera bag.
“Where are you staying?” the man asked.
Stay—why hadn’t she asked him to stay? Because she knew he’d say no? “I never should have left,” Chase said, feeling miserable.
“Well, you gotta leave now because the bus has stopped. We’re in Kathmandu.”
Chase struggled to sit upright and gazed around. The bus had indeed stopped moving, and the last of the passengers were filing out into the night. Everything was a swirl of light and color and water.
“Kathmandu?” he said uncertainly.
“Do you have a place to stay?” the man asked, sounding impatient now.
Chase told him the name and address of the guest house and was proud of himself for remembering. He got to his feet, which was awkward because he was still clutching his bag to his chest. The man reached out a hand to help him, but Chase said, “I’m fine.”
“You are far from fine, but suit yourself,” the man said. “At least let me get you into a cab.”
Chase couldn’t remember ever feeling so suspicious or paranoid. But as soon as he started to walk, he realized that he was going to need the help. He wove down the aisle with one hand on his bag and the other grabbing the back of each seat in turn with the man holding onto his elbow the whole way.
He got down the steps all right but nearly collapsed when his feet hit the road.
“Steady there, buddy,” the Texan said. He guided Chase to a nearby taxi and opened the back door. As Chase climbed inside, the Texan gave the driver the name and address of the guest house. To Chase, he said, “I’m assuming you’ve got money.”
Chase nodded and said, “Thanks.”
“Just looking out for a fellow American,” the man said and swung the door shut.
Chase fought the urge to lie down across the backseat of the cab and struggled to keep his eyes open for the short drive to the guest house. Every muscle in his body ached, and even though there was nothing left in his stomach, he was so nauseated he was sure he would vomit.
The taxi pulled up in front of the guest house, and Chase handed the driver a wad of money that must have been enough or even too much because the guy let him stumble out of the cab. He walked slowly inside. Everything was wobbly, the whole world was swaying. It was Saturday night, and the front room was crowded with lots of people coming and going. He glanced behind the counter and saw that Maya was working, but she didn’t see him. He made his way to the stairs and slowly, painfully climbed up to his room.
When he got there, he shut the door, stripped down to his underwear, crawled into bed, and finally let himself go to sleep.
In the middle of the night, he woke up enough to stumble down the hall to the bathroom. He found an unopened bottle of water in his duffel bag and drank half of it. Then he remembered his mental note and sent Rayne a text message saying Good luck tonight and closed his eyes and went back to sleep. Or tried to anyway. Between the chills and the sweats, he kept waking up, and when he did fall asleep, he dreamed about being stranded—on islands in the middle of the ocean, on buses plunging off cliffs, high up a mountain with no way down.
And he dreamed about her. At first she was alone, but then he started seeing her with that guy, Brian Walrus. They were in a nightclub and Rayne was wearing an evening gown and bright red lipstick and the guy was kissing her and she was saying I wouldn’t chase him. I never chased him. He ran away.
Thank god you’re here.
Chapter 16
When all the paintings and photographs were up, the four of them took a few moments to admire their work. Then Kyle and Jeremy left, and Rayne and Sheila spe
nt the next couple of hours wrapping small white Christmas lights down the length of the stair railing and around the windows and doorways. As Colin’s staff started to arrive to set up the tables and food stations, Rayne arranged candles and pumpkins of all sizes and fresh evergreen sprigs on mantels and windowsills, reveling in the activity and energy swirling through the old house.
Around 5, she went upstairs to change in her private bathroom. She slipped on the dress and shimmery sheer pantyhose and stood there in stockinged feet applying her makeup. She went a little more dramatic than usual—gray eye shadow to complement her eyes, a swoop of eyeliner, and lots of mascara. She brushed on some blush and was putting on a pair of sparkly dangling earrings when her phone beeped. She dug it out of her purse and saw that it was a text message—from Chase.
Her heart betrayed her by giving a little leap. The message was short, but it took her a moment to puzzle it out: Ghood luckt ongith. Chase’s messages were usually spelled right, and if it hadn’t been so timely, she would have guessed he’d texted her by accident by sitting on his phone.
She thought about sending him a quick Thanks! Or a Screw you. But in the end, she just put the phone back in her purse and slipped on her shoes. She walked out of the bathroom and smoothed down the front of her dress, wishing she had a full-length mirror to check her appearance in. She reached the foot of the stairs just as Sheila was holding the front door open for Colin. He let out a wolf whistle when he saw Rayne.
“Thanks—I needed that!” she said.
“Totally deserved. You look beautiful.”
Sheila excused herself, and Rayne turned her attention to helping Colin and his sister Jessica get the food into the kitchen, where they would finish the prep work and keep the wine and champagne chilled. The wait staff started to arrive, and everything was bustling.
Sheila reappeared in a beaded dress of pale gold that looked straight out of the 1920s.
“You look sensational!” Rayne said. “I knew you would. Are you bringing a date?”
Sheila smiled. “Nope. I thought I’d see if I could cozy up to a wealthy bachelor tonight.”
Just then, Jeremy walked through the door in a tux with a brocade cummerbund and matching tie.
“That’s where I’d start getting cozy,” Rayne said in a low voice.
Sheila sighed. “I try to pretend he’s my brother. I like working here too much to take a chance on wrecking my job.”
“It’s a mystery to me why some woman hasn’t snatched him up by now,” Rayne said.
“He goes on plenty of dates, but he never seems to get serious. He’s too wrapped up in running this organization, if you ask me.”
“Or he hasn’t found the right woman yet,” Rayne said, and they both sighed.
Jeremy walked over to them. “The place looks outstanding,” he said. “You two have done an incredible job. I’m thinking you could moonlight as interior decorators.”
They both smiled, enjoying the praise.
“Anything I can do?” he asked. “Or is it safe to assume you’ve got everything under control?”
“Actually, I need you to sign off on the catering order,” Sheila said and then led him into the kitchen.
With just an hour to go before the guests started arriving, Rayne did a last-minute sweep of all the rooms, straightening a painting or two, making sure Colin had what he needed. She’d asked Kyle to set up a small sound system—just a couple of speakers connected to a laptop loaded with classical music and jazz—and now she turned the music on low and strategically dimmed some of the overhead lights. Then the guests started to arrive, and she and Sheila were busy greeting people and explaining the bidding process and pointing out the refreshments.
Half an hour later, Savannah walked in the door and stopped. “Oh, it’s just beautiful! Like a fairy tale!” She gave Rayne a big hug.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” Rayne said, holding on tight.
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Besides, it gives me an excuse to wear this dress again,” Savannah said with a smile as she ran her hand down the sexy blue dress she’d bought her for the gala she’d thrown for her own organization.
Colin came up behind her with an older, attractive woman on his arm. She was tastefully dressed in a knee-length black dress that showed off her trim waist, and her coppery brown hair fell in soft layers around her face. “Mom, you remember Savannah,” Colin said.
The woman took Savannah’s hand and said, “Oh yes, of course. We met at Colin’s wine bar back in June. It’s lovely to see you again, my dear. Just lovely.”
“It’s wonderful to see you again, too,” Savannah said and blushed when Colin winked at her.
“We’d love to have you over to the house for dinner sometime soon,” Colin’s mother said.
“I’d like that,” Savannah said.
Colin turned to Rayne. “And this is Savannah’s roommate, Rayne.”
Rayne held out her hand, and the woman gave it a squeeze. “Rayne Michael? You’re the one who put this event together, right? You’re Chase’s friend. It’s so nice to finally meet you.”
Colin shifted uneasily, and Rayne was about to say she wasn’t Chase’s friend, but she caught herself. “It’s nice to meet you, too, Mrs. Allison.”
“Please, call me Bea. And I could just kick Chase for not being here. Especially after I had his tux dry-cleaned. I think I’ll send him the bill when he gets back from Tibet or Nepal or wherever he flew off to.”
Rayne was desperately trying to think of an excuse to walk away when Jeremy caught sight of them and hurried over. “Beatrice! I’m so glad you could make it.”
“How could I stay away, especially after you sent those beautiful flowers.”
“Most of these people are here because of you,” he said. “We can’t thank you enough.”
“Oh, well, I’m always happy to support a good cause,” she said, looking a little flustered. Rayne wasn’t surprised to see that Jeremy’s effect on women extended even to those who were older—and married. “I’m sorry my husband wasn’t able to join me, but Saturday night is a busy one in the restaurant business.”
“Of course,” Jeremy said. “But Colin here has been doing a first-rate job. And Chase’s photos are already drawing bids. So we owe an enormous debt to the Allison family.”
“Where are Chase’s photos?” she asked, and Jeremy led her away to show her.
“Seems there’s no avoiding Chase tonight,” Rayne said.
“Sorry, sweetie,” Savannah said, and Colin snatched a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and handed it to Rayne.
“Nothing a little champagne can’t fix,” he said.
Rayne took a sip and nodded. Savannah watched another waiter go by carrying a tray of pastries stuffed with shrimp.
“What is that heavenly smell?” she said.
Colin laughed. “Come back to the kitchen with me and I’ll fix you a sampler plate.”
Savannah gave Rayne a questioning look, and Rayne waved a hand. “Go. Have fun. I’ll be fine.”
Rayne wandered around, mingling with the guests and answering questions about the art and the organization. The rooms were filling up, and people were laughing and talking and some were using the app Kyle had made to place bids while others used the laptops set up strategically for that purpose.
She found Kyle standing in front of Crystal’s paintings punching buttons on his phone.
“That app of yours is just perfect,” she said, and he jumped.
“Sorry, I didn’t see you there,” he said.
“Whatcha doing?” she asked in a teasing voice.
He glanced around furtively. “I figured if I bid on the pair a little above the reserve price, I’d still have some room to go up if anyone else bids.”
“You re
ally like them, huh?” she said. “And maybe the artist, too?” She nudged him in the ribs with her elbow.
Kyle’s face turned pink with embarrassment. “My apartment walls are a little bare, and I just thought—”
“Whatever you say!” Rayne said.
When Crystal arrived a short time later, Rayne told her someone had already bid on her paintings, and she broke into a huge smile.
Rayne was on her third glass of champagne and thinking she really ought to eat something. The bids were humming along and everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves when she spotted Brandon gazing at Chase’s photos. She took a deep breath and walked over.
He glanced up and then did a slow head-to-toe scan of her that made her uncomfortable—and a little pleased. By the expression on his face, he liked what he saw. He was wearing a tux with a red tie, and his thick blond hair was slicked back.
“You look stunning,” he said.
She smiled. “Nice tux.”
A waiter paused, and Brandon took two glasses of champagne from his tray and handed one to Rayne. She’d already had three—or was it four?—glasses, but it was really good champagne, and it was definitely taking the edge off her nervousness about the evening and helping her forget at least a little about Chase.
She took a sip of her drink as Brandon gestured toward Chase’s photos. “These are great. Is the photographer here? I’d love to talk to him.”
Rayne took another gulp of champagne. Why wouldn’t everyone just shut up about Chase?
“I’ve been thinking about redoing the decor in our office,” Brandon was saying, “and I think a series of photos like these might be just what I’m looking for.”
Rayne downed the rest of her champagne. Then she leaned in with her fingertips braced against Brandon’s chest and kissed him on the lips. Brandon looked stunned.
The Pursuit (Capitol Love Series Book 2) Page 15
