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Authors: Jackie Braun

After the Party (14 page)

BOOK: After the Party
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“Oscar Sanborn.” Chase nodded. “The man is a legend.”

“You mean a pariah. My mother had the good sense to leave him after he was indicted.”

“On charges for which he was later cleared.”

“Oscar was lucky,” she sneered.

“More like innocent.”

It came as no surprise that the distinction made little difference to Bernadette. She said, “Either way, he’ll never work on Wall Street again. And his reputation is toast. My mother left before he could ruin hers.”

“For better or worse, richer or poorer. Vows can be so damned inconvenient,” Chase said dryly.

Cole started coughing, although his smile made it clear he was really camouflaging a laugh. Bernadette wasn’t fooled. She looked as if she could have cheerfully gouged out his eyes before moving on to Chase’s.

“Ella is a pariah, too.”

“Which was why old Brad here pulled a disappearing act, too,” Chase retorted.

“Hey—” the other man said only to be cut off by his fiancée.

“He traded up. Poor Ella,” Bernadette purred with far more glee than sympathy in her tone. “She can’t get invited to the A-list parties so now she is trying the backdoor approach. Reinventing herself as a party planner is creative, I will give her that, but please. She’s no party planner.”

“She’s doing a credible imitation,” Chase shot back. And she was, which made his duplicity all the more unpalatable.

Cole, trying to salvage the situation or at least keep it from deteriorating any further, tried to change the subject.

“How do you feel about horses, Chase? I own a couple of thoroughbreds, including a yearling that shows real promise on the track.”

“Bradley is looking to purchase a foal sired by Peerpoint’s Return. He placed in the Preakness last year and finished fourth in the Derby the year before that,” Bernadette inserted importantly. “With the right trainer, Bradley thinks Peerpoint’s Return could have done better.”

“Really?” Chase replied. He was supposed to be impressed. That was what she expected. He’d been around enough people like Bernadette to understand that. Hell, he’d dated enough women like her. Women who liked to drop names and who used others to elevate their social stature.

More than ever, Chase appreciated Ella’s authenticity and her sense of humor, which she was willing to direct at herself on occasion.

“Can I give you some advice?” he said to Bradley.

“Advice?”

Chase shook his head. “No, I guess it’s really more like an observation.” He leaned in close to be sure he had the other man’s full attention. It was merely a bonus that Bernadette leaned in, as well. “You bet on the wrong horse.”

“What?” Bradley said at the same time Bernadette sputtered incredulously, “I...I... You can’t speak to me that way. Bradley, you’re not going to let him speak to me that way, are you?”

Chase answered for him. “You should have paid attention, Bernadette. Did he speak up on Ella’s behalf when people started saying hurtful things?”

“That’s not the same.”

“Horse of a different color?” Chase shook his head. “But you both deserve each other. Excuse me.”

He spied Ella through the crowd. She was a welcome sight. He wasn’t entirely comfortable with the feelings she inspired in him, but he couldn’t deny them. The only thing tempering his reaction was guilt. He gave in to the overwhelming urge to kiss her.

“Wow,” she murmured as he drew back. Out of deference for their surroundings, he’d kept the kiss short. “What was that for?”

“Do I need a reason?” he asked.

“No.” She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pulled him back for another quick lip-lock. Afterward she murmured, “Neither do I.”

“You’re special, Ella.”

He’d intended the words as a compliment, but she frowned.

“Uh-oh, something really is wrong. Are you...dumping me?”

“What? No! Why would you say that?”

“Whenever someone calls you special, especially someone you’re dating. Not that we’re really a couple—”

“We’re a couple,” he said.

“Oh.”

“And I’m not dumping you.”

“Oh.”

Chase framed her face with his hands. “And you are special, Ella. Special, amazing, gorgeous, funny—”

Her lips curved. “Don’t forget smart.”

“I was getting to that.” He smiled, too, before pulling her close.

“I didn’t hear a sexy in there,” she murmured against his cheek.

“That’s a given.”

“You’re special, too,” she whispered. Her breath tickled his ear when she added, “I’ll show you exactly how special later tonight.”

He didn’t point out that she would be staying over at Sandra’s parents’ house. It was her words, the promise behind them, that touched him in a way no mere sexual fantasy could.

Sandra came up then with his beer.

“I understand from Cole that I missed quite an exchange while I was off getting this,” she said with a grin as she handed Chase the bottle.

“I’m really sorry about that. I should have kept my big mouth shut.” To Ella he said, “I just had the displeasure of meeting Bradley and Bernadette.”

“Oh, God!” She glanced around. “I was really hoping that with as many people as are here, we wouldn’t run into them.”

“No such luck, I’m afraid.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Was it bad?”

“That depends on who you ask,” Sandra supplied. She rose up on tiptoe and kissed Chase’s cheek. “That’s for being a white knight.”

“Ella hardly qualifies as a damsel in distress,” Chase argued.

He meant it, too. He’d never met a woman more capable of taking care of herself, even if her methods were unconventional. But being capable didn’t mean she couldn’t also be vulnerable. She could be used, hurt. She had been. Just as she had been underestimated by a lot of people, present company included. Chase’s biggest worry was that he would hurt her, too.

“Am I missing something?” Ella wanted to know.

Sandra ignored the question. “You’re right, Chase. Our Ella can save herself. She’s proved as much more than once during the past few years. Still, it’s nice to know someone has her back for a change. So thanks.”

Not sure how to reply, Chase sipped his beer.

“White knight, hmm?” Ella said.

He shrugged, uncomfortable with the title. “I gave it my best shot.”

To Sandra, Ella said, “We can’t stay long.”

Both of them gaped at her.

“But you were going to spend the night,” Sandra reminded her.

“I know. Change of plans.” Ella winked. “I promised Chase I was going to show him something.”

Sandra’s expression morphed from confused to knowing. “I bet you did.”

* * *

By the time they’d reached the city, the rain that was predicted for the evening had started to fall.

Chase circled the block three times without finding a place for his car. When he reached the front of her building a fourth time, he double-parked in front of the entrance.

“You can’t park here,” Ella told him.

“I just did.”

“But you
can’t.
You’ll get ticketed or, worse, your car will be towed.”

Neither of her dire predictions appeared to have any effect on Chase’s decision. For a man who generally colored inside the lines, he suddenly seemed willing to break form. He got out of the car, came around to her side with an umbrella. White knight, Sandra had called him. Ella agreed, and not only because of this gallant gesture. She might not need saving, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t appreciate a man who would go to bat for her.

Huddled together under the umbrella, they hurried to the door. Under the awning, she turned.

“Go back and move your car.”

“I don’t give a damn about the car.”

“A man who doesn’t give a damn about his car? Be still my heart,” she teased. Then, “Really, Chase, you should move it.”

“After,” he said. “You promised to show me something.”

He took the keys from her hand, unlocked the door and followed her inside.

“I wish I lived on the first floor,” she muttered as they started up.

“I don’t know. I have a new appreciation for stairs.”

“You...what?” She glanced over her shoulder and understanding dawned. His gaze was on her butt.

“This must be how you stay so toned.”

“It’s an excellent cardio workout,” she agreed. “Especially if you take the steps at a jog, and it’s a lot cheaper than a gym membership.”

It was her turn to take in his physique. Despite the umbrella’s semi-protection, his white shirt was plastered to the contours of an impressive chest and rock-solid abs. She couldn’t wait to peel it off him.

Suddenly energized, she took off.

“Hey!” he shouted. “What are you doing?”

Ella’s husky laughter rang out, echoing down the stairwell, before she called over her shoulder, “Seeing if you can keep up!”

Halfway up the first flight, she glanced back. She hadn’t heard any footsteps behind her. She figured Chase had decided she was crazy. But he was grinning—
grinning!
—and looking hot despite his soggy clothes.

“What are you waiting for?” she asked.

“Just giving you a head start.” He nodded to her feet. “It’s only fair given those heels.”

“I don’t expect special treatment, but I’ll take it.” Feeling equal parts ridiculous and turned on, she continued up.

This time, Chase followed fast on her heels. She could hear him coming, the leather soles of his shoes slapping the risers with rhythmic force. The sound was exhilarating and she hoped indicative of what was to come.

Laughter bubbled out when she reached the third landing. Before she could start up the final flight, however, Chase stole her breath by wrapping his hands around her waist and hauling her backward. His body was hard against hers. Steamy from the combination of heated skin and sodden clothes. His fingers found the hem of her dress and began working it up her thighs. A moan escaped when he reached the band of her panties.

“My apartment—”

“Too far,” he groaned.

He had a point.

Ella had never had sex in a stairwell, though she’d fantasized in great detail about doing the deed in an elevator. But that wasn’t what gave her heart a start. Chase, Mr. Conservative, was flouting convention in ways she hadn’t dreamed him capable.

“You’re full of surprises,” she told him.

“Just wait.”

And with that he proceeded to prove his point.

TWELVE

Chase woke up
smiling the following morning and not only because of the naked woman whose leg was tossed over both of his.

He replayed the events of the previous evening. Sex in a stairwell? That wasn’t like him. Neither were the scenes in his dining room and office, but damned if he could find fault with the outcome.

He glanced around for a clock, but couldn’t find one, which came as no real surprise. Ella was the sort of person who ran on her own time. That should annoy him, would have if she didn’t get things done when they needed to be done. And look sexy doing it. He found himself smiling again.

Ella moved, and her thigh slid up his legs. Chase’s grin gave way to a groan. Would he ever get enough of her? Did he want to?

“Good morning,” she murmured, pushing hair out of her eyes. On a throaty chuckle she added, “Someone’s wide awake.”

“I was just thinking about last night,” he replied.

“Yeah? What a coincidence. She pushed to a kneeling position on the lumpy futon mattress. The pose, along with her tumbled hair and sleepy eyes, were the stuff of fantasies. And that was before she straddled him. “So was I.”

* * *

Chase cursed and crumpled up the page he’d been reading in
The Wall Street Journal.
Damn, Kellerman! Once again, Trumbull Toys’ top competitor had beaten them to market with a remarkably similar toy—this time a life-size talking doll.

Kellerman’s CEO was quoted in the article predicting the doll would be one of the most sought-after toys for girls between the ages of three and nine that Christmas. Even though it was summer, marketing had already geared up for the holiday shopping season.

Chase was in a foul mood and spoiling for a fight when he heard his cousin step into the reception area from the elevator. Owen was whistling, as if he had not a care in the world.

Chase grabbed the paper and got up.

Owen was at the basketball hoop that Chase had had reinstalled. The reception area also had been repainted from nondescript beige to a vibrant red...the same shade Chase was seeing at the moment.

“Can I have a word with you in private?” he asked Owen.

Owen dribbled the ball twice before taking his shot. It hit the rim and bounced off. Chase captured the rebound. “Now.”

“I guess it was too much to hope that the changes you made around here meant you were no longer such a stick in the mud.”

Chase let the comment slide. He had more important issues to discuss.

“Have you seen this?” he said as soon as they were in Chase’s office. He tossed the wadded up newspaper at his cousin.

“More bad news, I take it,” Owen replied, throwing it in the trash can without a second glance.

“How did you guess? Or maybe you don’t need to guess. Maybe you know exactly what the article says.”

“What in the hell is that supposed to mean?” Gone was Owen’s easygoing smile. He was pissed. That made two of them.

“Like you don’t know,” Chase snarled.

“If you’re going to accuse me of something, be a man and come right out and say it.”

Fine, Chase thought. He moved forward until he and his cousin stood nose-to-nose. “I think you’re the one who gave or sold our information to Kellerman.”

“You think I’m the leak?”

To Chase’s surprise, Owen didn’t appear defensive as much as...hurt? He had to be wrong.

“Tell me you’re not.”

“And you’ll believe me? Right?” Owen snorted. “I could swear on my mother’s grave and it wouldn’t change your mind.”

“I want to trust you, but let’s face it. You haven’t given me many reasons to over the years.”

“Saint Chase.” Owen poked him in the chest. “The upstanding Trumbull to whom I’ve always come a distant second.”

“Your jealousy has gotten old. For God’s sake, Owen, the past is the past. We’re adults now. Act like one. This company needs you. Elliot needs you.”

“Don’t talk to me about my father and what he needs. While you were in California a lot of things changed.” Owen’s rage boiled up and over. “And then you came back, riding to the rescue when the bottom fell out. Saint Chase. But even you can’t make this right. In fact, the more you try to keep my father on, the worse off this company will be.”

“What in the hell are you talking about?”

“I’m pretty sure I know who the leak is.”

Shocked that his cousin was not only admitting that he now believed there was a leak, but that he knew the person’s identity, Chase demanded, “Why haven’t you said anything?”

“Because...it doesn’t matter.”

“How can you say that? Whoever it is needs to be fired. Hell, they need to be prosecuted. They’ve cost this company hundreds of thousands of dollars, perhaps even millions.”

Owen met his gaze.

“The leak is my dad, Chase. He’s the one who has been giving Kellerman the inside scoop on the hot products coming down the pipeline.”

“No! You’re wrong.”

“I’m not. I wish I were, but...” Owen shook his head. “I had Kellerman followed after the T. rex fiasco. Did you know that he goes for regular walks in the park?”

“What?”

“When I questioned Dad about it, it was clear he sometimes forgot that he and Roy are competitors rather than friends or partners. My guess was that Dad was innocently sharing information with Roy.”

“And Roy wouldn’t be above using it given their history.”

“Or mentioning to people in the industry that Elliot was going senile.”

Chase swore softly. It added up. “Why didn’t you tell me, Owen? You knew I suspected a leak.”

“First, I didn’t have irrefutable proof that Dad was sharing information.” His cousin bristled then. “Besides, he’s my father. I’m capable of dealing with him without either your help or your interference.”

“By buying him a treadmill in an attempt to keep him from going for walks and then siding with the board to oust him?”

Owen snarled, “And what would you have done? You refused to face the fact that Dad’s memory had become an issue. He’s no longer capable of running the company. Hell, without Dermott, he might not be capable of living independently much longer. Don’t you think it kills me to see him like this? Now that Mom is gone, he’s all I have.”

Chase had said something similar to Ella. Apparently, both he and Owen had forgotten that they also had each other. Now was not the time to figure out if they could salvage their old relationship or forge a new one now that they were adults. But they did have to put aside their differences, past and present, to do what was best for the man who raised them both.

“If we were to get him some help...” Chase couldn’t go on. When he glanced at Owen, his cousin’s eyes were bright, too.

“Maybe. But right now, he needs to step down so that we can save his legacy.”

“From the beginning, he’s seen the wake as his swan song,” Chase said slowly. Sometimes it had seemed as if Chase were fighting harder to save Elliot’s position than Elliot was. Maybe, despite his declining mental state, part of his uncle had known it was time to step down.

“It might be a good time to make an official announcement,” Owen said. “Especially since the full board will be there and so will the media.”

Chase nodded. “I’ll mention it to Ella. She’s planning a retrospective of Elliot’s career. It would make sense to do it right before that.”

For the first time in a long time, the cousins were in agreement.

* * *

Chase looked like hell. That was Ella’s first thought when she got off the elevator. He stood in the penthouse’s foyer, his complexion ashen, his features pinched. He’d called three hours earlier from the clinic where he and Owen had taken Elliot to be evaluated by a team of specialists including neurologists and endocrinologists. They hadn’t given Elliot a chance to refuse. They’d used his confusion to their advantage, as Ella had suggested. It was for the best, although looking at Chase right now, she wished it hadn’t been necessary. The man was gutted.

She didn’t wait for him to speak. Instead, she rushed forward and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him to her to offer the only comfort she could.

“Hard day?” she asked after a moment.

“And a long one.”

Arm in arm, they walked into the living room, where they settled on the couch. “What’s the diagnosis?”

“They don’t have all the test results back yet. A vitamin deficiency has been ruled out. As has stress and grief over my aunt’s death, although both likely exacerbated any underlying condition.”

“What about Alzheimer’s?” She held her breath.

“It’s still in the running, but they’re also checking to see if a metabolic disorder could be the culprit.”

He named off a couple different kinds of conditions that might be the cause.

“If it is, would it be reversible?”

“Maybe, but not necessarily. It would depend on the amount of brain damage that has occurred.” He swore before saying again, “Brain damage. God! If I’d gotten him to the doctor sooner—”

“Don’t! Don’t do that to yourself.”

They sat in silence for several minutes, holding hands.

Then Ella asked, “What happens at the company now?”

Gaze fixed on the ceiling, Chase said, “The board already had plans to vote on Elliot’s removal as CEO. I’m pretty sure they had the votes to do it. Owen and I have informed the members of Elliot’s plans to step down on his own.”

“He’s still okay with that?” she asked.

“He is, especially since he gets to do it at the wake on his own terms.”

“Going out with a bang,” she murmured.

“Yeah. I have little doubt the stock will rebound several points once the official announcement is made.”

That was good news, but the current situation made it impossible to celebrate.

“Will you take over Elliot’s position?”

It was what his uncle wanted, she knew, even if ultimately it wasn’t Elliot’s call. But Chase shook his head. “Owen will. You know, I think he’ll do a good job.”

For the past few weeks, the cousins had been working in concert. A truce had been called. A new bond, albeit a fragile one, was being forged. Ella was glad the cousins were no longer feuding, just as she was glad that the company’s fortunes would soon start improving, but she couldn’t help but be worried about what the future held for her and Chase.

With the leak plugged and a new executive at the helm in New York, surely it would be only a matter of time before Chase returned to his job heading up Trumbull’s offices on the West Coast.

For one wild moment, she considered returning with him. She could plan parties anywhere. But reality intruded. Ella’s father was here, and Oscar needed her. Besides, Chase hadn’t asked her to go. While she had succeeded in tumbling head over high heels in love with him, and she knew he liked her—a lot—he hadn’t used the big L-word to describe his feelings, nor had he hinted at a future together.

C
for casual, she reminded herself.

In this instance,
C
did not stand for commitment.

* * *

With one week to go before Elliot’s party, Ella was spending most of her waking hours putting out fires, from revising the number of confirmed attendees thanks to late-arriving RSVPs, to meeting with the company hired to construct the custom platform to go over the inground pool. The one delivered was the wrong size—too narrow by three feet.

If not for massive quantities of caffeine, she wouldn’t have the energy to get out of bed in the mornings, especially after the nights she spent with Chase.

The man was inventive, she thought with a sly smile as she recalled their bedroom adventures from the previous evening.

Afterward, since she had a meeting not far from there in the morning, she’d stayed over at his penthouse. She was alone in it now. Chase had already left for his office. Ella finished up the cup of coffee he’d so thoughtfully brewed for her, and was on her way to the elevator when his phone rang. Figuring it was him, she answered without glancing at the caller ID. But it wasn’t Chase. It was a woman.

“Hi. This is Danica Fleming. May I speak to Chase Trumbull, please?”

Danica Fleming? Why did that name ring a bell?

“I’m sorry,” Ella replied. “You just missed him. May I take a message?”

Okay, so Ella made the offer not only to be polite, but because her curiosity was begging to be satisfied.

“That’s all right,” the woman replied. “I was just wondering how things are working out for his uncle’s party.”

Far from being satisfied, Ella’s curiosity was now good and piqued.

“Who did you say you were again?” she asked.

“Danica Fleming from Fleming Event Planning Services.”

No wonder the name had seemed familiar. The outfit was one of the largest and best known planning services in Manhattan. And Chase had been in touch with its owner about his uncle’s Irish wake?

“From what I know, everything is working out fine,” Ella told her.

“That’s terrific. I hope the suggestions I passed along helped.” Danica chuckled before confiding, “He was pretty concerned that the inexperienced young woman his uncle insisted on using was in way over her head.”

“She’s pretty green,” Ella managed around the lump in her throat.

And clueless, she thought. All of the praise he’d heaped on her efforts in recent weeks along with his encouragement now rang insincere. And those
suggestions,
some of which Ella had implemented, they’d come from a veteran planner. A planner for whose expertise he surely was paying.

Ella could understand why Chase had done it. She had been in well over her head at the beginning. Hell, maybe she still was, although she’d begun to think that she had clawed her way to the surface through sheer determination and had been treading water quite well for a newbie.

His lack of faith wouldn’t have hurt so much if they weren’t involved. If she hadn’t fallen in love with him.

But they were involved. She had fallen in love. And she’d hoped, apparently foolishly, that he might be falling in love with her, too. But how could Chase love her and fail to be honest with her about this?

He’d gone behind her back. Even now, with Elliot set to announce his retirement, Trumbull’s stock getting ready to rebound and the wake no longer in danger of becoming the PR fiasco, Chase still hadn’t been truthful.

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