Authors: Cydney Michele; Rax Lutishia; Grant Lovely
Crush (13 page)
10
“A cell phone?” Lois’s expression was baffled. Chaz owned an iPad, an iPhone, a smartphone, and two BlackBerrys . . . that she knew of.
“Yes, a prepaid. Make sure it has texting capabilities. I’ll be in court all afternoon. If you leave before I get back, just place it in the top desk drawer.”
“It’s none of my business, Mr. Covington, but . . .”
“Most of what I do is your business, Lois. What would you like to know?”
“Does this have to do with the letters?”
“Yes. I want to communicate with whomever this is, but don’t want any way for said communication to be traced back to me. Up the ante for both of us and hopefully get this person to reveal who they are.” Chaz began shuffling papers and placing files into his briefcase. “Is there something else you have for me?” he asked, after noticing that Lois remained seated.
“Uh, well, I have some ideas about who the person could be, about who’s sending these letters.”
“So do I, and I’d like for us to discuss this. If you can work late, I’ll probably be back around six thirty. On second thought, why don’t we make it a dinner meeting? How about McCormick & Schmick’s, seven o’clock?”
“Okay.” Lois quickly exited Chaz’s office, wanting to hide her sudden giddiness. She knew this offer was strictly business, but this knowledge didn’t stop her heart from skipping a beat. She’d eaten with Chaz several times when he was deep into a case and worked through lunch. But those occurrences always happened in the office. This was almost like a date, and Lois could count on one hand the times she’d been on one of those.
Lois pulled into the restaurant parking lot at six forty-five. She viewed herself in the mirror and wished she had makeup, or something to make her look less plain. She remembered a pair of earrings that were in the glove compartment, stowed there because once out of the house, she’d thought them too flashy for choir rehearsal.
But they’ll work with this,
she thought. She put them on and turned her head this way and that. The Swarovski crystals added a bit of festiveness to her otherwise drab gray dress with a white Peter Pan collar. Lois looked at her watch, then in the mirror again. “It will have to do.”
But they’ll work with this,
she thought. She put them on and turned her head this way and that. The Swarovski crystals added a bit of festiveness to her otherwise drab gray dress with a white Peter Pan collar. Lois looked at her watch, then in the mirror again. “It will have to do.”
Chaz arrived thirty minutes later, looking like a million bucks. He’d been in court all day, yet looked as fresh as a spring breeze. He wearily sat down in the booth, blessing Lois with a smile. “Sorry I’m late.”
“It’s okay. How was court?”
“Long. Sometimes I wonder if this trial will ever end.”
“They’re playing hardball, huh?”
Chaz’s response was interrupted by an approaching waiter. He placed down the menus and took drink requests. Chaz ordered a scotch on the rocks. Lois ordered iced tea.
Chaz loosened his tie as he sat back against the booth’s cool leather. “You don’t drink, do you? Alcohol, that is.”
“No.”
“Is that because of your religious beliefs or that you don’t like the taste?”
“I’ve never tasted it.”
“You’ve never had a drink, ever?”
Lois shook her head.
Chaz wasn’t much of a drinker himself, but was still surprised in this day and age to know someone who’d never tasted liquor. He found himself wondering if there were other things that Lois hadn’t tasted. “You know, Lois, I realize that while I’m well versed in your professional attributes and work history, I know very little about Lois the person. Who are you?” An impish smile indicated he was joking.
“Not much to tell, really. I grew up here in Chicago, am an only child, and my life pretty much revolves around work and church.”
“Ah, come on. You’re a young, vibrant woman. Surely you make time for pleasure every once in a while.”
“Not really.”
“So, you don’t have a boyfriend?”
“No.” Lois was glad the waiter chose that moment to deliver their drinks. She felt uncomfortable sharing her personal life, or lack thereof, with someone like Chaz, who she knew for a fact had a social calendar that was overbooked, and women coming out the proverbial ying-yang. As soon as the waiter had taken their meal orders, Lois changed the subject. “Did you get the cell phone I left in your desk drawer?”
“Yes, thank you.”
“I chose an out-of-state number, to further shield you from being found out.”
“The person will pretty much know it’s me, Lois,” Chaz said with a chuckle. “They just won’t be able to prove it with hard evidence. Hence text messages, instead of phone calls—it could be anyone’s hands on the keyboard.”
“Oh, right.”
“Now,” Chaz said, crossing his arms, “who are your suspects in this letter-writing scheme?”
“Well.” Lois took a sip of her tea. “It could be Gina.”
“Gina? Hmm.” Chaz leaned forward, stroked his chin. “She’s quite the flirt, I’ll admit that.”
“She has a huge crush on you.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes. She’s always talking about how she’d like to . . . go out with you.”
“Gina talks a lot. But your suspicion is valid. Have you considered anyone else?”
Lois shared her thoughts about Elizabeth Stein; Chaz’s ex-wife, Jennifer; and Delicia Smith.
Chaz listened intently without comment. “Except for Delicia, I’ve considered the women you mentioned,” he said, when Lois became silent. “But honestly, Lois, it could be anyone.” Chaz shared his thoughts about a sixty-year-old socialite who’d chased him for years; the prosecuting attorney who tried to seduce him in the courthouse parking lot; and several women with whom he’d had brief, nonsexual dating encounters. “I’ve had my share of zealous suitors over the years,” Chaz finished. “But this is a new experience.”
The two engaged in small talk as they finished their meals. Lois ate the last bite of her grilled swordfish. She finished her tea, wiped her mouth, and looked at Chaz. “There’s another possibility,” she said.
“Who?”
“Naomi,” Lois whispered.
“Who?” Chaz had speared the last of his prime ribeye steak, but placed the uneaten forkful on the plate when he heard Lois’s answer.
Lois cleared her throat. “Naomi Stone.”
Fifteen years of courtroom cool was evidenced in Chaz’s unchanged expression. Underneath, he waded through a myriad of emotions. Having Lois walk in on him pounding Naomi had been his singularly most embarrassing career moment. But there was more. Chaz felt that Naomi was his one true love. She was also proving to be the most elusive. When he’d gotten the message yesterday that she’d called, he’d been over the moon. It had been a long time since he’d heard from her, and he had no idea of her whereabouts. They’d talked on the phone for two hours, but when Chaz suggested they get together, Naomi declined, using work and an early flight out as the excuse for rejection. Lois’s answer had shocked Chaz, but now, looking at it objectively, she could be right. There was something about Naomi’s mysterious persona that could very well support this kind of behavior. That and the fact that Naomi had a kinky side, one that knew Chaz would be totally turned on by seemingly anonymous sex talk.
The more Chaz thought about it, the more he thought Lois was on to something. But this was a thought Chaz kept to himself. “I’m still mortified at what you saw that day,” he said at last. “That was very uncharacteristic behavior, an action that hasn’t been repeated.”
“Do you think it could be her? Do you think Naomi could be the one writing those letters?”
“That’s one of the reasons I asked for the prepaid phone, so that I can offer my cell number, get the number of whoever’s behind this, and have it traced. I believe then the game will escalate. Hopefully, I can use my courtroom skills to trip them up in some way, to cause whoever this is to reveal their identity.”
“In a way, I hope it’s Pete Bennett.”
“Why do you say that?”
“A fight in the courtroom may be easier to win than one in the bedroom.”
“Ha! There’s a reason I hired you, darling. You’re top notch.”
“Thank you.” Lois lowered her head, embarrassed. Chaz’s compliments often left her flustered—partly because she wasn’t used to receiving attention from men, but mostly because of how she secretly felt about this particular man.
They left the restaurant shortly afterward. Chaz headed to the gym for a much-needed, stress-reducing workout. Lois headed for the church to pick up the outline for a program she’d agreed to type up. These two people were headed in different directions, but they had their minds on the same question: would Chaz find out the sender of the nasty notes? Neither was sure about the answer.
11
Chaz felt better. The workout was just what he’d needed. Now, driving home from the gym, he felt calm, relaxed. Before dinner, he’d not looked forward to preparing the closing arguments for court tomorrow. But exercising had released those blessed endorphins. His mind was alert, and he was actually looking forward to composing a compelling statement that would lead to victory.
Chaz was halfway through said argument when his cell phone rang. He started to send it to voice mail, but smiled once he looked at the caller ID. “Baby . . .”
“Hey, Chaz.” Naomi Stone’s sultry voice poured into Chaz’s ear like maple syrup—sticky and sweet. “Sorry I couldn’t rendezvous with you. It’s been far too long.”
“That it has.” Chaz rose from his leather swivel chair behind the desk, walked into his living room, and reclined on a chaise. “Where are you?”
“Vancouver.”
“Is that where you live now?”
“No.”
“Is where you live a secret?”
Naomi chuckled softly. “No.” And then,“I still reside in Los Angeles. But I’m thinking of moving again . . . to Chicago.”
“Baby, I’d love that.”
“It doesn’t mean . . .”
“Did I say it meant anything? Not that I don’t want it to. You know how I feel about you, Naomi. I don’t see why you keep adding bricks to the wall around that special heart of yours.”
“I told you why. My ex took me through changes that have taken me years to work through. I don’t think I could endure that kind of pain again, and with you . . .”
“With me?” Chaz asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
“I know I keep running away from us. But it’s because you move me in ways I’ve never been moved before. Even after all this time, I get wet just thinking about you . . . hard, strong, pulsating inside me.”
Chaz sat up. “Pulsating, you say?”
“Yes,” Naomi murmured.
“Interesting choice of words.” Chaz imagined Naomi pleasuring herself, but remained focused. Naomi’s words sounded suspiciously close to those in some of the letters he’d received.
“Yes, Chaz. I’ve tried to tamp down these feelings, to tell myself differently but . . . I want you.”
Chaz’s eyes narrowed.
What type of game are you playing, my sweet?
Or was she playing a game? If Naomi was the letter writer, he’d be delighted. Given her skittish nature and the traumatic past that involved domestic violence, her tentative approach to renewed, ongoing intimacy could be understood. But if it wasn’t her, he could utter a revelation that would be TMI for this tenuous relationship.
What type of game are you playing, my sweet?
Or was she playing a game? If Naomi was the letter writer, he’d be delighted. Given her skittish nature and the traumatic past that involved domestic violence, her tentative approach to renewed, ongoing intimacy could be understood. But if it wasn’t her, he could utter a revelation that would be TMI for this tenuous relationship.
Chaz knew he had to play his cards right. “You want me, huh?” He lay back on the chaise and began idly stroking himself.
“Umm.”
“How do you want me, Naomi?”
“I love it when you lick me, like candy . . . when your body covers mine. I feel protected and secure. Lately, not a day goes by that I don’t think of you, of us, and how good it was the few times we were together.”
“What are you wearing?”
“A thong. Nothing else.”
Chaz closed his eyes, his manhood hardened. “What color?”
“Red.”
The same color as the one that arrived at my office!
“Baby, we both want the same thing. If I could, I’d come to you. But I’ve got trials back to back. I can’t get away right now. Can you come to me?”
“Baby, we both want the same thing. If I could, I’d come to you. But I’ve got trials back to back. I can’t get away right now. Can you come to me?”
A long pause, and then, “Yes.”
“When, Naomi?”
A longer pause. “Soon.”
After ending the call with Naomi, Chaz needed another shower. The mutual masturbation had been pleasurable, but it had also made him acutely aware of his divorced status. He showered quickly and was thankful for the work that took his mind off himself for the next hour and a half. But when he lay down to sleep, the thoughts returned.
I’m lonely. I’m ready to do it again.
Chaz had enjoyed married life. He’d met Jennifer when he was fresh out of law school, twenty-five years old, already on a solid path to success. He’d been recruited by a small yet prestigious law firm that specialized in personal-injury lawsuits. It was also a firm whose partners were well connected, both socially and politically. They adored Chaz, and showed him the ropes that he quickly and efficiently grasped. This is where he’d first met Pete Bennett, twenty years his senior, a fading star watching one on the rise. A lawsuit involving a politician’s niece had come to the firm. Pete chomped at the bit for that case, made his desire known. They gave it to Chaz, the 4.0 “grad with honors” upstart. Chaz won the case and a political comrade, huge chips in Chicago where politics ruled. Pete left the law firm shortly thereafter and, five years later, so did Chaz—to start his own firm.
Chaz had enjoyed married life. He’d met Jennifer when he was fresh out of law school, twenty-five years old, already on a solid path to success. He’d been recruited by a small yet prestigious law firm that specialized in personal-injury lawsuits. It was also a firm whose partners were well connected, both socially and politically. They adored Chaz, and showed him the ropes that he quickly and efficiently grasped. This is where he’d first met Pete Bennett, twenty years his senior, a fading star watching one on the rise. A lawsuit involving a politician’s niece had come to the firm. Pete chomped at the bit for that case, made his desire known. They gave it to Chaz, the 4.0 “grad with honors” upstart. Chaz won the case and a political comrade, huge chips in Chicago where politics ruled. Pete left the law firm shortly thereafter and, five years later, so did Chaz—to start his own firm.
He’d known he wanted Jennifer with him, and after dating five years, Chaz and Jennifer got married. His mother had opposed the union; told him she didn’t have a good feeling about her future daughter-in-law. But Chaz was deeply in love. They hadn’t planned it, but Jennifer got pregnant the first year they were married. A daughter was born two years after the son. Jennifer became a full-time mom.
Later, Chaz would realize that was when the problems started. He worked seventy-, eighty-hour weeks building his practice, leaving a former party girl with not enough attention and too much time on her hands. By the time he noticed, it was too late. She didn’t deny the affair he’d discovered she was having with a radio station’s heartthrob disc jockey. The affair devastated Chaz, especially since Jennifer made it known that she wanted to be with the DJ. Shortly afterward, Jennifer found out that the DJ wanted to be with her . . . and a few other women as well. Belatedly, she realized the good thing she’d lost and tried to get it back. But it was too late. The marriage was over.
As sleep eluded Chaz, he continued to remember all the way back to his childhood, where he’d grown up in a traditional family. His father, who died when Chaz was a junior in college, had been a welder by day and a barber in the evenings and on weekends. His mother stayed at home until he and his two sisters were teenagers, and then worked at the local Goodwill—a place that had helped clothe them when all the kids were young—until her death from a heart attack five years ago. He’d missed her immensely while going through his separation and divorce, and now, he missed the overabundance of love that had exuded from the Covington household, especially between his parents; the love that had molded and shaped the man he’d become. Chaz had one last thought before sleep finally enveloped him:
I want a love like that.
I want a love like that.
Other books
Tangled Redemption by Tina Christopher
Campbell by Starr, C. S.
Out Of The Ashes by Diana Gardin
The Mysterious Abductions by Tracey Hecht
Splat! by Eric Walters
Hunted (FBI Heat Book 1) by Marissa Garner
Running Out of Time by Margaret Peterson Haddix
The First Casualty by Gregg Loomis
Operation Nassau by Dorothy Dunnett