After the Party

by Jackie Braun

  * * *

  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 migh
t 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.

  Even worse than deceiving her, he didn’t believe in her.

  After hanging up, Ella felt sick. But she had an appointment with the caterer and scores of other details to see to between now and that evening. Because she wanted to sit down on Chase’s couch—the very couch on which they had cuddled together to watch a movie the previous night—and have a good cry, she straightened her spine, grabbed her purse and punched the button for the elevator.

  She would be damned if she would fall apart now.

  * * *

  “This is a nice surprise,” Chase said when Ella tapped at his office door later that afternoon.

  He probably wasn’t going to think so after he heard what she had to say, but she worked up a smile. “Got a minute?”

  “That’s about all. Owen and I have a conference call scheduled with the new head of the California office.”

  That took the wind out of her sails. “The new head of the—”

  “California office.” Chase grinned. “I’ve decided to stay in New York.”

  Her traitorous heart thumped with joy. If not for the call she’d intercepted, she might have made a fool out of herself and assumed that his feelings for her played a role in his decision. She knew better.

  “That’s nice. I’m happy for you,” she replied, keeping her tone neutral. “Your family’s here.”

  “More than that is here,” he replied.

  “Well, sure. The company’s headquarters.”

  Chase frowned. “Ella? Is everything okay?”

  “Why do you ask?”

  “I guess I thought the news would be greeted with a little more enthusiasm than that.”

  “I’m all out of enthusiasm,” she shot back.

  He nodded, as if he understood. “You’re under a lot of stress right now. Let me guess. More RSVPs have trickled in since you gave the final count to the caterer this morning. Did you round up the number by a couple dozen like I suggested?” he asked.

  Ella gritted her teeth. “Did you suggest that?”

  “Yes. Just this morning.” He sounded confused with a side helping of wary thrown in.

&n
bsp; “Oh. I thought maybe the suggestion had come from Danica.”

  Ella watched the color drain from his face. If he denied it now, she’d...she’d... Okay, she wasn’t sure what she would do, but it wasn’t going to be pleasant for either of them.

  Chase didn’t deny it. He nodded and said, “Danica Fleming.”

  “That’s right. The owner of the highly respected Fleming Event Planning Services.”

  “Ella, I can ex—”

  She cut him off. He could explain in a minute. First, she needed to recite the pithy monologue she’d worked out on the cab ride over.

  “She called your home this morning. I picked up, thinking it might be you. Imagine my surprise when, after Danica identified herself, she asked how the—and I quote—inexperienced party planner your uncle had insisted on hiring was making out. Oh, and she wanted to know if the suggestions she’d given you to give me had helped.”

  “Ella—”

  “When did you hire her, Chase?”

  “It doesn’t matter when. What matters is that you’ve proved yourself more than capable of handling the event.”

  “Proved?” She recoiled as if slapped. “I didn’t realize I had to prove anything to you.”

  To herself, sure. And to Elliot since he was her client. But to Chase? To the man she loved?

  “That came out wrong,” he said, rising and coming around his desk. But she stepped away when he reached for her. “What I meant is, for a woman who had never planned a party before putting together dinner for eight in my penthouse a little over a month ago, you’ve done an outstanding job. I’ve been amazed by your attention to detail and intuitive sense of what’s needed to be done. The way you’ve handled vendors and the bargains you’ve struck. You’re a natural.”

  “A natural,” she scoffed. “Right. You consider me such a natural that you’ve had a seasoned professional waiting in the wings in case I screwed up.”

  “It’s not like that,” he began.

  “It’s exactly like that, Chase. For all of your talk, you haven’t thought I could do this.” God, that hurt. Ella’s chest ached and tears threatened. She refused to shed them. Not here. Not now. Not in front of the man she loved. A man who apparently had as little faith in her as Bernadette and Camilla and the other people from Ella’s past.