by Isabel Jolie
Jackson and Chase talk in hushed tones, then Jackson claps Chase on the back and pushes him toward Mason, who is already shuffling cards.
Delilah diverts my attention away from Chase with a touch on my wrist. I recognize her eager expression. Fear rises as I anticipate the round of twenty questions she’s going to hurl my way. I know my backstory backward and forward, but still, this is my first UC op, and every day feels like a test. Only, if I screw up, I’m not going to get a briefing from an FBI trainer.
“So, you and Chase?”
I automatically glance back to see if he heard her. He’s in the middle of shuffling cards and chatting with Mason. I don’t think he’s listening, but still, I give Delilah a shush-it look.
Anna and Olivia smirk.
“We’re not a couple.”
All three women lean in.
“So, you’re just friends?” Delilah asks, her voice rising an octave.
“We’re colleagues. And he’s asked me out on a date. Look, there’s a lot of pressure when you’re going away with someone for a weekend. Please don’t add more.” Be honest when you can. And that right there is about as honest as a girl can be, and what someone in my shoes would say. I soften my words with a weak smile.
“We won’t,” Anna reassures me while throwing a pointed look to Delilah. “I’m so happy you came. I can tell he likes you.” She holds up her hand defensively, probably in reaction to my visual response to her comment. “I know, it’s all new. You work together, too. I get it. Even if nothing works out with you guys, I’m glad you came this weekend.”
“Yes, please don’t let us pressure you,” Olivia adds. “We never see Chase with anyone, so we’re excited. But, while we like him, we would never hold it against you if things didn’t work out with him. Chase is, well…” Olivia turns to Anna as if asking her to complete her sentence.
“Chase is a close friend to all of us. But he can be a lot to take. I’ve known him for a long time. Like Olivia said, if it doesn’t work out, we won’t blame you.”
“You know, I can hear you guys.” Chase interjects. His voice rings with annoyance, but he’s grinning as he shifts cards in his hand.
Anna lifts her shoulders as if to say, whatever.
“Where are you from originally?” Delilah asks. And here it goes, twenty questions.
“Virginia.”
“Oh, really? Jackson’s from Virginia, too. What part?” Jackson and Sam are engaged in conversation, and he doesn’t turn when Anna offers up his past. I picked Virginia as my cover story because I’ve lived in DC, and I’m familiar with it, but I don’t know if I’m prepared to deal with someone from the same supposed hometown. Shit. I should’ve spent more time reviewing the backgrounds of these people.
“Richmond.” If memory serves, Jackson’s not from the city, but if he is, Richmond is large enough it would be believable that we didn’t know each other.
“Ah, Jackson’s from Fredericksburg.” Anna must not know much about Virginia, because she drops that line of questioning. “How are you liking New York? Are you getting settled in?”
In reality, I haven’t been to my real apartment since starting this case. Since it’s filled with boxes that need to be unpacked, I haven’t felt the need. But I do miss having my stuff. The impersonal apartment the FBI has set up doesn’t feel like home.
“I’m getting settled. You wouldn’t know that if you saw my apartment, but I really like the gym Chase introduced me to, and I’m getting to know my neighborhood. I found a cleaners I like, a Starbucks… I’m building my collection of menus.”
“She likes the gym because we go to the best gym in Manhattan,” Chase offers with a grin.
The others must be used to him spouting off about the gym because they ignore him.
“Do you have family in the area?” For this assignment, we’re keeping it simple.
“No. My parents live in London, and I don’t have any siblings. What about you all? Do you have family in the area?”
This line of questioning does the trick of deflecting attention away from my story. Delilah is from New Orleans, Olivia is from Connecticut, and Anna is from Savannah. That discussion leads to updates on siblings. It sounds as if they know each other’s family members. All the talk has me missing my sister and realizing it’s been a long time since I saw my parents.
Throughout our conversation, which, truth be told, mostly consists of the other three ladies talking and laughing, I catch Chase watching us. He’s quick to look away when we connect. Mason’s a veterinarian, so I know there’s no work talk going on between the two of them. From the bits of conversation I overhear, both are trash talking to each other. Well, Chase is about ninety percent of the trash talk, and Mason adds a ten percent sliver.
I can’t hear anything from Sam and Jackson’s table, but there’s a printed contract on the table between them, and it appears Jackson is highlighting various points in the document. From what I understand, they work together closely, with Jackson as general counsel for the venture capital group Sam runs, so it’s not surprising they are taking advantage of this time on the plane. Not once do they engage Chase in their discussion.
After we land, we exit in pairs. Sam and Olivia remain on the plane longer than the rest of us to speak to the crew. As we descend the steps to the tarmac, Chase wiggles his eyebrows with his signature I’m-a-troublemaker grin.
“Ready to dance?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
Seventeen
Chase
* * *
The boutique hotel Maggie picked for out-of-town guests exceeds my expectations. As far as small-town hotels go, The Black Hawk in downtown Cedar Falls has a pretty hip vibe. We all agree to meet downstairs at Bar Winslow to check out the hyped stuffed olive martini bar after we drop off our bags in the room. The plan is to have a drink then head over to the rehearsal dinner, which is being catered in a private room somewhere in the hotel.
Sydney seems taken with the restored details in the hotel and points out the original penny tile on the lobby floor, prompting me to ask, “Are you into old homes? Restoration and stuff?”
Her face contorts as if I’ve asked a difficult question and she has to think about it. “I appreciate architecture. I love buildings that have been around for centuries. So much in the United States is contemporary. It’s refreshing to find historic buildings here.”
“Do you travel a lot outside of the U.S.?” I guide her up to the bar, and Sydney never answers me because Maggie comes out of nowhere and throws her arms around Sydney like they’re best friends.
“I’m so glad you came,” she squeals. “This weekend is really going to be all about friends. Nothing super fancy. I do hope you guys enjoy yourselves. Across the street is this place called Cup of Joe that I recommend you visit for breakfast. And I don’t know if you noticed, but Main Street Cedar Falls is like a page out of a Norman Rockwell painting. We’re supposed to have great weather this weekend, and there are tons of great bike trails all around. The concierge can help you rent bikes. If you’re into that sort of thing, I highly recommend it.”
Even I can’t miss the bridal glow Maggie has. I’ve been to my fair share of weddings in New York, and I don’t think I’ve seen this level of enthusiasm in a bride before. She’s wearing a simple black sundress with tiny flowers on it. I scan the bar and spot Jason across the room, in a group of older adults. He’s positioned so he doesn’t lose sight of Maggie. I’m not really one to fawn over happy couples, but I have to admit these two are cute.
I excuse myself to order us drinks, and when I return, Maggie and Sydney are still talking. “Do you still keep in touch with Senator McLoughlin or anyone from your old company?” Sydney asks. I side-eye her because that’s a weird question. Maybe they haven’t had the easy stream of a conversation I thought they were having. Or maybe she has a bit of a fangirl crush. The senator splashes across my news and Twitter feed frequently. Rumors about affairs follow the guy, but nothing’s e
ver been substantiated, I don’t think. He doesn’t do it for me, but maybe to the ladies he’s a Casanova.
Jason steps up behind Maggie, and he answers for her. “No, she never had much to do with Senator McLoughlin, and thank goodness. That guy is a royal prick. Mark my words, it’s going to come out that man is a crook. Worst kind of politician.”
Maggie twists so she can better see Jason. “I don’t know why you’ve never liked him. I mean, I know you’re not a Republican, but he’s not that bad.”
Jason’s head vibrates slightly up and down as he answers, “Yeah, he is.” There’s a ruddiness to his cheeks that tells me he’s had more than one cocktail. “I looked over their books once for Maggie. Nothing added up. That charity is raising a lot of money, but he’s not donating anything. I’d bet it comes out he’s using funds from that charity to finance his campaigns. Mark my words. There’s gonna be some kind of scandal around that guy.” I read Page Six and Vanity Fair, and scandals already circle the guy, but I don’t share the knowledge.
Maggie slaps him on the chest. “That’s not true. He’s done great things for Chicago. He’s created places for families to stay when loved ones are in the hospital. And we, well, McLoughlin are one of the biggest donors for South Fork Research.”
“My point exactly. South Fork Research routinely loses money on patents. And the other source of donations from his so-called charity is for a company that buys up rundown property.”
“That’s to build much-needed housing for families near hospitals.” Maggie rolls her eyes and seems to vehemently disagree with Jason’s assessment.
My heartrate picks up pace. That’s another one of my fucking accounts at BB&E. It’s pro bono, so I’ve never even looked over Garrick’s work. Fuck. It never occurred to me to pay attention to a charity that raises money for cancer research.
“Isn’t McLoughlin Charity one of your accounts?” Sydney asks.
Jason sips his drink and inspects me over the rim of his glass.
“Pro bono.” Everyone looks at me like I’m speaking Greek. “They don’t pay us. We handle whatever they need to be done at no charge.”
“Do you do the work yourself?” Jason asks.
“No. Someone on my team.”
“Look over it, man. I’m telling you. And right after Maggie showed me those books, she got a job offer to move here.”
“You say that like it’s all related. Don’t be putting things in their heads. The non-profit world is a small world. Chicago was closer to family for me, so I was easy to recruit. You don’t have to be so suspicious of everyone.” He bends down and places a light kiss on her forehead.
She turns to us as he holds her tight against his side, and she explains. “He reads way too many John Grisham novels.”
My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I excuse myself. I scan through a long list of texts that have come in from Cooper. It’s all work-related. Questions he has. I suppose he must be wrapping up at the office before heading out for the weekend. There’s nothing that needs an immediate response.
Rhonda also sent a text telling me I have six tickets for a show at a club on Tuesday night if I want them. It’s not unusual for tickets to be floating around. I’m sure all the guys at the executive level decided they’d rather not go out on Tuesday night, so the tickets are moving down the totem pole. She’s gone home for the day, so there’s no need to respond to her either.
I return to the barroom and stand in the doorway. Sydney’s now standing with Anna and Delilah. Tonight she’s wearing low kitten heels that bring her to a few inches below my height. I haven’t seen her wear low heels before, and I like it. Her silky ebony bob shifts as her head tilts while she talks. There’s an elegance to her movement.
She glances over her shoulder and catches me watching her. I lift my drink in salute. Her glossy pink lips curve upwards, her only acknowledgment before she returns to her conversation with the girls.
“I can’t believe it, but it seems the great Chase Man has it bad for someone.” Jackson pops an olive into his mouth, smirking as he comes to stand beside me, angled so he too can watch the ladies.
“An appreciation of the female form is not the same thing as having it bad. And she’s a colleague.”
“What do you care if she’s a colleague? You’ve been thinking about leaving that place for years. And given what you emailed me, I don’t know why you’re still working there.” Yeah, neither do I.
“I don’t think I’m her type.”
Jackson thumps me on the chest. “Why would you say that? She’s stealing glances at you. You guys are in that flirty phase.”
“You think she’s checking me out?”
He lifts his shoulders as if he’s sifting through a file of observations. “Yeah, I’d say so. Anna thinks this could be the one for you.”
“Christ, Anna thinks every woman I come across could be the one.”
“No, that’s not true. Anna thinks every woman you come across and introduce her to could be the one. If she doesn’t get to meet them, she assumes they don’t mean anything to you.”
I look up at him. He’s wearing this shit-eating grin. He’s amused by this. ‘This’ being the prospect of me dating someone. I ignore him and return my gaze to Sydney.
“She’s out of my league.” I pop an olive in my mouth and watch her. “Class personified,” I add.
“So? The ones that are too good for you are the best ones. Make you work to be a better man. And since when do you worry about punching above your weight?”
I can’t hear what she’s saying, but Anna’s bending down to say something in Sydney’s ear, and I’d bet money she’s telling some classic “Chase story.” All three of them look over here and giggle. The whole scene brings back that stifling sensation I used to get watching sorority girls who treated me like I was a kid brother, or worse, a total joke.
Jackson looks thoroughly amused, and I have this urge to shove my fist into his stomach and wipe that annoying-as-hell grin off his face. “Hey, when are you gonna get the balls to propose to Anna?”
The grin fades. Boom. He takes half a step backward and slides one of his hands into his pants pocket.
“I had planned on doing it this weekend. Found this scenic trail near here. But then I realized if we got engaged, we’d be taking the spotlight off Maggie and Jason, and I know Anna wouldn’t want that.”
“You’ve had that ring a long-ass time.”
“I know.” He huffs. “It’s just now it’s been so long. It needs to be perfect.”
I’m about to tell him that I don’t think Anna has grand expectations, and she’d be happy with him simply asking her, but we’re interrupted by Maggie’s father announcing it’s time to make our way into the rehearsal dinner.
The room is set up with tables aligned to form a large rectangle. Sydney and I make our way around the rectangle, searching for the place cards with our names. In the center of the rectangle is a long table filled with candles of varying sizes. Low flower arrangements are set on all the tables. Sydney fingers me in the ribs and says she thinks the flowers are beautiful. I take another look at them to see what she likes. The colors are predominantly blue and some shade of pink. There’s a lot of greenery mixed in too.
“Is that what you like?”
“Hmmm?” she asks.
“Are those flowers your favorite?”
“Oh, I don’t know. I love flowers. These are Vanda orchids. Maggie said tomorrow at the wedding she’s using tons of daisies.”
“I could see that.” I don’t know a lot about flowers, but if I were to buy Maggie flowers, I’d probably go for something like a bunch of daisies.
We find our seats, and I pull Sydney’s chair out for her. She sits gracefully, straight up, erect. She has a long, lithe neck and angular facial features. She’s almost regal. If I were to buy her flowers, I think I’d look for white orchids. Yes, the same kind of potted arrangement my Mom crows over, so she could enjoy them for a long time.
&nb
sp; We sit there at the table for hours. Waiters keep our wine glasses full, almost everyone sitting at the table gets up to make a speech, and this rather annoying photographer in black walks around the circumference of the table snapping photos. I’m certain she caught me mid-chew more than once.
Sydney’s dark eyes glisten in the candlelight, as does her silky hair. She’s enamored by the speeches. She seems almost entranced. At times, her shoulders shift forward, and the red silk chemise she’s wearing slips forward too, revealing more of the curve of her round perfectly shaped breast and the edge of a black lace bra. I’m glad she’s here because if I didn’t have her to watch, I’d probably die of boredom.
At around ten p.m., the last of the speeches finally concludes, and it seems there are no more home videos of Maggie growing up to be shared. At one point, someone did say something about Jason’s parents no longer being alive, and that Maggie’s mom tried to pull together a video for him, but no one could locate photos. This person referred to it as being a shame, and all I could think was thank god. This dinner would have been twice as long. It was fun and all, in a “let’s sit around for a really long dinner” kind of way, but it’s after eleven on my internal time clock, and it’s been one hell of a day. One hell of a week, for that matter.
We say our goodnights to everyone and make our way to our historic—meaning stuffy—room. Sydney loves it, so it’s fine. And there are two queen beds, as promised. Exhaustion rolls over me. The countless glasses of wine and martinis take a toll.
We shift around each other in the bedroom the way friends would. I jump in the bathroom first, not to be rude, but out of necessity. I brush my teeth so she can take as long as she wants once I’m done.
When I exit the tiny bathroom, she carries a bundle of items and clothes in and closes the door. I quickly change out of my suit, slip on some pajama pants and a t-shirt, and slide into the cool, crisp sheets. We never discussed who was taking which bed, but I don’t expect she’ll care.
If I thought I actually had a chance with her, I’d probably stay up. Put on my A-game. But I’ve spent the entire night watching her, and I know without a doubt, that girl has no interest in me. And even if she did, if Jason’s right regarding his suspicions, then everything is way more fucked than I realized. Sydney’s the kind of girl who deserves a guy who can make her his sun and orbit around her, and my gut tells me that can’t be me. I do not have a good feeling about what’s coming down the pike. I see lawyers and conference rooms galore in my future.