“My father is a surgeon and my mother is a jewelry designer.”
Althea clutched her pearl necklace. “How fascinating. I have a seven o’clock business meeting, so I have to run, but I look forward to seeing you again soon, Chase. Tootles!”
Her family and friends climbed into the limousines and Demi sighed in relief.
“Demi, I feel terrible about what happened in Ibiza on Sunday and I wanted you to know how truly sorry I am for leaving your suite without saying goodbye...”
Rolling her eyes, she took her iPhone out of the pocket of her overalls, punched in her password and checked her email. Demi tightened her hold on her cell and peered intently at the screen. Reading the message from the president of the Hamptons Women’s Society caused excitement to flutter in the pit of her stomach. The organization wanted her to be the guest speaker at their annual tea in April and just the thought of hobnobbing with socialites, trophy wives, A-listers and successful businesswomen gave her an adrenaline rush.
“These are for you,” he said, extending his open arms. “I hope you like them.”
Demi kept her gaze on her iPhone. “No thanks. I hate balloons, flowers and chocolate.”
“Since when?” Chase wore a skeptical expression on his face. “On Saturday, I watched you eat not one, but two chocolate-fudge cupcakes when we had lunch, and when I tried to take one, you slapped my hand away.”
“That was then and this is now. I don’t want anything from you, so leave.”
His eyebrows knit together. “Oh, wow, you’re really mad at me—”
“Ya think? You played me in Ibiza and I’m disappointed in you,” she replied, unable to hide her frustration. “What did you think would happen when you came here? Did you think I would jump into your arms and kiss you passionately?”
His eyes brightened and a grin dimpled his cheeks. “That would be nice.”
“It’s not going to happen, so you can take your gifts, your weak-ass apology and that disarming smile of yours, and go back to your office.”
Demi tried to step past him but he stepped in front of her, blocking her path to the limousine.
“I saw the video you posted from the plane. I’m glad you’re interested in me, because I like you, too.”
“Then why did you leave my suite without saying goodbye?”
“I had to leave Ibiza in a hurry. I had a family emergency” he explained. “My mom had a heart attack on Sunday, so we packed our bags, hired a private jet and flew straight home.”
“And that’s the truth?”
“My mom’s name is Estelle Crawford and she’s in room 113 at Stony Brook Hospital.” Chase took his iPhone out of his back pocket and offered it to her. “If you don’t believe me, you can call the hospital and verify the information.”
Demi reached out and touched his arm. His honesty made all the difference, and now she wanted to support him in his time of need. “How is your mom doing now? Is she feeling better?”
“Yes, and hopefully she’ll be discharged by the end of the week.”
“Chase, that’s great. I hope she has a speedy recovery.”
“Me, too. Estelle is the foundation of our family. We’re nothing without her.”
Demi stared at him in awe, decided he was the sweetest man she had ever met. “I was right about you. You are a good guy trapped in a bad boy’s body!”
Chase chuckled and the sound of his loud, booming laugh gave her goose bumps.
“Thanks for the flowers.” Demi plucked the gifts out of his hands. “They’re stunning.”
“Like you,” he said smoothly. “I just wanted you to know I was thinking about you.”
Airport employees shouted at each other and zoomed by in luggage carts. A horn honked then Demi’s cell phone lit up with messages from her girlfriends, imploring her to kiss Chase. She wanted to, but wouldn’t. Not with her friends and family watching them from the limousine, critiquing every move she made. “I should go. Everyone’s waiting for me.”
“I know you’re probably tired from your flight, but can we go somewhere to talk?”
Demi hesitated, glanced at the limousine behind him. She wanted to say yes but she’d made plans with her friends and she wasn’t going to ditch them for Chase. If he wanted to see her, he’d have to fit into her schedule and not the other way around. “I have plans tonight, but I’m free next Wednesday if you want to meet up.”
“But that’s nine days away,” he argued. “I don’t think I can wait that long to see you.”
“I’m sorry, but I’m fully booked. I want to get everything out of life that I possibly can, and if that means working around the clock to achieve my dreams, then so be it.” For a split second she considered squeezing him in tomorrow, but dismissed the thought. Demi didn’t want to rearrange her schedule for a guy who’d already dissed her once.
“Put your number in my cell, so I can call you later,” he instructed, offering his iPhone.
Demi did and Chase promised to call her after he returned home from the hospital.
“Awesome,” she said, pleased by his words.
Moving closer, he gave her a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “Talk to you soon.”
Forcing her legs to move, Demi stepped past him and strode confidently toward the limousine. She was dying to know if he was watching her, but resisted the urge to turn around. The driver opened the rear door and Demi sank into her seat, smiling wide. Her girlfriends cheered and whistled as if they were sitting front row at a Beyoncé concert. “What’s the applause for?” she asked, admiring her flower arrangement.
“Girl,” Shante drawled, fanning her face with her passport, “you’re much stronger than me. If that chocolate hottie had touched me, I would have fainted at his feet!”
Chapter 14
“Honey, I’m home!” Chase joked, entering the master bedroom of his parent’s Bridgehampton estate, holding a bouquet of roses in one hand and a gift basket in the other. Soul music was playing and the song made Chase remember all the times he’d seen his parents slow dancing in the kitchen to the Motown classic. They were a perfect match and he admired their unwavering devotion to each other. His father was the head of the family, but Estelle was the glue that held them together, and he was relieved his mom was back home. “There’s the most beautiful woman I know.”
“What a pleasant surprise.” Estelle was in the canopy bed, propped up with fluffy pillows, drawing in a sketch pad. Fashion magazines, notebooks and jewelry catalogs covered the ivory sheets, and her Persian kittens were curled up at the foot of the bed, purring softly. Estelle looked regal in a silk turban and gold, embroidered caftan. Her face brightened as he crossed the room to her. “It’s good to see you, son.”
“Mom, how are you feeling?”
“Better now that you’re here. Now, come give your mother a hug.”
Leaning over, he kissed her on each cheek. “These are for you.”
“Thank you, honey.” Estelle buried her nose in the bouquet and inhaled, smiling as she admired the extravagant arrangement. “They’re lovely. Be a dear and put them by the window.”
Straightening to his full height, Chase glanced around the master bedroom. The aqua lamps, silk wallcoverings and ivory drapes gave the space a glamorous ambience. There were flowers everywhere—on the dresser, the armoire, the side tables, along the windowsill and fireplace—and the fragrant scent sweetened the air. It reminded him of the perfume Demi was wearing at the airport on Monday, and just the thought of her made him smile.
His thoughts returned to Monday. It had been three days since the “kidnapping,” but Chase still couldn’t believe what Katia and Mercedes had done.
Inside the taxi, he’d learned of their plan to drop him off at the airport to reunite with Demi, and had initially balked at the idea. But after watching the rest of the ten-minute video Demi had posted online, he’
d had a change of heart. He owed her an apology and liked the idea of surprising her at JFK even though they’d have an audience.
The women had given him strict instructions: apologize, ask Demi out, and get Geneviève’s autograph for Katia’s three-year-old niece. But the moment he’d seen Demi, he’d forgotten everything. He didn’t remember seeing Geneviève or anyone else. It didn’t matter; he’d succeeded in his mission and scored Demi’s number. He’d called her that night and every night since. Their conversations lasted for hours, and left him wanting more. She told great stories, made him laugh, and kept him guessing.
Demi was authentic and sincere, and she had a good head on her shoulders. He’d spent the morning coding, the afternoon in meetings and, if it were up to him, he’d see her every night of the week.
“It looks like a florist shop in here,” he said, putting the gifts on a side table.
Estelle beamed. “As you can see, I’m loved and appreciated by my friends, clients and associates. You should feel fortunate to call me mom.”
I am except for when you’re plotting and scheming with my ex. Chase wanted to talk to his mom about her friendship with Juliet, but he decided to broach the subject during his next visit. Chase scooped up the magazines, dumped them on the reading chair and sat on the king-size bed.
“Mom, what are you doing?” he asked, gesturing to the sketch pad nestled in her lap. Estelle enjoyed playing the role of the dutiful housewife, but she was an educated woman with an impressive résumé. “You’re supposed to be resting. Doctor’s orders.”
“No,” she corrected. “I’m supposed to be working. These designs aren’t going to create themselves, and I’m already behind schedule. I have several orders to fill by Easter and I don’t want to disappoint my clients.”
“And people wonder where I get my furious work ethic from. You’re tenacious.”
“I have to be. It wasn’t that long ago that black women were considered second-class citizens with no value, and I want to be a beacon of hope for my granddaughters, my community and the students at my alma mater...”
Chase nodded as she spoke. Every year his mom visited Rochester Institute of Technology and spoke to the freshman class about her experiences and offered a paid internship for honor roll students. “Mom, you’re a great example for the next generation, and I am incredibly proud of you, but you have to take it easy. You had a heart attack a few days ago—”
“I didn’t have a heart attack. I had a heart episode,” she insisted in a firm voice. “I needed medicine, and a brief hospital stay, but I’m fine now. As healthy as ever.”
A heart episode? he thought, pushing up the sleeves of his lightweight, nylon shirt. No, Mom, you had a heart attack and if the housekeeper hadn’t found you and given you emergency CPR you might not be be alive. Wanting his mom to know she couldn’t outsmart him, he reminded her of the conversation she’d had with her medical team only days earlier. “Dr. Martìnez prescribed two weeks of strict bed rest and a month off work.”
Estelle dismissed his words with a flick of her hand. “Nonsense. I’ll rest when I’m dead.”
Chase shuddered at the thought. It was tough watching his parents struggle with their health, and he wanted Estelle to take her doctor’s advice seriously. He feared if she continued pushing herself she’d end up back in the hospital—or worse. The ordeal had taken a huge toll on his father, too, but he did everything Estelle asked, including moving her home office into the master bedroom. Chase didn’t blame his dad. When it came to getting her way, Estelle could be relentless and Vernon was no match for his stubborn, opinionated wife of forty-two years.
Chase inclined his head and listened for a moment. His dad was on the main floor, relaxing in the great room, but Chase could hear his conversation loud and clear. He was on the phone, explaining the difference between a heart attack and a heart “episode” to the caller, and Chase realized his mom had everyone fooled, including their family. Estelle was in denial, acting as if nothing was wrong, and things wouldn’t get better until she faced the truth.
“It must have been scary waking up in the hospital with no recollection of what happened,” Chase said in a quiet voice, taking her hand in his own. “That’s how I felt after my horseback riding accident, but discussing my experience in group therapy helped immensely.”
Estelle puckered her lips. “Group therapy? I don’t want strangers knowing my personal business. The Hamptons is a small, close-knit community. I can’t sneeze without everyone knowing about it, so no thank you.”
“Then join a group therapy session in Queens or Manhattan,” he proposed. “I did, and it’s been incredibly worthwhile. Every time I go to group therapy, I learn new strategies and how to cope with the lingering effects of the accident.”
An upbeat song played on the stereo, drowning out his words. He snatched the remote control off the bed, pointed it at the entertainment unit and pressed the off button. Silence descended on the room and minutes passed before Estelle, spoke.
“I’ll think about it,” she said, gazing out the window.
“No, you’re going, and I’m taking you. I’ll pick you up on Friday at two o’clock.”
“Don’t you have to work?”
“Yes, but nothing matters more to me than supporting you, so I’ll leave the office early.”
Her face brightened. “I’m glad you feel that way, because I need you to do me a favor.”
“Sure, Mom, anything for you. What is it?”
“Take Juliet to Le Bernardin tonight and shower her with love and affection,” she instructed, a wistful expression on her face. “At the end of the night, bring her back to your estate and make love to her on a bed of red roses—”
Chase covered his ears with his hands. He didn’t want to hear another word and couldn’t imagine anything worse than discussing his sex life with his seventy-year-old mother. “Please stop. I don’t want to hear this.”
Estelle slapped his hands away from his ears. “Stop being a baby. Man up.”
Man up? Are you kidding me? You want me to have sex with my ex, a woman I despise!
“How do you think your father and I ended up with four sons?” she asked, cocking an eyebrow. “I loved being barefoot and pregnant, and if your dad’s sperm count wasn’t so low, we probably would have had ten kids!”
A wave of nausea flooded his body and Chase feared he was going to be sick. For a split second he considered bursting through the French doors and jumping off the balcony, but Estelle gripped his arm with superhuman strength, pinning him to the bed.
“What’s it going to take for you and Juliet to get back together?”
“Mom, I care a lot about Juliet, but we don’t belong together, probably never did.” He’d had this conversation with his mom numerous times, and he didn’t know what else to say or do to make her understand. Chase was frustrated with her, but spoke in a calm voice, didn’t let his anger get the best of him. “I’ve moved on and I wish she would, too. I don’t love her and I don’t want to marry her.”
Estelle gasped. “What a horrible thing to say about your college sweetheart!”
Chase wasn’t going to apologize for speaking the truth and hoped, after today, his mom would stop pushing his ex-girlfriend on him.
“Is this about the horseback riding accident?” Estelle wore a concerned expression on her face. “Do you still blame her for what happened at the equestrian club? I hope not, because it wasn’t her fault.”
Yes it was! She’s selfish and impulsive, and it’s a miracle I didn’t die! Chase cleared his throat then met his mother’s narrowed gaze. “I forgave Juliet, but I don’t want to date her, so please stop feeding her personal information about me.”
Estelle clutched the front of her caftan and sagged against the headboard. “My chest hurts... I can’t breathe... I think I’m having another heart attack,” she said in a raspy voic
e.
He hid a grin. “Mom, you didn’t have a heart attack. It was a heart episode, remember?”
“My dying wish is to see all of my sons happily married to women from esteemed families with great influence. Surely you’re not going to deny me my heart’s desire?”
“No, but Jonas will,” Chase said, struggling to keep a straight face. “He said he’d rather be euthanized than get married, so good luck getting him to the altar!”
Laughing, Estelle jabbed him in the shoulder with a finger. “You’re nothing but trouble, just like your brothers, but you’re no match for me. Mark my words. You’ll be married before the end of this year or my name’s not Estelle Jolene Iola Crawford.”
“Mom, you missed your calling,” he teased, patting her leg. “You shouldn’t be designing high-end jewelry. You should be on Broadway. You’re a natural.”
“Listen to me. I know what’s best for you and it’s Juliet. You’re a fantastic couple, just like Barack and Michelle, and Harry and Meghan.”
Chase heard a door slam then footsteps on the marble floor. Voices and high-pitched giggles filled the estate. He hoped Ezekiel had brought his daughters to the house, and not his wife Moriah. She was besties with Juliet and the last time he’d seen the veterinarian, she’d yakked incessantly about his ex. He hadn’t wanted to be rude, so he’d listened to her, but not today.
“Your father and I have been friends with the Wilmington family for almost three decades, and if you don’t marry Juliet, our relationship with them will be irrevocably damaged,” Estelle said in a solemn voice. “Is that what you want? To put a wedge between the two families?”
“No, of course not, but I’m not going to date Juliet just to appease you. That wouldn’t be fair to anyone.”
Southern Seduction ; Pleasure in His Arms Page 29