Crush

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  “Would be the perfect place for a romantic evening with you and your guy,” the realtor said. Sensing a sale, she wanted to paint pictures that her client could see and, just as important, feel. The smell of chocolate-chip cookies worked in the kitchen; talk of love and romance usually helped sell the master suite.

  “Yes, it would,” Delicia answered, her finger skimming the counter where the “his and her” sinks were housed. When daydreaming about her and Chaz being together, she hadn’t been able to imagine him being in her cramped, inner-city apartment. She could imagine him here.

  “Well, what do you think?” the realtor asked as they walked back through the house and stood in the living room, where a beamed, vaulted ceiling offered an unobstructed view of the dining room’s crystal chandelier.

  “I think I’d like to make an offer.”

  19

  “Daddy! Can I get an ice cream cone? Please?”

  “Of course, sweetie.” Chaz’s heart filled with love for his daughter. He’d readily admit that she had him wrapped around her finger. She was daddy’s little girl, in looks and temperament. Chaz adored her. He pulled out a five-dollar bill and gave it to Cherish. “You want one, too, son?”

  He gave his namesake a five-dollar bill, then turned and saw Jennifer’s broad smile. “What about you?”

  “What I want to lick is not in a cone.”

  “Ha! C’mon, now. Behave.”

  “I’ll try,” Jennifer answered. But her mischievous smile suggested otherwise.

  It was the second two-parent family outing since the children’s therapist had suggested it two months ago. There’d been little change in Cherish’s demeanor following Chaz and Jennifer’s separation and ultimate divorce, but Chaz, Jr. had become more quarrelsome and his grades took a dive. Since beginning the therapy, however, both parents had seen improvement. For Jennifer, the therapist suggesting outings involving both parents was an unexpected plus.

  The family enjoyed a pleasant afternoon at Safari Land, a time filled with fun rides and junk food. As they walked to the parking lot with two satisfied yet sleepy children, both Chaz and Jennifer were remembering that there had been good times in their marriage, a time when they’d both been madly in love.

  “I’d forgotten how much fun we could have together,” Jennifer said, after the children had hugged their mother and gotten in the backseat of Chaz’s car.

  “I enjoyed it, too,” Chaz answered.

  “I’d do anything to have a second chance with you, Chaz. There isn’t a day that goes by when I don’t kick myself for what happened. You’re an excellent lawyer, a wonderful father, and a good man. If I had it all to do over again—”

  “Let’s not dwell on what we can’t change,” Chaz interrupted, even as something she said niggled at his mind. “This was a good day, let’s leave it at that. Your therapist deserves a thank-you. I can see a change in the kids, especially C.J.”

  “It does make a difference, doesn’t it? The children seeing their parents together, acting civilized, happy. C.J. has a track meet in two weeks. Maybe we can—oh, hold on a minute.”

  Jennifer had felt her vibrating phone in her pocket. She read its face and smiled. “Hold on,” she said, without looking at Chaz. Instead she focused on the keyboard, her thumbs moving rapidly as she typed in a message.

  Chaz looked on with interest as his wife finished the message and placed the phone back in her pocket.

  “Sorry about that,” Jennifer said, still smiling.

  “I never knew you to be a text messager,” Chaz said, a myriad of thoughts racing through his head.

  “I haven’t been doing it long, only a few months.”

  “Couldn’t tell it from how fast your fingers moved over those keys.”

  “You remember how I used to beat your butt at video games. This kind of stuff comes to me naturally.”

  “You don’t say. Well, you’re obviously good at it.”

  Jennifer hugged Chaz. He noted that her embrace was one of familiarity, her right hand rubbing his back while her left hand squeezed the back of his neck in a way she knew drove him wild. The feminine scent of her musky perfume assaulted his nostrils, even as the feel of her soft breasts pressing against Chaz’s chest became all too noticeable. Of their own volition, Chaz’s arms tightened around Jennifer, his right hand inching precariously close to the butt he used to squeeze in the throes of lovemaking. He brushed her buns with the palm of his hand. Jennifer reacted by pressing herself into him and placing a light kiss on his lips.

  “Mama, I have to use the bathroom,” C.J. announced from the backseat window.

  And the spell was broken.

  “You come, too, baby girl,” Chaz said to his daughter, as C.J. bounded from the car. Chaz punched his son playfully. “It would have been too much like right for you to use it before we left the park, huh?” Then he turned to Jennifer. “This was a good day, Jen. I hope it is reflective of the type of relationship we can have . . . for the sake of the children.”

  Jennifer stared at Chaz, not trying to hide the love in her eyes. “What time should I pick the kids up tomorrow?”

  “How about I drop them off? Maybe we can even go out to dinner, us and the kids.”

  “I’d like that!”

  “Okay.” Chaz gave Jennifer another brief hug and then followed his children, who were already running back toward the restroom just inside the park’s entrance.

  After they’d all done their business, Chaz, Cherish, and C.J. returned to Chaz’s BMW. All the way home, the kids chattered about how much fun they’d had and which had been their favorite rides. Chaz engaged them in conversation but at the same time, thought of other things. Like how good Jennifer had felt in his arms. And about her newly developed texting skills.

  20

  “Liz, I’m deeply grateful for this.” Chaz looked up from the two-hundred-and-fifty-thousand-dollar check he held, and blessed Elizabeth with a smile.

  “It’s from the heart,” Liz replied, purposely using the name of Chaz’s beloved foundation.

  “Even though you have a lot of it, there are many places you could spend your money. Believe me when I say that I truly appreciate it. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Silence ensued, as Chaz and Elizabeth looked at one another with appreciation—for very different reasons. Neither would have disagreed that at another time, another place, they might have been one of Chicago’s power couples. One of them still wished that, because it seemed highly unlikely that they’d ever be a couple, they could couple, at the very least.

  “I’d like to have you over for dinner,” Elizabeth said.

  You’d like to have me for dinner, more likely. “I don’t think the two of us alone, without a chaperone, is a good idea,” Chaz responded.

  “You’re a big boy. And I won’t bite. Not much, anyway . . .”

  “How are things with Max?” Chaz asked, in an abrupt change of subject.

  Elizabeth sighed, and the slightest hint of vulnerability showed in her eyes. “Well, you were right. We’re not getting divorced.”

  “What exactly did your father say?”

  “That hell would freeze over and the moon would fall before that happened. Oh, and he also included a pesky detail about me being cut off from my inheritance.”

  “Kenneth Owens is nothing if not exacting.”

  “My dad’s a royal pain in the ass.”

  “He’s a shrewd businessman who’d give his life for you,” Chaz countered. “Looking at you and this check from your public relations firm, a business I know you built without your father’s money, I’d say the apple didn’t fall far from the tree.”

  Elizabeth glowed at the praise.

  “So how did you and Max kiss and make up?”

  “He bought me the vacation home I’d been eyeing in the Bahamas. The one I want to use for clandestine getaways.” Elizabeth looked pointedly at Chaz. “And we agreed to formally have an open marriage.”

  C
haz Covington was shocked, and he didn’t shock easily. “You’re lying.”

  “Scout’s honor. It’s the only way he and I will be able to peacefully co-exist. This means we can be together, Chaz. I can have sex with you without breaking my vows.”

  “What happened to the golf-partner’s son?”

  “Oh, God. That little bunny rabbit came almost before he was in good.”

  “Ha!”

  “Half my age and no staying power. But I’m sure you, on the other hand . . .”

  “Excuse me, Mr. Covington,” Lois interrupted, after tapping lightly on Chaz’s closed door. “But your two o’clock appointment is here.” She walked over to Chaz and handed him a folder. “These are the notes from your first meeting.”

  “Get them settled in the conference room, Lois. I’ll be right there.”

  Elizabeth watched Lois walk out of the room. “She sure has a different pep in her step. What did you do?”

  “Not what I did, what she did . . . got a makeover at the mall.”

  “Poor little thing. I hardly noticed. Then again, I guess it’s the first time I saw her hair outside of a bun or ponytail. You know she’s in love with you.”

  “So I’ve been told. But true or not, that has nothing to do with Lois’s proficiency. She’s an excellent employee.”

  “Yeah, one I just might steal from you.”

  “Oh, really? Why’s that?”

  “Melanie turned in her two-weeks’ notice, right before I left the office to come here.”

  “Did she finally have enough of your verbal assaults?”

  “The little twat was incompetent. And if it’s left up to me, she won’t get another job in this town.”

  Chaz stood. “Well, then, it’s a good thing it’s not left up to you.”

  “Oh, so you think you might hire her?”

  “I have a couple of openings. We’ve promoted Gina Perez to office manager, so we need another secretary and a couple more file clerks.” He came around from his desk, hugged Elizabeth, and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Thanks again, Elizabeth. For everything.”

  Elizabeth kissed Chaz on the lips. She looked into his eyes and kissed him again. “There’s only one way you can truly thank me, Chaz Covington. When the opportunity arises, and it will arise . . . don’t blow it.”

  21

  Later that evening, Chaz and Lois chatted in the sitting area of Chaz’s office. They’d gone over the events of the day, Chaz’s schedule for the rest of the week, and now discussed how Lois would be affected by Gina’s promotion.

  “So, she’s like . . . my supervisor?” Lois asked, not aware of the frown that accompanied the question.

  “You’ve only got one boss, and that’s me,” Chaz replied. “We’ve made it very clear in the job description that Gina is to manage the office, not the secretaries. All of you will still report to the attorneys you work for. Gina will oversee the file clerks and other supporting personnel—cleaners, maintenance, lawn services, temp services, and so on. She’ll also be the liaison for social events and work with our public relations firm to heighten our profile, especially when it comes to community projects.” When Lois remained silent, Chaz continued. “Lois, is this a position you would have wanted? If so, I offer no apologies. When it came to making this decision, I was very selfish. You’re the best legal secretary I’ve ever seen, and I appreciate being able to bounce ideas off of you. As long as you’re in this firm, which I truly hope is a long time, you’re working for me.”

  Any resistance that Lois had to the idea evaporated in that moment.

  “I’m thinking about having a meeting.”

  Lois knew Chaz had changed the subject, but didn’t know in which direction. “A meeting?”

  “With Ms. Anonymous.”

  “The person writing the letters?”

  Chaz nodded. He was 98 percent sure he knew the sender’s identity, but the remaining 2 percent was why he decided to tell Lois about his plans. He had to cover all of his bases, in case this was a setup.

  “Do you think that’s a good idea?” Lois tried but failed to keep from fidgeting in her chair.

  “I want to know who it is,” Chaz said truthfully, continuing to eye Lois intently. He’d noticed her fidgeting and wondered if the reason had anything to do with the 2 percent.

  “But then would you . . . oh, I’m sorry. Never mind.”

  “Would I what? Act out the things she’s written in the letters?”

  Lois bowed her head, too embarrassed to speak.

  “I doubt whoever it is would even show,” Chaz replied, trying to prevent Lois from further embarrassment. “But with a meeting, there is one person I could effectively eliminate from suspicion.”

  “Pete Bennett?”

  Chaz nodded.

  “How could you be sure he wasn’t behind whoever showed up?”

  “I’ve thought about that. I have my ways.”

  “Pardon me for being honest, Mr. Covington. But you have a nationally recognized law firm with a staunch reputation to uphold. Any scandal resulting from a meeting would be costly and detrimental. If you decide to move forward, please make sure you’ve counted all the costs.”

  Chaz looked at Lois, respect in his eyes. “You’d make a good attorney, Lois. Have you considered law school?”

  For the second time today, Lois warmed at her boss’s praise. Later that night, she’d feel the heat a third time. And once again, thoughts of Chaz would be the reason.

  22

  “I need you, Chaz.” Taylor toyed with the straw in her daiquiri. They sat on The Terrace at The Peninsula Chicago.

  “I want you,” Chaz replied. The weekend following the dinner at the Bateses, Chaz had told Taylor about his conversation with James and how uncomfortable it had made him. He and Taylor had continued to talk almost every day, but since that night this was the first time they’d seen each other. “How’s James?” he asked at last.

  “He’s . . . okay.” A wistful smile appeared on Taylor’s face. “But lately he’s become obsessed with sex, and the fact that he can’t satisfy me . . . like he used to.”

  “But what about oral?”

  “I try and reassure him that he’s still handling his business, that I’m satisfied. And I am, most of the time.”

  “And those other times?” Chaz softly asked.

  Taylor looked at Chaz. Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears. She shrugged, but remained silent.

  “You know how much I love you, Taylor. You’re my best friend. But James is also my friend. And while he thinks he can handle your stepping outside the marriage, and even encourage it to a degree, the reality of actually finding out would feel quite different. Trust me, I know.”

  “But Jennifer cheated on you. You had no idea there was somebody else.”

  “So what will we do? Go to James, announce our intentions, and make sure he’s okay with the idea?”

  “Well . . . when you put it that way, the idea does seem preposterous. But what if you didn’t know?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “What if our meeting happened anonymously . . . like the person writing those letters?”

  Chaz sat back and crossed his arms. “How could that happen?”

  Taylor smiled. “It could actually be kinda sexy. You know: blindfold, handcuffs, soft feathers, and melted chocolate . . .”

  “Whoa, where’s my friend Taylor, and who’s this dominatrix sitting in front of me?”

  “Ha! What can I say, Chaz Covington? You’re bringing out the freak in me.”

  “Freak” wasn’t a word often bandied about in Chaz’s circle. The fact that he’d heard it used recently from two very different women, whom he dearly loved for different reasons, wasn’t lost on him.

  “I told James I was meeting an old colleague and that I’d probably be late getting back.” Taylor’s eyes were searching, beckoning . . .

  But a voice from the past pushed its way to the surface, the voice of another spouse explaining her late
ness. “They’re having a fund-raiser at the radio station,” Jennifer had said, sometimes substituting “private party” or “meeting” for the event. “I offered to volunteer. I’ll be home late.”

  While the circumstances were different, to Chaz the feeling was familiar and did not feel good. He was a viral man who needed release, and he would get it soon. But it wouldn’t be tonight.

  “I’ve got a busy day tomorrow,” he said, hoping that this truthful statement would serve to let Taylor down easy. He stood and reached for his suit jacket. “I’m in court all day tomorrow. Best prepare myself with a good night’s sleep.”

  “You’re probably right,” Taylor said, standing as well. “But remember one thing, Chaz. What James doesn’t know won’t hurt him. And it won’t hurt you either.”

  Chaz nodded, but as he left the restaurant, he was more confused than ever. What I won’t know won’t hurt me? “What is it that I won’t know?” he murmured aloud, as he waited for the valet to bring around his car.

  The answer came as he tipped the driver and got behind the wheel. You don’t know the identity of who’s been writing the letters. Chaz didn’t, but he knew one thing: he was about to find out.

  23

  Chicago’s elite had turned out for the invite-only dinner, where the mayor of Chicago was scheduled to present Chaz and the From the Heart Foundation with a special award. The charity had formed an alliance with a local hospital that was committed to bringing a world-class team of scientists and cardio specialists to the Windy City. Chaz had made a one-million-dollar donation from his foundation to advance the cause. As he sat at the head table, along with the mayor; Elizabeth’s father, Kenneth Owens; and other city notables, Chaz knew in his heart that his mother was smiling down from above. In her memory and honor, he’d had the place decorated in hues of yellow, her favorite color, and had devised a menu from her favorite foods: steak, potatoes, and pecan pie, but prepared in lighter, healthier versions. His memories were bittersweet, but he reveled in the fact that attention was being given to a hideous disease. If even one life was saved as a result of his efforts, he’d believe that his mother’s untimely passing had not been in vain.

 

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