Breathe

by Kristen Ashley

“Enrique,” she said to a man wearing a white shirt and dark slacks standing close by, “please take Faye and Chace’s coats. We’ll take drinks in the sitting room. Faye, what would you like to drink?”

  Chace was helping me out of my long, cream wool coat as I shifted my little black clutch from hand to hand and answered, “A glass of white wine.”

  “Excellent,” she smiled at me then her eyes went to Chace, “Beer, darling?”

  “Yeah, Ma,” Chace muttered, handing our coats to Enrique.

  Taking in Chace without his long, wool black overcoat, the skirt around my hips, hand down my panties orgasm, I had to admit, was helped by the fact he was in a very well-tailored, dark blue suit with an open-necked blue shirt the color of his eyes. His belt buckle with the suit was subdued western but still western and the cowboy boots were all Chace. Still, like his mother and I, he made an effort and, as was his way, succeeded wildly.

  Enrique moving off with our coats, Valerie led the way to the “sitting room” which was the most formal room I’d ever been in in my life. It was done in soft pinks that were nearly cream and just plain creams. Even in a room that formal I took my cue from Valerie and Chace who settled in like it was your everyday family room, Valerie in an armchair, Chace and I side by side on a couch.

  As I was tucking my purse next to me, Valerie said, “I didn’t know what you liked, Faye, and Chace told me you seemed to like everything except pineapple on pizza. But we’re not having pizza so I told Donatta to do it up but avoid pineapple. I hope you brought your appetite.”

  “I always do,” I replied on a smile. “But just so you know, I like pineapple just not on pizza.”

  “Excellent!” she cried with more excitement than was needed then clasped her hands in front of her again and leaned from her pinky-cream armchair toward Chace and me on the creamy-cream couch and she noted, “Chace tells me you’re a librarian.”

  “I am,” I confirmed.

  To which she exclaimed, “I love books!”

  I laughed softly and shared, “I do too. It’s kind of important to like them when you spend all day around them. What’s your favorite book?”

  This was a mistake. Huge. Though I couldn’t fathom why.

  Still, I saw it. She sat back sharply, her face grew pale, the fingers of her hands in front of her started fidgeting, her eyes darted to Chace and she looked suddenly terrified.

  I felt my body get stiff at her reaction but Chace prompted quietly, “Your favorite book, Ma.”

  Her eyes skittered to me then back to Chace and she whispered, “I…” but stopped.

  It then occurred to me that she was worried what her favorite book would say about her. She wanted me to like her and she wanted this so much, she was terrified of just being her.

  “I have lots of favorite books,” I cut in and her eyes came back to me so I smiled gently and went on, “Let’s see, there’s Rosamund Pilcher’s The Shell Seekers and Oryx and Crake by Margaret Atwood. Then there’s Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Café by Fannie Flagg and Skinny Legs and All by Tom Robbins. I could go on and bore you for hours,” I told her. “And I haven’t even started on the romance novels.”

  The fear left her face and she leaned toward me again. “Oo, I like Carly Phillips.”

  I leaned toward her, smiling big. “I do too. She’s awesome. The Bachelor,” I told her one of my favorites.

  “The Playboy.” She gave me one of hers.

  “The Heartbreaker.” I one-upped her.

  She sat back again but this time grinning, “Those Chandler brothers…” she trailed off needing to say no more.

  “I know,” I agreed.

  “Where’s my beer?” Chace asked.

  I looked to him and burst out laughing then I looked back at Valerie and said through my laughter, “I’m sure you know this but Chace watches way too much sports on TV. I’m trying to expand his horizons by introducing him to my television shows but he’s reluctant. I’ll admit, my shows are geeky, Valerie, but they’re awesome. So I guess romance novels are way out of his realm of exciting dinner conversation.”

  She smiled at me and replied, “Then we’ll endeavor to find something Chace likes to discuss.”

  “Do you know the Avs chances at the Stanley Cup this year?” I asked.

  “No,” she answered.

  “Then perhaps we can talk him into explaining ballistics,” I suggested and it was Valerie’s turn to burst out laughing.

  Enrique came in with a tray of drinks and as he handed them around, Valerie wiped a non-existent tear of laughter from her eye and belatedly replied, “I fear, Faye, as interesting as my son is, if he explained ballistics, I would find it outside the realm of exciting dinner conversation to the point I’d fall asleep.”

  “Luckily your furniture is comfortable because I probably would too. Though I’d be worried I’d get my makeup on it if I stretched out to take a ballistics induced nap,” I told her.

  “Then we’ll retire to the less formal family room when Chace tells us about ballistics,” she told me. “I don’t mind makeup on my furniture but the furniture in there is much more comfortable.”

  “Two sleeping women in cocktail dresses. Terrific. Let’s do that. You can sleep, I can put on the game,” Chace muttered and my eyes shot to Valerie.

  “See!” I cried.

  “I do indeed,” she replied, grinning at me.

  I took a sip of my wine, swallowed and lifted the glass to her. “This is delicious, Valerie.”

  “Do you know wine?” she asked.

  “Not even a little,” I admitted. “Just what I like to drink.”

  “Then you must go to Napa. You don’t have to know wine to go to Napa. You just have to like it,” she told me.

  “Sounds the perfect vacation destination,” I replied, she grinned again, seeming relaxed and looked at Chace.

  “Lovely, darling. Faye enjoys wine like I do.” She lifted her own wineglass. “Such a bother, Misty and all her cocktails. I never quite –”

  Chace got tight at my side. Valerie got visibly tight across from us, her face paled and fear filled it again.

  I instantly forged into the awkwardness and did it gently.

  “I grew up in Carnal, Valerie, I knew Misty and that was very sad. But Chace and I are up front about things.” For the most part, I thought but did not say, and went on, “But that was a while ago and Misty’s not here to drink cocktails and although that’s upsetting, we’re here to enjoy wine and each other’s company so we should learn from the loss of a young vital woman and do that.”

  “Of course,” she muttered, looking uncomfortably at her knees.

  “Valerie,” I called and her eyes skittered to me. I leaned forward when I got them and continued, “We don’t know each other but we already have something important in common and that is we both care a lot about Chace. Please don’t think you have to handle me with care. He thinks the world of you and shares it. So I knew I would too. I hope I win you over tonight so we can find out if we have more in common than Chace and Carly Phillips. But we should start that being open with each other and letting it shine through. Don’t you agree?”

  “You’re very forthright,” she said softly.

  I wasn’t really. I was just being forthright then for her and Chace.

  “I hope you don’t mind that,” I said softly back.

  “Not at all, Faye,” she whispered.

  “Good,” I whispered back then carried on. “Just so you know, I’m normally very shy and quiet. But when the town’s most handsome cop turned his eye my way, I got a little sassy.”

  She gave me a small grin and kept whispering to say, “I can imagine that happens.”

  I gestured to myself with my wineglass. “Living proof right here.”

  “Uh… do I exist in this conversation?” Chace asked, Valerie sat back, I sat back and Chace’s arm on the back of the couch instantly moved to curve around my shoulders.

  “Sorry, we were having a moment,”
I muttered, suddenly kind of embarrassed.

  His arm curled me toward him so my eyes were forced to lift to his and when they did he murmured, “Yeah.” But it was a “yeah” filled with approval.

  He followed this with a lip touch.

  I squirmed at his side and when his mouth left mine, I whispered super soft, “Your Mom.”

  “Don’t mind me,” she chimed in and Chace didn’t uncurl me even though we both looked to Valerie to see her again beaming. “I think a man who’s confident in displaying affection is very attractive, even and especially my son. Therefore this is something I taught him.”

  So I had her to thank.

  I’d find another time to do that.

  Instead, I just grinned.

  Chace uncurled me and asked his mother, “Are we gonna eat in this millennium?”

  “Chace, so impatient!” she snapped without any rancor whatsoever but on a doting smile.

  “Not impatient. Hungry. I’ve been in an SUV for two hours and it’s eight o’clock.”

  “You should have had a snack,” Valerie admonished.

  “Ma, Donatta doesn’t serve anything less than three courses and her shit’s the shit. I was not gonna have a snack and ruin it. But I am gonna gnaw off my own arm in about two seconds if Enrique doesn’t show with some crackers and cheese.”

  “You shouldn’t say the s-word,” she told him.

  “Does you tellin’ me not to curse mean Enrique’s not on his way with crackers and cheese?”

  “Foie gras,” she muttered.

  “Well, clap or somethin’ and get him to get a move on,” Chace ordered, his lips tipped up, meaning he was teasing and Valerie looked to me.

  “Have you noticed he can be annoying?”

  “Um…” I mumbled then shut up.

  “Smart, baby, don’t answer that,” Chace murmured on a shoulder squeeze.

  “Her non-answer is her answer and it was affirmative,” Valerie informed him.

  “But it doesn’t count because it wasn’t verbalized,” Chace informed his mother.

  She rolled her eyes.

  I smiled at their back and forth.

  Chace got impatient.

  “Seriously, Ma, pâté isn’t my top choice but it’s food. We gonna get that before Faye and I have to move in?”

  She scowled at him then called loudly yet still daintily, “Enrique! You can serve the foie gras now.”

  “Fuckin’ brilliant,” Chace muttered.

  “Chace!” Valerie snapped.

  “Chace!” I semi-snapped.

  “Not fuckin’ brilliant,” Chace muttered again, grinning.

  I looked to Valerie. “He swears way too often.”

  “We’re in accord over that, my dear,” she replied snippily, still scowling at Chace.

  Enrique walked in.

  “Fuckin’ brilliant,” Chace muttered again, uncurling his arm from around my shoulders and leaning toward the tray instantly as Enrique set it on the table in front of us.

  I looked to Valerie and rolled my eyes.

  Valerie looked to me and did the same.

  Then I sat forward to get my foie gras because Chace might not find it a top choice but it was one of my favorites in the whole world.

  * * * * *

  Dinner went great.

  Then it happened.

  We were in the less formal family room which was, indeed, less formal but it was still more formal than I was used to. I was thinking that I was glad the material of my dress had a little stretch because after that dinner, I needed it.

  Not including the foie gras, it was four courses of rich, complicated food and not those elegant, minimalistic, rich, complicated food portions but vast portions even my mother would balk at serving. Nevertheless, it was delicious but it was filling.

  Wine flowed freely and Valerie relaxed. Between my forthrightness and Chace’s teasing, she already seemed relatively comfortable by the time we headed to the opulent dining room, its table laid with china, silver and crystal that was so delicate and refined, I suspected the Queen of England would find it a little daunting.

  We’d only had one incident during dinner. This being that the flowers I’d ordered through Holly were gracing the table and Valerie calling my attention to them and expressing her gratitude so often that, in the end, I was running out of ways to say, “You’re welcome.”

  Chace noticed this, it seemed to make him tense and eventually he muttered to his mother gently, “Ma, she gets it. You like ‘em. Let it go, okay?”

  At this, she got a bit fidgety and I thought she’d knock over her wineglass but I again forged into the breach, making some comment about Chace’s horseshoe champagne glasses and how much I liked them. She beamed at the compliment, relaxed and settled in.

  In fact, by the time we made it to the family room, I was wondering what all the drama was about. Sure, she seemed nervous, she seemed very much to want me to like her and have a good time and Chace seemed unhealthily attuned to it but it wasn’t that bad.

  Until suddenly, out of nowhere, when we were sitting and chatting in the family room, me finishing my last glass of wine knowing it was getting late and the drive was long so we’d be leaving soon, Valerie’s eyes lit up. At the same time a wave of something immensely unpleasant flowed from Chace, filling the room.

  Seemingly oblivious to Chace’s emotion, Valerie set her glass aside, clasped her hands in front of her, her eyes shot back and forth between Chace and me and she instantly gave me the information I needed to understand what was going down.

  “Trane is here!”

  Uh-oh.

  I tensed with Chace as Valerie babbled on, “He said he was tied up, most likely wouldn’t make it.” She looked at me. “I was devastated. I so wanted you to meet him and Chace’s father so wanted to meet you. I more so wanted Trane to meet you after I actually met you and you’re so very charming. And now,” she beamed between Chace and me, “He’s here!”

  She then shot to her feet and rushed from the room without another word.

  I turned to Chace but as I was doing this, he got to his feet, hauling me up with him, announcing on a growl, “We’re leavin’. Now.”

  I nodded and didn’t say a word. I just bent and grabbed my bag as I went on alert because I could feel from his vibe that what would happen next would not go well.

  I was not wrong though I would have no idea how bad it would get. And I would have no clue that bad wouldn’t happen until much later and it would be very bad.

  We were coming into the foyer when we met Valerie and Trane.

  I was not surprised to see, considering their money and Valerie’s barely diminished by age looks, that Trane’s father was also very dignified and attractive.

  But I was surprised to see the resemblance Chace had to his father. They weren’t mirror images of each other, Trane’s hair had some gray mingled with the blond. But they were the same height, same build and Chace’s eyes were the same color as Trane’s. Although Chace was younger, the power and strength of his frame and stature not faded as Trane’s somewhat had, there were more than a few similarities.

  I didn’t really get the chance to process this for, upon being in his father’s presence, that emotion flowing from Chace ratcheted up around two dozen levels making it hard to breathe. But even though he couldn’t miss it, Trane barely glanced at his son before he eyes lighted on me.

  He sent a familiar but less natural and warm smile my way as he approached us.

  “Faye,” he moved toward me as I felt Chace, already close, weirdly start crowding me, “what a delight. So pleased I made it home in time to meet you.”

  Not knowing what to do considering everything about Chace screamed I should run for the hills but Trane was giving me a welcoming smile while Valerie stood to the side beaming with obvious pleasure, I simply locked my body but allowed Trane to take my hand.

  It was when Trane touched me, the stifling emotion rolling off Chace hit the danger zone but I was caught. I could
do nothing but allow Trane to lift my hand and touch his lips to my knuckles even when Chace’s arm slid around my waist, his fingers digging in and his mood blanketing the room.

  I hadn’t been around rich people so I couldn’t know, maybe they kissed fingers as a matter of course, but even if Chace wasn’t being weird, I wouldn’t have liked him kissing my knuckles. It was debonair, I’d seen it happen before in movies but it also was a bit creepy. Furthermore, he couldn’t miss Chace’s possessive claiming tactics that shouted stand back! Thus he couldn’t miss he was putting me in an extremely awkward position and that wasn’t nice to me or his son.

  Trane straightened and dropped my hand but didn’t release it when he continued to ignore his son and looked in my eyes. For my part, I was again caught, wanting to put pressure on my hand for him to release it at the same time thinking that might be rude.

  “You’re lovely. What a shame I wasn’t able to be there while you graced my table.”

  “Thank you,” I whispered.

  “Let her go,” Chace growled low enough his mother wouldn’t hear but his father definitely did because he let me go.

  His eyes cut to his son.

  “Chace,” he greeted. “You’re looking well.”

  “We’re also leaving,” Chace replied, moving me around Trane toward his mother. I could hear the effort it took him to modulate his voice when he spoke to her. “Sorry, Ma, but we have to hit the road.”

  Her face fell instantly showing she wasn’t disappointed, she was devastated.

  Thus she leaned in beseechingly. “Couldn’t you stay for just one more drink so Trane can relax and chat with you and your charming Faye?”

  “No,” Chace replied tersely, not to mention rudely, leaned in, kissed her cheek then moved back and told her, “I’ll call. Maybe in a coupla weeks you can come to Carnal, spend the weekend.”

  “But –” she started but Chace’s arm gave my waist a squeeze, I took his meaning and moved forward.

  “Lovely dinner,” I murmured, curling my hand reassuringly on her upper arm and leaning in to touch my cheek against hers. “I enjoyed it very much, the food,” I moved back, caught her eyes and gave her arm a squeeze before I finished, “and especially the company.”