After the Party (11 page)

“It’s actually old. I had it brought out of storage this morning.”

“You did?”

“Someone mentioned something about happy cows...” He shrugged. “I’m thinking of having monthly tournaments.”

“You’re just full of surprises.” And wasn’t that the truth? He was wearing a tie, perfectly knotted, but figuratively, at least, he’d loosened it.

“I’ve ordered a few more that will go in the cafeteria. Which reminds me, do you have plans for lunch?”

“Actually, I do. I’m heading over to The Colton. The manager is having samples made up of the menu items I requested for your dinner. I get to try them.”

“Want some company?” he asked.

How to play this, Ella wondered. She opted to be casual. “It’s your party.”

“Is that a yes?”

“It’s not a no.”

He frowned. “And that’s not an answer.”

Casual was getting complicated. She decided to be blunt. “I don’t want you to feel obligated, because, well...” She lowered her voice. “Because of yesterday.”

His lips twitched with an almost smile. “That’s thoughtful, but unnecessary. I don’t feel...obligated.”

But he did feel something and based on the way his gaze was lingering on her mouth, Ella had a good idea what it might be. Too bad they were heading to a public place or a replay of the previous day would be inevitable. She shivered just thinking about it.

“I can hang out for a few minutes if you need to do something before we leave. Or you can meet me at the restaurant.” That was casual
and
uncomplicated. She gave herself a mental high-five.

“I have nothing pressing right now. We can go.”

Unfortunately, Owen stepped out of his office just then.

“Where are you off to, Chase?” He smirked before adding, “As if I need to ask.”

“Ella and I have an appointment with the manager of The Colton. We’re sampling the menu for my dinner party.”

“Sampling.”
He nodded. “A nice word for a nooner.”

Chase’s gaze turned hard as steel and he took a menacing step toward Owen. Ella headed off what she decided would be an ugly exchange by grabbing his arm.

With an overly bright smile, she said, “Let’s go. I don’t want to be late.”

“I’ll apologize for my cousin,” Chase said when they were in the elevator heading to the lobby.

“Don’t. If anyone should be apologizing, it’s me.” Ella took a deep breath and admitted, “It was thanks to my big mouth that he put two and two together.”

Far from being angry, Chase appeared amused. “You didn’t strike me as the sort to kiss and tell.”

“Generally speaking, I’m not. It’s just that Owen made a comment about you being boring and not liking anything spicy, and I...” Ella wrinkled her nose and decided to leave it at that.

Chase filled in the blank for her. “You came to my defense.”

“It seemed like a good idea at the time. You’re not mad?”

“More like flattered that you felt compelled to disabuse him of the notion. Thank you.”

Chase stepped closer, bringing the crisp scent of his aftershave with him.

“Well, he was wrong,” she murmured and closed the distance. Ella rested the palms of her hands on his chest and inhaled deeply. “I love the way you smell.”

His scent had lingered on her body after they’d parted ways the previous day. It had been with a great deal of regret that she’d washed it away when she’d showered last night.

“I’m pretty partial to the way you smell, too.”

He dipped his head, kissed her lips. Fantasies involving hitting the emergency stop button bubbled in Ella’s brain. But that one kiss was all they had time for before the doors opened at the lobby.

NINE

“Are you sure
you don’t need me to go with you and help set up?” Sandra asked as they sat on the futon in Ella’s apartment.

Ella was triple-checking her notes. Sandra was filing her nails. Ella wasn’t fooled. Her friend didn’t want to lend a hand as much as she wanted a good look at Chase. Ella shook her head.

“It’s a dinner party for eight people. If I can’t handle this on my own, there’s absolutely no hope for me in the business.”

“You can handle it.” Sandra stopped filing. “You seem to really like this job.”

“I do.” Ella looked up from her notes and grinned. “I mean, what’s not to like about parties, right?”

“Yes, but planning them isn’t the same as attending them. It can’t be all fun and games.”

“No.” A lot of tedium was involved, as Ella was discovering. She’d touched base twice already with The Colton about the food, and had headed off a crisis over the centerpiece when the florist called earlier that morning to say the shipment of sky-blue hydrangeas had not arrived. Plan B involved pale green hydrangeas, which would still complement the tablescape Ella had in mind. “You know, I think I may be good at this.”

“Better than you are at identifying the next fashion trend?” Sandra asked.

“Maybe.”

Ella shrugged. Her intuition regarding which colors, cuts and textures were going to be hot would have made her a good buyer, or so one of her professors at NYU had claimed. But she discovered that she used some of that same intuition planning a party. Even food could be fashionable, and some trends were overdone in her opinion.

Was party-planning what she was meant to do with her life? She wasn’t sure, regardless of what Madame Maroushka thought. But Ella did know that for the first time in a long time she had money in the bank, was current on her rent and she was enjoying herself.

Chase came to mind, an image of the two of them sweaty and sated and already gearing up for another go-round. He wasn’t the only reason she was enjoying herself, but Ella wouldn’t discount his effect on her current mood.

Sandra sighed. “I envy you, El.”

The admission caught Ella by surprise.

The women had been friends since their freshman year at an exclusive all-girl prep school, the tuition for which rivaled some of the best universities in the country. Sandra still lived in one of Manhattan’s most exclusive ZIP codes. She was dating a man who adored her, a decent guy who, by all indications, wanted to marry her, and who easily could afford to keep Sandra in the lifestyle to which she was accustomed. Her family was well regarded in the community. Her mother was on a first-name basis with the mayor. As for her father, he’d never been the punch line for a late-night comedian’s joke. She’d never been put on the stand in a courtroom or grilled by strangers about her father’s business dealings. Nor had she been chased by tabloid reporters eager for a quote. She didn’t have a stepmother who went around badmouthing her or a stepsister who just plain hated her and loved making her life miserable.

Ella stopped what she was doing and asked in bewilderment, “How can you possibly envy me?”

“You’re so Zen about everything. And, once you set your mind to something, you never waver. You go after it. No hesitation.”

“I don’t have a choice,” Ella pointed out.

Sandra shrugged. “Still, you know who you are.”

Ella wouldn’t claim to have her life figured out. If she had, she wouldn’t have consulted Madame Maroushka. But her friend was right. Ella did know who she was. “That’s because I’m the same person I’ve always been.”

“Exactly.” Sandra put the emery board aside and began fiddling with an earring, a sure sign that she was anxious about something. “Your circumstances changed. Drastically. But you, you stayed the same, El.”

“You stayed the same, too. A lot of people stopped calling me or they stopped taking my calls after my dad was accused of insider trading. And then when the lawsuits started...” Ella shook her head to clear it of the painful memories. “You were never one of those people, though. You stuck by me. You stayed true.”

“BFFs through thick and thin,” Sandra replied, letting go of the silver hoop that dangled from her earlobe to stick out her hand.

They linked little fingers and giggled like the schoolgirls they’d been the first time they’d executed a pinky oath. Then Sandra sobered.

“I can’t stop wondering if I’d be as resilient as you’ve been if our situations were reversed.”

“Oh, you would. You totally would,” Ella assured her, although she hoped Sandra never had to find out.

Sandra nodded, but then to Ella’s surprise, the young woman covered her face with her hands and wailed, “I invited Bernadette to my family’s barbecue.”

“You wh—!” Ella moderated her tone and asked, “When did this happen? How?”

Sandra lowered her hands. “Yesterday. Cole and I were out at Belmont Park watching Deuce’s Pride race. While we were there we ran into Bradley.” No surprise that. Bradley entertained illusions of becoming a breeder. Sandra’s boyfriend, meanwhile, owned several horses, which he stabled near the storied track. “Anyway, Cole and Bradley had their heads together about horses. The next thing I knew, Cole was saying, ‘We’ll talk more at the barbecue.’ You know guys. He just assumed Bradley was on the guest list even though he hasn’t been welcome at my house since he broke off things with you.”

“And so you invited Bernadette?”

“Not intentionally. But when Bradley asked what time
they
should arrive, meaning he and Bernadette, I didn’t tell him to go to hell. Feel free to hate me, because I said, three o’clock. God! I am the worst friend ever!” Sandra wailed again.

“It’s not your fault,” Ella murmured, even as her heart sank. She’d been looking forward to going, not only because she always had a good time, but to pick Mrs. Chesterfield’s brain about the mechanics behind organizing such a large bash. The guest list routinely topped two hundred. Now? She would have to worry about running into her ex and Bernadette.

Still, to Sandra, Ella said, “Your family’s barbecue is huge. I shouldn’t have a hard time avoiding them.”

“I have a better idea,” Sandra said. “Bring a date. Bring Chase.”

This wasn’t the first time her friend had made the suggestion, but Ella declined once again, shaking her head for emphasis.

“Why not?”

“I’ve already told you. Chase and I aren’t a couple.”

“You’re just sleeping together?” Sandra arched one eyebrow. “That doesn’t sound like you.”

No, it didn’t. As a rule, Ella wasn’t casual about sex, but she was trying to be with Chase. He hadn’t said anything about the future, but she knew he had a home in Los Angeles, a job there he would be returning to eventually.

“I’m not saying I don’t like him.” And wasn’t that an understatement? The more Ella got to know Chase the more reasons she found to fall for him. “But he’s not my boyfriend.”

“Ella?”

“He’s not. We haven’t even been out on a proper date.” Sampling menu items at The Colton didn’t count. Nor did the incredible sex they’d had twice since then.

“All right. But you could still bring him to the barbecue, make Bradley jealous.”

“Please. Bradley is over me.”

“Okay, make Bernadette green with envy then. Chase is a better catch than Bradley any day.”

“Point taken.”

More to get Sandra off her back than because Ella was seriously considering asking Chase, she promised not to rule out the possibility.

* * *

Chase tugged at the knot in his tie as he waited for Ella to arrive. According to his doorman, who’d called a minute earlier, she’d been let into the private elevator and was on her way up. When the doors slid open, all Chase saw were flowers and a skimpy skirt that revealed a pair of long and shapely legs. His mouth went slack, even as other parts of his body grew tight. And that was before she peeked from behind the flower arrangement and glossy pink lips curved with a moan-inducing smile.

“What do you think?” she asked.

“Gorgeous.”

Ella nodded at the flowers as she stepped off the elevator. “They are, aren’t they? The florist was worried when the original color I ordered wasn’t available, but I think I like these better actually.”

He’d been talking about the woman, not the blooms, but he didn’t correct Ella.

“Let me have those.” He took the flowers from her hands. “I assume they go on the table.”

“So smart,” she teased as she followed him to the dining room. Once there, however, she instructed him to put them on the sideboard. “They’re one of the final touches to my tablescape.”

“Your what?”

“Tablescape.” Ella set a stuffed backpack-style purse on one of the chairs. “It’s...never mind,” she finished on a chuckle. Then, “Don’t you look...formal.”

“Too much?” he asked.

It wasn’t like him to worry over wardrobe choices, much less rethink them, but he was now.

“It depends on the tone you want to set for the dinner party and what your guests will be wearing. The goal of a good host is to ensure that his guests are as at ease in his home as they are in their own.” She laughed. “I read that online.”

She was taking her new career very seriously, which was good considering all that was at stake for his uncle. Through a great deal of persuasion behind the scenes, Chase had been able to get the board to hold off on the vote to oust Elliot. He hoped to use the time to expose the leak and talk his uncle into getting the medical help he needed. The party, however, loomed overhead like an ominous dark cloud. The seasoned planner he’d hired to shadow Ella would ensure all of the bases were covered. Chase wouldn’t feel guilty about that. He couldn’t.

“My guests probably won’t be wearing ties,” he admitted.

The men would be in jackets, but they would leave off the neckwear. Chase reached up to remove his, keeping his gaze on Ella. Her eyes were glued to the knot just below his Adam’s apple. Was she remembering the last time they’d been in this room and he’d removed his tie? He certainly was.

Then her gaze cut away and she rubbed her hands together. “So, you said you had white linens and place settings for eight.”

She was eager to begin. Chase was eager, too, but it had nothing to do with setting a table and preparing for guests, which weren’t due to arrive for another three hours.

Three hours. That left plenty of time for...

“Linens, Chase.” Her smile, more so than her words, told him she knew exactly where his mind had wandered. “And I’m not talking about bed sheets.”

“We have three hours,” he pointed out.

“Exactly. And as much as I wouldn’t mind a repeat of the other day, I need to use the time to get ready.” She swallowed, nibbled her lower lip. “This is important.”

Of course it was important. It was Ella’s first party as a planner. In a small—very small—way, it was her dress rehearsal for Elliot’s bash. So, with a sigh, Chase reeled in his libido and gave her arm a reassuring squeeze.

“It’s going to be perfect.”

“It better be. If I can’t manage a party this size...”

For the first time since he’d known her, Ella appeared truly distressed, and Chase realized that while he’d been focused on how much was at stake for his uncle, he’d forgotten how much Ella had on the line. He told his conscience he was doing her a favor by providing backup, albeit covertly.

“It’s natural to be nervous.”

“I guess so.”

“Linens,” he said resolutely.

Chase had asked Elliot’s butler to go through his mother’s things, which were stored in the estate’s attic, and send over what he needed. Several boxes had been delivered the previous day, but Chase hadn’t opened them yet. Luckily, Dermott had labeled them.

Chase opened the flaps on the one marked LINENS and pulled out an ivory table cloth and matching napkins that hadn’t seen the light of day in more than two decades.

“Nice,” Ella murmured, running her fingers over the fabric. “Irish linen with hand-tatted lace.”

“If you say so.”

“It’s very elegant. The perfect backdrop.” She unfolded one of the napkins. “It looks like everything will need to be pressed.” She glanced over at him. “Go turn on your iron.”

“My iron?” He blinked.

“You do own one, right?”

“Ella, I send out everything that needs to be pressed.”

“I should have realized...” She closed her eyes briefly before her expression brightened. “You know what? I’ve got it covered.”

She grabbed the cell phone from her purse and punched in a number.

“Sandra? It’s Ella,” she said when the other person answered. “It looks like I need your help after all.”

While they waited for her friend to ride to the rescue with Ella’s iron, Chase helped Ella unpack the dishes from another box.

“Your mother had great taste,” Ella remarked, lifting a bone china plate edged in gold from its protective wrapping.

Chase vaguely recalled seeing it one Thanksgiving. He’d been six or seven years old at the time, and the reason the occasion stuck in his head was because he’d accidentally broken a matching dessert plate, and she’d been livid.

“Great taste,” he agreed with a nod. “It was maternal instincts she lacked.”

How else to explain how the woman could leave her child behind without a backward glance?

He waited for Ella’s apology. Chase didn’t share his story often, but whenever he had this was where women told him how sorry they were. Not Ella.

She said, “That sucks.”

Her candor had him snorting in surprise. “Yeah. It does.”

“My mom was really good at mothering. She considered it her career. She could have had a job. She had a business degree and had worked in a brokerage firm before she met and married my dad. But she chose to stay at home, which of course, she could afford to do. Still, a lot of her friends who stayed home after having kids hired nannies.”

“I had a nanny,” Chase said.

“My mom said she didn’t want anyone else raising her child.”

“She sounds wonderful.”

“She was.” Ella tipped her head to one side on a sigh. “I always thought it was ironic that even though she didn’t want anyone else raising her child, that was what wound up happening anyway.”