After the Party (12 page)

In lieu of offering condolences, which he doubted she wanted and which were sure to turn the mood maudlin, Chase repeated her phrase.

“That sucks.”

“Big time.” Ella’s tone was wistful when she asked, “Do you ever wonder what your life would have been like if your mom had stuck around after your dad died?”

“I used to. For several months after I moved into Uncle Elliot’s house, I laid awake at night listening for the sound of her heels on the hardwood in the hallway. I was sure she’d come back for me.” Chase swallowed after making the admission. What was it about Ella that made it so easy to share secrets that he’d kept from everyone else? “What about you? Do you ever wonder how things might be if your mom were alive?”

She nodded. “At first, I pretended my mom was just on an extended vacation. About the year mark, I started telling people that she’d been captured by pirates.” Her laughter was dry but not without humor. “My mom would have loved that. Not actually being captured by pirates, but my imaginative explanation.”

“She sounds like a lot of fun.” And, from what Chase could tell, the apple hadn’t fallen far from the tree.

Ella nodded. “When my dad started to date again, that’s when I finally accepted that she was gone.”

Chase recalled what she had told him when they’d run into Camilla at The Colton. Ella had wanted a mother, but Camilla hadn’t been interested in being one to her.

“I think you must have a lot of your mom in you.”

“Thanks.” Those quirky dimples flashed with her smile. “For as much as my life would have been different if my mother were still around, I don’t think I would be. My friend Sandra and I were just talking about that. I haven’t changed.”

Chase had to agree. They may not have known one another for long, but it was apparent that Ella’s cup was always half-full. He pulled a crystal wine goblet from the box in front of him. Had he always viewed his half-empty or had his pessimism begun after his father’s death and his mother’s desertion?

Ella’s gasp drew his attention. He glanced over to see her holding up a spoon and frowning. The filigree detail on the utensil’s handle was hard to make out because of the tarnish.

“I don’t suppose you have any silver polish?” she said.

“Sure. It’s right next to my iron.”

“That’s what I was afraid of.” She reached for her cell phone again.

By the time the doorman announced her friend’s arrival an hour later, Ella already had washed the plates, bowls, serving pieces and glasses they would need, and had cleared off the sideboard to make room for an ice bucket and all of the fixings for a couple of trendy cocktails, whose recipes she’d gone over with him.

She’d moved the vase and a pair of pewter candlesticks that usually graced his dining room table and brought in from the living room a couple of dust-catching orb-shaped knickknacks, all of which had come with the furnished penthouse. Even though he saw them every day, she somehow made them seem new. It was as if they were intended to be showcased together on the sideboard.

It was interesting to watch her work, to watch the same dimples that winked with her smile dent her cheeks now when, lost in thought, she nibbled her lower lip.

Just as he had shed his suit coat and rolled up the sleeves of his oxford shirt, Ella had long ago kicked off a pair of dangerously high heels and lost the loose-knit turquoise sweater that she’d layered over a plain white tank top. Barefoot and wearing only the tank and a denim miniskirt, she didn’t exactly look professional, not how he had come to define it anyway. But he couldn’t argue with her results.

Nor could he argue with the fact that he found her concentration a huge turn-on. Unfortunately, they no longer were alone.

“Sandra! Thank God!” Ella cried, as soon as the other woman walked into the penthouse. “Do you have everything I asked you to bring?”

“Iron from your apartment and silver polish from the store. Check.”

The dark-haired woman directed her response to Ella, but her gaze was on Chase, sizing him up. Her smile told him he’d passed muster.

“This is Chase. Chase, this is my best friend and your savior, Sandra.”

“It’s nice to meet you. And thanks.” He took the bag from her arms.

“It’s nice to meet you, too. And you’re welcome.”

“Um, you don’t need to stick around,” Ella said when Sandra set her purse on the couch. “I have everything under control now.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt that,” her friend replied. But instead of saying goodbye, Sandra turned to Chase and asked, “Has Ella mentioned my family’s barbecue?”

“Sandra!” Ella’s cheeks had turned fuchsia.

Curious and a little amused, Chase played along. “Barbecue? No. She hasn’t.”

“It’s an annual thing that my parents host to raise money for diabetes research.”

“Sandra’s brother was diagnosed as a child,” Ella supplied. The flush was fading from her face, but her eyes were shooting daggers at her friend.

“That’s too bad,” Chase replied. “I had a friend in school who had Type I. Insulin shots every day and one very close call when his sugar got out of whack. It was miserable.”

“Yes. Tony is an adult now, but my parents say they will keep having their barbecue to raise funds until a cure is found. They’ve raised several million dollars so far.”

“Wow. That’s impressive. As is their dedication.”

Sandra smiled. “This year’s barbecue is the weekend after next.”

Chase had a pretty good idea where this conversation was heading, but from Ella’s expression he wasn’t sure how she felt about it.

“The food is excellent and my parents always have first-rate entertainment. Isn’t that right, Ella?”

“First-rate,” she mumbled, looking as if she could kill her friend.

“Ella wasn’t planning parties yet or I’m sure my parents would have hired her. Anyway, if you’re not busy, you’re welcome to stop by. It kicks off around three and goes till whenever. Silent auction winners are announced at eight, and the live auction starts at six.” Sandra smiled innocently before adding, “You can come with Ella.”

Chase offered a noncommittal nod since it didn’t appear Ella had planned to invite him.

Her friend left not long after that, and Ella got down to business ironing the tablecloth and napkins. She shooed him away when he offered to help.

“You hired me to do this,” she reminded him, pointing the business end of the iron at him.

Palms up, he backed away. Not long after that, the doorman called to announce the delivery of the food.

“Oh, my God! It’s early!” Ella exclaimed with a glance at the wall clock. “Your guests aren’t going to be here for another hour and a half.”

“I’ll handle this.”

But once again, she refused. “No. Go do whatever it is you do when you’re getting ready to entertain.”

Expression grim, she grabbed her cell phone and called the restaurant. Chase pitied whoever had the misfortune of answering.

* * *

Ella could have waited till morning to call Chase and learn how the evening turned out. But with excitement and nerves waging a tug-of-war in the pit of her stomach, she gave in and punched in his number just after eleven o’clock.

He answered on the third ring.

“I was wondering when you were going to call,” he said.

“Am I that predictable?”

“Hardly. Actually, I hoped you would stop in for a late-night snack. I have some of those stuffed portobello mushrooms left.”

The intimate timbre of his tone had gooseflesh prickling Ella’s arms. She had a pretty good idea what kind of snack Chase had in mind and it had nothing to do with leftovers. But sex wasn’t the reason, or at least it wasn’t the only reason, for her call.

“Do you have a lot of food still?”

She hoped not, but if he did, it wouldn’t be because the meat had dried out or gone cold. Ella had verbally chewed out the manager at The Colton for sending everything over early, and she’d promptly sent it back with the delivery man with instructions that the order be made from scratch and arrive at the agreed-upon time.

Low laughter greeted her question. “You have a one-track mind.”

“I could say the same about you.”

He chuckled a second time. “The food got rave reviews from everyone. Almost all of the appetizers went. The stuffed mushrooms were a hit, just as you predicted, but I put a couple aside for you.”

“Thoughtful.”

“It gets better. I also saved you a slice of strawberry cheesecake.”

Her mouth watered. “You’re a saint.”

“Given what I’m picturing us doing after you eat it, calling me a saint is a bit of a stretch.”

Grinning, she asked, “What about the beef tips?”

“There were enough left for one meal. I sent them home with Uncle Elliot.”

“Did he enjoy himself?”

“Yes.”

Even in that one syllable, she heard concern. “Chase?”

“He arrived late, said he’d mixed up the date even though I spoke to him earlier in the day to remind him. Then, throughout the meal, he seemed...scattered.”

“Have you had any luck on getting him to the doctor? He needs to be seen by a specialist, whether he wants to go or not.”

“I know.” Chase sighed. “I called my physician and asked for a referral. He gave me the name of one of the most respected neurologists in the field. I mentioned it to Elliot. He doesn’t see the need. He said he’s fine.”

“He’s probably just scared. I’d be if suddenly I couldn’t remember simple things.”

“I don’t know what else to do,” Chase admitted.

They talked a little longer, touching on inconsequential topics. While they spoke, she pulled the futon flat. The thunking sound it made wasn’t overly loud, but Chase must have heard it.

“What was that?”

“The futon. I’m getting ready for bed.”

They both were silent for several seconds. Then he said, “You’re probably tired.”

“You’d think so. In fact, I’m wide awake, thanks to nerves and excitement. My first party was a success.”

“That was never in doubt.”

“Thanks for that.”

“For what?”

“Having faith in me. You don’t know what that means.”

“Ella...I...I do have faith in you.” His emphatic tone seemed out of place. But then he was saying, “I should let you go.”

“Yeah. It’s late,” she agreed, albeit disappointed.

A few seconds of silence ticked by during which she could hear Chase breathing. His labored breaths matched her own.

“Ella?” he said at last.

“Uh-huh?”

“It’s not
that
late.”

Her heart knocked out an extra couple of beats. “What do you have in mind?”

She’d been thinking phone sex. But she liked his idea much better, when he replied, “I’ll tell you when I get there.”

TEN

With Chase’s party
out of the way—and by all accounts a success—Ella began to focus in earnest on Elliot’s wake. The older man had signed off on the invitations. Ella was especially pleased with her design: white ink on black cardstock that was layered over another piece of white cardstock, both of which were held together with a quarter-inch-wide piece of grosgrain ribbon. Elegant, sedate, they set the tone.

Ella had addressed and mailed all of them a week earlier. Already a few dozen of the 692 guests had confirmed their attendance.

Nearly seven hundred guests! OMG!

With just six weeks left to plan it, she already had spent more than a few sleepless nights thinking about the logistics involved.

Before the invitations had gone out, she’d tried to talk Elliot into having the wake in the city. Several hotels had banquet facilities that could accommodate such a large party, with the added bonus of providing valet parking, catering, bar services and a wait staff. But he’d been adamant about hosting it on his estate. That meant she had to hire people to perform all of those services.

Even if she got lucky and the weather was gorgeous on the day of the event, Ella needed to have places for everyone to sit, to eat and facilities for them to use when nature called. Chase had reminded her of that, although she’d already figured it out for herself. He was full of suggestions, and a surprisingly good sounding board. Despite the unorthodox way she’d launched her business and the job he’d given her out of pity, he took her seriously. He believed in her. Talk about a powerful aphrodisiac. But then, what was going on between them went beyond sex. At least it did for her.

California.

Ella had made it her buzz word. Every time she found herself falling for him, she said it as a reminder that eventually he would return to his home on the West Coast.

She’d been repeating those four syllables a lot lately.

On the agenda for this day was visiting Elliot’s estate so she could draft a layout and determine where everything would be set up.

She had blocked off what remained of the morning for their meeting, as well as a couple of hours in the early afternoon if need be. But she wanted to wrap up by two o’clock. Sandra’s family barbecue started at three. To save herself time, as well as a trip back into the city, Ella had a garment bag with the outfit she was going to wear. And, since Sandra’s mother had insisted Ella stay the remainder of the weekend, an overnight bag was packed and sitting near the door.

Elliot had called the day before to say he would be sending a car to fetch her. As Ella waited, she consulted her notes, which already had grown from a few paragraphs to a few dozen pages, and were now organized alphabetically and cross-referenced by potential vendors and typed into her handy new tablet—a gift from Chase.

Elliot may have told her that cost was no object, but Ella was determined to get the best price and value for the money she spent. That meant getting estimates. And getting estimates took time, more time than Ella felt she had to spare. But it couldn’t be helped.

When the buzzer sounded—the super had repaired the intercom system at Chase’s insistence—she pressed the intercom and said, “I’ll be right down.”

She didn’t wait for a reply. Instead, she stuffed the tablet into her purse, slung it and the overnight bag over one shoulder, snagged the garment bag and headed down.

She was out of breath by the time she reached the lobby. The sight that greeted her did little to improve her lung capacity. Chase was waiting outside. He was dressed in a pair of khaki pants and a white button-down shirt whose sleeves he’d rolled halfway up his forearms. It was as casual as she’d ever seen him, and she had to say, she liked the look, especially since his expression was as relaxed as his attire.

She grinned as she opened the door. “I didn’t realize you were the one who had buzzed, or I would have let you in rather than racing down here with all my stuff.”

“So I gather. Taking a trip?” He took the garment bag from her hands as he spoke and then transferred the strap of the overnight bag to his shoulder.

“Not a trip. I have...a thing tonight,” she finished.

Ella had debated formally extending to Chase the invitation Sandra had tossed out before his dinner party. The two of them had spent a lot of time together since then, either at his penthouse or in her tiny efficiency. He didn’t mind coming to her less-than-luxurious place.

He’d done so after his dinner party, arriving at midnight with the slice of cheesecake he’d saved for her in hand and a gleam in his eye that had turbo-charged her hormones. They’d made fast work of stripping each other down to bare skin, after which they put her futon to good use. An hour shy of dawn, they shared the dessert before finally falling asleep.

To Ella’s disappointment, she’d awoken alone just after nine o’clock. A note was on the pillow that Chase had used.

I didn’t want to wake you, but I had to go. I’ll call you later. —C

C
for Chase.

C
for casual.

C
for California.

Inviting him to attend Sandra’s party as her date seemed to cross a line that both of them had drawn, even if neither of them had said so aloud. They were an item, but they weren’t exactly a couple. The
C
didn’t stand for that.

“Your friend’s barbecue,” he said now.

Hmm, so he had remembered.

She nodded and added, “I’m spending the night at Sandra’s parents’ place. But before then, I have a meeting with your uncle.” She glanced up the block, scanned the handful of cars, taxicabs and delivery trucks. “Elliot said he would send a car for me. When you buzzed, I thought you were the driver.”

“I am.” Half of his mouth quirked up as he deposited her garment bag and small carry-on in the trunk of his car. “When I heard he was sending someone for you, I volunteered.”

Ella grinned in full. “How thoughtful.”

“You only say that because you can’t read my mind,” he replied, his gaze turning intimate.

She laughed before rising on tiptoe to brush her lips against his. As she started to ease away, however, Chase hauled her back for a proper, curl-your-toes kiss.

“Did you have to stop?” she murmured breathlessly when he drew back.

“Unfortunately. We don’t have time for anything else. My uncle is expecting you and, as you mentioned, you have plans yourself later on.”

Oh, this was awkward, Ella decided, as fog from the kiss cleared from her brain.

“Um, about that. Elliot had offered to have his driver take me over to Sandra’s parents’ house in the Hamptons since it’s not that far from his estate.”

“I know. I will.”

“You don’t mind?”

“Not at all.”

He opened the passenger door and Ella got in. She only had a few seconds to make up her mind as she watched him jog around the hood of the car to his door.

When he opened it, she asked, “Do you want to come with me?”

“To the barbecue?”

“Yes.”

Chase slid the key in the ignition and started the car. Cool air poured from the vents, which was a good thing given the heat outside. It didn’t help that Ella was in the proverbial hot seat thanks to her friend’s big mouth.

“Look, Ella, you don’t have to feel obligated to invite me just because I’ve agreed to drive you there.”

“I don’t. I want you to come.”

She said it quickly, perhaps a little too quickly, she decided, when Chase frowned.

“Ella—”

She lifted her shoulders. “If you don’t want to go with me, I understand how things are.”

Even though he had just eased his car into traffic, he hit the brake and shifted back into Park. Behind them, horns blared. He unrolled his window to put his hand out and wave them around. Then he gave Ella his full attention.

“What is it you think you understand?”

“Well, just that we aren’t
that
kind of couple.”

“That makes things clear as mud,” he grumbled. “What kind of couple do you think we are?”

The casual kind. The kind that sleeps together.
Even though she didn’t say the words aloud, they left a sour taste in her mouth.

“We’re not the kind of couple that spends time with family and close friends. Well, my family and close friends,” she clarified, since she already had spent plenty of time with Chase’s uncle and de facto father and would do so again today.

He appeared ready to argue. His brow knitted and his mouth opened. But he clamped it shut, shifted the car into gear once again, and without another word, merged into traffic.

Was he mad?

If she had to pin an emotion to his current mood, perplexed would fit. Well, that made two of them who were confused. Other than awkward small talk, the drive to Elliot’s was accomplished in silence.

* * *

Elliot’s Long Island estate was much as Ella had expected it to be. That is to say, ginormous. And, much like his office in the city, it was a child’s fantasy brought to life with a full-size Ferris wheel and a go-cart track that snaked around a huge inground swimming pool, over a bridge and under a waterfall.

“This is awesome,” she whispered. Even if it was going to complicate her layout plans significantly.

Chase parked in the circular drive, the centerpiece of which was a fountain where a trio of life-size elephant sculptures spouted water from their upturned trunks.

“
Absurd
is the word a lot of people use.” But his expression bordered on fondness. To her relief, the awkwardness from earlier appeared to have dissipated. “Wait till you meet Dermott. You’ll understand.”

She did.

When the door opened, a man of about seventy stood in the foyer wearing unrelieved black. The color was sedate. The style? Avant-garde would have been putting it mildly. A vest and genie pants. Yet the older man, chin raised in such a way that he appeared to be looking down his nose, carried it off with a definite air of dignity.

Chase didn’t smile, but his expression told her he wanted to. “Hello, Dermott. I see you haven’t talked Elliot into a new uniform yet.”

“Not yet, sir. No. But hope springs eternal. This must be Miss Sanborn,” the butler added then, a hint of British in his speech.

“It is.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” she said.

“The same. Your uncle is expecting you both. I believe you will find him in the media room.”

“How is he?” Chase asked quietly.

Dermott glanced at Ella. “It’s as we discussed on the telephone yesterday.”

From Chase’s expression, whatever the two of them had discussed was not good.

“I see.”

“May I bring you something to drink?” Dermott asked before they could brush past him. “Lunch won’t be served for another half an hour.”

Chase glanced at Ella. “A glass of water would be great, with a slice of lemon if you’ve got it,” she said

Dermott nodded. “And you, Master Chase?”

“The same, but bring me a couple of extra-strength aspirin instead of the lemon.”

“Very good.”

“Do you have a headache?” Ella asked as she followed Chase through the home.

“No. But I will.”

* * *

Chase had predicted a headache. He should have predicted nausea, as well. His stomach started to churn as soon as they entered the media room. Elliot was dressed, but hadn’t shaved and his hair made it appear as if he’d just rolled out of bed. It stuck out in random tufts on his head. He was seated in the last of six rows of high-backed leather chairs, munching on popcorn as he watched an animated movie.

He flashed a delighted grin when he saw them.

“Oh, good. You’re right on time. Come and have a seat. The next episode is just about to start.” He nodded to the screen. “No one makes cartoons today that can hold a candle to the classics put out by William Hanna and Joseph Barbera.”

“Oh, my God! I know!” Ella took the seat next to Elliot and reached for some popcorn.

She and his uncle were a matched set. Or they would have been if Elliot’s eccentricities were merely that. Chase was troubled by his uncle’s disheveled appearance and that was before Elliot smiled at Ella and said, “I knew I liked you. Remind me again who you are.”

Ella paused with a handful of popcorn midway to her mouth. Her tone was gentle, her eyes full of understanding, even as Elliot’s had clouded with confusion.

“I’m Ella. I’m here about your wake.”

“Oh, God! I’m dying?” Elliot’s face crumpled.

She immediately dropped the popcorn and reached for his hand with both of hers. “No. You’re fine. Perfectly fine, Elliot.”

It was a lie, but one Chase was grateful for at the moment. Elliot was getting worse. Ella was right that he needed to be seen by a doctor. Even if the diagnosis was Alzheimer’s, Elliot, Owen and Chase all needed to know exactly what they were dealing with, what could be done to help, and what the future held.

“Why am I having a wake then?” Elliot asked.

“It’s not really a wake. You just wanted to call it that. It’s actually just a big party.”

“A party? I love parties. I’ve been known to throw some great ones, haven’t I, Chase?”

“Yes,” he managed around the lump in his throat.

“What are we celebrating?” Elliot wanted to know.

Ella didn’t miss a beat. “Your long and storied career as the head of Trumbull Toys.”

“I’m the guest of honor?”

The older man’s expression brightened even as Chase’s heart sank.

“Yes, you are,” Ella told him.

She was still holding Elliot’s hand. If she felt pity, she didn’t show it. Instead, her smile was reassuring, so much so that Chase himself took comfort in it.

His heart squeezed. It was right then that he realized the danger he was in. He’d already fallen under Ella’s spell. How could a man not? She was sexy, gorgeous, vivacious and fun. But what he was feeling right now went beyond being charmed by her exuberance or turned on by her looks.

“What’s wrong, Chase?” his uncle asked. “You look like you might faint. Are you feeling well?”

Both Elliot and Ella were staring at him.

“I’m fine. Nothing’s wrong.”