Authors: Cydney Michele; Rax Lutishia; Grant Lovely
Crush (11 page)
5
“Why, if it isn’t Chaz Covington calling, and after hours no less. Is this business or pleasure? I prefer the latter.” Elizabeth fairly purred as she idly fingered a strand of perfectly shaped black pearls. She stood at the floor-to-ceiling windows of her ultramodern condo on Michigan Avenue and gazed at the striking nighttime view.
“Would you accept that it’s pleasurable business?” Chaz answered, his voice unconsciously seductive. “I wanted to thank you once again for bringing our latest donor on board. His company’s million-dollar pledge is unparalleled, and your father’s offer to sponsor this year’s fund-raising ball—well, Liz, I’m in your debt.”
“Umm, and I know just how you can repay me.”
“Really, how?” Chaz asked.
“Come over to my place. Dinner, and especially dessert, is on me.”
Chaz loosened his tie as he leaned back in a chocolate brown, leather executive chair. He was in his home office, resplendently decorated in brown, beige, and ivory tones. Decor that relaxed him, as did the two fingers of vintage scotch he sipped from a crystal snifter. “A generous offer, but one I must decline.”
“Why, Chaz?” Elizabeth asked, with a pout in her voice. “I’m at the condo. No one will know.”
Chaz chuckled. “We both know differently. Your father has eyes everywhere. Especially anywhere you are.”
“Then you name the place. We’ll meet for a drink. That’s all.” Elizabeth sipped a drink as well, her third glass of wine. It was the only reason she had the nerve to be so brazen, intimidation usually barring her ability to do so. And Elizabeth didn’t intimidate easily. Chaz had the kind of confidence and swagger rarely seen in men, combined with a shrewd mind and intellect honed since birth. It was one of the reasons Elizabeth’s father adored him, and had made no secret of his desire for Chaz to run for office—state senator for starters, and then congress and beyond. Kenneth Owens was the one who’d suggested—translation: demanded—that Elizabeth cultivate a business relationship with Chaz, even as he’d warned against anything further happening between them. “The man has a stellar reputation,” her father had said, his deep voice powerful and commanding. “I don’t want to see it soiled.” He’d then eyed his daughter in a way that reminded Elizabeth of her promiscuous past, a past her father was well aware of, having paid hundreds of thousands in “shut up and go away” money over the years. Elizabeth’s husband, Max, also came from old money. Neither family would tolerate scandal.
“You’re a smart, beautiful woman, Liz. Your husband is lucky to have you. But I’ve been on the other side of that unfaithful coin and, believe me, it doesn’t feel good.”
“I know how it feels. Do you think Max has been a saint? Ha! Far from it. He couldn’t care less if I slept around.”
“Oh, really? Then have Max call me and tell me that it’s all right to meet you. And then have him hand the phone to your dad.”
Elizabeth laughed. “You irresistible jerk. Just remember, I’m ready. Anytime, anywhere . . .”
Chaz’s brow creased as he remembered the desire-laden e-mails he’d read every day this week before placing them in a folder—at least five so far.
Liz?
After agreeing to meet the following week to discuss the holiday fund-raiser, Chaz ended the call. He picked up his drink, walked from his home office to his tastefully masculine master suite—heavy black furniture made lighter with tones of tan, gray, ivory, and strategically placed splashes of red. He finished his drink, undressed, and stepped into the shower. He was totally unaware of the picture he painted: a tall bar of chocolate that was toned without being bulky, with nice tight buttocks and a “package” that would make even Scrooge shout “Merry Christmas!” As he lazily soaped said package, he thought about the woman who zealously raised money for his foundation. Whatever the motive, her efforts gave her clout in Chaz’s eyes because in helping the foundation, Elizabeth was helping keep alive his mother’s memory. For Chaz, the sun had risen and set on Camilla Covington and all these years later, he still keenly felt the pain of her loss. But while he had a soft spot for Elizabeth and found her attractive, she was off limits to him. She was married.
Besides, Liz is too classy a woman to send me e-mails like the ones I read. Isn’t she?
He began to harden as he recalled the words of the writer—the detailed explanations of what she wanted to do to him and what she wanted to have done to her. He switched the water from hot to cold and quickly finished his shower. After toweling off, he walked to the phone, not pausing to cover his near-flawless nakedness. There was someone he had on his speed dial for moments like this. It was time to give her a call.
Liz?
After agreeing to meet the following week to discuss the holiday fund-raiser, Chaz ended the call. He picked up his drink, walked from his home office to his tastefully masculine master suite—heavy black furniture made lighter with tones of tan, gray, ivory, and strategically placed splashes of red. He finished his drink, undressed, and stepped into the shower. He was totally unaware of the picture he painted: a tall bar of chocolate that was toned without being bulky, with nice tight buttocks and a “package” that would make even Scrooge shout “Merry Christmas!” As he lazily soaped said package, he thought about the woman who zealously raised money for his foundation. Whatever the motive, her efforts gave her clout in Chaz’s eyes because in helping the foundation, Elizabeth was helping keep alive his mother’s memory. For Chaz, the sun had risen and set on Camilla Covington and all these years later, he still keenly felt the pain of her loss. But while he had a soft spot for Elizabeth and found her attractive, she was off limits to him. She was married.
Besides, Liz is too classy a woman to send me e-mails like the ones I read. Isn’t she?
He began to harden as he recalled the words of the writer—the detailed explanations of what she wanted to do to him and what she wanted to have done to her. He switched the water from hot to cold and quickly finished his shower. After toweling off, he walked to the phone, not pausing to cover his near-flawless nakedness. There was someone he had on his speed dial for moments like this. It was time to give her a call.
6
Two hours later, a sexually satisfied Chaz lay next to the former girlfriend he’d known since high school, Taylor Bates. Taylor was the one married woman for whom Chaz made an exception and shared intimacy. They’d dated, briefly, while attending colleges on opposite sides of the country, but couldn’t sustain the long-distance relationship. When Taylor moved to Chicago, after marrying a prominent doctor, they rekindled their friendship. The two couples had even dined together—Chaz and Jennifer, and Taylor and her husband, James. But three years ago, James was severely injured in a head-on collision and paralyzed from the waist down. He’d offered to divorce Taylor, but she wouldn’t hear of it. She loved him and vowed to stay by his side. But unlike her unfortunate husband, Taylor had shared with Chaz that she was “very much capable of feeling below the waist.” James did his best, and Taylor was grateful they could still share intimacy. But sometimes his tongue and fingers just weren’t enough. She needed something to go deeper, and eventually even her vibrator wouldn’t suffice. She didn’t need something, but someone. After two years of stress, sacrifice, and pleading with Chaz, he agreed to sleep with her.
The arrangement had worked out for both of them. Chaz, with his high profile, was very protective of the image he’d cultivated since graduating law school. He was known as an honest, fair man of integrity. And he was. But he was also compassionate and discriminating. By the time he slept with Taylor, after her husband’s accident, Chaz had been celibate for a year himself. The two didn’t get together often, only every couple months or so. They were “in case of emergency” lovers, “take off the edge” partners, and the best of friends.
“How’s James?” Chaz asked, turning on his side to face Taylor.
“He’s okay. Some days are better than others. Today was a good day.”
“Has he given any more thought to serving on my foundation’s board?”
Taylor smiled, turned from her back to her side, and faced Chaz. “I think he’s going to do it. Thanks again for thinking of him, Chaz. Sometimes he feels so worthless, even though he’s still consulting at the hospital and now teaches at the university two days a week.”
“I wish I could do more for him.” Chaz sighed and flopped onto his back. Chaz had prosecuted the driver for negligence and won the case. But the perpetrator, a fairly successful businessman, filed for bankrupty. The Bateses had yet to see a dime.
“You’re doing plenty, believe me. James enjoys the man-time he spends with you . . . attending the Bulls’ games, your grueling chess marathons. And I . . .” Taylor rubbed a hand across Chaz’s firm, flat stomach and peered into the distance. “I don’t know how I’d do this without you.” Taylor kissed Chaz’s cheek. “So what about you? How are things?”
“I’ve got a stalker.” A smile accompanied what could have been a rather serious pronouncement.
“A what?” Taylor sat up in bed. “Who? Where? When?”
Chaz laughed and joined Taylor in a sitting position. “Whoa, detective. There’s not enough evidence to convict anyone, or to know their identity.” He gave Taylor a brief rundown of the week’s events.
“Who do you think it could be?”
Chaz shrugged. “It could be anyone.”
“That’s what you get for being so fine.” Taylor gave Chaz a playful nudge.
“You’re finer than I am. Do
you
have a stalker?”
you
have a stalker?”
“No, but I don’t have a commercial on television either, running every five minutes.” Taylor mimicked Chaz’s somber punch-line delivery. “If you don’t get paid . . .”
“I don’t get paid,” they finished together, and then fell out laughing.
“I know who it probably is,” Taylor said, after a pause.
“Who?”
“Your loyal assistant.”
“Lois?” Chaz asked incredulously. “That’s ridiculous.”
“You think so?”
“I
know
so. Lois is staunchly religious. I’d bet my next court victory that the woman is still a virgin.”
know
so. Lois is staunchly religious. I’d bet my next court victory that the woman is still a virgin.”
“Those are the very ones who often do these types of things: those quiet, mousy, ‘religious’ women,” Taylor said, making air quotes. “The ones you’d least expect. I saw her checking you out at the law firm’s five-year anniversary party.”
Chaz looked at Taylor. “You’re kidding, right?”
“No,” Taylor said with a chuckle. “She checked out your ass as you walked away from her. I saw it.”
“Taylor Bates, you’re nothing but trouble, do you know that? Lois Edwards is the last woman on earth who would write the type of notes I received. Trust me.”
“Au contraire, my dear friend, it’s you who needs to trust me. Lois is no different from any other human with a va-jay-jay and eyesight. We see you, we want you. Her close contact keeps her meow meow at a constant purr. If she is a virgin, which I doubt, she’s ready for you to stroke her kitty.”
“Geez, Taylor, you really need to stop it. I’ve never looked at Lois that way.”
“But maybe she’s looking at
you
that way. Don’t be fooled.”
you
that way. Don’t be fooled.”
7
“Whew! Thank God it’s Friday.” Gina leaned against the counter in the break room, casually shaking a protein drink. “Got any hot plans?”
“Yes, really hot,” Lois replied as she dipped a tea bag into hot water. “I’ve got a date with Redbox and a few movie stars.”
“We need to get you a life, girlfriend,” Gina said.
“No, you need to get some business and stay out of mine. What are you doing that’s so special?”
“Going on a blind date. Well, not blind really, I’ve seen his picture. But I’ve never met him.”
“Where you’d see his pic?”
“Dating Web site.”
“Oh my goodness, people really use those things?”
“I initially thought the same thing. Who in their right mind would go online for a date, the same as shopping for shoes, books, or a concert ticket? But my brother’s best friend just proposed to a woman he met online two months ago! I know this guy: smart, good looking, not a perv or anything. So I figured if he was on the site looking for love, then maybe there are other decent men on there.”
“Why didn’t you hook up with him, your brother’s best friend?”
“Felt too incestuous. We all grew up together. Rick’s like my brother. Besides, you know who I’m holding out for. . . .” Gina let the sentence hang when another co-worker came into the break room. She waited until he’d gotten his coffee and left, and then turned back to Lois, with a look.
“Gina, you really need to let go of that fairy tale. I think
Mr. Covington
dates women on another level than you and me.”
Mr. Covington
dates women on another level than you and me.”
“Ha! If you think you and I are on the same level, sweetie, then you’re the one who’s delusional. True, there is that pesky rumor that in all the years he’s had this firm, he’s never had an office romance. But there’s a first time for everything. I plan to be the first and the last.”
“Good luck,” Lois said sarcastically and left the break room.
Gina unscrewed the top on her protein drink, contemplating Lois’s words as she sipped her drink.
I know some things you don’t know, Lois Edwards. Like certain things no man can resist . . . not even the great C.C.!
I know some things you don’t know, Lois Edwards. Like certain things no man can resist . . . not even the great C.C.!
Lois returned to her desk and plunged into work. The cheery mood she’d felt in anticipation of a relaxing weekend had been replaced by a gnawing unease. First there were Gina’s inappropriate comments about her boss. Then there was the letter. Another one. After a day of not receiving anything and hoping it was over, another anonymous letter had arrived with the morning mail.
Lois hadn’t opened it. And while she wanted very much to throw it away, she hadn’t done that either. She’d placed the unopened envelope in the file hidden in the very back of her desk drawer and tried to forget about it. Act as if the letters didn’t exist. But they did. And now, with two said letters hidden away in a file, and several e-mails in a Web folder, Lois felt more and more uncomfortable not letting Chaz know about them.
I should have told him from the beginning.
Lois saved the brief she was typing, took a deep breath, reached for the folder marked “Miscellaneous—N,” and crossed the hall to Chaz’s office. It was time to tell her boss about the nasty file.
I should have told him from the beginning.
Lois saved the brief she was typing, took a deep breath, reached for the folder marked “Miscellaneous—N,” and crossed the hall to Chaz’s office. It was time to tell her boss about the nasty file.
“Mr. Covington?” Lois inquired, having opened his door after a light tap.
“Lois, you’re a mind reader. I was just getting ready to buzz you.” Chaz opened a folder and began examining its contents.
Lois had used up her bravado in the six steps between her desk and Chaz’s office door. So here she stood, frozen like a deer caught in headlights, seemingly unable to loosen her hold on the brass doorknob. She realized that she must look like a fool, but for the life of her, she couldn’t move.
Chaz looked up and noticed Lois still by the door. “Lois?”
Lois willed her legs to move. And then her mouth. “I, uh, Mr. Covington, would you like some more tea before we begin?” Lois was quite pleased when she managed some semblance of a smile. Unfortunately, the expression she donned was closer to that of one about to pass gas.
“Lois, are you all right?”
Lois was literally saved by the bell. “I’ll get that, Mr. Covington.” Instead of answering the phone in his office, the way she’d usually do, Lois rushed back to her desk. “CovingtonLawOfficesthisisLoisspeakinghowmayIhelpyou?”
“Excuse me?”
“I’m sorry.” Lois took a deep breath. “Covington Law Firm. May I help you?”
While Lois handled the call at her desk, Chaz swiveled around and took in the impressive view of downtown Chicago from his lofty fortieth-floor law offices. His eyes narrowed, remembering the words Taylor had uttered a couple nights before :
If she is a virgin, which I doubt, she’s ready for you to stroke her kitty.
Chaz steepled his fingers as he pondered the possibilities. He was a shrewd, detail-oriented attorney whose reputation had been built on his ability to leave no stone unturned when it came to a case. He hadn’t thought so at first, but Taylor’s words, Lois’s odd behavior, and the erotically written e-mails he continued to receive were becoming a cause for concern. Chaz believed he needed to stop what had at first seemed harmless before it got out of hand.
If she is a virgin, which I doubt, she’s ready for you to stroke her kitty.
Chaz steepled his fingers as he pondered the possibilities. He was a shrewd, detail-oriented attorney whose reputation had been built on his ability to leave no stone unturned when it came to a case. He hadn’t thought so at first, but Taylor’s words, Lois’s odd behavior, and the erotically written e-mails he continued to receive were becoming a cause for concern. Chaz believed he needed to stop what had at first seemed harmless before it got out of hand.
Chaz punched the intercom line. “Yes, Lois.”
“Mrs. Smith is on line one, Mr. Covington. And your accountant is on line two.”
“Take messages for both calls and then come in here. There’s something I’d like to discuss.”
Lois opened her desk drawer and hastily placed the manila folder at the very back. Determined to control her skittish nerves, she reached for her iPad and water bottle, then slowly walked back into her boss’s office.
“Close the door,” Chaz said without looking up.
The heartbeat she’d just slowed with deep breaths sped back up.
Get ahold of yourself, Lois!
It wasn’t at all unusual for her and Chaz to work behind closed doors, especially when he was dictating letters or discussing touchy or confidential issues regarding a client’s case. Anger replaced anxiety as Lois sat in one of the chairs facing Chaz’s desk. If she came face-to-face with the culprit behind the nasty notes, the ones that had her so discombobulated, she’d throttle her!
Get ahold of yourself, Lois!
It wasn’t at all unusual for her and Chaz to work behind closed doors, especially when he was dictating letters or discussing touchy or confidential issues regarding a client’s case. Anger replaced anxiety as Lois sat in one of the chairs facing Chaz’s desk. If she came face-to-face with the culprit behind the nasty notes, the ones that had her so discombobulated, she’d throttle her!
“Lois, what I’m about to discuss with you is strictly confidential. I don’t want any of the other lawyers or employees at this firm knowing about this.”
Lois worked to keep her face neutral. “Sure, Mr. Covington. What is it?”
Chaz leaned back in his chair and studied Lois a moment before he spoke. “As you know, I’m still getting the erotic e-mails that started on Monday.”
Lois dropped her eyes. “Yes, I know.”
“My first thought was to simply ignore them, that the sender would soon tire of the game and the e-mails would end. Perhaps that’s still the case. But because of their increased frequency and . . . stronger content . . . I’m not so sure this is still harmless fun. I talked it over with a, um, colleague, who agrees with me.
“Like I told her, it could be anyone. A high percentage of my clients are female, and women lawyers make up twenty-five percent of our profession. Then there are the foundations and other social entities I’m involved with.” Chaz rose from his chair and went to stand by the window. “It’s time to try and learn who’s behind this, before the situation escalates beyond e-mails.”
“I’m afraid that’s already happened, Mr. Covington.”
Chaz turned from the window. “What do you mean?”
“I have something to show you.” Lois went to her desk, retrieved the file, and returned. She walked over and handed it to Chaz, then sat back down. Chaz opened the file and began examining its contents.
“I’m sorry for not showing these to you sooner,” Lois continued, “but . . . I felt the same way you did, that you’d get one or two pieces of this . . . filth . . . and then it would stop. I know how busy you are with the Jimenez case and hoped to spare you from having to deal with this crazy situation.”
Chaz sat down at his desk, and after scanning the first document, reached for his letter opener. “I see you didn’t open this second piece of mail, though I totally understand why reading one was enough.” He hid a smile.
Lois took a breath and confessed. “Actually, I read two.” Chaz looked up, but Lois hurried on. “I was shocked when I opened the mail on Monday, and the only thing I could think of was making sure no one else saw what I’d seen. This was before our meeting when you told me to keep them as evidence. I’m sorry, Mr. Covington, but I destroyed the first letter you received.”
“It’s okay, Lois. I’m sure it was much like these two.”
“They are vulgar and crude. I . . . chose not to read any more. I did, however, notice that the postmarks are from different areas in L.A.”
“Has my exceptional assistant turned detective?” Again, that merest of smiles, the kind that caused Lois’s heartbeat to quicken, flitted across his face.
Lois warmed at the praise and at the way his newly grown mustache framed perfectly succulent lips. “Uh, not exactly. But I’m also curious about who is doing this.”
Chaz nodded, rereading the last letter. He wanted to know this person’s identity, and for more reasons than protecting his name and reputation. A part of Chaz was beginning to enjoy the sexy notes from this unusual suitor and was intrigued at whom she might be. He’d spent way more time than he should have last evening pondering the possibilities. Even now, he worked to keep his manhood in check as he scanned down the page and read the last lines of the letter he now held:
I want your thrusts to reach my core, and I will clinch my muscles to keep you deep inside me. I grow wet thinking about the taste of you. Yum!
Chaz’s soft chuckle piqued Lois’s curiosity. “What does it say?”
“Nothing that you’d want to hear.”
Lois nodded, but said nothing. She couldn’t even admit to herself that she’d like nothing more than to hear the contents of said letters being read from Chaz’s thick lips, in his deep, resonant voice. She’d told herself for two straight years that she wasn’t in love with Chaz Reginald Covington. But that lie was getting harder and harder to swallow.
“Needless to say, this could be an embarrassing situation for the firm if these notes ever became public. I realize you’re here early most days anyway and are therefore often the first to get a look at the mail. I want that to continue, Lois, and for you to help me keep this under wraps.”
“That’s no problem, Mr. Covington. I’ll do anything to help.”
“I’m glad to hear you say that, because there is something else—another reason why solving this puzzle is important.” Chaz’s face hardened slightly, remembering an earlier phone call. “We need to find out who’s behind this letter-writing campaign just in case this isn’t some besotted female’s harmless flirtations.”
“What else could it be?” Lois asked, her expression puzzled until realization began to dawn. “Or maybe someone is intentionally creating fodder for a scandal. . . .”
“Someone like Pete Bennett, for instance, trying to drum up a way to smear my image.”
Lois paused, then shook her head with resolve. “I don’t think so.”
Chaz’s brow furrowed as he looked at Lois intently.
“I mean, well, of course I can’t be certain.” Lois swallowed the sudden lump in her throat. “Everyone knows that Mr. Bennett hates you.”
“And you heard with your own ears the verbal threat he recently made.”
Lois nodded. “Yes, I heard it.”
“He still hasn’t backed down. I just got off the phone with a buddy of mine who heard him on the golf course, maligning my name. I wouldn’t put it past that scumbag to try something like this.”
They were silent a moment, remembering how Lois had been in Chaz’s office when Pete Bennett had called. Chaz had answered via speakerphone, allowing Lois to hear the heated conversation in its entirety. Acting intuitively, Lois had pressed the message center’s RECORD button. Chaz never forgot a threat made against him, and Lois never forgot anything concerning Chaz.
Finally Lois spoke. “It could be Mr. Bennett, Mr. Covington. But I don’t think so.”
Chaz twirled a paperweight and once again Taylor’s warning came to his mind.
Could you be right, Taylor? Could the woman who types my briefs now want to get in my briefs?
Chaz quickly thought back to the firm’s social functions. Lois had come alone—except for last year’s Christmas dinner, when she’d brought her mother. There were no personal pictures on her desk, and while their conversation was 90 percent business, he’d never heard Lois mention a man—boyfriend or otherwise. In this moment, Chaz realized that, aside from the fact that she was an exceptional assistant, he knew very little about the woman sitting across from him. Chaz had been honest when he’d told Taylor he’d never looked at Lois “that way” before: as a woman with sexual urges who thirsted for love. But perhaps, he concluded, it was time to view Ms. Lois Edwards in a different light.
Could you be right, Taylor? Could the woman who types my briefs now want to get in my briefs?
Chaz quickly thought back to the firm’s social functions. Lois had come alone—except for last year’s Christmas dinner, when she’d brought her mother. There were no personal pictures on her desk, and while their conversation was 90 percent business, he’d never heard Lois mention a man—boyfriend or otherwise. In this moment, Chaz realized that, aside from the fact that she was an exceptional assistant, he knew very little about the woman sitting across from him. Chaz had been honest when he’d told Taylor he’d never looked at Lois “that way” before: as a woman with sexual urges who thirsted for love. But perhaps, he concluded, it was time to view Ms. Lois Edwards in a different light.
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