Chase smiled as he pushed his chair back from the table and rose to his feet. He extended his right hand toward the other gentleman rising from the table. Luiso Amerretti shook it firmly and slid his own chair away from the cleared dining table. The elder gentleman continued to exclaim about Chase’s new import plans and the few designs for cruise liners that had been laid out before him. Chase had definitely found a new client. He smiled as he gathered up the last of his papers and organized them into his soft leather briefcase. Chase measured out and dropped a few large bills on the table for the slight built waitress, who unfortunately had held a good portion of Mr. Amerretti’s attention throughout the simple, but fabulous meal. The aging Italian male definitely had an eye for the ladies, unluckily for the ladies, it wasn’t all he had for them, and the ladies in question usually didn’t have an eye for him. Their waitress had smiled and dealt with the old man’s rather flamboyant and unwanted attentions mostly because she recognized Chase and knew it would be worth her while to make his client happy throughout the meal. She had managed to skirt his wandering beefy hands quite nicely, while making it seem like she didn’t mind the attention, and for that, Chase left her a very tidy sum.
“Ah – I was hoping to see our waitress again and thank her for such a wonderful service.” Luiso Amerretti drawled, one or two too many glasses of sweet liquor weighing on his tongue, slurring his words into an almost unrecognizable leer. Chase almost laughed. For this true-Italian to become so inebriated on just a few glasses of the Romana Black Sambuca was just the icing on the cake of the hilarity of the meeting. He could easily tell that the man had mafia ties – although, not a close connections – but he attempted to hide them from the minute he had opened his mouth. Chase half expected him to check the bottom of their table for a wire tap before ordering his food. The gentleman, to use a term loosely, had wavered from confident to overly cautious and back every couple of minutes. Chase preferred not to have any dealings with the mob in the city, but his research had shown these construction projects and material imports would have nothing to do with the mob’s regular businesses. This was Luiso’s movement into securing his own future, should some of his connections turn south.
“Tamary has just left for break, sir.” The busboy informed him as Chase fought to steer him toward the main dining hall and the exit. Around them, the crystal features of the Bear Lounge twinkled. Chase had to pause so that Luiso wouldn’t run him into the enlarged crystal bear juggling gold balls. He could also see Tamary peak her dark head from the kitchen doors waiting for them to leave so she could attend her other guests. Chase chuckled to himself and made sure to guide the man away from another young waitress on their way past the maître d’ and out of the gilded front doors.
As they reached the street, Chase crossed his fingers that the man hadn’t driven. He watched as a young valet signaled a very professional-looking man standing nearby, who headed for the garage. The valet then approached Chase to quietly inform him that Mr. Amerretti’s driver would be around shortly, Luiso running on rapid pace about the excellent hostess. Chase knew from experience that the driver was a no-nonsense type that kept Mr. Amerretti well under his wife’s supervision, even when the buxom young Roman woman wasn’t around. He gave a little sigh of relief and related the message to his guest, who had changed tactics and was now quite obviously extolling the virtues of his youngest daughter. How he had turned to the prominent features of his family, Chase wasn’t sure, but he nodded appropriately anyway. He had briefly met the wife once, but had never had the pleasure, or perhaps misfortune of meeting Luiso’s three glorious daughters. From what he could gather, Amerretti’s youngest was no more than 6 or 7 and already she was enrolled in the best schools with the best extra-curricular and hobbies – all set to be groomed just like every other rich child of their social class, spoiled with no sense of self or direction save the one given to them. It harkened his thoughts back to his own spoiled fiancée and her inability to decide on anything further than which Prada shoes to buy next and if it should match or contrast her purse. The ‘real housewives’ of this city had nothing on his darling Madeline. It wasn’t that Chase didn’t like her, he just wondered how long it would be before he would be unable to stand anything and everything she currently held in esteem.
The driver pulled the town car around and Chase helped the aging Italian into the back seat, hoping this was the last time he would have to deal with the mob-related man directly. If the gentleman liked his designs, that was fine, but Chase was very clear about maintaining a serious and distinct distance with any of their under the table shipments. Waving off the driver, Chase turned and headed toward the Paris Theater, deciding to drop by the Apple Store on 5th avenue on his way. He glanced at his watch to see if there was enough time to drop into one of the off Broadway productions nearby before heading back to the office to fill out some of the information on his meeting with Amerretti. There wasn’t enough time to see a whole play, but he considered for a moment dropping in for the first act or two and catching a repeat later. Paper work and meeting notes were his least favorite parts of the job, but he had learned early on to keep a detailed record of his meeting with clients and very precise notes on their like and dislikes, and even sometime snippets of conversation he remembered to use in future presentations to them. It made men like Luiso Amerretti feel important that he could recall such details for them. It would be better to document it now while it was still fresh in his memory. He had a feeling he wouldn’t need too much for this particular client – anything that had to do with handsome women would catch Luiso’s attention, but the rest of his board of directors would be a little more difficult to impress. As it currently stood, Ammerretti was in his pocket, but he was also a very shrewd business man and one false move would blow his whole month of work on this outline.
Whistling a non-descript tune, Chase wandered aimlessly to the end of the block, reluctant to return to the 35th floor of his building just yet. The Seagram’s building was somewhat of a wonder, but some days, Chase much preferred being on the outside of the building admiring the architectural beauty. He had to marvel at the designer, who had changed the blinds so they could only open in three positions, keeping the place as a whole in balance instead of some hanging crooked or completely at different angles. Something inside told him to head toward 5th avenue before heading uptown, as he passed across the Avenue of the Americas at 6th instead of turning. Chase knew that Antoinette’s parents usually stayed at the St. Regis Hotel, so he altered his course to see if Mr. Ralston was available for a dinner meeting to discuss his new proposal. Bridgette, Antoinette’s step-sister, had called him a few days prior to see if he would be available to come to her mini-line launch, but it was at the same time as a company function, and he wasn’t able to get out of it, even though he desperately wanted to. He had apologized profusely, only half mocking, and Bridgette had been disappointed, of course, but she had understood and had even let it slip that her father would be in town to see the show and for a few days after. Chase knew Bridgette looked at him as a big brother, especially since they were often in the same town and her two older siblings weren’t around as much anymore. He had thanked her for the information and promised to drop by and see them as soon as he could. Mr. Ralston had mentioned that he had an important business proposition for him to look over, and Chase was never one to pass up a chance to squeak ahead even a tiny bit more. Coming from Mr. Ralston, he could count on it to be safe and highly profitable.
Chase looked up to see the street sign for 5th avenue nearing. He wandered around a falafel stand and the smell of sauerkraut assaulted him, and he hoped it wouldn’t seep into his clothing. He loved the taste, but getting the pungent aroma out of his suits was often hell on his dry-cleaners, who were constantly complaining when he returned for the jackets. They were very nice people, and did fantastic work, but were a little too attached to his clothing. He supposed it was because he saw them so often. Chase waited for the ‘walk’ sign to illuminate the cross walk and very nearly collided with a woman coming from the other direction as he spotted a familiar figure crossing from the diagonal street corner. He apologized in a half-daze and hurried across the street to try to catch up to the figure. At first, he was sure his mind was playing tricks on him. She should have been in Florida, not New York. But, he was sure it was her. She looked different though. Not bad, but there was definitely something different. Her hair was the same tarnished auburn and her figure looked mostly the same, still curvy in all the same places, but there was something more that Chase couldn’t quite put his finger on, and yet, it was still Antoinette. He wasn’t sure why she was in Manhattan, since she could usually be found in her offices in Miami, or not in the country at all, but he had that feeling. His chest tightened and his breathing got shallow. It was her. She must have flown into town to see her family, but Bridgette had been sure that she was not going to make it to the launch this year, since she had a launch of her new line of products to contend with at the same time. Fall was always a busy time in the textiles industry, and Antoinette’s new lines of yarn would be shipping to stores, even though they had been decided months in advance.
Finally, he got close enough to be sure as he watched her smile at the doorman and turn into the St. Regis Hotel. She had gained weight. It was a rounded gain in her midsection that didn’t seem to affect her legs or her face, but she was heavier all the same. She was even more beautiful than he remembered and her skin seemed to glow. Chase wondered when that had happened. Four months ago, she had been rounded and beautiful, but not like this. He smiled briefly to himself. He wouldn’t have even noticed if he hadn’t still replayed every bare inch of her body in his mind daily. Suddenly, Chase stopped and stared in disbelief as a few more puzzle pieces slid home. A man walking too close behind him stepped on the back of his heel and cursed. Chase apologized, but didn’t move. He needed a few moments more to soak it all in. There was absolutely no way – she was pregnant.
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Chase Anthony Brighton stalked gracefully across the checkered tile lobby of his floor and paused to nod at his colleague as the other man stepped into his own office. He gave a short wink to the shapely brunette receptionist doggedly following the old man, and she laughed in return, waving him back to his own business with a quick flip of her fingers. She had no illusions about why she had been hired and given a quick promotion by ‘dear old Mr. Winstead’ and Chase had no illusions that she would be going anywhere anytime soon with her outrageous salary for such simple work. Most of the time, she fetched coffee and made copies – when she wasn’t updating every file in the senile old man’s office to the computers for when he passed on. Chase gave a half-smirk to his own secretary, a young and pretty, but homely looking graduate student from the local university. She smiled serenely and ignored the look he had given her. He could only surmise that she was hoping to get a letter of recommendation to a local design firm at the end of her tenure with him. She was smart enough, and efficient enough, and Chase just didn’t have the heart to be able to break hers. She had sorted and filed and typed all summer, and more than once, her organization skills had come in handy after Madeline had dug through his office and wrecked a presentation. She would get a glowing letter, he guessed, even if she had to write it herself. He leaned on the desk with an air of impatience and allowed her to pick through this morning’s messages in order of importance, or at least what she thought was most important. When she began listing his meetings and consultations for the day, he noticed there was one more message note sheet under the color-coded schedule book. Chase casually leaned over and fished it out; his secretary started slightly, but waited for his to read it calmly before glancing up at him in an obviously bored manner. He had to give the girl respect for knowing he would have zoned out if she had given him this particular message first, and would have probably missed some of his meeting agenda by walking away – and she had the grace not to blush when caught as well. That alone told him what she thought of his loud and often rude caller.
“Tell Mr. Ammeretti that our lunch meeting is still on, but we’re moving it to the Russian Tea room on West 57th street. I’m sure he can find it. If Mr. Ralston calls, put him through. It is very important that I speak with him as soon as possible to set up a meeting while he is in New York.” Chase paused, working out the time table of his day in his head. His schedule currently allowed for a two-hour meeting with Luiso Ammeretti for lunch and then at least a three, no better make that two, hours for an evening meeting with Thomas Ralston if he made it into town early enough. That would be more of a family gathering than a meeting, so he wasn’t worried too much about being around Thomas’s family. He, after all, still had to feign interest in whatever Madeline, his dear fiancée, had called for this time. His secretary had scribbled urgent in quotation marks, but he could see from her eye roll, that it would probably be far from important. Knowing Madeline, it would most likely be what color shoes she should buy at Saks to match that new dress, didn’t he remember the one?, or would he be such a dear and fetch her purchases from Neiman Marcus on his way to her apartment? Chase’s lips lifted into a pleasant smile as he turned his mind away from Madeline and toward the thought of Thomas’s step-daughter. She should be headed into town at least for a little while to catch her sister’s shows while she was still state-side. Catching himself tromping down a road of regret, he addressed his secretary again.
“If Madeline calls, tell her I’ll be out and about for the day, but she can always call my cell. If she’s lost it again, give it to her yet again.” Chase wondered at the patience of his secretary with his new fiancée. “And try not to drop the call too many times this time.” Poor Madeline was always losing things and a cell phone number, or better yet, her new cell phone was often the last thing on her poor little taxed mind. If it didn’t pay for itself or keep her apprised of the latest society gossip, she just wasn’t interested. The only time she could keep track of the damn little cricket was when it was attached to her head and she was trashing some poor girl who didn’t have the same designer fashion sense as Madeline’s witchy little friends. He chuckled to himself as he lifted himself off the edge of his secretary’s desk and headed to his office. If there was one thing right about that thought, it was that Madeline’s mind was taxed by very little. She was quite often vapid, and not for the first time, Chase wondered why he had ever agreed to marry her in the first place. It wasn’t as if his mother actually cared for her either. In fact, Venetia Brighton downright despised the girl. But, since his father’s passing, there was very little that Venetia actually cared for.
Chase supposed it was Thomas’s step-daughter’s fault that he was leg-shackled to Madeline. Antoinette had been the one that introduced him to Madeline in the first place. Back then, she was pretty and perky, but hadn’t seemed as money-hungry, or sometimes downright vicious, as she was now. And then, Antoinette had left a crying Madeline on his doorstep while she jetted off to Malawi, or whatever developing country in who knows where. The only thing Chase had been able to do to get the wailing debutante to shut up had been to kiss her, and then, he couldn’t get rid of her. He had tried to break up with the poor girl twice in the last six years and the only thing that succeeded in doing was giving him a headache. He supposed it could be worse. She was decently pretty, with a good family line, and so airheaded that she would be able to smile and look pretty as he vied for the New York senate seat. Chase knew better than anyone that the Senate seats were hard to secure if anyone tied to the mob opposed you, so he had taken extra care not to impinge on anyone’s known territory or business while building his own. Albeit, Chase had also taken special precautions to make sure his business had no dealings with the mobs or any undercover operations. Import and architecture in New York weren’t the easiest things to keep in clean operation, but at least he was a private and not public shipper, and his reputation in South Carolina had made it easier to hand-select his clientele. Chase was also known for not taking any high profile cases as a rule of thumb, since he didn’t care to get wrapped up in anything deeper than Madeline’s hobbies. These days, he could afford to be picky about his cargo, and demand a higher price because of it.
As he pushed the door closed behind him, Chase wondered how much work he could get done before Madeline would get bored with waiting and call him again. He guessed that he had at least 30 minutes. He could add another 30 minutes if his secretary feigned ignorance and hung up on her a couple of times before either forwarding the call, or giving Madeline his cell number for the tenth time. He didn’t blame her, really. He just wished he didn’t have to deal with the whining about her supposed incompetence it involved and then having to listen to the numerous ‘oh so obvious’ reasons why he should fire her and hire another secretary. The last time, Chase had given the poor secretary a raise. He usually just listened to her tirade until he broke down and mentioned hiring a secretary like Winstead and effectively launched her into another diatribe about how he was going to leave her for a secretary and how would that look in the Post? Usually, chase couldn’t help but mumble “smart” under his breath at that point, attempting to cut her off by any means possible. Chase paused in his musings and flipped on his computer. He loaded his email and scanned through, noticing a new one from Mrs. Ralston, and surprisingly one from his mother as well.
Chase, against his better judgment, opened his mother’s note first and scanned the few lines. He could imagine her ticking away at the keys, careful not to chip one of her manicured nails. His mother had always been a beauty and nothing if not straight to the point, which is what his father had loved so much about her. Lately, she had seemed to waste away in the looming two story mansion and it saddened Chase that she was so lost without his father. However, the neatly worded missive about how she would be grateful if he would take an evening out of his busy schedule to make an appearance at the Ralston house for their annual neighborly get together in Charleston had him raising an eyebrow. Such a flowery skip around her demand that he show up and ‘make the nice,’ as she often called it was almost enough to make him hit the reply button. He supposed it was time to settle down and give his mother grandchildren to break her out of her downward slump. He stayed his fingers over the mouse and looked at the date and time of the other feminine email in his inbox. Since it was getting closer to that time of year, he assumed Mrs. Ralston’s email would have a similar invitation. It would probably have a similar tone as well. Antoinette’s mother had perfected the passive aggressive guilt trip. Chase could remember being on the receiving end of her snide, yet perfectly proper requests more than once in the years he had spent at their summer home in Charleston. He quirked his lips and scanned through the rest of the notices, marking several off as junk mail. There was one from his lawyer, probably about the prenuptial agreement he was drafting, and one from his broker, definitely outlining their plans for the investments next quarter, and one from an address he didn’t recognize. His security measures hadn’t filtered the document out as junk, and yet something made him want to delete the note anyway. His pointer hovered over the link for a moment as he debated whether or not to open it.
Chase’s mind jerked back to the present with the ringing of his cell. He dragged the device out of his pocket and scanned the identification as if he needed it with the obnoxious jingle coming from it: Madeline. He waited for a second while checking the time on his computer before sliding the phone open and answering. He had just enough time to talk to her for a few moments before his noon meeting. Chase made sure to make appropriate murmurs of consent at the contents of Madeline’s busy schedule as he gathered up his contract drafts and designs and filed them away in his briefcase. She continued listing off her plans for the afternoon. Mentally, Chase made a reminder to invite Madeline to stay at the Brighton house for the Christmas get-together with the Ralstons. For some reason, the Brighton house and their holiday party with their neighbors triggered a thought of the email still sitting unopened in his inbox, but he could not place the cause. It continued to weigh on his conscious, as he shut down the computer, but it would have to wait until later, he thought, as he clicked off the monitor and strolled out of his office, motioning to his secretary to lock up when she left. He knew she would understand this to mean he would not be back for the afternoon. Whatever or whoever it was, could definitely wait.
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“Oh yes ,” she lied, splaying her fingers above her bosom with a sigh, amazed at how easily the words poured out of her cinnamon painted lips, “I’m thoroughly addicted to torrid love affairs, you know, because I always fall in love with men that are soon to be wed, and just before the wedding he tells her that it’s over because he loves me and we can run off and live happily ever after.” Antoinette closed her fingers around her thin silver chain, twirling the locket with her thumb. She fluttered her eyelashes and smiled, even if she wasn’t sure if she liked the purr of her voice. It appeared to roll well off her tongue, even if she was being facetious, but sounded strangely fitting coming out of her mouth. Chase watched as she forced herself to focus her attention back on her companion instead of the imaginary future, unconsciously curling her lips into a sneer.
“Yea, well, that’s bullshit. That’s not how it happens here, even if this place acts like Middle England. You soon as well get over it, cause the world doesn’t give a damn.” Antoinette Marie Duke smiled cynically; raising the dark plain shot glass poised in her fingertips in a silent salute before swallowing the amber contents in a quick gulp. He watched as she flinched, the liquid scorching its way down her throat, and he knew it was settling the little flutter of nerves. If she was anything like him, she had butterflies banging against the walls of her stomach that arose the moment he had lit up the door way to her favorite hole-in-the-wall hide out. That felt better coming from her: contemptuous and mocking were a much better fit. As usual, she hid within her mocking approach rather than appear vulnerable. She would refuse to show any sign of weak to Chase Brighton now that she had groveled once before. He watched as she looked around the dimly lit bar for something, anything to look at instead of him. But he knew that not even the twisting swirls of the mahogany bar counter could hold her attention against his nearness. He felt it too, there was no way she couldn’t feel the attraction they had always shared, regardless of what she wanted.
“You know, not much will ever be accomplished if you always keep that attitude about it.” Calmly, surely, Chase took a sip of the foamy gold mixture in front of him. He tried not to make a face as the lukewarm beverage – if you could call it that as it was hardly refreshing – slithered around his mouth and down his throat like the tongue of an over-zealous hooker. It wasn’t his usual drink, but the stale beer would suffice until he could get out of this dive bar and back to the 35th story office he had left to meet with her. Toni cocked her head to the side and stared at him through cracked eyes, her arms crossing over her growing bosoms. He wondered how much longer she would be able to wear the same tops. Slowly her tongue slipped out to rub over her dry lips as she weighed her word choice carefully, her upper lip nearly curling back into the sneer Chase could feel forming. He had to tamp down the reaction to just kiss it off her lips.
“What attitude? You can’t believe that just hoping my issue will disappear will make it pull some kind of David Copperfield shit and poof it’s gone just like that. Just snap your tan manicured fingers and it’s not a problem anymore.” She ran her tongue across her teeth and pulled her lips apart with a loud smack. “Your money won’t buy your way out of this one Chase, it doesn’t matter who you pay off. They still know. They always know.”
“Don’t condescend me, Toni. You were the one that decided to barge into my office and demand that we talk. I didn’t make you fall in love with me, nor did I lead you to believe we would have any kind of future.” As much as he wanted to, he knew she wouldn’t want to fit neatly into his little world, and getting rid of Madeline had proved harder than he had expected.“You know I have to marry a debutante. I’m going to be a politician, that’s how this works. You know that.” The lie stung, but he kept his face passive. Senator-to-Be Chase Anthony Brighton set his beer mug on the lacquered wooden table and motioned for the waitress. She nodded in response and turned to ring up his tab.
Uncrossing one arm to toy with the lemon in her water glass with the tip of her straw, Toni watched the girl from the corner of her eye and told Chase told himself that she wasn’t jealous of the girl’s attention to him. After all, his honey blonde hair seemed to attracted more bar flies than he knew what to do with. The poor girl had been staring at him since he made his way through the door. She probably couldn’t help herself, and he wasn’t sure why. Toni probably saw her as just one more notch on the end of his bedpost before the day was over. Chase watched the waitress glare at Toni as if she wanted to hurt her for even looking at him, and Toni glare back as if she couldn’t believe the stupid chit had the audacity to think she wanted anything to do with him.
Chase smiled at Antoinette’s attention to the waitress. Her gold-green eyes darkened for a minute before her ire was turned back toward him. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe that Antoinette was a debutante, or at least that her mother had attempted to make her one, but she believed in marriage for love and he saw political gain. She was an activist, not a quiet society woman. She had proved that by boycotting her own family’s main factory and raising enough money until they revamped their entire factory into a cleaner, greener, and he had to admit, ultimately more efficient affair. Not to mention her own green company in Miami that sponsored more charities than Chase had known existed.
“Toni, be reasonable here.” Chase took the full brunt of her attention, glaring him in the face.
“Don’t you, Toni me. . .” Antoinette sputtered. “You’re right; you didn’t make me fall in love with you. I don’t love you. This is NOT about me. I don’t want you to call off anything to elope with me you arrogant bastard. I don’t even care who you marry or what your job is. The fact is, you know I’m about to have your child.” Chase opened his mouth to correct her assumptions. But, he could watch the ire rising in her body. He wouldn’t dare suggest it wasn’t his child. “No, shut UP! You know it’s yours. I had testing for CF done, remember? Drawn blood from you, me, and sticking needles into my tummy too? They had to make sure my child was okay. You could commit suicide tomorrow for all I care about your sorry ass. I just want a trust fund set up for this baby because I can’t live on my salary alone and care for an infant, she’ll need a part time nanny. So, either you pay up. . .”
Chase frowned at her over the top sarcasm. He remembered the testing all too well, and was just glad they had all been negative. “I won’t just give you money.” He handed the waitress a ten dollar bill in the same motion that he cut Antoinette off, startling the poor girl for a moment, but she retreated quickly when she realized she wasn’t his target. He could see Toni watching her scurry away, longing and wondered if she wished she could do the same so easily. “How do I know you won’t have an abortion and keep the money for yourself?” The devil’s advocate in Chase sprang to life before he could stop it. After all that testing, he didn’t have that to fear.
Flames leapt to life in her eyes as she swung her head to face his accusations head on. “AN ABORTION?! Who the hell do you think you’re dealing with? Do you not realize just how far along I am? Do you not see the freaking baby belly I’m beginning to sport here? Or did you always look at me as fat?” Toni narrowed her eyes at Chase and glared with every ounce of anger she could muster. When she spoke again, she had pulled control of her voice and the barest cold whisper flowed out of her clinched teeth. “I was about to say, in the baby’s name. I don’t want your money for myself, because if it was just me by myself, I would have walked out of your life completely a long time ago, so get over yourself, jerk. There was a reason I hadn’t called for three weeks since you found out. I wouldn’t have called at all if I hadn’t needed you to take that stupid blood test.” Toni looked away again, and he could see her wishing she wouldn’t have called him this time. Chase could see the thoughts and regrets twirling around her pretty head. About now, she would be sure she could have figured out some way to continue her work and take care of the baby as well, but her mother would have convinced her that Chase should pay for her special nanny. Chase had spoken with her step-father, and knew Mrs. Ralston was pressing hard on Toni. He also knew Toni had a soft spot for her benevolent nanny, who was aging, but she had been Toni’s most favored guardian and tutor and she would be perfect for raising the next generation of the their family.
“I’m sorry.” Chase mumbled, not so sure why he had said that. He reasoned that it could have been a legitimate accusation, but in truth he just wanted to see her reaction to the thought, although he should have been happy with an option where he didn’t pay for a child. He wasn’t sure why he had apologized either, but he suspected it was a moot point. She had reacted how some part of him hoped and actually expected she would, but he didn’t know why he cared. He had already decided that she would never marry him. “I know that we both know women like that. I just got carried away. Please forgive me.”
“Oh bite me. That’s the politician talking again. You don’t need to soothe things over with me about that.” She moved her hand through the air as if to soothe out the tension in it. It didn’t seem to be helping in the least, so she returned her hand to her lap, twirling an errant curl between her fingers when it slipped over her shoulder. Somehow they would have to get along for the sake of the child. Thomas had informed Chase that her mother insisted that she mend fences with the young senator-to-be now that her step-father had decided to support his campaign, and Chase couldn’t think of a reason they couldn’t be amiable . Now was as good a time as any to start.
“Look, I’ll set up the account, just give me a couple of days to get everything in order and get rid of my name.” Chase flinched at the look of hatred that passed through Antoinette’s eyes. Not perceptively of course, she couldn’t know that he was affected by her in any way, just as she blinked to hide her own response, but couldn’t cover it as quickly as he knew she wished to. “Toni, you of all people know that if the press got a hold of this, they’d have a field day. We know all about ‘they,’ and ‘they’ know all about us. Remember? I don’t care if they know it’s my child, I just don’t want them looking into what money is going where.” Chase also didn’t want her knowing how much would be put at her disposal until it was too late for her to return it. It would also allow her to keep her independence in the eyes of her own enemies. He leaned his elbows on the table and rested his chin in his locked fingers, throwing her earlier words back at her.
“Fine, do what you must. I plan to disappear until after the baby’s born anyway.” Chase frowned. Leaving hadn’t been part of the original plans, but he supposed her mother had been driving her so crazy lately with her ideas about ‘Antoinette and Chase together’ that Toni decided that she would have to escape in one way or another. Since her youngest sister, Bridget would be too busy to be around, vacation would seem like the best option. “I think an island vacation is just the thing I need to escape reporters for a while.” Antoinette sighed and sipped the glass of water that had lain virtually untouched next to her upside down shot glass. “Have you had any problems with the press now that Daddy’s going to sponsor your run? I know you didn’t want it to give the wrong idea, but I think he’s right in saying it will show that there isn’t any hard feelings between our families.”
“You do that. As a matter of fact, stop by the office tomorrow and I’ll give you the keys to the villa on Kythria It’s quiet and I can reach you, or you me, should anything happen. Your father has been most gracious in this campaign and I would hate to leave you renting some place.” Chase smiled as his memory supplied snippets of the week they had spent on the beaches near the villa. If he had to go back and pinpoint a date, he guessed the baby had been conceived sometime during those lazy summer weeks, but exactly when would be harder to trace. It didn’t matter. She was going to have a baby. His baby. That alone should have scared him out of his wits, but remarkably, he thought Toni would be beautiful with a full rounded baby tummy. She wasn’t one of those blond stick figures, but her rounded curves easily supported her growing bump and the glowing skin that accompanied it. He closed his eyes and pictured her as she had been that week. It had only been barely five full months since then, but his fingers still itched for the warmth of her skin. It was easy for Chase’s imagination to supply an overflowing stomach underneath her cotton summer dress. He pushed the smile away with a tight grimace. Those times were over and while pleasurable, he had no reason to think of revisiting them. He had returned to get married as his station demanded and Antoinette had made it clear that she would not be that woman.
“The villa? Are we talking about the same villa that this whole mess started at? Chase, I can’t go there.” She didn’t mention anything about not wanting to stir up old feelings and memories. “I’m just going to head to the summer home on Tahiti. My sister should be in Europe until May, so my parents will spend the winter in Los Angeles. Kaitlin’s show is supposed to be in January, so she and Bridgette will spend the months until then tweaking the line and organizing the shows in Paris before the tour.” Toni sipped her water again, but he could see her glance again at the shot glass, clearly well aware of her need to stop social drinking, if not for her health, then for the baby’s. Her cigarette pack lay on the end of the table and he could see her mentally curse. Her smoking would have to stop for the baby’s sake as well, but her cigarettes were a bit harder to put down than the tequila or bourbon bottle, Chase knew that from experience. From the number in the pack, he could tell that she had cut back dramatically to only a few a week, but hadn’t been able to go cold turkey. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to spend any great amount of time in the villa.”
Word count: 2,735 words
Total Word Count: 12,917 words (419 words less than day 8 goal)
Words Left: 37,083
Days Left: 22 days
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