Lost Without You: Book 2 in the Chasing Olivia Series (18 page)

Sunday afternoon, we boarded Chase’s private jet and flew back to reality. Monday morning came fast and it was back to work. I barely had time to unpack from my crazy trip. Needing to make up hours from my extended stay, I didn’t get home until late, and I was exhausted. Tuesday, was much of the same. I’d spoken to Chase, but we haven’t seen each other since Sunday; this past weekend took a toll on his schedule as well, and he’s had to work late every night.

Here it is, Wednesday already, and I haven’t had time to go food shopping since before I left for the wedding. I don’t want to order in again, since there are only so many places that will deliver, so I go out. There’s a great sushi place a few blocks from my apartment, and it’s a warm evening. Taking my time walking though the busy streets of Manhattan, I enjoy the sights and sounds of the city.

Earlier this afternoon, Chase left me a message, saying he needed to work late, again. I’ve been tempted to pay him a visit at his office, but since I don’t like surprises, I’ve refrained.

As I’m walking the few blocks to Taste of Tokyo , a wave of uneasiness washes over me. A feeling that someone in the shadows is watching me. Stopping, I spin and look behind me, my eyes searching behind cars, in store windows, looking for anything out of the ordinary, but there’s no one suspicious. The hair on the back of my neck stands as an ominous feeling surges through my entire body. Continuing my walk, I can’t seem to shake the sense that I’m being watched. Picking up the pace, I take out my cell phone and dial Chase as I walk briskly the rest of the way, needing the distraction.

“Hello there, beautiful. What a pleasant surprise,” Chase coos.

Not wanting to alarm him, I try to talk as normal as I can while I speed-walk toward the restaurant. “Hey, just calling to say hi.”

“Where are you?”

“I took a walk to Taste of Tokyo, was feeling sushi tonight. You still at work?” I ask.

“Unfortunately. There are some contracts I need to look over.”

Approaching the hostess, I order a spicy tuna roll to go. I sit to wait, but I’m still creeped out. I don’t often get these feelings, but when I do, I’m usually right. Talking to Chase helps, but I’d rather he were here with me. “You working late sucks,” I complain as I stare at the counter, willing my food to appear.

“I’d do it every night if it meant getting to spend more weekends away with you,” he breathes.

“We don’t need to go anywhere, I like staying home.” I peek out the glass doors, still searching for something.

“I love that too.”

“Chase—” I start, but change my mind.

“Yeah, baby?”

“Nothing. You should get back to work. Don’t work too hard, though.”

“I’ll try not to,” he teases. “I love you.”

“Goodnight,” I sigh, hanging up. Glancing up at the counter, I’m happy to find my food is waiting for me. Paying the hostess on my way out, I retrace my steps back to my apartment. A light breeze tickles my skin, and there it is again; that feeling someone’s watching me. I sprint the rest of the way back to my apartment, not wanting to know if my instincts are correct or not.

Thursday night I get home from work and have just enough time to change before I need to leave. Originally, I had planned on Chase coming over to help me relax, but he had called me mid-afternoon and asked me to meet him at his place, instead. Throwing on a pair of sweats and my Stony Brook hoodie, I run out the door.

Exiting the elevator, I reach for my key. After we got back from Key West, he insisted I take another copy, making me promise not to throw it into oncoming traffic. “Chase?” I call out, not wanting to startle him as I open the door. He doesn’t answer, prompting me to go looking for him.

I find Chase in the kitchen and he pulls me into an embrace before I can blink. “Hello, beautiful,” he purrs, kissing me on the top of my head. “I have a surprise for you.”

“What is it?” Instead of answering, he walks toward the kitchen, pulling me behind him.

“I’m going to teach you how to make Steak Au Poivre,” he announces, pointing toward an array of Whole Food’s bags on the counter. I look at him and force a smile, but it doesn’t reach my eyes. Chase takes one good look at me and bursts out laughing.

“What’s so funny?” I ask, offended.

“You.” He smiles, shaking his head. I stare at the bags, dumfounded. “Help me empty these?” He motions to the rest of the bags. Relenting, I help pull the items trapped in the paper bags and place them on the countertop.

“What possessed you to teach me how to cook?”

“I made a promise I intend to keep.” Ah, yes. Davis.

“That’s not fair! I just said yes because you had me caught in your sexual thrall.”

“Sexual thrall?” He rolls the words off his tongue, throwing them back at me, his lips twitching.

“Yes. There was no way I could have said no to anything you said.”

“Is that so?” he murmurs as he stalks toward me. “What about now?” He sidles up behind me, his lips brushing against the back of my neck, causing the tiny hairs to stand on end. “Could you say no to me now?” he rasps, his warm breath caressing my shoulder, causing me to shudder.

“Yes,” I breathe without conviction. He isn’t playing fair.

“Are you sure?” he asks, nipping the nape of my neck.

“Maybe,” I whisper. God, the things this man does to me.

He spins me around so I’m staring into his cobalt blue eyes. Leaning down, he brushes his lips against mine. “Good,” he murmurs. “Just checking.” With that, he releases me and heads back toward the counter. Closing my eyes, I release the breath I was holding. “Now, back to my lesson.”

“Fine. What do you need me to do?” I ask, resigned.

“Just watch and learn.” Placing a cast iron skillet on the gas range, he turns on the heat. “See that plate over there?” He motions his head toward the counter. I nod. “Coat it with crushed pepper.” Doing as he says, the plate is now covered in pepper. “Okay. Lightly salt the steaks, then place them, one at a time, in the pepper until they are coated, then flip and repeat.” Taking the tongs Chase hands me, I flip the steaks on at a time. “Bring them over here, please.”

I walk the plate over to where Chase has the hot skillet waiting and place the two steaks in the pan one at a time. “So, now what?”

“How do you like your steak cooked?”

“Medium rare. You?”

“Medium, but depends on the steak,” he answers, his eyes twinkling. “For a medium rare steak, they need to be cooked four minutes on each side.”

Once finished, he places them on a plate, which he then tents with foil. “What’s next?” I ask.

“Now, we make the sauce,” he says, reaching behind him for what looks like miniature onions. He minces them and tosses them around in the pan, coating them with the fats from the steak.

“What were those?” I ask.

“Shallots,” he answers. Placing a pat of butter, he stirs the pan. “Hand me that bottle of brandy, please?” he asks, pointing behind me. I hand Chase the bottle and he pours it into the hot pan before pulling out a match and lighting the brandy on fire. I jump back, ready for the kitchen to go up in flames. Turning to me, he bursts out laughing, but I don’t see the humor in the situation. His pan is on fire. “Scared you, did I?” he asks, a huge smile still on his face as he turns off the heat.

“What the hell was that?”

“You’ve never seen anyone do that?”

“No,” I mutter. He’s still chuckling. “It’s called ‘deglazing the pan’. Also, by setting fire to the brandy, you are cooking off the alcohol, but leaving the flavor.” Now I feel stupid. Turning to the refrigerator, he pulls out a container of heavy cream and pours it into the pan. “I’m going to turn the heat back on now, it’s called ‘reducing’,” he says in his teacher voice.

After the sauce starts to thicken, Chase splashes more brandy into the pan and dips his finger in to taste. Nodding his head, he’s satisfied. “Wait, that’s it?”

“Yup, easy right?” Wow. I thought for sure it would be way more complicated.

Chase pulls two dishes out of the warming drawer, one filled with mashed potatoes and another with broccoli. Scooping the sides onto dinner plates, he takes the steaks from out of the foil and positions them over the potatoes before drizzling some au Poivre sauce over the steak.

“Mmm, it smells amazing.”

“Take a seat at the island, I’ll get some silverware.” Placing the plates on the counter, he reaches over to get us silverware as I pour us each a glass of Syrah from the decanter on the table. Chase takes a seat next to me, handing me my eating utensils.

“So, do you think you could make this again?” he asks.

“Yes, seems pretty straight forward,” I say, smiling. Cutting into my steak, it is cooked perfectly. It tastes as good as it looks, and the Syrah goes perfectly with the meal.

“Good. As much as I love going to dinner, I love intimate meals at home so much more.” His words are soft and seductive. Yes, this is much better than being crammed into a busy restaurant.

“Me, too. I’m honestly looking forward to more lessons.” That makes Chase smile.

“I am happy to oblige.”

After dinner, we both relax on the couch, too stuffed to move. I snuggle into Chase’s side, his arm around my back. Besides the amazing sex, this is the part of our relationship I love; that feeling of being comfortable, just relaxing in each other’s company and not being compelled to say a single word. Picking up the remote, we settle in to watching one of my favorite shows.

As soon as I get home from work Friday evening, Chase is already waiting for me. I jump in the shower and change quickly. Once I’ve made myself presentable, he leads me out the door toward his building. Tonight, I meet his mother.

Every time Chase speaks of her, his eyes light up, and it’s endearing to see the love he has for her. He’s promised his mother is nothing like his stepmother, but I can’t help but be nervous. She’s been dying to meet me ever since she found out I had dinner with his dad, which was before I almost married Evan. I kept putting the meeting off, claiming I was too tired after work, but Chase has been insistent, so I relented. I push my anxiety aside, resolving to look at her without judgment.

Walking into Chase’s building, we take the elevator up to a few floors beneath Chase’s apartment. After unlocking the door, he holds it open, motioning for me to enter first. Shocked by the huge open-floor plan, I stop in my tracks and stare, wide-eyed. Being that it’s in the same building, I expected her apartment to be identical to Chase’s, but it’s easily three times the size. Catching me gaping, Chase chuckles. “This apartment takes up half of this floor. She bought four apartments and had them made into one larger one.”

“Why would she do that, who needs this much space?” I ask, still gaping.

“What better way to spend my father’s money,” he quips.

As I stand in the center room on a large Persian rug, directly above me is a sprawling Baccarat crystal chandelier. The apartment is tastefully decorated; enough furniture to look lived in, but not too much to look cluttered. Directly to the right is the formal living room, to the left is the gourmet kitchen. Chase leads me past both toward the back of the apartment. Here, the dining area is to the left off the kitchen, and another living area on the right, less formal than the living room. It appears to be more of a family room with the large flat screen TV over a fireplace.

“Mom, we’re here,” Chase calls out.

“Be right there,” she answers from somewhere near the back of the apartment.

Mrs. Remington walks out from a hidden doorway next to the bathroom right in front of me, fussing with her hair. “Chase, sweetie! I’ve missed you,” she coos, giving him a great big hug. She is so small compared to Chase; it’s like a kitten hugging a grizzly bear.

He kisses the top of her head, much like he does with me. “Mom, I’d like you to meet Olivia. Olivia, this is my mother, Claire.”

She walks toward me, pulling me into an embrace. “It’s so good to finally meet you. I’ve heard so many good things about you.”

“Likewise,” I murmur, shocked at her familiarity.

Releasing me, she turns back to Chase. “So, what took you so long to bring her over here?” she scolds Chase, smiling ear to ear.