Page 8 of Body

“Maybe you should make a go for Davis, Claire. He seems to like tall blondes.” The other laughs.

Peering around the wall that separates the two spaces, I see Claire Dalton, the board member from Texas. The other woman I haven’t met yet. They adjust their hair and makeup in the vanity mirror. I plaster myself along the wall staying out of sight and listen.

“I think I will. Maybe at tonight’s dinner I’ll make a move on him,” Claire drawls.

No, no, no, no! I want to scream! Wait? If he goes for the blonde Barbie doll, he’ll forget about me. My job won’t be at risk and my sanity will stay intact. It’s a win-win.

My job at the Foundation is more than just a position or somewhere I pull a salary. The past few years have been rife with hard work while trying to piece my life back together after theJustin Period. I’m not letting anyone take me away from my goal. Especially not a man. Even if he’s disarmingly handsome and makes me quake with desire. Nothing matters except securing my future. The two women leave the sitting area. My fifteen minutes of freedom are up. Sighing, I square my shoulders. I can do this.

Outside the bathroom, I see that Claire doesn’t waste time. She and Chase are standing not ten feet from the bathroom door. His back is to me and Claire is laughing, batting those long eyelashes of hers. I inch my way around the two of them, careful not to interrupt.

A firm hand grasps my wrist and tugs me to a halt.

“Miss Callahan, may I have a word?” His eyes pierce mine and I nod.

“Claire, it’s a very nice offer, but I have plans after dinner. I’ll be just a moment.”

Claire looks deflated at his dismissal. I have an evil desire to stick my tongue out at her retreating form.He doesn’t want you! He wants me.Not the frame of mind I need to have right now.

I pull my hand from Chase’s grasp. “Don’t manhandle me,” I whisper in an irritated voice. The man is constantly touching me. It needs to stop.

“I didn’t want you running away.” He takes a deep breath. I knot my fingers together and look down at my heels to calm my nerves. “I just wanted to remind you about this evening.”

My gaze shoots to his. “You still want to meet me?”

“More than anything,” he says with confidence.

I fully expected him to come to the conclusion I had. Our pseudo date was a no-go. I inhale sharply and shake my head.

His eyes graze over my body like a caress. “Nothing’s changed.”

He looks around the hallway. The rest of the group has returned to the meeting room, leaving us alone. The pace of my heart picks up. He leans, and his lips lightly stroke the shell of my ear. A tremble runs from my head to my toes. A warm wet sensation tickles the curved flesh of my ear. His tongue. Liquid fire spreads from my ear down my neck, through my chest, settling in my belly. The tender space between my legs feels heavy, aching to be touched. I clench my thighs, zings of pleasure shoot through my body.

“You’re stunning in green,” he whispers. “Brings out the color of your eyes. I could easily get lost in them.”

Chase’s words, his nearness, the breath against my ear, all compound to make me dizzy. I steady myself against the solid wall of his chest with a shaking hand. My fingers curl around his tie and I tug him toward my mouth. All rational thought is gone. I want him more than I want my next breath. I reach up on my toes to bring our mouths closer. He pulls away, the silky fabric slipping through my fingers.

Reality crashes in and once again the spell is broken.

I was going to kiss him! Right here. Right where anyone could see us. Jesus, what’s wrong with me? This is not who I am. It’s him. He makes me feel needy, wanton, and sexually depraved. I can feel the prickles of embarrassment coating my skin scarlet.

“Another time,” he says, though his smile is wicked and would drop the panties of any female in his presence. Thank God one of us has their wits about them. I must have left mine in the box marked “Private” under my bed.

Chase sets his hand against my lower back as he leads me towards the board room. “Nine o’clock,” he reminds me. His hand falls away as I enter the room to take my seat.

The meeting continues and the Business Development Director drones on and on about the new affiliations and business arrangements he’s negotiated this past year.

“Thank you, Mr. Howe, for your update.” Chase cuts off the Director somewhat abruptly, noting the allotted hour he was given has passed. “I believe we have lunch, and then the Contributions Department will give their presentation.” He looks at Taye, then me. Taye smiles confidently. I’m trying in earnest to snag the confidence I had before I learned my Superman is the Chairman of the Board. Taye notices my mood and pats my shoulder. “You’re going to do great,” he whispers. I nod and smile.

When I look up, Chase is blatantly staring at me, his features pinched. He seems to be assessing the communication between Taye and me. Whatever Chase is thinking, he doesn’t seem pleased. I continue my conversation with Taye and ignore Chase’s stare until lunch arrives.

Watching Chase in action today has been quite a treat. The questions he asks each presenter are calculated, to the point, and innately brilliant. His expectations of his peers and the Foundation staff are high, ones he seems to have also given himself.

A hotel server sets a silver tray in front of me. “The filet, Miss, is seared and broiled with a bleu cheese butter crust, coupled with hickory smoked bacon mashed potatoes and seasoned sautéed vegetables.”

“Thank you.” My mouth waters at the sight of the food. The muffin this morning was tasty but pales in comparison to this feast. I can’t recall the last time I had filet mignon. Must have been prior to my Mom passing. She always did love the finer things in life. Not that we ever got to indulge much on our little family’s budget.

I take a bite and the taste explodes like a firecracker on the fourth of July. The texture of the meat is utter perfection. It’s a soft, melt in your mouth bit of heaven. I moan in contentment, closing my eyes to enjoy the experience. When I open them, Chase has his eyes on me, but they are no longer the stunning blue of the ocean, they are black as night. His pupils are dilated, and he’s gripping his fork so tightly his knuckles have turned white. His jaw is clenched and so taut I wonder briefly if he’s angry. He lets out a deep exhale that I can almost feel against my skin even though there’s a ten foot gap between us.

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