Читать книгу Here and Now - Michelle Monkou - Страница 10

By the time Laura drove to Kasey’s apartment, there was no way she would be able to drag her drunken, sleepy form out of the SUV, down the path to the building and then up the stairs to the top floor. She shook her friend’s shoulder in a futile last attempt.

Chase tapped at Kasey’s window, motioning for her to unlock the door. Laura complied, not having much choice. She’d need his muscle to heft her coworker’s tall frame.

Together they made slow progress. Sometimes Kasey did revive long enough to actually walk before teetering over. They escorted her to the bedroom and gently laid her down. Chase excused himself so Laura could tend to Kasey’s clothing. When she was done undressing her, she pulled the floral printed comforter over her body. Then she turned out the light and left the bedroom door partially open.

“Chase, I really don’t feel comfortable leaving her in this condition.” Laura turned to look at the door. “What if she gets sick and can’t get up?”

“I’m inclined to agree with you.”

“You go ahead, I can call a cab in the morning,” she said.

“Or I can stay here with you.”

Laura shook her head. Chase may think he was in control, playing games with her by seducing her, but she still had the good sense to say no.

To show him that she did have strength, she walked past him and opened the apartment door. “I’ve got this under control.”

He looked as if he was about to object, then reconsidered. “Okay.” He looked at her, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. As he walked past her, he paused without turning around.

“Yes?” She wished that her voice didn’t sound so needy.

“I can expect you for dinner tomorrow, right?”

“Yes,” she answered.

“Good.” He pulled the door closed behind him.

Laura stood there staring at the door, wondering how her life could have taken such a sudden shift. Not that she had ever stopped thinking about Chase, but she certainly didn’t entertain any ideas that they would be talking, much less having dinner.

Well, so much for the late night at the club. Guess she was in for the night. Seems like no matter what she did, she was always in for the night. This time she didn’t mind so much. She flopped on the couch, reached for the remote and slid into a comfortable position.

“Who’s the latest dish waiting to be served?”

Chase looked up from stirring the Alfredo sauce. “Deon, you need to be out of here in five minutes.”

“Only came to return your toolkit. Not planning to cramp your style.” His friend inhaled, patting his stomach for emphasis. “A brother could do with a little bite before facing the cold.”

“You’re not staying.” Chased moved the pot off the stove. He’d hate to burn the sauce after every other part of the four-course meal met with his level of perfection. “Besides, I’m sure Chantal, Sarita, Bonnie or whoever the latest is wants you in the sex cave next door.”

“They are all has-beens, like I’ve been preaching to you, man. You’ve got to change the girls as often as you change your shoes.” His old teammate Deon was known for donating his running shoes after each meet.

“Well, now that I’m an old man, injuries and all, got to make do with whatever I can.” Chase walked over to Deon, grabbed him by the elbow and escorted him toward the door.

“Usually I get to meet them,” Deon complained.

“Only the ones that you insist on introducing to me. And frankly, they are never my type.”

“You don’t have a type. I’ve brought tall, short, fat, skinny, dark skinned and even light-bright. Nothing. I was thinking that I’d have to get a girlie magazine for you to see if you got it going on.”

Chase laughed at Deon’s silliness. He’d seen the women at the clubs with whom Deon strutted, and knew his friend belonged in the dog pound. None of his so-called women made it in his company in daylight hours because they weren’t the sort you’d take home to mother.

The few times that he’d given into Deon’s blind dating tactics, he’d regretted the waste of his time. Aggressive women didn’t necessarily turn him off, but he did want the feelings to be mutual. He wanted to at least feel some kind of snap, crackle or pop when he was in their presence. Instead, he found himself thinking of mundane tasks like taking out the recyclables for the next day’s pick-up.

Deon finally gave up and left.

With Deon out of the way, Chase returned to cooking. He still had time to set the table and add the finishing touches to the room. He couldn’t control the mood in the workplace, but his house was a different story. Having Laura over for dinner hadn’t been planned. The invite had popped into his head when he stood mere inches from her that night at the bar. Now that his initial fear of a scene at their first meeting was over, he could relax.

From her fine features and slender neck to the dark sweep of her hair, he wanted to be near her. In a sweeping bit of nostalgia, he wanted to feel her lips against his. Her earlier response couldn’t have been a figment of his imagination.

As he lit the thick vanilla scented candles, he thought about the flame in his heart that would never go out for Laura. Not many people got a chance to have a do-over in life. He could only hope that Laura would give him that chance.

Half an hour later, with a soft smell of the sweet spice filling the air, Chase surveyed the dining table with its setting for two. Then he turned his attention to the living room where the candles of various heights dotted the room. On the center piece table was a bowl of assorted roses with stems cut short, making the arrangement look thick and colorful. He’d ordered the vibrant array of colors off the Internet to cut the monotonous brown shade of his couch and furniture. It paid to watch a few of the popular interior designing shows.

His phone rang. His spirit dropped, thinking that it had to be Laura canceling. His disappointment waited in limbo as he picked up the receiver. “Yes?”

“Chase, it’s Laura. Sorry, I’m running late. I left the directions at home and thought that I could rely on memory.” She laughed. “Wrong move.”

Chase shoved the disappointment back down with a big sense of relief. She was on her way. “No problem.” He provided the directions, impressed that she’d made it into his neighborhood, two streets away.

He went outside to greet her, knowing that she was probably a bundle of nerves after driving around the area. As an afterthought, he ran back into the house, hoping that he didn’t miss her arrival. Hastily, he pulled a yellow rose out of the bowl and headed back outside.

Under the startling sunlight, he felt like a schoolboy waiting for someone to give him attention while he stood there with the flower. He stared down at the flower as if it would provide an answer.

A quick horn tap sounded and he looked up to see Laura waving from the nearby street corner. Maybe the romantic gesture would be too much. He tossed the flower in the hedge. Then he walked toward the mailbox as if that was his primary reason for being outdoors. She pulled up next to the curb offering him a quick wave.

“Hey, see that wasn’t too bad,” he offered.

“Yep, your directions were perfect.” She approached him and offered him a bottle of wine.

He should have kept the rose. He wondered if he could reach down to retrieve it from the hedge where it landed. Instead he took the wine and pretended to read the label. “Wonderful.” He had no clue about drinks. Maybe wine tasting would be the next hobby as he adjusted to his retirement phase.

He ushered her in, glad to see that she was suitably impressed with his new home. She handed her coat to him, which he took to the closet.

“Amazing.” Laura’s voice reflected her awe.

“It’s what I like to call home.” Why on earth did he sound like a good TV dad? “How’s Kasey?”

“She’ll survive. Right now she’s making all kinds of resolutions to stop drinking.” They laughed.

“Come on in. I have appetizers for us to enjoy.” Chase motioned toward the living room, before heading into the kitchen. He could see her from the kitchen as he added the finishing touches to the chicken tenderloins cooked on skewers served with cucumber dip or peanut sauce.

“You went all out. Hope you’re not disappointed.”

“You wouldn’t disappoint me,” he teased.

She shrugged, a shadow flitted across her face.

“Have a seat.” He set the serving dish on the table. Laura hadn’t moved. He turned to see why she resisted his simple request. She was perusing the photographs and various tokens of his mastery in sports.

Not wanting to disturb her, he continued setting out the small plates and napkins. Wondering if she was in the mood for quiet or chatting, he turned on the stereo with his remote and let the CD of R&B classics play. A line up of Roberta Flack, Temptations, Stevie Wonder and Barry White couldn’t hurt a candlelit dinner.

“I’m really confused,” Laura spoke over her shoulder. She had looked at the framed photographs, medals, championship cups and now turned her attention on him. “You could have anything you want.” She threw her arms out expansively. “Why are you here? I know Atlanta is the new Mecca for upwardly mobile African Americans, but why are you here? Why a college coach? I imagine that you could be a personal coach for the next up and coming athlete. Now you’re bogged down with politics and the administration. This is my world, not yours.”

Chase bit into the chicken on the wood skewers. He needed a minute to think. He slid the plate to Laura, glad to see that she finally thought about eating.

“My body’s broken up, Laura. Maybe I’ll go back to reclaim my place in the world after a year of healing. On my contracts, I still have endorsements and a few lecture circuits to hit for the coming year. I didn’t plan to retire so early, but it’s what had to happen.”

Neither spoke.

“Do you mind if I freshen up?” Laura looked around abruptly.

“Go right ahead. Off to your right. That’ll give me some time to transfer the food from the kitchen to the dining room.”

“I’ll help.”

“Thanks, but you’re not allowed to lift a finger, except to eat,” he explained.

Laura acknowledged his request and aimed for the bathroom. She closed the door, glad to get away for a few seconds. Several times she’d wanted to cancel. By not resisting Chase and that mind-blowing kiss, he could have the wrong idea that she was willing to play on dangerous ground. Then, she followed up with accepting his dinner invitation!

Laura made a face in the mirror. She smoothed her eyebrows, inspecting the rest of her face. Only her eyes and lips were made up. After a late night with light sleep, she needed the smoky eyeliner to enhance her eyes and make them look larger and more awake. With the same thought in mind, she had selected a reddish hued lipstick as a bright spot of color for liveliness.

Dishes clinked outside the room. Guess it was time to exit and face the result of her decision. She ran her fingers through her hair, tossing back the front piece so that it lay feathered on one side of her face. Enough with her fidgeting, she opened the door.

“Do you have a preference?” Chase stood behind one of the chairs, waiting for her decision.

Laura shook her head. She took the other chair, but Chase slid over to assist her. When he lightly touched her shoulder, she froze hoping that he would return to the other chair so she could breathe normally.

“Everything smells wonderful.” Laura did admire the line up of dishes. She couldn’t believe that his culinary skills had become so developed.

“There’s a garden salad, soup and Alfredo pasta with grilled chicken breast.”

“I’m embarrassed at how much you’ve done on my behalf.”

“Don’t be. Yes, I did spend a bit of time preparing, but this is my olive branch to you to keep the past in the past. Can we move forward?”

Laura took a gulp of wine, choking in the process. Over the rim of her wine glass she studied him.

“Look, Chase, I think we’d better keep this on neutral ground.”

“If that’ll make you feel better.”

“It would.” She ate her salad, enjoying the sweet, zesty vinaigrette poured lightly over the greens. “Someone made you very domesticated.” No sooner had the statement escaped than she blushed at the direct hit her question made. She felt like a hypocrite calling for neutrality when she zeroed in on what occupied her thoughts—Chase with another woman.

“There were some times when I wasn’t training and I wasn’t playing at being a sports model. Usually, I was in a hotel room bored to death, flipping through channels. Regardless of the country, there was always a food channel. In France, I had the honor of working with a master chef in one of the major hotels. She was so appalled at my limited knowledge that she gave me a crash course in food and its preparation.”

“Is that all she taught you?”

“She taught me lots of things.” A soft smile touched his face.

“Sounds like she’s earned a special place in your heart.” Laura gritted her teeth.

“I do miss her.”

“Another woman with a broken heart?”

“Jealous?” He grinned.

“No, just wondering if there are enough to form a support group.”

“One sec.” He pushed back the table. His amused expression irritated her. She watched him go to the bookcase and pull a photo album off the shelf. He flipped the thick pages until he came to the desired page. Marking the page with his finger, he came toward her. Curiosity prickled her. Maybe the album would explain the reason for his triumphant look.

“What?” She looked down at the page where his finger pointed.

“My darling chef.”

“This doesn’t mean anything. You might have been her boy toy.” The little old woman had a grandmotherly smile and hair full of white curls.

“You’re a sick puppy.”

“Are these people her family?” Laura couldn’t help being intrigued.

“Yes. Three generations, almost four. Her granddaughter was pregnant at the time.” He took a deep breath, his voice a tad wistful. “She’s since died. Her son and his company were my main sponsor in France and we hit it off. I got adopted by the family. Or maybe I let myself be surrounded by them.”

“I’m sorry to hear of her passing. I would’ve loved to pass on my gratitude that you’ve graduated from grilled cheese sandwiches melted by your iron to a wonderful tasty meal.” She wiped the corner of her mouth with the napkin, grinning at him. “And how’s your family?” she asked.

“I’m sure you don’t want to hear about my mother and father on an empty stomach.” He opened a soup tureen. “This isn’t the main dish.”

“Chase, I can’t eat all of this food.”

“See, that’s one of the things I learned in France. You shouldn’t eat your food in a huge rush. It should be savored, the company enjoyed, conversation shared.”

Laura followed his advice. The vegetable soup was simple and delicious. Chase kept the conversation lighthearted. By the time she had moved to the meal, her taste buds were on sensory overload. The Alfredo sauce tasted like heaven and she acknowledged with each forkful of pasta that the hips would get a little rounder and her arms may flap in the wind. It didn’t stop her from chewing the large mouthful of food. She closed her eyes, enjoying the rich flavor.