CHAPTER SEVEN
“SO YOU’RE NOT going to the Summer Gala this evening?”
“That’s right.” Chase didn’t look up from his computer. “I’m going to the beach house, where I’m going to swim, sail and generally do all the things I used to enjoy doing before I forgot I enjoyed them.”
Rick stared at him, as if Chase had just announced he intended to spend the weekend injecting drugs. “I’ve been your personal assistant for five years and I didn’t know you enjoyed sailing.”
“Well, now you do.”
Rick looked uncomfortable. “Your father expects you to be at the Gala. He wants to talk to you about the Turner-Hill deal. There are people he wants you to meet.”
Another evening of fake smiles and mindless schmoozing, as Lara would have called it.
Except that now he knew her name wasn’t Lara. It was Matilda. Her name had been written on the manuscript she’d left in his apartment. Her name, her email, but no address.
“Everyone will be there.”
Not everyone. Not the one person in the world he badly wanted to see again.
He’d emailed her three times and had no response. Clearly whatever she’d felt for Alex, she couldn’t feel for Chase Adams.
“I won’t be there. I’ll be in the Hamptons, breathing in sea air. Enjoying life after putting in a long working week. I won’t be back until Tuesday. Long working week equals long weekend.”
“What’s happened to you?” Rick looked bemused. “You’ve changed over the past few weeks.”
“Maybe I have.” Or maybe he’d just rediscovered the man he really was.
Chase stood up and stared down over the crisscross streets far beneath him. She was down there somewhere, living her life.
Did she think about him? Did she think about that night?
Why hadn’t she answered his emails?
Rick was obviously struggling to understand the changes in his boss. “Tuesday? Will you be calling in on Monday?”
“No.” Chase turned. “Did my brother call about that package I sent him?”
“Not since the last time you asked me.”
“Right.” Realizing that Rick was still hovering, he looked at him expectantly. “Was there something else?”
“You asked me to check the guest list for the party a few weeks ago.”
Tension rippled across his shoulders. “And?”
“No one by the name of Lara was invited.”
“No.” Knowing what he knew now, that didn’t surprise him. “Did you check for Matilda?”
“Yes, boss. No Matilda, either.”
So what did that mean? Chase strolled the length of his office, his mind working. Had she crashed the party? Was that why she wasn’t answering the email? She was embarrassed because she wasn’t supposed to be there that night?
He ran through his options. He was living in a city of several million people, most of whom he’d be happy never to see again. The one person he wanted to see, he couldn’t find. His desire to be anonymous had backfired in spectacular fashion.
What was he supposed to do? Hire a private investigator? Roam the streets of Manhattan like a crazed lunatic?
He kept telling himself that it was just one night and that he should let it go, but how could he? It was just one night, but he wanted something from her that he’d never wanted from a woman before.