Eleven
1234 Words
Chapter Eleven
Sliding into comfortable pumps, I glance at my reflection in the mirror. My dress leaves my neck a little too bare, more daring than usual, but the gorgeous blue fit makes me feel alive. I pack my hair into a high pony bun, smoothing stray strands, then step out the door with a rush of excitement.
“Someone’s in a good mood this morning,” Max comments, already dressed, heading toward his room.
“Yes, and you’re up early. Heading out?”
“Soon.”
“Okay, later then.”
The cool morning air greets me, I pause in my tracks.
Chase is standing cross‑legged, casually dressed in a shirt and shorts, leaning against a Porsche Cayenne that gleams under the rising sun.
He lets out a low whistle as his eyes sweep over me. “Looking as stunning as ever, Miss Orwells.”
I arch a brow, trying to mask the flutter in my chest. “I could say the same for you. What are you doing here… dressed like that?” My gaze travels over him, casual yet magnetic.
“It seems you haven’t read your mail. The day is mine. Your supervisor must have confirmed already.”
“What do you mean?”
“I suppose you’re the one inappropriately dressed. No worries — it’s fixable.”
Before I can protest, he takes my hand, guiding me into the passenger seat. He belts me in, his fingers brushing my arm, then mutters with a wink, “Hang on tight, for a smooth ride.”
I fumble for my phone, opening my mailbox. There it is — Mrs. Debrowsky’s mail acknowledging I’ll be working with Belmond Corp.
“What did you say to them?”
“Doesn’t matter. I get to spend the day with you.” He slides on dark glasses, shielding his eyes, and the car roars to life.
We arrive at a fashion boutique, the kind with glass walls and mannequins draped in silk. Chase has me try on dinner dresses. Surprisingly he’s very precise on his taste.
“The bust area isn’t revealing enough.”
“No, too decent.”
“Do you have one with a higher slit?”
“Perfect. We’ll take that.”
He turns to me, eyes glinting. “What do you like? Seen any dress you fancy?”
I bite my lip nervously, pretending to be fine with the entire dress‑up in front of him.
“What’s this for? You’re dressed casually, and buying me a dinner dress?”
“We’ll see.” He chuckles, turns to the sales rep, “We’ll take all she’s tried on.”
The lady hides her surprise, nodding with professional composure. “Okay, they’ll be packed up, sir. How would you be paying?”
Chase casually swipes out a sleek black card.
She quickly processes the payment, handing back the receipt with a polite smile. “Thank you for shopping with us.”
“Ready for the next stop?”
I shrug, “Lead the way.”
At the next store, racks of casual dresses catch my eye. Chase pulls one off the hanger, holding it against me. “This one. It’s simple, but it’ll turn heads.”
I laugh softly. “You’re enjoying this too much.”
“Maybe,” he admits, selecting a top and shorts for me.
He adds a pair of dark glasses to the pile, slipping them onto my face himself. “Perfect. Now you look like you’re mine.”
I roll my eyes but can’t help smiling. “You’re ridiculous.”
We step out together, blending into the crowd like it’s just another casual Tuesday date.
At the spa, scented oils glide across my skin, soft hands massaging tension away. My body melts into relaxation. “Ah, that feels good” I whisper, my voice barely audible as I drift toward sleep.
Time slips by, and eventually I’m woken gently, wrapped in a robe, and guided to the pedicure session. Chase is already there, lounging with effortless ease, and flipping through a glossy magazine.
“Good to have you back,” he says, lowering the magazine. His grin widens, glasses pushed into his hair. His chest glistens faintly, buttons undone, legs stretched with careless confidence. “I missed you.”
My gaze lingers on him longer than I intend, drawn to the glow of his skin, the relaxed curve of his smile. The strong urge to lean in, press my lips against that open chest.
He notices, grin deepens, teasing. “Find me irresistible?”
“You wish,” I mutter, rolling my eyes as I settle into the seat beside him.
He chuckles,“Denial looks good on you.”
I shake my head, “You’re impossible.”
He stares at me so intently that I can’t help but turn, ready to make some smart remark. But the words die on my lips when I catch the unguarded expression on his face.
“You look breathtaking, Lisa.”
My pulse quickens, breath hitching as heat rises in my cheeks. I try to look away, but his eyes hold me firmly in place, as though daring me to move. For a moment, it feels like he might lean closer, my heart pounds. Not giving a chance to find out where he’d lead. I force myself to face forward, conscious of the people around us.
“You haven’t changed” he chuckles softly, breaking the tension.
The car rolls to a stop, and my attention shifts to the sprawling estate before us. Greenery stretches wide, manicured lawns lined with monoon longifolia in perfect rows. A massive fountain rises at the center, spraying arcs of water. Several luxury cars gleam in the driveway. It looks like something out of a movie, the kind belonging to drug barons or kings.
I turn to him, stunned. His shielded eyes hide his true expression, but his smile lingers.
“Welcome to my residence.”
“This is your house?” I ask, incredulous.
“The one I grew up in,” he responds simply, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
The living area takes my breath away the moment we step inside. Tall marble columns rise like sentinels, their bases carved with lotus motifs that remind me of Egyptian temples. The walls gleam in pristine white, yet they’re alive with geometric patterns that echo the Greek key. At the center, a round décor tower ascends gracefully, its design blending the symmetry of Athens with the mystery of Thebes.
It was a strange, intoxicating mix that gave Greek elegance and Egyptian grandeur. The space felt both temple-like and palatial, as though fragments of history had been stitched together to create this home.
“Let me pour you a glass. Relax, take a seat.”
I glanced around, reminding myself this is Chase. I can keep my cool, even here.
He returns with a bottle, the label reading ‘Montrachet’. “Here, you’ll love it.” He hands me a glass, the liquid catching the light like pale gold.
I lift it close to my lips, pausing to inhale. The scent is delicate yet rich—crushed white flowers mingling with a whisper of vanilla. “Mmm… interesting.”
I take a sip, the flavor unfolding across my tongue “It’s nothing like I’ve tasted before.”
- Writer
