Chapter 13
CHASE
On my living room sofa, there’s a content little chihuahua fast asleep, next to her new favorite chew toy. Mission complete.
BB is a riot. Two days ago, I would never have imagined Spitfire Junior would bring a smile to my face.
For the record, Ivy does too.
The two of us are in my kitchen now, the room in which I plan to hold her surprise reveal.
Pointing to the center island, I gesture for Ivy to have a seat. “Now you sit there and relax for a few minutes, but please don’t open your eyes until I tell you to.”
She places her hands over her eyes, bow-shaped lips curved up. “Whatever the surprise, it sure smells good.”
“Close your nose, too,” I joke.
She snorts out a giggle, followed by a bite on her lip. If the woman, who’s a hot bundle of pretty and sexy, were myrealfiancée, I’d swoop in close and take her full mouth with mine.
Reluctantly freeing that thought from my head, I plate up the meal I spent the last few minutes heating up—a little something I prepared earlier. After sliding her plate over to where she sits, smile lingering, I pour some white wine in a glass, then grab my own plate and glass of vino.
“Ms. Bloom, you may open your eyes now,” I say, sliding onto the high-back, swivel stool beside her.
Blue eyes spring open and so does her mouth, until she quickly shuts it. She flicks those tempting eyes on me, glistening, lashes fluttering. “Chase, is this…”
I pick up my glass, take a sip, swallow a pesky set of nerves, and say, “Panda House’s famous orange chicken prepared step-by-step via Cook Like a Foodie.”
She peers down at the plate of food, shakes her head in disbelief. “It looks so damn good.”
“I was curious, kind of wanted to see if it would taste like the real deal.”
“Only one way to find out.”
We both dig in, taking bites of the orange-glazed chicken and fried rice. After following her video blog’s instructions, I actually felt like an accomplished cook.
And after taking the first few bites, I have to admit, the meal tastes pretty damn good.
Ivy squeezes her eyes shut, chews slowly as if she’s savoring each and every morsel. Her eyes open. “Chase, this is fabulous. You did good.”
“It was your blog that helped me create this. Why did you stop? This recipe alone had over two-thousand comments—all positive.”
She sets her chopsticks down, swivels the chair to face me. “I don’t know really. I was only sixteen or seventeen. At the time I discovered my love of performing in front of a camera and decided to pursue acting. Cook Like a Foodie was something I did to pass free time. That free time was taken up by me studying acting and rehearsing lines for plays.”
I feed her a half-cocked smile. “I suppose if you hadn’t switched focus to the pursuit of acting, we wouldn’t be here tonight.”
She lifts her glass, tilts it to mine. “Cheers to that.”
Eating in silence, my mind drifts to when I was a teen and how much I wanted to escape the family business to play football. A star quarterback since my Pop Warner days and all the way through high school, it was my love of that sport, the game, that won me a scholarship to Yale. Dad said I needed to pay my way through college in order to appreciate it. The scholarship allowed that and in doing so, I chose not to major in business. Instead, almost out of spite, I earned a four-year degree in environmental studies. As it turned out, earning that degree gave me a broad understanding of social opportunities which has proved to be an essential asset in discerning which companies to invest in. With that, Hunter, Inc., was able to expand to the West Coast. Subsequently, revenue has tripled.
“You’re in deep thought.” Ivy’s soft hum of a voice tugs me back to now.
“Yeah, a short trip down memory lane. A time when I wish I chose a different path in life.”
She twists a bracelet around her wrist. “Really? And what path was that?”
“I wanted to be a quarterback for the New York Jets.” I scoff at that dream, almost thankful I gave it up.
“Football?” She gives me a once-over. “I can totally see that.”
