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Ivy
Wewalkeddownthe stairs, wearing matching smiles. Sex always brightened my mood. Adding to that, Chase, my obsession, was now officially my boyfriend, making my happy hormones slide into a sultry tango.
“There’s my mother over there,” Chase said, pointing her out.
“Yes, I remember her from her last birthday party.” I eyed the tall, elegant woman in a green gown chatting with a female guest while sipping champagne.
He squeezed my hand. “That was when you stole my heart.”
I rolled my eyes. “More like you stealing my senses.”
Chase’s grin faded into a frown. “You did that to me too. I’ve spent this whole year thinking of you, Ivy.”
As we shared a lingering gaze, I swore I read sincerity in those normally playful dark eyes.
I sighed silently.
Pinch me. Is this real?
As we headed toward his mother, Chase paused and asked, “Are you okay?”
I smiled and nodded.
I regarded his dark-haired mother and swallowed tightly. My memory of Renata Elliot was that she gave off that cool, bordering on judgmental vibe.
She turned and on noticing our approach, whispered something to her female guest then took a step toward us.
Just like the first time I was introduced, her eyes traveled from my face to my body and back. With those dark scrutinizing eyes, Renata probably didn’t miss a thing.
“Mother, I’d like to present Ivy, my girlfriend.”
“Pleased to meet you,” I said, kissing both her cheeks. “Happy birthday.”
She nodded formally then continued to study me. I crossed my arms because I felt a shiver of cool air.
Just as I searched for something to say, Chase said, “Where’s Dad? I’d like him to meet Ivy too.”
Renata’s hand wafted in the air. “He’s here somewhere.”
“I’ll be back in a minute.” Chase kissed me on the cheek and gave his mother a look that might have read “be nice.”
“My son seems very happy,” she said with a heavy European accent.
“Oh… I guess he is. I mean, Chase is generally a happy, easy-going type of person.” A regrettable wobbly chuckle fell out of my mouth.
Her eyes held mine, and she nodded as though trying to get into my head. “You have interests, I assume?”
Yes, your son.
“I have a blog that I work on in my spare time. But I also like to…”
Pole dance and perform amateur burlesque. Mm…she doesn’t need to know that.
“I like fashion,” I continued. Our exchange reminded me more of a job interview than a friendly chat. “I work for my mother in her boutique, Mad Love Couture on Madison Avenue.”
She nodded slowly while processing my answers.
“I must say it’s a lovely party. This is such a gorgeous house you have.” I sounded almost overexcitable, as though trying to rouse warmth from her.
