Page 41 of The Heartbreaker (Chandler Brothers 3)
The only additional points he knew involved Madeline Carlisle, who had asked Chase to look out for Sloane. She’d also promised him not just an interview, but a possible exclusive in return. “If any information needs to come from my husband’s camp, you’ll be given it first,” she’d assured him. Then that damn explosion and Sloane’s revelation. All connected somehow, he was sure.
And the answers lay with the woman upstairs in his bed.
She had his loyalty, for reasons he wasn’t ready to dissect or name. “Lucy,” he called.
She came running, spry despite her years, which was just one reason she and Raina got along so well. “Yes, boss?”
“Tell them, since the cops aren’t talking, to only use the term unidentified woman. No speculation, no description. No matter what they think they know,” he added pointedly.
She nodded. “Mind if I ask you a question?”
“Since when do you need my permission?” he asked with a grin.
Lucy had been at Chase’s side since the day he’d taken over the paper, and at his father’s side before that. She spoke her mind, didn’t hold back, and had free access to his apartment in case he was needed. Something that would have to change with Sloane around.
She tucked a pencil behind her ear without disrupting her neatly bobbed hair. “This is a key issue.”
He sighed in resignation. “What do you want to know, Luce?”
“Well, the staff’s been taking bets.” She rocked on her heels, not meeting his gaze. “Sort of like an office pool.”
He raised one eyebrow. “What’s the subject?” he asked, though he had a hunch he already knew.
“Seeing as how you never brought a lady home with you before, the boys are wondering if this is the one.”
Chase had always kept his private life private. Hell, in this town, if he’d brought a woman to sleep in his bed and stay over night, every citizen would know. He’d been involved with Cindy for so long, their affair confined to her place, he’d been able to keep his private life private, and people like Lucy and his meddling mother wondering.
Which was why he should have known better than to think he could let Sloane stay upstairs and not have anyone get wind of it. He shook his head and muttered, “Shit.”
Lucy remained unfazed. “Meanwhile, I thought since you and I go way back, you could give me the inside scoop,” she said in a hushed voice. “Remember now, I’m the one who actually heard her in your bedroom.”
To his shock, Chase felt his cheeks burn. Discussing his sex life with Lucy was as bad as discussing it with his mother. And with Lucy’s penchant for gossip and long-standing friendship with Raina, it was tantamount to the same thing. The news would be shared by morning.
“Lucy?” he said in a voice distinct with warning.
She caught his inflection and saluted. “Yes, boss. I’m getting right back to work.” But he heard her laughter all the way down the hall.
Chase made sure Ty Turner, the man he’d left in charge, had things under control, knew to call him with any questions on the explosion piece, but to handle everything else himself. A solid hour had passed by the time he finally walked back into his bedroom, hoping for answers.
But Sloane wasn’t there. She’d left a note saying she’d gone to pick up something to eat, since his refrigerator was bare of breakfast food. While he waited, he lay down in his clothes and let himself rest. He trusted that she’d be back and his questions would be answered.
* * *
Chase had done so much for Sloane in a short time, breakfast was a small way to thank him. And talking would come easier over food, enabling her to keep her hands busy while she admitted her secrets.
She walked into Norman’s at nine A.M. sharp and was greeted at the door by Izzy, wearing the same white apron from yesterday, her hair pulled back in a bun.
“I knew you’d be back.” The woman gave Sloane a hug as if they were old friends. “I’m glad you’re in one piece. I never would have sent you over to that old coot Samson’s if I’d known the house was going to blow up like that.” Izzy squeezed her harder, her relief obvious.
“Don’t blame yourself,” Sloane said, trying to gasp for air.
“Don’t you worry. Rick told me to keep my mouth shut about sending you there and I will.” Finally Izzy let her go, stepping back to pull menus from beside the register. “But it’s someone’s fault. Dang Samson anyway. The man doesn’t pay attention to his shoe size. It’d be asking too much for him to notice the smell of gas and call the proper authorities.” She waved menus in her hand as she spoke. “So you need a table?”
“Actually, I’d like breakfast to go,” Sloane said, grateful for the change of subject.
