“Wine, beer ... what can I get you, Lil?” Asher asked.
Asher’s high-rise penthouse apartment was in the center of Boston, showcasing panoramic views from each room. The modern simplicity of the designer space flowed seamlessly. Perfect for entertaining, of which I was sure Asher did his fair share. The black hardwood floor and streamlined furniture was sleek, yet inviting. The masculinity of the sparse dark accents and the enormous billiard table sitting under a modern chandelier, which I only assumed was supposed to be the dining room, screamed bachelor pad.
“Wine. Thanks, Ash.”
Asher left for the kitchen and I strolled up to the window to enjoy the city lights.
Chase snaked his arms around my waist and kissed my neck. “Whatcha thinking ’bout, beautiful?”
“Just how lucky I am.” On so many different levels. The most superficial was standing in yet another living room, enjoying the million dollar views of yet another spectacular city. And on the deepest level, how this man loved me so unconditionally.
“You know I love you more than anything, Blue.”
“I know.” Because I did. We had spent the afternoon wandering through the cobblestone alleys of Boston. Girl coffee in one hand; Chase’s warm fingers entwined with mine in the other. Life was nearly perfect. And several designer shops later, my niece-to-be as inspiration, I decided on an amazing Gucci soft stirrup pink tan python shoulder bag to replace my oversized luggage. And Chase insisted on a bag for Sierra. So I chose the dark pink nylon Guccissima diaper bag. Sierra was going to flip. And I was pretty sure the deep freeze would officially be over.
Asher came back and handed me a glass of red wine.
“Thanks, Ash, your view is fantastic.”
Asher opened the terrace door. “Thanks, come see the best part. It’s a gorgeous night.”
“You guys go. I’m gonna hop in the shower before dinner.” Chase kissed my cheek and walked toward the bedrooms, while Asher and I walked outside. It was warm, a little muggy and not much of a breeze. Typical for August.
“You like Boston?” I asked.
“Yeah, came here after college for law school, and you know...” He didn’t need to finish his sentence; I got it. That was only a year after Kimi died. Chase was in Boston and had two years of med school to finish. Alone. “Anyway, kind of got sucked in ... being a finance lawyer in a city like Boston is the place to be. Besides, gotta keep an eye on Chase’s investments, while, you know, he plays doctor and all.” We laughed..
“Seems like the company does well.” I sipped my pinot noir. Not that I cared if it filed chapter eleven. If Chase were bankrupt, I’d probably love him even more. No question.
“Yeah, well, your guy worked his fucking ass off to be where he is today. On top of being a world-class neurosurgeon, he redefines entrepreneur and real estate mogul without jack shit from his parents. Did you know he went to college and med school on a full academic scholarship? Fucking sick.” Ash swigged his beer.
“What do you mean? I just assumed he had some kind of trust or something.”
Asher lounged back in his teak chaise. “He did. From his grandparents. But couldn’t touch it until he turned twenty-one. Inherited Kim’s too, all of it. Donated her entire trust, every fucking penny, and then he spent most of his taking care of her after he moved her from that shithole. Twenty-four hour, state of the art care. Flew in every fucking specialist and expert. Sadly, pretty much too late by then, not sure it made a difference. She died shortly after. His parents fucking suck, never paid one goddamn doctor bill.” He sat up and straddled the lounge chair. “Thought it was a waste. Said she was practically dead anyway, why waste good money. Sweet, right? That’s how she wound up in Boston in the first place. That shithole took any charity case to get a fucking tax break.”
A vice strangled my gut. Chase said his parents left her to rot, but I thought they just never visited her.
Asher must have seen the horror on my face. There was no hiding it. “Yeah.” He shook his head, obviously agreeing with my all-time low opinion of Chase’s parents.
I wasn’t the biggest fan when I met them, now I pretty much hated them.
He took another swig, probably to soothe the burn. “You should have seen how pissed his parents were when Chase used the money he had left to finance his research. We’re talking epic meltdown. They’re so fucking greedy—they went off the rails. That was pretty much the final straw. Chase was done. Been done ever since. A few years after Kimi died and his company started to take off, it all came out ... his parents went under.”
“Went under?” His parents gave off the vibe that they were rolling in money.
“First they lost the Hamptons house, almost lost the Park Avenue penthouse too, a fucking Ponzi scheme.” He stood up and started pacing.
I had seen that testosterone time bomb before. No wonder Chase and Ash were so close. Asher looked angry.
“Your guy bailed them out, paid off the penthouse mortgage, gave Pete a job. Then basically told them to go fuck themselves. Now they live fucking scot-free in that mausoleum.”
Of course he had. As much as my guy thought he was selfish, he was the one who was selfless. My stomach sank, my appetite gone. I sat down on the loveseat and rested my heavy head against the back.
“Pete?” I asked.
“Yeah. He was the family driver for years, hell, when we were kids. Man, he took Kimi’s death worse than her own parents. When everything went down, Chase made sure Pete was set financially, but the guy refused, wouldn’t accept a dime he didn’t work for. Needless to say, twenty-five years from now your man will probably be driving Pete’s ass around, soothing his pride with some other made up job.” That explained a lot.
“See why he can’t stand visiting his parents, even on their birthday? Dickhead really only shows up when he has to, mostly to appease me, and in return, my parents. To this day, can’t understand why they’re friends. Whatever.” Asher finished his beer.
The French door creaked open before I said anything, not that I had anything to say right at that moment. Chase sauntered outside, wearing low-slung sweats and a fitted white tee. His hair was wet from his shower. He looked relaxed and beautiful. I made a conscious effort to table whatever I felt about what Asher shared. Chase deserved a carefree night with the two people who cared the most about him. And I was going to give it to him.
“Dick, why does my girl look like her puppy died? What else did you lay on the table for her in the five minutes I was gone?”
Shit. My poker face sucked. Again. The last thing I wanted was Chase to be upset with Asher. I sat forward to explain, but Chase beat me to it.
“Ash man, you’re like a schoolgirl. You can’t help yourself. Fucking diarrhea of the mouth.” Chase grinned, and relief washed over me. He gave us an out. Chase wasn’t stupid. So far from it—it was scary. Just like the day in his parents’ apartment, he knew he walked in on a conversation he’d rather not be part of, a conversation he probably wished never happened. But unlike that day in their study, there were no more secrets between us. Last time he feigned ignorance, this time he chose to lighten the mood. And I was grateful.
“Whatever, asshole. What are ya drinking?” Asher was unfazed by Chase. The way old friends should be.
“I’ll take a beer. And while your lazy ass is up, Blue could use a refill.”