Chapter 5 Overtime

At the end of the working day, Chase's mood had not improved. He stewed in the office, thinking of Mason and what he and Amanda did to him. Thinking of how his own father, Alexander, came to Mason's defense.

Mason couldn't be blamed that Amanda fell for him, according to Alexander. No, nothing was ever Mason's fault. The evil fucker always made sure the odds were in his favor. But according to Alexander, Mason was the best thing since sliced bread.

Chase obviously, was the one at fault. He couldn't hold on to the woman he loved, didn't give her what she craved according to what Mason told Alexander.

Two weeks before their wedding, she told Chase she was leaving him for Mason. No matter how he tried to reason with her, she left and died that same night – drove her car over the edge of a cliff. If anything, Chase thought, he was to blame for that.

She chased after him because he was on his way to have it out with Mason. He'd wanted to kill him, had his .38 revolver in the glove compartment of the Ferrari. Her car was no match for the red monster, and she didn't make the sharp turn. But that happened two years ago.

And still... Still, he had to look at that prick's face every fucking day. Everywhere he turned there he was, Mason Pritchard. Now he has his sights set on his secretary and Chase was pretty damn sure it was just to get at him, get under his skin. He didn't have any feelings for Christine, he would bet his life on it. He was going to use her and spit her out when he was done.

"I cannot let him do that." Chase said to himself. If he was being honest with himself, he was attracted to Christine. Be it purely physical or whatever it was, doesn't matter, but he would make sure Mason would not get his claws stuck into her. This was personal.

"Mr. Ward?" Christine called from the closed door. She entered bringing with her a soft, lingering smell of vanilla and roses. "Do you need anything else before I head home?"

She smelled amazing, Chase thought. "Are you in that much of a hurry, Morrison? Hot date or what?" he added a little sharply. He watched her coloring, inwardly feeling amused.

"No, nothing like that." She said, looking down at her feet. "I just thought..."

On impulse, Chase decided he wanted her to stay, even if it meant he had to make up some excuse.

"We could go over our strategy for young Angelo Martinez's defense." He knew he was holding the proverbial carrot in front of her nose when he saw her eyes light up.

"Oh, yes! I would love to help with that." She said, beaming a smile at him that would melt ice at the north pole.

"Well then, get your notes and join me. I'll organize us some dinner." He said, taking his cell phone to order takeout.

***

Christine was over the moon that Chase had asked her to stay and help with the Martinez case. She hoped he would pay her overtime. She could really use the extra cash.

After her father lost his job because of his gambling addiction, she has been helping where she could, to put out fires. They did so much for her, she would do whatever it took to help them. All the therapy, the medical expenses they paid for her and not to mention her tuition, they deserved her help.

Christine would never blame her father for going off the rails. He wanted to make more money to give them the life they deserved. But things went from bad to worse and he got roped in. Just one more bet and he would make it big. The more he bet, the more he lost. She thought that her mother deserved a medal for sticking with him. Most women would have left. Not to mention the heartbreak after Heather... No, she must not dwell on such sad thoughts. Not while there is work to be done.

Christine came into the office to find Chase had taken off his jacket. The heat in his office slammed into her. He rolled up his sleeves of his white dress shirt to reveal well-toned forearms. Discarding his silk tie, he unbuttoned the top three buttons of the shirt. She froze in the doorway and had to swallow twice to get her voice back. Could it be only the July heat getting to her, because she felt a little lightheaded of a sudden?

"There's something wrong with the darn AC." he explained. "I'm baking out in here."

"I... I'll call a repair company first thing." she croaked, fanning herself.

"Yeah, do that. It was working just fine a moment ago." Stupid things always packed up at the most inconvenient times. He ran a hand through his damp hair, not realizing how seductive he looked.

Christine gulped. Maybe she should just run. This man was doing wicked things to her body without even trying. She had to pull herself together. He wanted her to do her work and by God, she will do her work and not think about his shirt clinging to his torso.

"Okay, the delivery man will bring our takeout in an hour. That work for you?" he asked, raising one dark eyebrow.

"Sure." Her voice sounded squeaky in her ears. God have mercy, she thought to herself.

He pulled a stack of books off his bookshelf and placed them on his desk. "You need to take these home and read them. They've nothing to do with this case, but I suggest you familiarize yourself with them."

"Oh? Okay." She recognized some of them as fictional. "Dickens?" Never had she any idea Chase Ward would have read Charles Dickens' novels.

He just grunted in reply. "It's a good read. What can I say?" he shrugged. He mulled over her notes. Chase was perched on the edge of his desk with the papers in his hand, nodding here and there.

"Mr. Ward?" she asked.

"Hmmm?"

"Mrs. Martinez could have gotten a state appointed attorney, why did she call you?" Christine was curious because it was obvious the woman wasn't able to afford someone as expensive as Chase Ward.

"I'm doing it pro bono," he answered, not looking up from the notes. "The prosecutor asked me. Not everything we do is for money, Morrison."

Christine smiled, he never ceased to amaze her, this complicated man she realized. The more she worked for him and with him, the more she saw different layers of him. She couldn't wait to discover more.

"Shit! I can't stand this fucking heat." He fanned himself with the papers in hand. "Please, get us some water, Morrison before I disappear in a puddle of my own sweat."

"Of course, sir." Christine turned sharply, wanting to get away from him as fast as she could, because the perspiration running down his neck and slicking his pecs...

A cry escaped her, and tears followed. Christine wished furiously for the ground to swallow her. Her ankle hurt like hellfire.

"Goddammit Morrison!" He rushed to her side. "What did you do?"

Christine tried getting up and adjust her pencil skirt that had rucked up at the same time. She yelped with surprised when a pair of strong arms lifted her up as if she were weightless. Her hands held onto his broad shoulders. For a second they stared into each other's eyes. She was sure her heart missed a beat. He deposited her on his desk.

"Let me see." He lifted her injured foot. The heel of her shoe had broken off. He huffed, untied the broken shoe and tossed it right across the room. The other followed shortly after. "Why the hell you wear these heels in an office is beyond me." He scowled angrily at her.

She cursed herself silently for her trembling lips and teary eyes. It hurt. Surprisingly gently, he massaged her ankle and foot. She was speechless.

"I don't think you broke anything, except for that stupid shoe." He kept on rubbing her foot. "You have pretty feet. You must take better care of them." As soon as he said that he dropped her foot and looked away.

"I am sorry for being such a klutz." she managed to say. She rubbed her eyes and sniffed. Oh marvelous. Her water-resistant mascara had smudged. Now she must look like a tragic clown.

"Do you need me to take you to the ER? Move your toes." He handed her a tissue.

"Thanks. No, I'm fine." She blew her nose. Getting off the desk, she put her foot down only to feel a jabbing pain shoot up her leg. Trying not to scream she just took in a deep breath.

Chase shook his head. "Well, it's a nasty sprain. I'm taking you home."

"But -"

"Morrison, don't test me. You'll be staying at home tomorrow and keep off your foot." He grabbed hold of her arm. "And don't wear these neck breakers in the office ever again, you hear?"

Christine felt like such an idiot. She thought he looked irritated the way he was boring into her with those eyes. His mouth set in a grim line, the same mouth that a few seconds ago was so near to her own. She could almost... No! What the heck was she thinking?

He took his keys from his jacket pocket, not bothering to put it on. "Up you come." He lifted her up in his arms, being careful not to lift her skirt in the process. "Put your arm around my neck, otherwise it's going to be uncomfortable."

She felt the heat going into her cheeks but complied. The maleness of his scent and the heat did weird things to her heart. Christine hoped to goodness he couldn't feel how it was pounding. Chase carried her out of the office. He slammed the door shut with his foot. Fortunately, they were alone on their floor.

"Press the button, Morrison. My hands are a bit occupied." He said, close to her ear she felt his breath fanning her cheek.

She did as he asked.