The Strong Survive Love Against All Odds

"Dad, I don't need another secretary. I am perfectly happy with Johnson." Chase Ward glared into his father's steely grey eyes, slightly leaning towards him. Eyes that were so similar to his own, yet Chase was nothing like him. Nothing. The latter seemed unconcerned by his son's attitude.

Why was he meddling with my staff? Chase felt the muscle underneath his left eye twitch. It usually happened when he felt irritated.

"Sit down Chase. You're wearing out my carpet."

"I don't have time for this. I need to be in court in --" he checked his Rolex, "less than an hour."

"Johnson is ready for retirement, Chase. He has a heart condition too and he told me the stress was getting to him." Alexander Ward skimmed over the papers on his desk.

Chase sighed. He knew he's been working poor Mr. Johnson too hard, but never realized he had health issues. Johnson had never complained or mentioned anything to him.

"I think Ms. Morrison will be perfect for you. She is a very bright young lady. Give her a chance." He looked at his son over steepled fingers.

Chase narrowed his eyes at Alexander. He hated his 'I know best' attitude. But arguing with Alexander Ward was a futile exercise. He still tried. "Besides, it was never mentioned during the board meeting. I was of the opinion that we were going to have some cutbacks."

The older man shrugged. "I am doing a favor for a friend." Alexander sat back in his leather wingback chair. His expression dared opposition. He knew his son wouldn't be easy to convince.

Ah! There we go, the real reason, Chase thought. "Is she even competent? I don't have time to teach her." Chase stood, shrugging on his Armani jacket. Judge Kowalski was presiding, and he didn't take kindly to tardiness.

"Of course," Alexander handed him a folder. "Here's her resume. Word of warning, Son. Don't be too quick to judge on appearances. This is a big break for her. I am throwing her in deep water, but I have faith in her."

He only has faith in someone or something if he stands to gain from it, Chase scoffed. "Well, you're throwing her into my pool, Dad. For her own sake I hope she's an excellent swimmer."

He glanced over the contents of the folder. Studied Paralegal at Harvard but had not graduated yet. Then he saw her photo.

Gods, another Barbie doll. Of all the people his father would appoint. He sighed again and caught Alexander's smirk. He knows how Chase felt about it. The old Devil.

"Fine. But three months' probation."

"Of course," said Alexander. "I know you won't be disappointed." He went back to reading an article about modern day piracy off the West Coast of Africa in the Daily News. "The world is going to hell in a hand basket..." he mumbled.

***

Christine Morrison took a deep breath to calm her nerves. It felt like she has been waiting forever. Her palms were all sweaty. She wiped them on her navy skirt, glancing around to make sure no one saw that move. Show no weakness. The Xanax she had taken that morning doesn't seem to be very effective today. Her heart was beating like a bongo drum on steroids.

Will he like her? What kind of man was he? She couldn't find much information about Chase Ward on social media. It seems he liked his privacy.

The only information she could find was of his court appearances. Words like 'cutthroat' and 'formidable' were used to describe him. She could only hope that he would be a kind boss to work for. Someone who would value her as a person and not treat her like an object.

She looked up when she heard the ding of the elevator. Some people stepped out and then she saw him.

Her first thought was that he was the most attractive man she had ever come across. Classical features, high cheekbones, aquiline nose with a neat, short dark beard framing his mouth. Perfectly combed hair. His Armani suit fitted him well, from head to toe, the epitome of elegance.

Smiling sincerely, she walked towards him, noticing the little frown between his eyes. Grey as the sea on a stormy day, she thought to herself and just as cold. She wondered if her skirt had ridden up to warrant such a disdainful look. She smoothed her hand down her backside just to be sure. Suddenly Christine felt severely judged. Weighed, judged and found to be too light. She gulped.

***

The photo did little to do her justice, Chase thought a little irritated. She was breathtakingly beautiful. Ivory skin – just a touch of makeup. He hated it when women plastered themselves with beauty products. She sure didn't need it. He reminded himself quickly that poison also came in pretty bottles.

Although dressed demurely, it didn't take away from her shapely figure. She had legs like a dancer, he observed when she came walking towards him. She smiled which lit up her striking blue eyes. Her golden blonde hair was done up in a formal chignon and unwittingly he thought how it would look down.

"Mr. Ward, it's a pleasure to meet you."

He ignored her outstretched hand. A blush crept up from her neck to her cheeks. A twinge of satisfaction rushed through his blood.

"Follow me, Ms. Morrison. I don't have time for niceties. I am due in court in half an hour."

"Of course, Sir."

She had to almost run to keep up with his long strides. In the elevator a whiff of her perfume enveloped him. It smelled floral and light. He found it enjoyable, despite not wanting to.

Damn it, he would have a tough time keeping the men out of his office he thought grimly. She kept staring ahead of her, not even looking his way. Well, she got the message alright. Chase Ward won't be falling for her looks or charms. She had better be damn good at her job or suffer the consequences.

The elevator stopped at the twelfth floor of Ward and Associates, Attorneys at Law and he got out before the girl. Johnson came to meet them. Mr. Johnson had been with the firm for years and Chase trusted him with his life. The mere thought of having to replace him made him angrier towards his father and his aggravation towards Ms. Morrison grew.

"Johnson, this is Ms. Morrison. She is your unfortunate replacement. Please see to it that she gets settled." He glanced at his Rolex. "I've got to fly. I am running late already."

"The Trelawney file, Sir." The older man pushed the required documents into Chase's hands. "Don't worry about a thing Mr. Ward, sir, I will take good care of Ms. Morrison."

"I have no doubt, Johnson." He ignored the girl pointedly. "Reschedule my appointments for today."

"Already done, Sir."

"Good man." Chase rushed to the elevator before the door closed.

***

Christine turned to the elderly gentleman called Johnson. At least he had a kind face. Other than the unmannered asshole who was now her boss. What the heck was his problem anyway?

"Ms. Morrison, this way, if you please." Johnson led the way to the office.

It was a spacious setup; stylishly furnished. Above a two-seater russet leather couch hung a courtroom sketch of the man himself. Christine smiled. And they say women are vain.

Three wingback leather chairs of the same color and a glass and chrome coffee table completed the waiting area. Her desk faced the clients' area, and she would have the dubious pleasure to bask in his likeness all day.

Those grey eyes seemed to be watching her even now, judging her with displeasure. He was the spitting image of his father, just a younger version. But that was where the similarities ended. She found Mr. Ward Senior, a charming, sympathetic gentleman. He had promised to keep their arrangement confidential.

Christine vowed to do her best to prove herself worthy of his trust. Even if it meant tolerating his obnoxious son.

Johnson spent the best part of the morning explaining what he expected of Christine as well as Chase's daily routine.

"As long as you make sure your work is impeccable and you don't let mistakes slip through, Mr. Ward is not a difficult man to work with." Johnson said, "He likes things to be done a certain way and – "

"You mean, his way or the highway?" she smirked.

Johnson smiled only slightly. "Well, yes. He's been under a lot of pressure lately so he might come off as a bit disgruntled."

"I suppose that's one way of putting it. So, what you are in fact trying to say to me is: Don't poke the bear?"

The older man's brown eyes crinkled with mirth. "Exactly. I have a feeling you will be just what he needs."

Christine had serious doubts about it. But she plead the fifth.

The day went buy at an alarming pace. Christine's head spun with information overload. Fortunately, the client database was up to date as well as Mr. Ward's schedule.

Johnson took her on a tour of the office floor. There were four other attorneys on their floor and Johnson introduced her to their respective secretaries. She smiled until her face felt stiff. The looks the women gave her made her feel like the new kid at school. Technically she was, she thought.

"How long have you worked for our Mr. Ward?" She was curious to know if Mr. Johnson was as old as he looked, or if he aged due to work stress.

"I started with Mr. Ward's father when he was a young attorney. It's been now well over 30 years. I basically raised young Mr. Ward." He smiled, gazing into the distance. "He adored his father and came in here almost daily to spend time with him. That is until..." Mr. Johnson sighed. "Would you like me to order some lunch for you, my dear? I am sure we need a break, don't you?"

Surprised by his sudden switch in topics, but not wanting to pursue the matter, she welcomed the offer. She was ravenous. Being nervous about her first day, Christine didn't think to pack something and couldn't bring herself to have breakfast.

Just as Mr. Johnson left, a man entered the office. He was tall and fair, broad shouldered, not as broodingly handsome as Mr. Ward junior. She frowned. Broodingly handsome? Where did that thought come from?

"Good morning, how may I help you, sir?" She managed to give her best professional smile.

"So, it's true."

"I beg your pardon?" What the hell was he on about?

He smirked. "Oh, my dear, your presence has the office buzzing. I just had to come check for myself." He stretched out his hand and enveloped hers. "Mason Pritchard, at your service." He brought her hands up to his lips and touched the knuckles briefly. Christine quickly pulled them out of his grasp.

For a moment she was speechless.

This man spelled trouble. "Mr. Pritchard, pleased to meet you. Unfortunately, Mr. Ward is still in court and – "

"Oh, I know, Darlin'. I came to see you. I needed to see for myself what all the fuss was about. And let me tell you, I am not disappointed." His eyes wandered over her entire body. "It's about time Chase replaced good old Mr. Johnson. He's not much for the eye, if you know what I mean."

She knew exactly what he meant and didn't like it one bit. One of her pet peeves was how people - men in particular - treated her like some kind of sex object. He literally measured her cup size with his gaze.

"I will tell Mr. Ward that you stopped by." She offered, hoping he would get the message and leave. But no such luck. He plopped himself on her desk. She glared at him, frowning, her plump lips narrowed in a thin line. He reminded her of a fox, the way he watched her, his hazel eyes had a cunning glint.

"You are stunning. Don't look so offended." He raised his hands to show his innocent intent. "It's just a compliment, Miss... Morrison, was it?" He raised one eyebrow at her, leaning in closer.

Before she could reply her peripheral vision caught movement at the door. She breathed a sigh of relief. But the relief quickly turned to terror when she noticed the look on Mr. Ward's face.

"Pritchard!" his voice lashed through the office.

Mr. Pritchard's body jerked upright, almost overturning the computer screen. Christine grabbed it just in time.

"Has no one in this building work to do?" He threw a folder on the desk, those grey eyes boring into Christine's. His mouth curved downwards in contempt.

Christine's stomach made a weird flip-flop and she had to swallow hard. Her heart rate sped up, she felt faint.

Of all the times to get a panic attack! She needed to get herself under control. Christine concentrated on her breathing, keeping her eyes on the folder in front of her.

"I was just admiring your new acquisition, Chase. Kudos to you." Pritchard said, seemingly unfazed.

Mr. Ward sneered in reply. "I do not appreciate you bothering my secretary. This is not a dating service."

Pritchard lifted his hands up in surrender. "Okay, okay I'm leaving. See you later, Ms. Morrison." He blew her a kiss and left.

Mr. Ward turned to her. "Just a word of warning, Ms. Morrison, you can flirt all you want with the men in this building, but not on my time." He gestured to the file on the desk. "This needs to be filed and – "

"I was not flirting with Mr. Pritchard!" All the blood had rushed to her face, making her head throb with a dull ache. She grabbed the folder, glaring back at him.

He cocked his head to one side, studying her as if she were an insect under a microscope. "Good to know. Now be a good girl and fetch me a coffee and a muffin. I am starving." He turned abruptly and went into his office and closed the door.

"Son of a..." Throwing the folder down Christine stomped down the corridor, passing Johnson on her way out. With her lunch.

Two weeks passed. Two weeks of grinding her teeth and biting her tongue to deal with the superior Chase Ward. Christine doubted if she would be able to keep from strangling him.

Speak of the Devil...

"Morrison! Did I, or did I not give you a template for writing these legal briefs?" Chase Ward bent his considerable lengthy frame forward over Christine's desk to push his face up to hers. His elegant fingers were splayed over the surface of the desktop to support his weight.

"You did, Mr. Ward." She calmly looked back into the steely grey eyes in front of her.

"Then why, for the love of God, did you change it?" he snarled at her, demanding explanation.

"I thought it needed to be updated. The style seemed stilted and wordy." Christine said and meant it.

Chase's face went scarlet. He hoisted himself off the desk, taking in a deep breath, pulled his black silk tie straight and stormed back to his office.

Christine sat frozen to her seat. Silently counting to ten in her head, she reached six when the light on her intercom went off.

"Yes, Mr. Ward?" she asked, trying to keep her voice level. Thank goodness she took her anti-anxiety medication this morning, she thought. Traffic was murderous in the morning, and the Lyft drivers were aggressive. As was her pissed-off boss at the moment.

"My office. Now." His voice had a dangerous edge to it which made her stomach churn as if a thousand butterflies lived there.

Christine found him, drink in hand, standing in front of the massive, tinted window. Whether he was admiring the Empire State building or just staring aimlessly, Christine wouldn't wager a guess.

"Mr. Ward?" she managed to say after clearing her throat.

He turned around slowly, sipping at the contents of the glass. He studied her for a moment that felt like hours to her. She shifted uncomfortably on her stilettos.

"Just tell me, Morrison, are you a qualified paralegal or are you a secretary to this firm?" Chase's soft tone belied his chagrin. "If I understand your resume to be correct, you have not yet obtained your diploma or degree. Am I right?"

Christine swallowed down her irritation. Why did he find it necessary to belittle her when all he could do was just to tell her to fix it like he wanted it? But no, he liked to see her cringe. Why she couldn't begin to understand.

Folding her arms around her waist, she raised her eyes to meet his direct stare. A small smile played around his mouth as he watched her passive defiant stance. She certainly was no coward, he thought. Those cobalt blue eyes of hers sent daggers to his.

"I understand, Mr. Ward. I am your secretary. I should have spoken to you first. I apologize." Christine's nails dug into the soft flesh of her forearm. As much as he was right, he still didn't need to rub it in her face like that.

He motioned for her to take a seat on one of the chairs in front of his desk. He leaned his buttocks on the edge of the large mahogany desk, watching her. Christine turned her head away to look anywhere else but at Chase.

He was close. Too close to her. She inhaled his manly aftershave, which had a citrusy undertone that she found she liked maybe a little too much. Her heart was doing crazy things inside her chest, and she hated that he aroused these weird feelings in her. Ugh! He made her feel like a schoolgirl with a crush on her teacher. Damn him!

"Well, now that we're on the same page, Miss Morrison," he placed special emphasis on the word 'miss' which made a slight frown appear on Christine's flawless face and a smirk on Chase's. "I would like you to change the template back the way it was originally. Be it stilted or whatever, I don't give a fuck."

Christine rose out of the chair to leave, but Chase's hand on her shoulder stopped her. Wide-eyed she looked from his hand to his face. He removed his hand abruptly.

"No, sit. You will do it on your own time. After hours." He said, narrowing his eyes at her.

So, this is how he planned on punishing her, the bastard. It was a Friday, and she had plans to go out with some of her friends.

"Will you be paying me overtime, Mr. Ward?" she couldn't help the acid tone in her voice.

He chuckled darkly, "Don't push it, Morrison." His eyes roved over her body. He tilted his head to one side. Chase loved to see the angry way she pinched those luscious lips of hers in a thin line. She positively bristled with anger like a cornered kitten.

Casually he wondered how passionate she would be in bed. His bed to be precise. He shook his head to get that thought out of his head. She was off limits. Besides, he was through with complications and gold-digging women.

"Why did you want to study law, a girl like you, Morrison?" he asked quietly.

"A girl like me?" Christine spat out. She didn't like his tone one bit. What the hell was he implying?

Chase removed himself from the desk, putting distance between them. "Yeah, I mean what motivated you? And why didn't you finish your studies?" His father wouldn't give him any personal details about Christine. It intrigued him that Alexander would be so secretive about her.

"I fail to see the relevance, your Honor." Christine mocked him, getting up to leave his office.

Chase laughed. "I'm not interrogating you, Morrison. I'm just curious."

Christine speared him with her gaze. "I couldn't afford to complete my studies. I had other pressing obligations."

"I see." Chase said, "Strange you hadn't snagged yourself a rich man at Harvard, like most girls do."

He might as well have slapped her the way his words shocked her. But she gathered herself immediately, squaring her shoulders as she regarded him coldly.

"I am not most girls, Mr. Ward, now excuse me, I have work to do." She slammed the door behind her so hard, one of his framed certificates fell off the wall, landing on the plush carpet.

Chase bent to pick it up. He chuckled. He could use an assistant like her. She seemed to be able to handle herself under pressure. She was much too smart to be a mere secretary. Chase made a note to speak to Alexander about giving her on-the-job training, something he never thought he would do.

***

"Hey, hey, Ms. Morrison! Wait up." Mason Pritchard called out to Christine about to take the elevator.

Surprised, she turned around to watch the tawny-haired man approaching her. Grinning boyishly, his grey jacket over one arm, his briefcase in the other hand he rushed to her side.

"Can I help you with something, Mr. Pritchard." Christine smiled politely at him.

"Glad I caught you, Darlin'." He pushed the button to call the elevator, leaning slightly over her. "I'm dying for a drink, but I hate to go alone. Fancy getting one with me?"

"I..." Christine was about to refuse. She didn't want the office gossips to get the wrong idea. It was bad enough as it were in the break room with some of the females giving her the stink-eye. Rumor had it a lot of them had their hearts set on a position with Chase Ward.

Christine didn't think the position they were after had anything to do with being his secretary. She'd seen the way they eye-fucked him when he made an appearance. Not that he did it that often. No, he was quite content having her fetch his meals and whatever he wanted, like she was his personal slave.

"Oh, c'mon. Just one, teensy drink." He pleaded, making puppy eyes at her. "I had a bad day and could use a pretty lady's company."

Honestly, he was attractive and much more easy-going than some people she knew. But she wanted to spend some time with her girl friends and had already promised them a night out.

Just then Chase came out of his office to lock up. He stood like a statue in front of the door, the keys rattling in his hand. Christine saw him and noticed the dark look crossing Chase's features as he watched Mason leaning towards her, his hand resting against the wall by her head.

Feeling vindictive, Christine decided to say yes. Screw Chase Ward, this was her time. Her private life was her own. He didn't own her, nobody did.

"I would love to, Mr. Pritchard." She said, her eyes on Chase.

Christine followed Mason to his car, a silver Audi sedan. He opened the door for her, and she slid into the soft leather seat at the passenger side. Mason bent over her, making her nervous having his face so close to hers. He fastened her seatbelt, hazel eyes sparkling mischievously as he noted the faint blush appearing on her cheeks.

"Don't look so nervous, I don't bite." He chuckled, "Unless you want me to."

"Mr. Pritchard..." she began but he pulled away from the curb and turned into the traffic.

"There's this bar not far from here I like to go to. Nice atmosphere. I'm sure you'll enjoy it." he flashed her another one of his boyish grin which, much to her surprise, she found attractive.

"Umm... Actually, I was going to meet some friends for a night out. So, only one drink, Mr. Pritchard."

"Mason." He urged, "No need to be so formal, Darlin'." He cocked one eyebrow at her, "Relax, will ya."

Christine admitted to herself she felt nervous being alone with this man. If it weren't for Chase riling her up, she wouldn't have agreed to go with him. Although Mason seemed friendly and charming, Christine had too many experiences with men just wanting to get her into bed to know the signs. She wasn't planning to complicate her life with office romances.

Mason watched the girl out of the corner of his eye. She wasn't going to be reeled in easily, but Mason wasn't someone who gave up without a fight. No sir, he vowed to give her enough slack until she tired of fighting the pull. He knew Chase was interested in Christine, and that was enough for him to act on. He'd be damned if he let Chase get to her first.

***

"You could always message your friends to meet up with you here, Christine." Mason suggested when they arrived at the Irish Bar in Midtown. He opened the car door for her, giving her his arm to take.

Christine smiled at his gentlemanly gesture. "Maybe I'll do that." She said as they entered the pub. Strange, she didn't figure Mason for a beer drinker. He seemed more refined. But looks could be deceiving, she supposed.

He found a corner table, (a whiskey barrel serving as a table to be precise) and pulled out a chair for her to sit. "Now, if we were on a proper date, I would take you to a fancier establishment." He said, grinning at her widening eyes. "But, of course, this is just a friendly drink."

She clicked her tongue. He was a teaser. "One friendly drink, Mr. Pritchard – Mason, sorry." She giggled, slightly embarrassed.

He ordered two craft beers for them. While they waited for their drinks, Christine texted her friends, Maxine and Frankie sending them her location.

The bar had a cozy atmosphere in the true Irish tradition. Shiny wooden floors, Irish music playing in the background and the yeasty smell of beer and chips completed the scene.

Frankie texted back: C U soon followed by a string of smiley emojis.

This made Christine feel better about being alone with Mason. At least her friends had her back.

"Tell me, Christine... What is it like to work for our star attorney?" Mason raised his glass to peer over it at the girl. So pretty, he mused. His eyes flitted over her understated navy skirt suit and wondered why she hid her obvious assets with such hideous clothes.

Christine sipped the amber liquid delicately. She shrugged, "He has a heavy schedule. Keeps me busy." Christine avoided his gaze. Chase wasn't the easiest person to work for, he was hotheaded and arrogant, but still... Gossiping about him with Mason? It didn't sit well with her.

Mason gave a dry chuckle. "He can be a prick at the best of times. My condolences." He raised his glass to hers.

She just smiled.

***

Chase needed to let off some steam. Maybe a run would help, he decided. Also, a cold shower, he thought irritated. He pulled off his tie and threw it across his bed. That snake Mason! Of course, he would go out of his way to put the moves on Christine. Knowing Mason like he does, the SOB would do his utmost to one-up him. Angrily he unbuttoned his shirt, throwing it to join his tie.

Mason always had this effect on him, just seeing him in passing had the ability to rile him up. The loathing he felt for Mason Pritchard ran bone deep. To think they had been so close at a time. It felt like eons ago.

All that changed because of one woman. Amanda. The love of his life. Chase smiled bitterly; his grey eyes turned stone cold. The betrayal of the two people who were the closest to him still burned in his gut.

"Should have been him in that car and not Amanda." He told himself in the mirror.

Now Mason seemed to have set his sights on Christine. Poor girl. He should warn her against the bastard. The muscle under his left eye started to tick. But no, it wasn't his business who his secretary saw after hours. He must not make it his concern, he tried to convince himself.

He pulled on a T-shirt, kicked off his shoes, socks and replaced his pants with jogging shorts. The June weather at this time of evening was perfect for a quick run. Chase usually liked to jog mornings but with his busy schedule he had to be flexible. He prided himself on keeping his lean-muscled body in prime condition. Healthy body, healthy mind, his father instilled that into all his children.

At fifty-seven Alexander Ward still had most women drooling over him. He was physically strong and had kept his strong, handsome looks. All four of his sons had his attributes, even the twins who, although they resembled their mother more, at thirteen years old had inherited their father's built and charisma.

Pity they were such evil little monsters, Chase thought.

Having finished dressing, he went out of his apartment for his much-needed run.

***

Frankie and Maxine, two of Christine's friends arrived at the Irish Pub and saved her from Mason's subtle interrogation.

"Girl, your boss is hot!" Maxine gushed close to Christine's ear. The pretty redhead embraced Christine, ogling Mason over her shoulder.

Frankie, their gay best friend, scrutinized Mason with hooded eyes, weighing him openly. Mason met the young man's gaze with a sly grin. The redhead girl seemed to be someone ready for fun. Nice ass, he thought.

"Oh, no. Mr. Pritchard is not my boss." Christine laughed, kissing the young olive-skinned man on both cheeks.

Mason frowned at hearing her using his last name, but he smiled nevertheless, extending his hand towards the guy and winking at the redhead.

"Mason. We work at the same firm." He took Maxine's hand and led her to his seat. "Christine and I were just having a friendly drink. Please join us."

"Why, don't mind if we do." Maxine smiled prettily back at Mason. She lifted one shapely leg over the other making her short black skirt ride up high enough to reveal a creamy thigh.

Mason chuckled low. Usually he won't mind easy pickings, but he had his sights set on Christine. No matter how long it takes. He grabbed two more chairs for himself and Frankie to join the girls.

"You don't look like a secretary." Frankie observed, chin in hand, watching Mason sipping his beer.

Christine giggled, a pink blush coloring her alabaster skin. "No, Mason is a lawyer, Frankie."

"Hmm, I bet he's very good at it too..." Maxine tittered. She winked at Mason.

Mason shrugged, watching Christine. "Some would differ..."

"Mason is being too modest. He comes highly recommended." Christine said, pointedly. She knew about the rivalry between him and Chase. It's hard to ignore all the gossip going around. But Alexander Ward would never appoint anyone in his firm who didn't have the proper credentials. Except for herself, but that was another story.

"Honey, you're still in your work clothes," Frankie groaned. "We can't hit the clubs with you looking like Martha Stuart." He said, his hand waving at her in disgust. "You need a make-over, stat!"

Mason hid a smile behind his hand. He couldn't agree more. Being curious, Mason asked: "Sounds like fun. Where are you headed?"

"There's this hot new club in Manhattan. I'd love to go there." Maxine replied.

"So, what are we waiting for?" Mason held out his hand to Christine.

She hesitated a few minutes before taking his proffered hand and he pulled her out of her seat, their bodies making brief contact.