Read Online Midnight At Tiffany's by Sarah Morgan - Free Book Online
Authors: Sarah Morgan
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card.
Chase Adams.
Chase Adams?
She checked the next card and the next. All had the same name.
Which meant only one thing.
He was a thief.
The man she’d spent the most amazing, unforgettable night of her life with was a thief.
He’d stolen Chase Adams’s wallet. Hands shaking, she tried to stuff the contents back inside and then saw the photo.
Her gaze lifted from the photo to the man on the bed. It was the same person.
He hadn’t stolen Chase Adams’s wallet; he
was
Chase Adams.
Crap, crap, crappity crap.
She’d had wild sex with Chase Adams. She’d spilled her hopes, her dreams and an entire bucket of ice on a man who was entirely out of her league.
A man who had lied about who he was.
Alarm and horror turned to anger.
Why hadn’t he told her the truth? Why had he lied about who he was?
Her mind tracked back over the night they’d shared. Allthose things he’d said. All those things he’d told her about himself. All lies.
But she’d told lies, too, hadn’t she?
The knowledge that she was being hypocritical doused the flames of her anger. She was equally guilty.
It was the ultimate irony that she’d begun the evening pretending to be someone else, only to discover that he’d also been pretending to be someone else.
She put the wallet back carefully and picked up her clothes.
This wasn’t a plot twist, it was karma, and Lara would have said that karma was a total bitch, but she was done with being Lara. She was back to being herself. For a little while she’d loved being herself and the reason she’d loved it was because he’d liked her that way.
All she had to do was carry on doing that without him, and ignore the fact that her heart felt as if it had been wrenched from her body.
CHAPTER SEVEN
“S O YOU’RE NOT going to the Summer Gala this evening?”
“That’s right.” Chase didn’t look up from his computer. “I’m going to the beach house, where I’m going to swim, sail and generally do all the things I used to enjoy doing before I forgot I enjoyed them.”
Rick stared at him, as if Chase had just announced he intended to spend the weekend injecting drugs. “I’ve been your personal assistant for five years and I didn’t know you enjoyed sailing.”
“Well, now you do.”
Rick looked uncomfortable. “Your father expects you to be at the Gala. He wants to talk to you about the Turner-Hill deal. There are people he wants you to meet.”
Another evening of fake smiles and mindless schmoozing, as Lara would have called it.
Except that now he knew her name wasn’t Lara. It was Matilda. Her name had been written on the manuscript she’d left in his apartment. Her name, her email, but no address.
“Everyone will be there.”
Not everyone. Not the one person in the world he badly wanted to see again.
He’d emailed her three times and had no response. Clearly whatever she’d felt for Alex, she couldn’t feel for Chase Adams.
“I won’t be there. I’ll be in the Hamptons, breathing insea air. Enjoying life after putting in a long working week. I won’t be back until Tuesday. Long working week equals long weekend.”
“What’s happened to you?” Rick looked bemused. “You’ve changed over the past few weeks.”
“Maybe I have.” Or maybe he’d just rediscovered the man he really was.
Chase stood up and stared down over the crisscross streets far beneath him. She was down there somewhere, living her life.
Did she think about him? Did she think about that night?
Why hadn’t she answered his emails?
Rick was obviously struggling to understand the changes in his boss. “Tuesday? Will you be calling in on Monday?”
“No.” Chase turned. “Did my brother call about that package I sent him?”
“Not since the last time you asked me.”
“Right.” Realizing that Rick was still hovering, he looked at him expectantly. “Was there something else?”
“You asked me to check the guest list for the party a few weeks ago.”
Tension rippled
Chase Adams.
Chase Adams?
She checked the next card and the next. All had the same name.
Which meant only one thing.
He was a thief.
The man she’d spent the most amazing, unforgettable night of her life with was a thief.
He’d stolen Chase Adams’s wallet. Hands shaking, she tried to stuff the contents back inside and then saw the photo.
Her gaze lifted from the photo to the man on the bed. It was the same person.
He hadn’t stolen Chase Adams’s wallet; he
was
Chase Adams.
Crap, crap, crappity crap.
She’d had wild sex with Chase Adams. She’d spilled her hopes, her dreams and an entire bucket of ice on a man who was entirely out of her league.
A man who had lied about who he was.
Alarm and horror turned to anger.
Why hadn’t he told her the truth? Why had he lied about who he was?
Her mind tracked back over the night they’d shared. Allthose things he’d said. All those things he’d told her about himself. All lies.
But she’d told lies, too, hadn’t she?
The knowledge that she was being hypocritical doused the flames of her anger. She was equally guilty.
It was the ultimate irony that she’d begun the evening pretending to be someone else, only to discover that he’d also been pretending to be someone else.
She put the wallet back carefully and picked up her clothes.
This wasn’t a plot twist, it was karma, and Lara would have said that karma was a total bitch, but she was done with being Lara. She was back to being herself. For a little while she’d loved being herself and the reason she’d loved it was because he’d liked her that way.
All she had to do was carry on doing that without him, and ignore the fact that her heart felt as if it had been wrenched from her body.
CHAPTER SEVEN
“S O YOU’RE NOT going to the Summer Gala this evening?”
“That’s right.” Chase didn’t look up from his computer. “I’m going to the beach house, where I’m going to swim, sail and generally do all the things I used to enjoy doing before I forgot I enjoyed them.”
Rick stared at him, as if Chase had just announced he intended to spend the weekend injecting drugs. “I’ve been your personal assistant for five years and I didn’t know you enjoyed sailing.”
“Well, now you do.”
Rick looked uncomfortable. “Your father expects you to be at the Gala. He wants to talk to you about the Turner-Hill deal. There are people he wants you to meet.”
Another evening of fake smiles and mindless schmoozing, as Lara would have called it.
Except that now he knew her name wasn’t Lara. It was Matilda. Her name had been written on the manuscript she’d left in his apartment. Her name, her email, but no address.
“Everyone will be there.”
Not everyone. Not the one person in the world he badly wanted to see again.
He’d emailed her three times and had no response. Clearly whatever she’d felt for Alex, she couldn’t feel for Chase Adams.
“I won’t be there. I’ll be in the Hamptons, breathing insea air. Enjoying life after putting in a long working week. I won’t be back until Tuesday. Long working week equals long weekend.”
“What’s happened to you?” Rick looked bemused. “You’ve changed over the past few weeks.”
“Maybe I have.” Or maybe he’d just rediscovered the man he really was.
Chase stood up and stared down over the crisscross streets far beneath him. She was down there somewhere, living her life.
Did she think about him? Did she think about that night?
Why hadn’t she answered his emails?
Rick was obviously struggling to understand the changes in his boss. “Tuesday? Will you be calling in on Monday?”
“No.” Chase turned. “Did my brother call about that package I sent him?”
“Not since the last time you asked me.”
“Right.” Realizing that Rick was still hovering, he looked at him expectantly. “Was there something else?”
“You asked me to check the guest list for the party a few weeks ago.”
Tension rippled
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