View Park. Angela Winters

View Park - Angela Winters


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women could never rival the big players. Steven had showed them all, and he never let his sons forget it. He also never let them forget that a lot of people didn’t like their success and were waiting in bushes like hungry lions for any chance to bring them down, and it was essential that they not get that chance.

      “Nothing comes back to Chase Beauty,” Steven ordered. “Do you both understand?”

      “We understand,” Carter and Michael answered in unison, as they had always to anything their father told them.

      Janet Chase, the socialite, opened the office door without knocking, which was a sure sign she was angry. She didn’t need to wonder if she had everyone’s attention, because Janet always got everyone’s attention. She was an exceptionally beautiful, elegant and classy woman who looked at least a decade younger than she was. That she was born into money was obvious to anyone with eyes and it took only a second’s worth of time in her presence to see the best etiquette classes New York had to offer advertised in her every move and word. Including every look, like the dangerous one currently on her face as she eyed her husband and two sons.

      “I knew you were in here.” She placed delicately adorned hands on her trim, but curvy hips. She would not lose her temper. It wasn’t her style, but she would be obeyed. “What are you doing?”

      “Business, Janet.” It amazed Steven that after over thirty years of marriage he still thought she was too good for him.

      “Business is over.” She had been Steven’s mistress to his wife, Chase Beauty, for so long, but she wanted all the things its success gave her so she accepted it; only not today. “This is Leigh’s day. She’ll be here soon, and your guests are noticing your absence.” She pointed her finger at her men, all of whom she loved with every inch of her. “I want you all out there in five minutes, and don’t mess with me.”

      You just didn’t mess with Janet Chase.

      As Janet made her way down the long hallway toward her guests, she stopped at the edge of the expansive foyer, watching the crowd of the elite and other acceptables converse over fine wine and catered hors d’oeuvres. The finest black Los Angeles had to offer were all here for her daughter. No one declined an invitation from Janet Chase because she was the head of L.A. society; and everyone loved Leigh.

      Now Haley was another story. Haley was a cross to bear that Janet gladly accepted, but she took it too far too often. Janet scanned the room as she had been for the last hour. She had already scoured upstairs and the girl wasn’t there. She made her way to Maya, the woman who had helped her run this home and all of its inhabitants for the last ten years. Janet respected the woman’s strive for perfection—not accepting any less in anyone who worked for her.

      “Maya.” Janet took her by the arm, pulling her aside. “Where is Haley?”

      Maya looked at her as if she were demented to even ask. “I’ve checked everywhere, Mrs. Chase. She’s not in this house. With your daughter, there’s no telling where she is. Her cell phone is turned off.”

      “Keep trying.”

      Maya pulled her arm away. “You try. I’ve got a party to manage.”

      Janet’s baby girl was her biggest challenge. She spoiled the young beauty too much, but there would be no spoiling tonight. If Haley messed up Leigh’s homecoming, there would be hell to pay.

      Congressman Jack Flay’s boat was smaller than Steven Chase’s boat, but Haley Chase, the taker, expected that. Everything her father had was bigger than most. Besides, the size of Jack’s boat wasn’t what she was interested in. The night they had met, at a fund-raiser for what Haley didn’t care enough to remember, she was amused by his attention. With his wicked Irish charm, Yale education and perfect blonde wife at his side, his flirtations with her told Haley he was a man who liked to live dangerously. Not a good thing for a congressman, but a good thing for her. Haley loved danger.

      The twenty-two-year-old debutante knew she was breathtaking and irresistible, and as she laid on top of him in the master bedroom of his boat, the desire in his eyes only confirmed that fact. Her large brown eyes, glowing caramel skin and that curvaceous body made a fool of any man who tried to tame her.

      Haley loved it. Twice her age, Jack seemed positive he had her number, but he was all wrong. No man would ever get her number. She had theirs from the first moment she gave them the gift of her physical affection and she used them until she found someone else she’d rather use. She had to give it to him, Jack was great in bed. He had a wild side to him that she assumed his proper New England wife never saw and Haley was entertained by her ability to bring it out.

      Lifting up, she smiled victoriously at him. She lowered her head a bit, allowing her long, wavy auburn hair to fall over his sweaty face. He was such an idiot, thinking he could outlast her. Haley screamed and laughed at the same time as he grabbed her by the waist and flipped her over. On top of her now, he leaned down to kiss her and she felt a little tingling in the pit of her stomach. It wasn’t as strong as two months ago when they’d first had sex. The congressman’s time was almost up and he didn’t even know it.

      His mouth trailed her neck and Haley grinned. She dug her nails into his back, letting him know she didn’t have time to waste for foreplay this roll around. Jack got the message and went quickly to work. They were both too caught up to hear the boat that was probably half a mile away. When she wanted to, Haley made more noise than the average boat engine anyway.

      Usually L.A. traffic was enough to make twenty-six-year-old Leigh Chase, the angel, put a gun to her head. Not today. She was fine with traffic going as slow as it wanted to. Thinking the last year of her life in South Africa working with women and children with HIV and AIDS was bad, she had forgotten how much harder it was to stand up to Steven and Janet Chase.

      Riding in the backseat of the limo that had been waiting for her at LAX, Leigh couldn’t deny she was happy to be home. The people she loved most in the world would be there waiting for her, but so was the life that she left behind a year ago and vowed she would never, ever return to again. A life so comfortable in all its protection and ignorance.

      Leigh’s innocence was genuine. She was the angelic, unassuming type of beauty with a gentle tone and demeanor that made men want to save her. With smooth dark chocolate skin and soft tender features, she looked like a princess and had lived like one most of her life. Going to Duke Medical School after Smith was an eye opener to the real world, but Leigh had had no idea what was in store for her when she’d signed up for Africa. Her parents had taught her that giving was an obligation of people like themselves, but they were the ones who protested vehemently when she told them her choice. Always one to please, it broke her heart to see her parents so upset, but Africa was something she had to do no matter what, much like what she had to do now.

      Earl, the family driver for five years, glanced in his rearview mirror at Leigh, with an uncertain smile. “Your parents are very excited at seeing you. Your mother went on for months, thinking up schemes to get you back here.”

      “I don’t doubt it.” Leigh felt her stomach contract as the WELCOME TO VIEW PARK sign came into full view. It would only be a few minutes now. She was about to flip the switch on Mr. and Mrs. Chase and that never, ever went well.

      Michael stood at the edge of the great room, sizing up his wife as she snatched a glass of wine from a passing waiter. Kimberly Chase, the outsider, was the hottest woman in the room. She was always the hottest woman in the room. She still looked like a model at twenty-five, even after twins, with café au lait skin, smoldering green eyes and full lips, she was a strikingly beautiful woman by anyone’s standards and Michael’s standards were the highest.

      Kimberly didn’t come from anything close to money, a fact his mother never let him forget, but she wore it well. Very well, and Michael loved the hell out of her. (He’d been obsessed with her since the moment he laid eyes on her at that club in New York almost six years ago, when he was in his first year at Columbia Business School.) As he approached her now, he slowly wrapped his arm around her waist, taking a second to squeeze her butt.


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