Blurred Lines 1: CHASE Chapter 18

~Sofia-

The years had been kind to Clara. I know nothing about Chase’s biological father, but he took in almost all his beautiful features from his mom. Clara had clear blue eyes, like water reflecting a cloudless sky, framed by thick long lashes, and laugh lines beautified her face. You’d think she visits a beauty salon every week. Her skin, although slightly wrinkled by her age, was perfectly tanned. Living a few steps away from the beach did well for her.

“I’m sorry about Luisa,” she said, patting the back of my hand.

We ambled on the seaside, barefoot, hand in hand. The sand sips between my toes as we walk, circling the mansion.

Rafael left the mansion and said he had errands to do, but Clara made him promise to be back for dinner. “It’s hard to cope with loss,” I said, catching a view of our destination. Flowering shrubs line the paved path, dotted with outdoor lights. The trail leads to a gazebo with wooden pillars adorned with thick bougainvillea. Thin white curtains tied on each post swayed with the ocean breeze. Some sentences are incomplete if you are not reading this novel on Jobnib.com. Visit Jobnib.com to read the complete chapters for free. Gray outdoor couches and sectionals circled the glass coffee table beneath countless fairy lights hanging. from the huge pergola. Wedged on one pillar was a man made fire pit, facing away from the blowing sea breeze.

Clara and I wore the slippers we held while walking on the beach, reaching the stone footpath.

“If it’s okay, I want to know what happened. I only heard about it on the news, and Chase refused to go back even if 1 begged him to.”

As we sat comfortably on the cushion outdoor sectional, my brows furrowed. “We got the flowers you sent.” Although I didn’t understand why Clara and Chase couldn’t come to the funeral, I still sent a thank you letter back to them. It’s confusing why Clara looked baffled at what I said.

She paused, confused. “You did?”

I hummed, pulling out my phone to show her the flowers from mom and dad’s funeral. The funeral standee was made of calla lilies and hydrangeas, mom’s favorite flowers.

Clara bit her lip. A teenage girl carrying a tray of tea, lemonade, croissants, and m*ffins approached the gazebo. The girl’s name was Anita. I gathered as Clara thanked her.

Nursing a glass of lemonade, Clara offered me the m*ffins. “You still love blueberries?” she asked. My eyes lit up. Clara is amazing in the kitchen, just like mom. Cooking and baking were their pastime. I remember them winning every cooking contest held in our neighborhood. Nobody can beat their tandem. The moment the sweet taste of blueberries hit my palate, nostalgia crashed on me like a tsunami. It tasted just like it used to.

I tried to hold it in, but seeing Clara, remembering Mom while talking to Rafael, and this m*ffin just hit me hard in the chest.

“Oh, Sofia,” Clara drew me in her arms. “I miss Luisa. Every moment in the kitchen reminds me of her. Especially with these m8ffins, she taught me the exact sweetness you like. She told me how you cried in the school canteen in kindergarten because the m’ffin didn’t taste like the one she made.”

That made me chortle. I pulled away and wiped my tears. We fell into a fit of laughter and reminisced about the good old days when they would teach me how to cook in the kitchen. I had two moms who’d taught me how to cook back then.

Hours rolled by, and I finally witnessed the beauty of the gazebo. The fairy lights were hundreds of stars within arm’s reach. Around us were outdoor lights lining the path leading to the mansion. It’s a wonderland of lights, a meticulous work of art by Clara, no question. Apart from cooking, Clara loved gardening and interior design.

We walked back to the mansion, taking the path through the garden. I didn’t get to admire the mansion’s beauty before. I was too distracted about seeing Clara.

Tropical palm trees fenced the mansion, and the warm white outdoor lights illuminated the ash-white exterior. Panoramic arched windows lined the second floor where the rooms were located.

We went through the backdoor, which opened to a kitchen. An island surrounded by state-of-the-art

appliances. The interior was all gray and white. Despite the floor area of the house, the inside was a minimalist design.

“I would love to live inside this mansion,” I blurted out in awe.

Clara giggled, patting my hand looped on her arms. “You are welcome to stay here indefinitely, Sofia. Chase, is rarely home, and this place is too big for four people.” She mentioned Anita and her parents lived in the pool house, which left her alone inside this mansion at night.

I would love to stay with Clara, but that also meant Chase and I might come across each other here. It wasn a question if I’d be out of Chase’s penthouse. I need to, especially after the kiss we shared last night.

The tingling in my lips tells me it wasn’t just a silly dream from my memory. I used to dream about how it would feel like to kiss Chase. Are his lips soft? Does he taste sweet like those novels I’ve read? Will he use his tongue? Will I like it?

I got all the answers to those questions last night and more.

“Are you feeling okay?” Clara asked, feeling my forehead with her palms.

My cheeks burned deeper. If only she knew what was running through my head.

“I’m okay. Maybe it’s just the humid weather.”

As though summoned by the devil, Chase and Rafael entered the dining area at the same time we did, coming from the main entrance.

Chase paused for a beat, locking eyes with me, but he masked his surprise with his measure smirk.

I wish I was like him. I could feel my cheeks burning at the memory of his lips against mine, his hand under my shirt, feeling my skin and curves.

I shifted from foot to foot, feeling even warmer down there.

‘G’d, Sofial’

“Sunshine,” he greeted. I didn’t see him circle the kitchen island. He is now standing before me.

I blinked up at him. “Hey.”

Doesn’t he remember what happened last night? He must be too drunk to remember the kiss.

I don’t know if I should be disappointed or grateful if that’s the case.

“Claral” a high-pitched voice echoed from the main door. Wrapped in a body-fitting silver dress, armed with big curls and four-inch stilettos, Carlota came raging inside the mansion, owning it.

Her eyes met Rafael, Clara, and Chase’s. Her smile dropped to a scowl when she saw me. “Oh, I didn’t know you brought business home.” She murmured, kissing Clara, glaring at Rafael, and approaching Chase.

Chase was as stiff as a pole. She looked me up and down, seizing me up.

“What are you doing here?” Chase asked flatly.

“I brought feijoada for dinner, your favorite,” she raised the brown bag she was holding.

“Thanks. You can leave now,” Chase answered. Clara slapped him on the shoulder.

“Thank you, Carlota,” Clara cut in, taking the bag. Being the hospitable host, she invited Carota for dinner. The latter accepted her offer with a face-splitting smile.

 


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