Page 18 of To the Chase

I ate my soup, the warmth soothing my throat. It was way better than anything I would’ve cooked in my current state.Thanks to Anthony.

I picked up my phone and messaged him.

Me:Are you real, Ant?

Almost immediately, I received a reply.

Anthony:Define “real,” Bea.

Me:That isn’t creepy at all, buddy.

Anthony:How’s the soup?

Me:Delicious. Thank you for taking care of me.

Anthony:Of course. Anything for you, Bea.

“That’s a normal response from an AI bot,” I muttered, tossing my phone aside. “Totally normal.”

Benjamin grunted, snuggling closer in his sleep, and I decided to stop overthinking and just…enjoy my soup.

Chapter Seven

Salvatore

The Past

Ithrewoffmytie and yanked the buttons of my shirt, uncaring if they popped off. Time was running short, and I still hadn’t settled on what to wear tonight.

It didn’t help that Sam was watching my internal and external mayhem with a smirk. He’d been encouraging me to get my head out of my codes for years, and now that I had, he was finding amusement in it.

“It would help if you’d just tell me what to wear instead of laughing at me,” I groused, rummaging through my shirts. When I’d packed before leaving LA., it had not been with the intention of trying to look good for a woman like Bea—or any woman, for that matter. My clothing was finely tailored, but utilitarian for the most part. My present choices were workwear, gym clothes, or anime T-shirts.

“Sorry, sorry.” Sam waved his hand in front of his laughing face. “I’ve just never seen you like this. Let me enjoy it.”

I tossed my shirt at him. “Enjoy it after you tell me what to wear.” Hands on my hips, I scanned my discarded clothing. Nothing wasright. Trousers, button-downs, sweatpants—no, no,no. The mess I’d made wasn’t helping my disordered thoughts.

Sam strode out of the room and returned a minute later with a T-shirt and jacket. “Here. Wear this with your black jeans.”

I took the clothes from him. “Are you sure I shouldn’t be more formal?”

He chuffed, shaking his head. “You’re not taking her to a fine dining restaurant. Besides, I didn’t catch the formal vibe from her. She has blue hair.”

She did. A shade between sky and navy. Royal blue? I’d have to ask her if it had an official name. I’d been distracted in the moment, but it had been on my mind since I’d first noticed the color.

The clothes Sam had suggested were right. I knew it looking in the mirror. Not my typical style, but I wasn’t going to be tugging at them all night. No tags digging into my skin. The fabric was neither itchy nor confining. I looked and felt normal. Good.

Sam nodded his approval when I came out of the bathroom. “She’ll like it,” he declared. How he was so certain, I didn’t know. Bea was as much a mystery to him as she was to me.

Then again, Sam was a lot better at catching people’s vibes—one of the reasons I went to him for advice.

I slipped my wallet and phone into my pockets, checked the time on my watch, and blew out a heavy breath.

“Why am I doing this?” I asked. “What’s the point of getting this nervous over a woman who lives in an entirely different state?”

Sam rose from the chair he’d been sitting in by the window and strode over to me. He patted my jacket and stepped back, assessing me.

“She doesn’t have to live in another state, you know. She could be one more reason to take the DoD contract.”