He clicked off the file quickly.
"Get off!" He snarled back at his brother and employer as he wiped the sweat from his brow and forced himself to remain in his chair rather than rushing to her apartment and begging her, pleading on bent knee, to allow him to see her in each damned article.
"Damn, I hope Jaci was paying attention to what she bought." Cameron sighed. "Better yet, I hope not. I'm too young for a stroke."
A stroke was the least of Chase's worries now.
He lifted his gaze to Ian. "Inform Courtney, please, that was uncalled for." She was conniving against him. He'd known she'd end up doing it, just not this quickly.
Ian grinned. "Yes, I assumed this was your fault. What did you do? Forget the Rutherford girl's birthday? Some kind of personal anniversary?"
Chase almost paled. No, Kia would have never told those women he refused to spend the night with her. But she might have denied a relationship. Because there was no relationship.
"I am not involved in a relationship with her." The words torn from his lips, forced past them.
Ian's brow lifted. He swore Cameron was choking with laughter behind him.
"You don't say," Ian drawled, black brows lifting in his darkly tanned face.
"That's exactly what I said," he growled.
Ian glanced to Cameron. "He's a bit touchy on the subject, isn't he?"
"A bit." Cameron still sounded choked.
Chase was ready to turn and smack the air back in his brother's lungs when his cell phone rang. Picking it up from the desk, he tensed and cursed.
The number for the junior investigator they had watching Kia for any signs that Drew was harassing her showed up on the display.
"Falladay," he answered.
"Mr. Falladay, Mr. Stanton caught Ms. Rutherford in the lobby of a restaurant I followed her to. They had a confrontation. I was able to pick up bits and pieces of it but she left rather upset. I've followed her back to her apartment and Mr. Stanton is now lingering in the lobby there."
"What did you hear?"
The investigator paused.
"Out with it," he snapped.
"Sir, Mr. Stanton informed Ms. Rutherford he requested you as a third one night, and you refused the offer."
Chase froze. He could feel the fury rising inside him now, a bleak, dark wave of sheer rage and knowledge.
"Fuck him." He came out of his chair, ignoring Cameron's and Ian's gazes, sharpening in concern. "Stay on him. I'm heading to the apartment building now."
"Yes, sir."
Chase disconnected the call, shoved the phone into the holster at his belt, then lifted his gaze to Ian.
"Stanton's out of control," he snapped. "I want something done with him."
Ian glanced at Cameron, then back to Chase. "You haven't declared her—"
"We made her a f**king promise," he said. "You contact the committee, Ian. I made her a promise and they backed me on it. They backed me on having the investigator check out the problem, and the problem is there. I want it handled."
Ian's eyes narrowed on him. "Within the bounds of your promise." He nodded slowly. "We'll discuss it when you return."
Chase wasn't listening. He slammed out of the office and moved quickly along the hallways to the front door. His car was waiting in the driveway where he had parked it earlier, the keys hanging in the ignition.
He tore out of the estate in a squeal of rubber and a snarl of fury.
Fucking Stanton, he was going to end up having to kill him at this rate. He was to stay away from Kia. Period. If his fist hadn't made that plain enough two years ago, then Chase figured a bit heavier of a blow might get the point across. Several of them perhaps.
Kia could feel the anger, resentment, and the overwhelming embarrassment rising inside her as she slammed the door to her apartment and tossed the bags that had been waiting for her with the apartment manager to the couch.
They tipped, they spilled, and she didn't give a damn. She had to dash away the furious tears beginning to drip from her eyes.
This was why she had stayed out of society. Because the barbs, the cutting remarks, and the pure cruelties that abounded sliced into her in ways she had no idea how to combat.
And Drew had struck the most telling blow since the night he had told her she wasn't woman enough for him. Hell, that had been even before he had brought his damned third in on her.
Chase had rejected her?
The fact that it wouldn't have mattered who Drew brought in that night was beside the point. The fact that had it been Chase she would have died of mortification was beside the point as well.
Chase had rejected her.
She swiped at her tears as she jerked the coverlet from the back of the couch and tossed it across the room. The pillow followed. The rage inside her had no outlet, and she had no idea what to do with it.
She kicked her shoes from her feet and snarled as one slapped into the wall and the other landed somewhere in the kitchen.
She was acting childishly and she knew it. Irrational, her mother would have said. She sniffed and didn't bother to wipe the tears from her face this time. She covered it with her hands, instead, leaned against the wall, and let the first sob break free.
She couldn't even understand why she felt so rejected, so forlorn inside. She felt as though her pride had been stripped again, and she had no idea how to repair the rift.
Oh God, if anyone had heard what he said. Did Rebecca know? Drew and Rebecca's husband were still friends. Did she know what Drew had done? That Chase hadn't wanted her then?
And she had been so pathetic. Eating him with her eyes just as Drew had charged. Fascinated with his dark, tanned good looks, his tall, hard body, the sensual, wicked knowledge in his eyes each time he looked at her.
He had been so far out of her league she had never even attempted to gain his attention. He was one of those men women worshipped from afar because they knew they could never hope to hold him.
She moved into the kitchen, dampened a dish towel, and laid it against her face. She didn't want to cry. She had shed enough tears two years ago to float a small city. She couldn't afford to do so again.
But it hurt. It hurt to know that Drew had even asked him. The rejection only made the sting deeper, made the cut more jagged.
She wiped the tears from her face, and flinched as the doorbell sounded. More packages, no doubt. There were a few more expected.