She Was Never Just the Billionaire’s Wife (Natasha and Chase) novel Chapter 69

Chapter 69 First

(Natasha)

Sonia leaves in the late afternoon without explanation.

Not to me at any rate. I’m sure she told Chase where she’s going.

Sadly she had no luggage, so I’m assuming she’s coming back.

Eleanor follows twenty minutes later, dressed for an evening out, trailing perfume and a brief instruction to the kitchen about keeping the roast warm.

I go upstairs, feed and bathe Lily, then rock her to sleep before heading down to the lounge.

I think this is the quietest the house has been since the first time I moved in.

I find Chase in the dining room, jacket off, sleeves rolled up, pouring two glasses of wine with a relaxed grin on

his face.

He looks up. “My mother left out a bottle from her private collection.”

“That’s probably meant to be opened when she’s here. She’s going to be furious,” I tell him with a smile and a shake of my head.

“That’s what makes it the right choice. She’s very fond of preaching about learning from one’s mistakes. She’ll be more careful in the future.”

He sets the glasses on the table. “Sit down, Natasha.”

I’m not about to argue with such flawless logic.

We talk about Lily first, because she’s the safest ground for us and we both know it.

Our visit to Dr. Patel hadn’t revealed anything.

He confirmed she had a low-grade fever, and no signs of any kind of rash. That eliminated the majority of childhood illnesses.

Her gums aren’t swollen, so she’s not teething early.

There wasn’t much more he could do.

Running invasive tests would be a last resort. There was nothing that made it seem necessary right now.

His advice had been to keep an eye on her and come back if things get worse.

So far they’ve been pretty much the same.

She’s been brighter today, eating well, though still fussier than usual.

We compare notes with none of the old tension.

Lily doesn’t care about the fractures between us, and she’s the one thing that makes them feel irrelevant.

Then the wine does what wine does, and the conversation starts to drift.

He asks about the Bauer transition and actually listens to my answer.

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This is quite a departure from the Chase of a year ago who asked questions and waited for confirmation that everything was already fine.

“Jeffrey’s tech lead is nervous about the migration timeline,” I tell him. “I think he’s right to be. The second phase is too compressed.”

“Can it be extended?”

“It can if Warren Global agrees to absorb the cost of the delay.”

He looks at me. “Is that what you’d recommend?”

“It’s what I’d recommend if the relationship matters more than the short-term budget.”

He considers it for a moment.

“Then that’s what we’ll do.”

Just like that.

No committee, no lengthy deliberation, no reminder that I turned down the offer to work for him and should keep my nose out of his business.

I top up my wine and try to remember when he started trusting my judgment again.

I can’t pinpoint it exactly.

It happened somewhere in the blur of the last few months, quietly, without announcement.

Around the second glass of wine the careful edges of the conversation soften.

He tells me about a meeting with Elias that went sideways in a way that is, in retrospect, genuinely funny, and I laugh before I can stop myself.

“The customer called your grandfather a crotchety old goat,” I say. “To his face?”

“To his face. While he was holding his walking cane.”

“What did Elias do?”

“Agreed. He said he’s earned it, then told the man to get out of his building and never come back.”

I shake my head, laughing.

“I adore that man.”

“He adores you right back,” Chase says. “He tells me so regularly and at significant volume.”

There’s something in the way he says it that makes it feel like more than a casual remark.

I let it go without probing for more information.

Elias can sometimes be too forthright when it comes to sharing his opinions.

We talk about Liam’s puppet show, which Chase is still quietly delighted by.

I don’t even attempt to hide my surprise at that.

It might be the most human thing I’ve ever heard him say.

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The kitchen sends out the roast, with apologies that it will dry out if they keep it warm any longer.

Took at the clock on the mantel and realize that it’s half past eight already.

Neither of us noticed that we’d been sitting here chatting for two hours.

That’s when the realization hits me.

Not once tonight have I calculated what to say before I said it.

Not once have I checked Chase’s expression to see how a sentence landed.

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