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“Sounds good” He turns his attention to our waiter “Can we get a pitcher of that?”

“No problem,” he answers and walks away

“A pitcher?” I ask

“Sure, why not?” he says, shrugging his shoulders “When in Rome”

The waiter brings back a multi-colored pitcher and places two plastic cups down on the table After pouring our cocktails, he places the pitcher in the center and stands over the table “Have you decided?” I ask Chase

“Not really, what do you feel like?”

“I think I’ the fish tacos”

“Sounds good” He turns to the waiter “She’ll have the fish tacos, and I’ll have the cracked conch” Nodding, he walks away

“Did you have a good time this weekend?” he asks

“Fantastic ti my drink

“I would do this ever

y weekend if you let me”

“No I can’t do this every weekend What I would love is so a led up next to you That’s all I want”

“That can be arranged,” he says, s

Sunday afternoon, we boarded Chase’s private jet and flew back to reality Mondaycame fast and it was back to work I barely had ti to et home until late, and I was exhausted Tuesday, was much of the same I’d spoken to Chase, but we haven’t seen each other since Sunday; this past weekend took a toll on his schedule as well, and he’s had to work late every night