Chasing the Dream: Dream Series, Book 3 (25 page)

“Sorry, but I’m a little pissed off at someone right now,” I said shooting a look at Chase, who had the decency to look guilty.

“Do you have a history of fainting?”

“No,” I sighed.

“Are you pregnant?”

“What are you insinuating?” I shot at the poor medic, panic washing over me. Was I pregnant? No. No, I couldn’t be.

“Just routine questions, Miss,” he shrugged. “What have you had to eat today?”

I sighed wishing this embarrassing moment would just be over. “Admittedly, I had a crappy lunch. Just a few chocolate chip cookies.”

“And for breakfast?” he pressed.

I groaned sheepishly. “A slice of chocolate cake?” The paramedic looked at me with a look that said,
Are you kidding?
“Look, I’m PMSing, okay?” That was certainly believable with my day’s diet. Of course! Just PMSing big time! “Any more embarrassing questions?” I asked, praying that he was finished.

Chase stepped forward. “Look, I was an ass to Phoebe today… and Friday. I made a colossal mistake with this amazing woman. I should have spoken from my heart, but I didn’t trust my heart to say the right things.” That last comment changed the energy in the entire space. My body started to vibrate and my head grew a little dizzy again. He licked his lips and his eyes searched my face, hope and shame plainly evident on his. “And clearly she needs a good meal. I’ll make sure I fix things with her,” he said to Erika, then turned to the paramedic, “And I’ll make sure she’s properly fed.”

The paramedic jotted down a few notes on his clipboard and had me sign off on his evaluation. He left the crowded little room leaving Erika, Chase, and me.

Erika looked over at Chase and me. “You two okay?” she asked.

“Erika, I just need a few minutes with Phoebe. Okay? I promise. I’ll be on my best behavior.”

She looked at me, making sure I was okay with Chase’s request. I sighed and rolled my eyes. “Fine,” I conceded.

Erika left quietly leaving just Chase and me. As small as the space felt when it was full of people: the paramedic, Erika, Chase and me, it felt much smaller now that it was just the two of us. It wasn’t Chase’s confidence filling the space this time. It was his shame, and my anger.

“You don’t get to talk your way out of this Chase,” I started. “I can’t believe you would use lines from a
show
to seduce me. I will
never
believe another word you say.”

“Phoebe,” he whispered, squatting low in front of me and taking my hands in his. His touch had me so confused. It made me want him so fiercely, yet I was mad at him—and rightly so.

“Excuse me, I’m going to the ladies,” I said getting up and stomping across the room to a door I hoped was a bathroom. Once inside I silently prayed that my period had finally arrived. As I thought about the past twenty minutes I was totally convinced that I was pre-menstrual. Chocolate for breakfast and lunch—Check. Wild mood swings, and highly emotional—check. All that was missing was last piece to the puzzle. “The Painters”. Unfortunately, I received another disappointment that I was still coming up dry.

As I sat in the tiny trailer bathroom and looked at all of Chase’s personal things: his soap, his toothbrush, a bathrobe, I got thoroughly pissed at myself for falling for him. I knew going in that I was going to get hurt. I’d made a pact with myself to not even get involved with
anyone
, let alone someone I worked with or for, but somehow rationalized the one-night stand with Chase. How stupid could I have been?

I washed up and put my thoughts in order. I had a job. I was going to finish my job. Chase was leaving on Friday and I would be back to working in the office with Valerie. I never should have let myself get swept into his game. He was a jerk, a player. I was the object of his game. I had no doubt that he’d been busted, now he was going to be a weasel to save face, to hell with my feelings.

When I returned to the small living space of the trailer, Chase was standing by the dining table with the dinner I had ordered for him all served up. Originally, I’d ordered a crappy sub sandwich from a chain “restaurant” but after our incredible trailer fuck, I’d gotten nostalgic and ordered one of his favorite dinners: Filet mignon, medium, with onion rings and a side of vegetables.

“Delivery from Ed Scott’s,” he said, half smirking “Come. Sit. You need to eat this. I promised that I’d get you fed properly.”

“I ordered that for you.” I said, totally pissed at myself. I just shrugged back.

“I appreciate that, but you need it more than me. It’s not up for negotiation.”

The steak smelled heavenly, and I realized how truly hungry I was. Even though medium wasn’t my fancy, nor were onion rings, I went and sat at the table where Chase stood offering me a chair. I took the seat and Chase hopped over to his small fridge and pulled out a bottle of ice cold water and offered it to me. “It’s not Diet Coke, but water is probably better for you right now than that other stuff.”

Stunned that he remembered that I like Diet Coke, I simply said, “It’s fine. Thank you.” He smiled, twisted off the cap, and handed me the water.

I started to eat, as Chase sat across from me, looking on. The steak was delicious, as always, even if it was cooked more than I preferred. And I had to admit, the onion rings tasted fantastic. I offered Chase half, but he refused.

As I was about half done, Chase asked, “Was I right about the onion rings?”

I nodded and finished my bite. “Thank you for giving me your dinner, and it was delicious, but this doesn’t let you off the hook. You’re still a jerk. Friday you go back to L.A. and you won’t have to think about me ever again. I’ll finish this week because—”

“You think I’ll never think of you again?” he interrupted. “You’re
all
I think about,” he said. I simply stared at him not believing a word.
Never again,
I told myself. But the look on his face was dead serious. “Those ‘lines’ from the scene, when I said them to you, weren’t just lines. They took on a whole new meaning. I suck at love scenes. It’s the thing critics bash about me the most. But reading those lines, and delivering them to you, allowed me to tap into true emotion. Something totally new and—”

Suddenly, Chase’s phone rang in his pocket. I wouldn’t have thought much about it, but his face went white as a ghost when he heard the ring tone. “Hold that thought,” he told me, then took the call and walked to the other side of the trailer, five feet away, like that was any more private.

“Yeah, Brock. How is she?” he answered, clearly knowing who was calling and for what. After a moment he continued, “I’m coming down tonight, I’ll be there in the morning…I don’t really care what she said. I want to be there. Would you get one of my cars to the airport?…I don’t care, any one…Sure, sounds good. I’m calling Michael now… I know, thanks man. See you tomorrow.” And he ended the call, and took a heavy sigh. I watched as he ran his hand through his hair and gripped tightly. Next he crouched down into a ball and took a few deep breaths. Chase had talked to the same guy, Brock, last week when he got all quiet and weird.

I wanted to ask Chase what was going on, but he was already dialing another number. “Hi Mike. Listen. I gotta get to Georgia… Tonight… Yeah…Thanks. Can you book two tickets for me?… Phoebe Fairchild… Right…Just a few days. I just have to see her. I know you understand…And production? … That’d be great. Thanks.” He ended the second call and stuck his phone in his pocket.

I wanted to ask him what the hell was going on, but I couldn’t find the words.

“We’re going to Georgia. Tonight. When you’re done with dinner, take the car and go pack a bag. I’ll get a cab to the hotel, and the driver will come and get me then we’ll fly out,” he finally said in a rush.

“Fuck you, Chase. I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“I need to go to Georgia, and I’m going to need a friend. And right now, you’re the closest thing I’ve got. Finish eating, and go pack. Pack light. Carry-on luggage only. A backpack would be best. I can take you clothes shopping there. I’ll leave word with the Town Car.” With that, Chase left the trailer and I was left in some alternate universe.

Suddenly my phone started vibrating in my pocket. The caller ID showed that it was Valerie. On the one hand I was surprised that she was calling me. Then I got nervous. Had word gotten back to her that Chase and I had….?

I answered the call quickly. “Hi, Ms. Cocozza.”

“Phoebe. Chase’s manager just called me. There’s been an emergency in Chase’s family. He needs to go home to Georgia. I would be very grateful if you went with him. I think you’re good for him and this is going to be a tough trip.”

What the…?
Surely she wasn’t saying I should be going to Georgia with this fucking asshole.

“I—I—I guess,” I stuttered. “What’s going on?” I asked her, my head spinning. Surely this wasn’t the norm. Of course nothing about my being assigned as Chase’s PA was normal. Normally studios didn’t hire a personal assistant like
this.
A true personal assistant was hired by the celebrity and they would be doing these types of
personal
trips. I was a studio babysitter, like Chase had called me last week. A studio sitter he decided to fuck around with.

“It’s his mother,” Valerie said. “I’m sure Chase will fill you in. I am actually …out… on a date… and just stepped out to take his manager’s call, and now I’m calling you.”

“Okay, but—”

“Fabulous!” she said, not letting me finish. “Call me when you get to Georgia and let me know how long you think you may be. I’ll get everything covered on this end. And, Phoebe?”

“Yeah?”

“Keep him out of trouble,” she warned.

And with that, the line was silent.

T
he Delta Airlines flight, a 9:27 pm flight, touched down in Atlanta, Georgia just before midnight that Monday night. I didn’t finish eating my dinner after the announcement that I would be accompanying Chase on this sudden trip. In a haze of
what-the-fuck?
I went to my apartment, packed a small bag as ordered, and met Chase at his hotel around seven-thirty. The entire ride to the airport, waiting for our flight, and on the plane, Chase said only a few polite words to me. No chatting, no schmoozing, no seducing.

He
did
hold my hand, non-stop. I don’t know why I let him, I just did. Something about his nearly shut down demeanor. To be fair, on the plane Chase didn’t say much, but that may have been because I fell asleep promptly after takeoff. But his silence had me concerned, and took the edge off of my anger at him. He seemed worried and lost.

Once we deplaned and were headed down toward the exit, Chase checked his text messages and said, “My car is parked in the North lot.” He looked up at the signs and pulled me toward one of the two hallways. “This way,” and dragged me along determinedly down the harshly lit corridor. I couldn’t stand the silence anymore.

“Chase, what are we doing here? What is going on?”

Without slowing or looking at me, he sighed heavily. “It’s my mom. She’s sick.”

“Oh,” I said, trying to keep up with him. “I’m sorry.”

His walk slowed to a stop and turned to me. “She has cancer. Breast cancer. Stage Three. She started chemo two months ago, and…” His voice cracked, his forehead wrinkled up, and his eyes watered.

“Shhh,” I said, pulling him to me and slipping my arms around him. His arms wrapped around me tightly. He felt tense. “She’s getting help, right? We’re going to see her now.” I did my best to soothe him. But I had no idea how to do that right.

“Her brother, my Uncle Brock, he’s been staying with her and keeping me updated. This round of chemo has been especially brutal. Mom wants me to keep working and being happy, but … but… she’s my mom.
She
makes me happy. I’d give up all the acting gigs from this point onward if it meant she’d be healthy.”

“Oh, hon,” I said. I didn’t know what to say. I was lost. I had no idea his mother was sick, and so sick at that. It certainly hadn’t been a part of the media, or on his clipboard.

“I’m so scared, Phoebe. I’ve lost everyone I’ve ever loved,” he whispered into my neck. It was so quiet that I wasn’t quite sure I heard it right.

Suddenly he pulled back, and wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand and sniffled loudly. “Sorry,” he apologized. “I didn’t mean to lose it on ya.”

“Hey, no apologies necessary.” I took his face in my hands and looked him square in the eye. A tear continued from his eye and ran into my thumb, which I brushed away for him. “I’m here as your friend, remember? Whatever you need.”

We looked at each other for a good long moment, reading one another on a different level. He took a big breath in, and let it out with puffed cheeks, and managed half of a signature smirk. “Thanks. I mean it.” He took one of my hands in his, kissed the back of it softly which sent shivers up and down my spine, and we continued, in silence, to head to the exit.

Fifteen minutes later we were in Chase’s fire engine red Jeep Wrangler with a canvas cover and barreling down I-285 west toward I-20 west. Country music played on the radio, which floored the hell out of me, but I didn’t say anything. I just sat back, enjoyed the tunes, and tried to strengthen myself for what was about to be a rough few days.