Chasing the Dream: Dream Series, Book 3 (22 page)

“Good news?” Mom said, looping her arm in mine.

“Yeah. My grades. NYU, here I come!” Mom hugged me tightly, perhaps too tightly, but I let her have it. And truthfully, I kinda needed it.

We made our way up to the apartment talking about the class that gave me the biggest challenge last semester: Russian History. Yeah, I don’t know what I was thinking either. I opened the door, we stepped inside, and I relocked the door. I turned to find Mom smiling at me—probably because the door had been locked, and I relocked it… either she was remembering that first night, or Kevin filled her in.

I turned to walk into the apartment and spotted the drug store bag with my purchase on the counter. I had a moment of panic and rushed to grab it. “I’m gonna go potty, make yourself at home,” I called over my shoulder. In the bathroom I buried the pregnancy kit under the sink at the back. “Wednesday,” I told the box. I did some business then joined my mom in the living room. She looked a little sad.

“You okay?” I asked.

“I’m great. Just reminiscing. I loved living here. I really learned a lot about myself.”

“I’m enjoying it, too.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you keep your room at home this tidy,” she started. “Mrs. Hanlon was very impressed with your baking. And Kevin says you’re settling in nicely.” I nodded. I was. Only two weeks living on my own, and yes, I was doing very well for myself. Granted, I didn’t have to pay any bills. I was very lucky that my parents were taking care of that for me.

“Kevin’s got his eye on someone, you know,” I said.

“Yeah, I know.” Mom smiled big. “So,” she started with a sigh, “now that there aren’t prying ears at neighboring tables… Mind if I press?”

I knew what was coming. I flopped into the big comfy chair and rested my head on my hand, my elbow propped on the armrest.

“What would you like to talk about? The ‘tummy troubles’ or the ‘man mess’?” she offered.

“Do we have to talk about them at all?”

She just looked at me calmly, then stood and walked over to the chair, and squatted at my feet. She waited patiently, like a shrink in the TV shows—just waiting for the patient to open up. I wasn’t ready to talk to anyone about either problem, least of all my mother. Hell, I wasn’t even really willing to talk to myself about one of them. I’d talked to the box, but that was it.

“Whatever the situation, I’m here for you,” she started. “Denial won’t get you anywhere but deeper into the problem. Trust me, I know.”

“Seriously, Mom. I’m fine. So, yes, I’m attracted to Chase, but please! He’s not into me. I’m a nobody.” She wanted something to talk about? I’d give her something. Then maybe she’d go away.

She rubbed my knee and my eye caught sight of the infinity ring she was wearing on her right hand. I picked up her hand and fingered the sparkly piece.

“A gift from Jack,” she sighed while her face broke out into a radiant smile. She sounded positively in love. My heart ached.

“Were things really so bad with Dad? I mean… you went back to him. You must have loved him enough to give him a second chance. What happened? Why did you come back to New York for Jack? Is he really that much better than Dad? I mean other than the good looks and money,” I laughed awkwardly.

She chuckled but grew quiet for a moment, regarding me carefully. “Deep down, your dad is a good man. I
do
love him. He gave me you and your brothers. I’m just not in love with him and I don’t think he was in love with me. And he didn’t know how to show me that he loved me or
wanted
me. Something was missing. We were a ‘routine.’ Does that make sense?” I nodded. Boy, I sure did know what it felt like to not feel wanted. Danny and his cheating on me during my whole freshman year totally made me feel unwanted. Chase couldn’t have made me feel any less wanted yesterday morning with his ‘pay off’ for cab fare. Remembering how Mom and Jack were…on the sofa, not the desk…they looked positively in love. I traced the infinity symbol of the ring on my mom’s hand. “I did give him a second chance. Everyone deserves a second chance, and I’m happy I gave it to him. It showed me that my decision was a good one. It gave me closure.”

“And Jack?”

“Oh, baby.” She took a deep breath in, and let it out shakily. “He makes my knees weak, and my heart beat. He’s the first thought on my mind when I wake up and the last thing I think about when I’m falling asleep. He makes me feel safe, and loved, and wanted.” She nearly glowed while talking about him. “My only regret is that it took so long for us to find each other. Three great things came from being with your father, though.”

She stood and pulled me into a hug. “We’ll talk when you’re ready. I’m here for you. No matter what, okay?”

My eyes welled again, and I hugged her back as tightly as she hugged me.

That afternoon, I couldn’t stay in the apartment. I felt like my head was going to burst. Instead, I decided to explore the city some more. I got on the subway, the Six train, and headed downtown.
Way
downtown. I went to Greenwich Village and enjoyed the cute shops. I felt a little like Serena Vander Woodsen from my favorite show
Gossip Girl.
I worked my way northward and came upon Union Square around three, and spotted on the AMC Theaters marquee that it was opening weekend for
The Great Gatsby
. I’d read the book in high school and thought, why not. Two and half hours later, I made my way home, stopping at the grocery store to pick up things to make Baked Ziti for Kevin.

I texted Kevin a time for dinner and he confirmed. An hour and half later, Kevin knocked on my door and I ushered him in to eat. As we sat and ate, chatting about the approaching end of the school year for him, I found that I was no longer crushing on him. Sure, he was still sinfully handsome, and outrageously courteous, but when I looked into his green eyes, I found myself missing Chase’s violet-blues. And Kevin’s dark hair suddenly didn’t look as amazing at Chase’s blonde locks.

Get over it, Phoebs!

Kevin did dig for clues that Chase and I were more than just me as Chase’s PA, but I didn’t give anything up. I mean, really after the way he treated me yesterday, there really wasn’t anything between us anyway.

In turn, I dug around for more info on the girl that he was referring to when we’d gone out for Mexican a week or so ago. “So, did you ask that girl out yet?”

He blushed. He actually blushed. It was cute. “Yeah, I asked her to dinner and she accepted…” he said.

“Aaaaannndd?” I pressed.

“Aaanndd, you were right. We’re going next Monday night, but I have no idea where to take her. Any suggestions for a good first date?”

Instantly I thought about Ed Scott’s. That was, more or less, my first date with Chase. “What about the steak place Mom worked at? Ed Scott’s?”

He laughed and shook his head. “I think that might be a little strange for her.” When he noted my confused expression, he said, “She works there.”

“Huh?”

“Yeah, it’s Shelby. The bartender.”

Huh. Shelby. She seemed a bit old for him. She was practically my mother’s age. Instead of remarking on that, I just replied, “Well, she seems like a great lady. I know my mom and her got along really well.”

After running through a few more ideas, I suggested that maybe they just meander and find a little unknown place. Make it an adventure. There was so much to discover in the Big Apple. He seemed to really like that idea, and then we called it a night. It was rather nice being Kevin’s friend. He was a good man.

Sunday, I woke up cranky and stressed, so I did what I always did when I felt that way. I got my Betty Crocker on. I made chocolate chip cookies, biscotti, an apple pie and a chocolate cake, and did my best to forget that Chase was coming back into town today.

By seven-thirty at night, I was dizzy probably due to the sugar buzz from sampling. I took a few biscotti to Mrs. Hanlon earlier in the afternoon, and a nice wedge of apple pie to Kevin, but I kept the chocolate chip cookies and chocolate cake for myself. As I licked my finger from the mocha chocolate frosting I mused how good it tasted. Definitely PMS.

I went to bed early, around nine. I was going to need my wits about me tomorrow. I had to collect Chase at ten in the morning from the airport then over to another location shoot.

I
sat in the back of the limo while the driver went into the airport to collect Chase. I checked my reflection in the mirror and smoothed my hair, which was pulled into a ponytail. All morning I debated with this. Hair up or down. If it was up, he’d think I’d listened to him and put it up so that he would be the only one to see it down. If I had it down, he would think I styled it down for him. It was a no-win situation. I tightened the ponytail and checked my outfit over. A turquoise shirt and chocolate brown skinny jeans, which were a bit tight—probably from all the baking this weekend… right?—and tucked into my favorite brown boots. The upper edge was a scalloped turquoise edge, and they were lined with turquoise fabric. Even the intricate feather design was done with a shiny turquoise thread. I didn’t look anything like a Good & Plenty candy.

I munched on a chocolate chip cookie as I looked over his schedule. Today, Monday, was more scene work on location. Tomorrow he had morning shows, first
Good Morning America,
then
Live! with Kelly and Michael
, followed by sound studio work. My eyes fell out of my head when I noticed the start time for that day was going to be five o’clock in the morning. I was already exhausted.

Suddenly, I heard screams outside of the car and turned to look. Of course. Chase had just exited the airport and was mobbed by girls with the driver, playing bodyguard. Of course looking the way he did,
I
wanted to squeal at him. He was looking very ‘James Dean’ today with his hair done in the old James Dean pompadour style, a denim jacket and white tee-shirt, a pair of shades hiding those incredible eyes. He flashed his smile everywhere, let the girls take selfies with him, and signed magazines left and right. He was laughing and having a great time when the driver opened the door for him and he ducked inside to the disappointed groans of the crowd. He slouched into his seat and let the laughter die, his customary persona taking up all the available cubic inch in the small space.

“Hey,” he said casually. “Did you have a good weekend?” he asked not taking off his glasses, as the car pulled out into traffic.

“Yeah, sure. Not as much fun as yours, but it was good.”

He sniffed the air, oblivious to my snide remark. “Do you smell that?”

Expecting some sexist remark, I rolled my eyes and went along with his ego trip. “Smell what?”

“Chocolate chip cookies. Do you smell it?”

Uhh, yeah, I smell ’em.
I had just eaten the last one. “Yup,” I simply said. “The producers have messaged wondering if you have your lines set for today.”
Good. Keep it professional, Phoebe.

“Got ’em,” he said tapping his head. He reached out and dragged his finger on the corner of my mouth. “And
you
were the one with the chocolate chip cookies. My gig as a detective on
Cops Undercover
is paying off,” he said showing me the chocolate he just wiped from my lip, then sucked it loudly it off of his finger with a big grin.

His finger on my lips, and watching his lips on said finger sent me right back up into his room. After he fingered me to the most intense, non-intercourse orgasm of my life. I was quickly losing the battle with myself to stay professional. I was wet between my thighs and my heart was pounding on my ribcage so forcefully I wouldn’t have been surprised if it broke free and landed in my lap. Mustering every bit of strength I had left in me, I continued with my
professional
behavior. “I’ve gone ahead and ordered your dinner to be delivered to the set. I’ll just grab whatever is set out for the crew.”

“Oh. I was looking forward to dinner with you…
away
from the set. I really wanted to talk with you.”

Yeah, right. “Here’s fifty bucks for a cab ride home, now get out of here.”

“No worries. You got what you wanted. I got what I wanted. Moving on. I’m your PA, responsible for getting you on set and fed and other things you might need. I’m glad you had a fun weekend, but you have work to do. And so do I.”

He sat behind his sunglasses staring at me, and I stared back. I could feel his eyes—glasses be damned. How desperately I wanted to see his violet-blue eyes, but at the same time I was relieved that he was shielding them from me. I would cave to whatever he asked for if he revealed them. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“Um-hmm,” I said, burying my nose in the clipboard of papers.
Don’t you dare give him an inch, Phoebe.
Suddenly the clipboard was pulled from my lap and hands and dropped to the floor. Chase took hold of my hands and pulled me so that I was facing him. I looked up to see he’d pulled off his sunglasses, and I was now pinned and lost in those fantastic eyes.

“I was an ass on Friday morning,” he said, his voice low and hoarse.