Chasing Romance (Welcome To Romance)

by Liwen Y. Ho

  For a moment, he felt like a teenager on his first date, tongue-tied and unsure, which was the farthest thing from the truth. At twenty-five, he was a grown man, not to mention a pop star. And pop stars were confident, creative, and in control ... or at least they were supposed to be.

  Lately, he wasn’t so sure he fit his new role. Uploading videos of himself covering hit songs had been something he’d done on a whim. He never imagined he’d amass over a million subscribers his first year or sign a record deal the year after. Fame and fortune had fallen into his lap like a hundred Christmas mornings rolled into one, and though he was grateful, he’d never been under so much pressure. Pressure from his manager to get another album out. And pressure from himself to not disappoint his fans. It was all weighing down on him. He couldn’t write a single verse, much less an entire song. He’d been trying for the past month, but trying wasn’t cutting it anymore.

  “That was a joke.”

  His ears picked up on the concern in Izzy’s voice. “Oh, yeah, I knew that,” he assured her. “I guess the blood hasn’t reached my funny bone yet. The circulation takes a little longer for us giants.”

  She chuckled. “Don’t worry. It seems to be working now.”

  At least he hadn’t lost his sense of humor. “I’m glad you think so.”

  The light turned green, and Izzy faced forward. She drove for a minute in silence before asking, “So, um, what brings you to town? Are you here for the Fall Festival?”

  “No, not for the festival. I’m actually here to look for someone.” Now that he was saying the words out loud, he had no idea how he was going to locate an anonymous person. The only thing he had to go on was a pen name. “You wouldn’t happen to know a Grace Bella, would you?”

  The car screeched to a stop, nearly hitting the bumper of the van ahead of them. Izzy yelped and threw her right arm in front of Chase, shielding his upper body. “Sorry, I didn’t see the stop sign. Are you okay?”

  Half of him wanted to laugh at the idea that such a petite woman thought she could protect him. The other half, however, was enjoying the feel of her skin on his. The fingers that gripped his bicep were surprisingly strong and callused, but oh-so warm. Traces of a floral perfume filled his senses, making him aware of how close she was. He covered her hand with his and gave it a light squeeze. “I’m fine, thanks. I’m so tightly packed in here, there’s no chance of my head hitting the dashboard even if I tried.”

  She pulled away as if she’d been burned. There was no fire, but something was making her cheeks flush. She cleared her throat and murmured, “That’s good.”

  He grinned. So, he wasn’t the only one experiencing sparks. “You’ve got quite a reflex there. Reminds me of my mom. She used to do that to me and my brother when we were small.”

  “Uh, yeah, it’s a mom thing, I guess,” she murmured as she stepped on the gas.

  “So, I was asking if you know anyone by the name of Grace Bella?”

  “Come again?”

  “Grace Bella. At least that’s what she goes by as a songwriter. I don’t know much about her, except that she lives here in Romance and she wrote a song that’s currently number ten on the Billboard chart.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “It’s called ‘The Best Thing’. Have you heard of it?”

  A few seconds passed as Izzy seemed to ponder his question. She chewed on her lower lip and snuck a look at him. “I think so.”

  “The chorus goes, It’s not lost on me that without the gray there wouldn’t be the blue. The love in your eyes keeps pulling me through. And no matter how dark the nights were that brought you here. The best thing to happen to me—”

  “Was you, my dear,” she finished for him.

  He straightened in his seat, as much as the tight space allowed. Izzy must be a fan to know the lyrics by heart. Perhaps she knew the songwriter, too. It was a small town, after all. “You know the song.”

  “It's on the radio a lot,” she nodded, “sometimes playing on two stations at once, which is kinda insane.”

  Drawing his brows together, he asked, “Why is that?”

  “We only have a handful of stations in the area that play Top 40 songs. To have two playing the same song at the same time says to me you’ve made it.”

  He assumed her comment was a general one and not directed at him. He could be wrong, but it didn’t seem like she recognized him as a singer. The sunglasses probably helped, as well as not revealing his last name. Now that privacy was a rare commodity in his life, he preferred to keep a low profile when possible.

  “So, uh, why are you looking for her?” Izzy continued. “Does it have something to do with the song she wrote?”

  “For sure. It changed my life.”

  She eyed him with a skeptical smile. “Changed your life? Isn’t that taking it a bit far? It’s just a song.”

  “It’s so much more than that. It’s the beauty and power in the song. The notes come together to create the perfect melody. Then there are the lyrics—they’re from someplace raw and real. The first time I heard the chorus, it touched me in a way I couldn’t explain. I get emotional whenever I hear it.” Afraid he’d said too much already, Chase shrugged nonchalantly. “I was just hoping to tell her these things in person. I wanted to thank her for writing the song. I also have a favor to ask of her.”

  “You came all the way here to thank her? You could’ve sent her a card or flowers. Maybe even chocolate. I’m sure she’d love chocolate—I mean, who doesn’t love chocolate?”

  “Those are all great ideas.” Although such gifts would never be able to express the fullness of his gratitude. How did you thank someone who changed your life? “If I ever get her address, I’ll be sure to do that and more.”

  “That’s right.” She wrinkled her nose in chagrin. “You don’t know where she is, other than the fact that she lives in this town.”

  “I guess it was foolish of me to think I could find someone based on a name. I don’t even know what she looks like or how old she is.”

  “Hm. You really don’t have much to go on.”

  Chase sighed. He gazed out the window as they drove through the downtown district. They passed a fountain in what appeared to be the town square and many businesses that reminded him of home, including a cafe and a movie theater. The rolling hills in the distance, however, were a new sight to him, as well as the clear, unpolluted sky. If only he could get some clarity about this songwriter. Who else could he ask—wait, of course! “Would your neighbor be able to help me? You said she knows everything about everyone.”

  “Mrs. Cooper?” Izzy balked. “I doubt it. She only listens to the Oldies and calls everything else noise.”

  “Well, I guess I could walk around town and talk to the store owners. Someone’s bound to have heard of her.”

  Izzy made an indiscernible sound as if she didn’t know what else to say.

  They drove out of the downtown area and approached a residential neighborhood. Quaint houses lined the street where a school bus was parked, dropping off children after school. Bright red, orange and gold leaves decked the trees on both sides of the road.

  Chase marveled at the scene before him. He’d always felt cheated out of the fall season where he lived. The best Southern California offered were steel buildings and smog, not the vibrant foliage of the Pacific Northwest. To be in such a beautiful place as Romance woke something up inside him. The first words of a chorus ran through his mind and his fingers itched to strum the accompanying chords on his guitar.

  He took his cell phone from his jacket pocket and opened the notes app. Before his inspiration disappeared, he typed in some words and saved the file. It was a small step to writing a full song, but it was still a step. A big grin overtook his face. Perhaps his dry spell was finally over.

  Chase sensed Izzy’s eyes on him. He looked up and realized the car had stopped. “Are we here?”

  “This is it. Your home away from home.”

  They were parked in fr
ont of a blue two-story house, the vibrant shade matching the cloudless sky above it. It was the only one of its color on the block. A newly-painted white fence surrounded the home and a small front yard. At one end of the lawn stood a large maple tree, its leaves bold and colorful. A sign that read Interlude Inn hung from a wooden post on the porch.

  “Wow,” he breathed in awe. “This place is like a haven, a musical one. It’s perfect.”

  It really was. Especially the treble clef that had been transformed into the letter I in the word Interlude. This Bed and Breakfast was the resting stop he needed to finish his next album.

  Izzy smiled. “A musical haven. I like that. Would you mind if I put it in the inn’s brochure?”

  “Be my guest.” He opened the car door, ready to step out when Izzy stopped him with a question.

  “Hey, Chase?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I hope you don’t mind me asking. What was the favor you wanted to ask Grace Bella for, assuming you find her?”

  Funny she brought that up. Because all the plans he’d had to locate the illusive songwriter disappeared. He had other priorities now. He turned to Izzy with a firm shake of his head. “Actually, I’m good. I don’t need her anymore.”

  3

  Izzy

  What a relief, Izzy mumbled under her breath.

  For some reason, Chase had changed his mind yesterday. He wasn’t looking for her anymore. Which meant she had more time to produce some quality songs. If only she had some real-life inspiration to go on. How could she write songs about romance when she had never experienced it herself?

  Contrary to what Mrs. Cooper and her friends thought, she had dated a handful of men over the years, but they had all confirmed one fact: She didn’t need anyone, other than Gracie of course. And now with her daughter away at college, music was her priority. She would just have to find inspiration vicariously through books or movies … but certainly not with the handsome guy upstairs.

  With determination running through her veins, she vowed to keep her focus and began her morning duties. She first delivered breakfast to Dori, the guest from New York, who’d been laid up in the downstairs bedroom with a broken leg. After making sure she was taken care of, she picked up the meal she’d prepared for Chase.

  Her boots clicked against the wooden floorboards as she climbed the stairs. The rhythmic beat soon became an accompaniment for the muted sounds of a guitar playing on the second floor. Balancing the wooden tray on her left hip, she knocked on the first door and called out, “Good morning. Your breakfast is ready.”

  The strumming from inside the bedroom stopped, and a shirtless man in jeans popped his head out. “Good morning. Thank you so much for this. It smells amazing.”

  If she thought nothing compared to the mouth-watering smell of fresh bread, she was wrong. Something equally amazing held her attention. Izzy had a hard time keeping her eyes from drifting to Chase’s bare chest. She hadn’t seen a chiseled body like his up close and personal in a long time, and she certainly didn’t mind the view. But it was the tattoo near his right shoulder that took her breath away.

  Noticing her stare, Chase pointed to the inked image of a guitar with the words The Best Thing under it. “You like it?”

  Izzy nodded, pausing to find her words. He wasn’t kidding when he said her song had touched him. “It’s beautiful.”

  “Thanks. I like seeing it when I look in the mirror. Makes me appreciate everything I have.”

  She felt the weight of the tray leave her hands as Chase took it from her. “Right, your breakfast. If you want seconds of anything, let me know.”

  “I will, thank you. I haven’t had a homemade meal in a long time. This is a treat for me.”

  Izzy found herself staring again. This was the first time Chase didn’t have sunglasses on, and she could see up close that his blue eyes resembled the sea. This morning they also had dark circles under them. “It looks like you need some coffee. Or would you prefer juice?”

  “Coffee, please. I was up most of the night.” He stepped back to place the tray on his bed, next to a guitar and a stack of blank musical sheet paper. “I hope I wasn’t too loud.”

  “No, you were fine. The walls are insulated to keep the noise levels down.” Insulation that I paid for with the money I made as your songwriter, she wanted to say. Instead she kept her thoughts to herself and opted to stay professional. “I’ll go get you that cup of coffee.”

  “I can help myself. It’d be good to walk around and stretch my legs.”

  “Okay. I’ll show you to the kitchen. There’s a dining area you can use if you want to eat downstairs.”

  “Sounds great. Let me throw on a shirt.”

  She led the way for Chase who had his tray in tow. When they reached the dining area, she directed him to one of two circular tables set for two.

  He took a seat, stretching his long legs to the side as he leaned back in his chair. The blue gingham tablecloth looked like an extension of his navy shirt.

  Izzy brought the coffee pot over, along with a mug, and poured him a cup. “Would you like any cream or sugar, Mr. Lockhart?”

  Chase’s eyes widened for a second before he answered. “No thanks, I take my coffee black.”

  “All right then, enjoy your meal. I’ll be washing dishes if you need me.”

  She’d almost reached the kitchen when Chase called out to her. “Izzy? Have you had breakfast yet? I’d love some company.”

  She spun around, ready to decline his offer. “I don’t normally eat with guests.”

  “How about you consider me a friend then? And as my friend, you can’t let me eat alone.”

  He flashed her his TV smile: part innocent, part playful, and completely charming. Izzy's resolve softened like butter on a hot griddle. Her mind wanted to say no; her heart said otherwise. She reasoned he was her guest, so she couldn’t afford to be rude. Although if she were being honest, she didn’t like eating by herself either. “Okay, just for a little while.”

  Minutes later they sat together in silence as they chewed their food. Chase quickly polished off his first helping of breakfast and was working on his second when he broke the ice.

  “I didn’t mean to be rude. I was hungrier than I realized. I'm more awake now with some food in my system.”

  “It’s all right. I figured you were enjoying your meal.” Izzy sipped her orange juice, suddenly feeling self-conscious with Chase’s eyes on her. “Um, did you sleep well? I know it takes me a few days to adjust to a new place.”

  “It was fine. I’m used to sleeping in hotels. My work keeps me on the road a lot.”

  Nodding, Izzy took a bite of her bread to keep her mouth busy. Never in a million years did she imagine she’d be eating with Chase Lockhart. The singer who imbued her song with a vulnerability and passion that moved her to tears. She felt a bit star struck, as well as inadequate. She had no idea what to talk about. Her life seemed so unglamorous and boring compared to his.

  “So, how long have you had this inn?”

  She quickly swallowed. “About three months now, but I’ve been wanting to open one for as long as I can remember. My parents took me on a road trip to California when I was small and we stayed at a Bed and Breakfast in Napa. It was so charming and comfortable. That’s what I want to offer my guests here.”

  “And you do,” Chase affirmed. “Nothing says comfort more than bacon. This breakfast is the best I’ve had in a long time.”

  His compliment heated her cheeks. “I’m glad you like it.”

  “I really like the musical aspect of this place. The name and the decor—it’s all very cool, especially the piano rug in my room. I take it you’re a big music fan?”

  She smiled, remembering how much fun she’d had decorating the bedrooms and common areas. It was a bonus that a professional artist appreciated her efforts. “My dad played in a band when he was young. I grew up listening to everything from jazz to rock to classical. Adding the musical touches was my way of k
eeping him around. He passed away when I was in high school.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. I’m sure he would’ve been proud of you.”

  “Thanks. I’d like to think so.” Izzy rushed on to change the topic. She wasn’t used to sharing so much, especially not with a stranger. “So, do you have any plans for today?”

  “Not really, besides catching up on sleep. How about you?”

  “I’ll be going to the festival later. You should check it out. It’s Romance’s big event of the year. There’ll be booths for face painting and pumpkin decorating and all kinds of food. And hay rides, too.” She grinned at Chase’s amused expression. “It’s not as hokey as it sounds—or maybe it is. I’ve lived here all my life so I wouldn’t know any different. You city folks probably have a lot more exciting things to do.”

  Chase narrowed his eyes. "Is it obvious I'm from the city?”

  “I assume most people who pass through here are. And the fact that your eyes glazed over when I mentioned hay rides kind of gave it away.”

  A good-natured smile appeared on his face. “So, it is obvious.” Pausing for a beat, he added, “I was actually wondering if you knew more about me than you let on.”

  “Hm? What do you mean?”

  “I never told you my last name, but you called me by it earlier. You know who I am, don’t you?”

  Izzy faltered in her response. Would affirming his identity give away her own? “I did recognize you when we met. Was there a reason you didn’t tell me you’re America's newest pop sensation?”

  “I wasn’t purposely hiding that about myself; I just didn’t want to go around advertising it. As great as it is to be a household name, sometimes it’s nice to be anonymous.”

  She agreed completely. The reason she hadn’t told anyone about her songwriting career was to prevent others from gossiping about her even more. “I can understand your need for privacy.”