by Frances, Jo
"So, when we go outside, I'm sure the paparazzi will still be out there. Do you walk out together, separately? I'm not sure how to do this."
Sean nodded confidently: this he knew how to do. "I want to walk out with you. But are you sure you want to walk out with me?"
"Yeah---why wouldn't I?"
Sean didn't answer. "OK, you should just walk in front of me and head straight for the car. Keep your face relaxed. They're going to take your picture anyway, so it may as well be a good one." He took a final sip of his drink; his third. "But I have to warn you, it will probably be rough."
They waited just inside the restaurant until their car pulled up, which unfortunately gave the paparazzi enough time to position themselves between the door and the sidewalk.
Jamie looked out at the gauntlet of photographers waiting for them, with a spotlight pointed right at them...and froze. She heard Sean say, "go" but she couldn't move until he grabbed her hand and began pulling her towards the car. Amidst cries of "Sean! Hey Sean, over here!" she also heard, "hey Jamie, does Chase know you're cheating on him?" Jamie slid into the car, hoping she wasn't giving anyone a crotch shot. Sean followed behind her, slamming the car door a millimeter away from a camera. As the driver sped off, Jamie looked back in wonder at the strobe lights still going off behind them.
"That was crazy!" she said. "Is it always like that?"
"No, it's not. I mean, they aren't there only for me; they're just there to take pictures of whoever is coming out of the restaurant."
"Then why do you go? Jamie asked. "I mean, wouldn't it be easier to go someplace quiet?"
Sean slouched into the seat. "There really isn't anyplace quiet for me. If I go to some little local place, I'd get mobbed within five minutes of being there. People would literally have their cameras in my face, and I'd have to leave. But If I go to a celebrity place, I know that no one will bother me for an autograph. I figure it's worth thirty seconds of hassle to have two hours of peace." He looked out of the window. "Uh-oh." A motorcycle was following them.
"What's that?"
"Someone is following us. Probably wants to see if I'm going to take you back to the hotel." He drew closer to her. "This is probably the last time I can do this," he said, and kissed her.
Jamie didn't pull away at first. She allowed herself to get drawn into the moment of touching and feeling someone so different from Chase. Sean's touch was gentle and subtle, communicating everything he felt in a slow, lingering kiss.
Sean cupped her face in his hand. "I know I have to give you time. But we're leaving to play in Las Vegas in a few days, and after that we're headed back to Ireland. I'd like to spend everyday with you until then."
"Wow. We just met, you know."
"I've been jacking off to your picture for months."
"OK, that's really crude." She moved to the other side of the car.
Sean followed her. "No it's not. It's me being honest, which you aren't going to get a lot of in this town. I don't have time to play games. After I leave, I can give you all the time you need. But as long as I'm in the same city with you, I don't think I'll be able to do it."
Jamie looked into the sapphire blue of his eyes. "So you're telling me that I'll be easy enough to forget when you leave, right?"
"No, but the only way I'm ever going to not want you with me is if I have to work." He kissed her again, as if remembering that their time was limited.
"Sean," she broke away from him. "I'm going to be meeting you in Ireland, remember? In three weeks?"
"I know. So will you spend my time in LA with me?"
Their car was slowing down, giving Jamie a chance to duck the question. She wasn't surprised to see some more paparazzi by the door. Someone must have called ahead, perhaps the guy in the motorcycle because this group was much more informed, throwing questions like:
"Hey Sean, did you know you're going out with Chase Reston's girl?"
"Jamie, can you tell us what happened between you and Chase?"
"Sean, are you afraid Chase is going to kick your ass?"
Stepping inside Hollywood Billiards was a welcome relief. Jamie was shaken up by the questions, but was trying hard not to let it bother her.
Sean racked up the balls like an expert. "What are you thinking about?" he asked.
"Would it sound stupid if I said those people are really mean?"
Sean hit the balls with a resounding thwack. "It gets worse. Trust me." He eyed his next shot.
"So how do you put up with it?"
"You just live your life and not take it personally. They don't really care about you, or me, or anyone they follow, so when they say all this shit, it's not even like they mean it, or it's their opinion. You are just a big dollar sign for them, and if they can get a good shot of you reacting instead of posing---well, that would be worth a lot of money." He stopped in front of her and put his hands on the table, enclosing her. Jamie could feel the length of his body over hers, his erection hard between them. "You know what your problem is?" he whispered into her neck.
"Why don't you tell me," Jamie's breath caught.
"They can see---I can see---everything that you're feeling." He caught her bottom lip with his mouth, flicking his tongue against hers for the briefest of moments.
"That's kind of an insult from someone who just told me he can't be apart from me, isn't it?" she answered, pressing against him. "Maybe you should take your own advice."
Sean collapsed against her. "Ah Jamie, Jamie," he sighed in defeat. "I don't know why I am like this with you."
Jamie could have felt many things, then; a sense of power, maybe, that a man who could have any woman would feel so drawn to her. Instead she just felt a sense of regret that their timing was so off.
"I'm...I feel it, too." she answered truthfully.
"But?"
"But...I still have feelings for someone else."
Sean nodded, understanding. "I live a charmed life, I know this...but in matters of love, I'm cursed. Really, truly, cursed."
Chapter 14
It took a week for tabloid TV to show footage of Jamie and Sean's date, but once it was aired, Chase was one of the first people to find out. It began with a trickle on his Twitter feed, with fans making cryptic references to his newly single status, but on the team bus, no less, another player showed him the footage.
Chase was sickened to see Jamie, looking a little overwhelmed, holding hands with the lead singer for Isle, making their way past the reporters. It was a thirty second video that seemed to last an hour. He saw how great she looked. She was just so damn pretty---and then you moved down to her toned and bronzed legs, shown off to perfection. Legs that used to be wrapped around him...
He put a bored expression on his face and made a dismissive sound. "It's been over for a long time, man," he said to his teammates. "I don't give a fuck what she does."
"Or who!" One of the veterans on the team, Marcus Ketchings said lewdly. Chase wanted to punch him in the face. He was willing to take the punishment from the team, even willing to take the risk of a rookie fighting with a vet. But he knew that this would show his weak spot, and everyone would pounce on that. He would end up having to fight the entire team eventually, if that happened. So he just laughed as loud as everyone else and pretended that what Jamie did, didn't matter.
As it had been most of his life, basketball proved to be a refuge for Chase. He came to practice early, and drove himself at his game as hard as he ever had before. If he pushed his body to the limit, if he concentrated on the ball in his hands, then he wouldn't think about how easily Jamie had left him.
He should have called her. No, he should have gone after her that day in the restaurant. Chase still couldn't understand what it was that caused him to dig down and be so stubborn. The answer to her question was simple enough because it was true--he had no interest in other women, and god knows they were everywhere. Jamie gave him everything he wanted: she was a goddess who made him feel loved and she satisfied him in bed
and out. How could another woman compete with that?
Yet when she began questioning him, something in him just shut down and he pushed her away. Maybe he was just disappointed that Jamie could doubt him, when he never doubted her. Or maybe he knew she would eventually find another way to leave him.
Chase promised himself that he wouldn't look; that it would just make him feel bad, but he had to see who his competition was, and he concluded that Sean Foley was what he would call a chick magnet. He had all the right elements: a sexy accent, a band, pretty boy looks, and a poet's ability to write songs about heartbreak that every idiot girl in his college knew by heart. Apparently, he also had one other thing. Jamie. Chase looked at a shot of them taken through the windows of the Hollywood Billiard club. The photo was dark and blurred, but there was no mistaking the body language between the two of them.
You had to look, didn't you? he told himself. Chase slammed his computer shut and realized that Jamie had moved on.
By the time Chase and the rest of the world had seen the pictures of the two of them together, Sean had left for Las Vegas and Jamie was back in New York. Whether it was their good looks, or because Sean Foley, the notorious womanizer finally looked smitten, there was a sudden interest in the two of them as a couple , and tabloid editors demanded more pictures.
Jamie was glad to be back at work, to escape the turmoil in her life, and found she was in even more demand.
"I am getting so many calls for you." Her agent, Liz Everett, had asked for this meeting. Jamie knew this was a good indicator of how well she was doing. After the NBA draft, she was quickly signed, and always had bookings. But Liz generally kept her attention on the dozen A-list models she represented, models that were on the covers of magazines, and had cosmetic contracts. Everyone else was relegated to junior agents or bookers. So Jamie was a little bit surprised to find herself face-to-face with the agency namesake now.
"You are like catnip to these men, Jamie; how do you do it?" Liz was perched on her desk, swinging a stiletto clad skinny leg back and forth, inches away from Jamie's chair.
"I've had one college boyfriend who was good enough to go to the NBA, and I went on a couple of dates with Sean Foley. I don't really know what the big deal is," she protested weakly. "I mean, I even had a photographer follow me here from my hotel."
Liz, who had a penchant for mini skirts, uncrossed her legs and Jamie had to turn away to avoid learning first hand whether her boss went commando that day. "I think you're going to have to move to New York now. L.A. is fine when you're doing ad campaigns or not working that much, but now that I can book you for magazine pictorials and the major fashion shows, you can't be in L.A. anymore."
Jamie felt a rush of anxiety course through her. "I'm going to have to think about that," she responded carefully. "I like living in L.A. and commuting hasn't been a problem so far."
"Well, sure, but since you and your boyfriend are no longer together, there's really no reason for you to stay there." Liz said bluntly. "Hey, your new boyfriend lives in Ireland, so living here makes more sense anyway."
Jamie flinched at the casual way the most intimate parts of her life was being dissected, and she really resented the assumption that she moved to L.A. to be with Chase. "That really isn't a factor."
"Is your career a factor?" Clearly, Liz Everett did not like being told no.
"My career doesn't seem to have been hurt by my living in L.A."
To Jamie's surprise, Liz nodded. "OK, that's fine. We'll rent an apartment here for you, then. You can still live in L.A., but it will be easier for you to stay in New York. You don't have to worry about checking in and out of hotels or anything." She stood up and went to her side of the desk. "Now, let's talk about some of these offers."
As she left the agency, Sean called her. He had told her he felt a bond with her when they first met, and now as time went on, she became more convinced that he was right. They both had an uncanny ability to pick up on what the other person was feeling.
"I just got out of a meeting," she began. "How did you know I wanted to talk to you?"
She loved talking to him, and she loved that the eight year difference in their ages made him that much more experienced than any of her friends. Jamie told him about her conversation with Liz, including the part about how living in New York would make her that much closer to him. "I know that type," Sean told her. "She sees you moving up so she's trying to establish some kind of dominance over you. If you let her tell you where to live, you'll let her tell you what kind of jobs to take. Which is the point. So I think you did a good job. But believe me, there's many, many more like her."
"I'll be careful." she said. She heard someone warming up on the drums in the background, so they said goodbye.
Jamie was heading back to the hotel, when she got a text from her brother: call me. Glancing briefly at her watch, Jamie quickly calculated that her brother was still at work. It must have been important for him to make a personal call during the day.
"Hi. What's up?"
"Hey. Jamie. Hang on, let me close the door." A second later, he returned, clearly uncomfortable. "Hey, I'm sorry if I'm interrupting anything, but, uh, I needed to get back to someone about this."
"Ok..."
"Well, I got a call from Chase."
Jamie suddenly felt sick. "And?" Please don't tell me Chase invited my brother to his bachelor party, she thought.
"Zim and all these guys wanted to celebrate my birthday next week, and of course they wanted to invite Chase."
Jamie should have known. Chase and her brother had been teammates and friends before they even met, after all. Realizing she was going to be in New York anyway, Jamie felt a surge of relief.
"That's OK, I'm going to still be here next week anyway, so, have fun."
"That's the thing." Luke said. "Chase has a game in New York. That day. And he invited us to be his guests at the game. Courtside." A slight pause. "And I'd like you to go."
"Why?" it came out harsher than she meant it to.
His voice tightly wound, her brother answered, "Because you're my sister and he's my friend. And I'm sorry it didn't work out but we are a small community out here, and I'd like us all to stay tight."
Jamie looked out of the window. "Did Chase ask you to ask for me?"
"He said he would have six tickets for me, and I could give it to whoever I wanted to." Luke knew this hurt her, and softened his tone. "This isn't any kind of setup, I promise. But I think it would be really sad if you didn't come out with us on my birthday."
Luke was right, of course, and she said so. "But do you think Sean will mind?" she asked.
Luke made a small sound of annoyance. "Jesus, how long have you known this guy, and you're going to choose family over him?"
"God, Luke, calm down! I just asked if you thought it was going to be weird with him. Why are you so mad?"
"Because I think you're taking this way, way too fast. He's famous, he's older and he's going at warp speed. I'm not sure you're ready for all this."
Jamie began to protest, but Luke cut her off. "I'm going to be really pissed if we end up in a fight about this guy. So let's not start, OK?"
She took a deep breath. "OK, Luke. I'll see you on your birthday."
Luke refused to give his sister any details about his birthday celebration. "It's all been taken care of," he told her. "Just clear your calendar."
Which is why she was headed to Madison Square Garden tonight without even a ticket in her purse. Luke texted her that they were going to eat in the organization's private dining room right before the game with vague instructions that someone would be waiting for her at the main entrance. As usual, a red jacketed VIP "handler" was there to greet her, and Jamie followed him, amazed that it was only five months ago when she was here for the first time with Chase.
Luke, Zimmer and Danny Olman were already seated and enjoying cocktails on the leather armchairs when she walked in. "Happy Birthday," she said hugging her brother. It had bee
n over two weeks since she had seen him. She greeted Zimmer and Danny fondly, although Danny, as Chase's close friend, was a little more reserved in saying hello. "This is great," she said, looking around the plush dining room. "But, where are we?"
"This is where the players' friends and families come to have dinner before the game," Luke explained as they were being seated. "The menu is great, too."
Throughout the meal, some of the players came in and said hello to their guests. Although they tried not to be, it was obvious that Luke and Danny, as previous basketball players were impressed at seeing some of their idols. For Jamie, it was nice to see the men interact with their family and friends: respectful to their wives and mothers, playful with their children. She was touched that Chase went to all this trouble for them, especially since he didn't even play for this team. Chase came in, already dressed in his warm up suit and was promptly greeted by a few good-natured boos from the New York fans. He was quickly provided a chair from the wait staff. "Nothing for me, thanks," he said politely when offered a menu.
"Hey, man, this is great." Zim answered when he asked how they liked their meal. Nods all around. The guys talked amongst themselves for a few minutes, catching up on people they all knew.
"Well, thanks for coming out to watch me play," Chase said in what must have been the understatement of the year. He turned to Jamie. "Hey Jamie, how's it going?"
Actually, it hurts just to look at you, Chase. "I'm good, Chase. Thanks so much for doing this. It's great."
The rest of the table remained silent, suddenly engrossed in the signed photographs of players on the walls. "No problem. How's work?"
"Really busy. My agency wants me to spend more time here, so they got me an apartment. I think Luke will probably have his place to himself again." She looked over at Luke, who avoided her eyes. "You said this was just temporary." he reminded her. "We're still supposed to find a place to share"
Jamie smiled at Chase, who was now looking at her with a slight frown. "So you're not moving to New York."
