He shoved his feelings for Serena down, and mustered his professional face. He had a feeling this shoot would be impactful. Serena wasn’t the only one who needed time to recharge after being engaged with people too long. That’s why Chase traveled—to feed his soul when it was running on fumes.
Jennifer climbed out of the passenger side of the rental car, a notepad and pen in her hand, and shoved a fisherman-style hat on her head. “You ready to do this?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be.”
They stepped into the lot and were immediately confronted by an older man, his beard scruffy and his clothes well-worn. He glanced down at Chase’s cameras and Jennifer’s notepad. “What are you doing here?”
Chase scrambled for his press pass and held it out for the man. “We’re here on behalf of Culture Magazine. We’re here to put a face on the situations that have led to these tent cities. We’d like to talk to you for a few minutes, if that’s okay.”
The man’s gaze darted between the two of them for a moment before he jerked his head and ambled toward a tent along the chain-link fence. He reached into the opening and fumbled around, and then pulled out two plastic crates. He flipped them over and set them on the ground motioning to Chase and Jennifer.
“Thank you.” Chase had learned early on that people found ways to take pride in what they had, even if it wasn’t much. If anything, the man he’d spoken to in New York had reaffirmed that in Chase’s mind. This man took pride in protecting the residents of this area, and in making sure other people were comfortable.
Chase wasn’t about to snub that by standing.
Chase nodded to Jennifer. The cameras had spooked the man, so he’d likely open up to her easier.
“My name is Jennifer and this is Chase. Is there something we can call you?”
“The name’s Tommy.”
“Where are you from, Tommy?” Jennifer’s soft touch was what the man needed to open up and talk about the circumstances that had landed him here.
“Portland. Born and raised there.” Tommy glanced off into the distance, like he was remembering days past.
Once Jennifer got Tommy talking about what it was like growing up in the greater northwest, Chase rose to his feet quietly and stepped away. After a few minutes, he raised his camera and snapped a photo of Tommy, his eyes bright and a smile on his dirt-smeared face. The wide expanse of the parking lot, and row after row of tents stretched out behind him, with the Los Angeles skyline in the background, was a stark reminder of how far some of these people had fallen.
After Chase shot a few more images, he ambled back over and sat down.
“How did you end up here?” Jennifer asked.
“I was diagnosed with schizophrenia. I controlled it with medication for a while, but my wife and son couldn’t handle it anymore. I lost my job and couldn’t support them, much less myself. They’re better off without me anyway. I hear she’s got a new husband and he’s good to my boy. After I left, I started wanderin’, taking odd jobs when I could, working my way south where it was warmer.” Tommy fiddled with the fingerless glove on his left hand. It couldn’t have been easy to share his story, a testament to Jennifer’s gentle approach to interviews.
Jennifer asked a few more questions, adding notes in her pad, and then rose to her feet and thanked Tommy. Chase extended his hand. “It was nice to meet you. Good luck to you.”
Tommy stared at the offering for a minute and then shook Chase’s hand.
Chase and Jennifer wandered further into the lot. He didn’t say anything, his mind processing everything that Tommy shared with them. Going from a successful life with a family to living alone in a tent was proof that life was fragile and one change could upend everything.
They came across a woman drawing tic-tac-toe boards on the pavement with chalk. When she was done, two kids cheered and then proceeded to try and beat each other at the simple game. Jennifer crouched down and smiled at the kids. “Hi, I’m Jennifer. What are you guys playing?”
“Tic-tac-toe.” The little girl might have been five or six with curly hair and reminded him a lot of Serena’s niece Sofia.
The boy beside her threw his hands in the air. “I won again.”
“No fair, Noah. I never win.”
The boy jumped up and ran toward another section of the lot. Chase figured even in this “neighborhood,” kids had their friends.
Jennifer approached the woman who had leaned against a tattered pillow and extended her hand. “I’m Jennifer and this is Chase. Could we talk to you for a few minutes?”
The woman threw a cautious look at her daughter and then nodded. “My name’s Monica.”
While Jennifer talked to the woman, Chase approached the little pouting girl, her arms crossed across her chest. He etched another game board on the pavement. “Will you play with me? My name’s Chase.”
“What kind of name is that? Are you running away from somebody?”
He laughed. Leave it to the children to put things in perspective. “Sounds like it, right?” He leaned in a little closer. “My real name’s Edward, they just call me Chase.”
“I like Edward.”
“All right then. But what should I call you?” Chase sat down on the pavement beside the little girl.
“Ava. Can I go first?”
Chase handed her the small length of chalk he’d picked up off the ground. She placed her X and then Chase followed with an O, careful to give her several openings to win, until she finally drew three Xs in a row.
“I won. Hey, Mommy. I beat Edward.” The little girl threw herself into her mother’s arms.
Monica looked away from Jennifer and smiled at him. A smile that told him she appreciated what he’d done for her daughter.
He sat beside Jennifer. “Do you mind if I take your picture with Ava?”
The woman patted her hair and brushed her hands down her clothes.
Chase gave her an easy smile. “You look fine. And I bet it’s been a while since you’ve had a photo with your daughter. I can make sure you get a copy.”
Monica’s face brightened. “That would be great.” She settled the curly-haired girl on her lap and then the two of them smiled as Chase took several photos. He reached out and tickled Ava until she giggled and he captured what he thought was the perfect shot.
Jennifer scribbled a few notes on her pad. “Monica was telling me how her husband died two years ago and that she couldn’t find a job that paid enough to take care of Ava.”
Monica was quick to jump in. “I found a job now, and Ava is old enough to go to Kindergarten, but no way can we afford the rents. I hate that my baby has to live here, but I’m saving my money and someday, we’ll be able to live in a nice house—”
“With a big back yard,” Ava added.
Chase laughed. Much like in the villages he’d encountered overseas, kids were kids. They had the same dreams as other kids their age and didn’t let their circumstances affect their sunny outlook.
He walked away, needing a minute to process everything he’d heard. When he took this assignment, he wasn’t quite sure what to expect. Sure, he’d seen the homeless problem on the streets of New York and in most major cities in the US, but the reality of discussing the situations that brought these people to the depths of desperation that would have them living in tents was heartbreaking. No matter what they did, life kept knocking them down.
He expected this kind of devastation in third-world countries, where famine wiped out entire generations or war had ravaged the landscape, but not in his own country. Not when a mere ten miles away lived some of the wealthiest people in the world. The contrast between the two was striking.
And the city wanted to tear these people’s homes down.
Chase reminded himself that he was part of that wealth. That he had grown up in privilege, with housekeepers and nannies and drivers to take him wherever he wanted. That he had a trust fund with more zeros than he cared to count sitting primarily untouched since he turned twenty-
one. He hadn’t wanted anything to do with his father, or the family money, since he struck out on his own.
Was that why he’d taken on the worst locations for his assignments? To remind himself that his petty complaints were nothing compared to what most people in the world had to face?
He wandered around the lot for the better part of two hours, sequestering himself behind his camera to try and detach from the subjects he photographed. Who was he kidding? He couldn’t sit back and watch when people were in need.
But why did he have to go around the world to show the reality of life for those that were suffering the most? He could put his energies and his money to use helping the people of his own country pick themselves up by their bootstraps, because most of them weren’t looking for a handout, just a hand up.
If he stayed in the United States, maybe he could find a way to have a relationship with Serena. Her issue was his travel. No, her concern was her ability to trust the man she was with. His travel just provided the circumstances for her to distrust. He couldn’t fix that for her. It was something she had to realize for herself. But if he was interested in a future together, he could help her, right?
By the time he and Jennifer returned to the car several hours later, he had a camera memory card full of images and she had a notebook full of stories. He didn’t say anything while he packed away his cameras, his mind racing with thoughts and ideas he couldn’t quite organize. But this shoot had reminded him that this is who he was, a man who lived his life around other people, listening to their stories and documenting their lives.
Hopefully he could find a way to do that from Cedar Hill.
“Where can I drop you?” Chase’s ticket had been booked open-ended. He hadn’t been to the west coast in a number of years and now that he was here, he debated whether he should try to visit his sister in San Francisco.
“My best friend from college lives in Highland Park. I plan on visiting her for a few days. If you can drop me at the subway, that’ll be great.”
A few minutes later, Chase waved at Jennifer as she walked into an underground station and then pulled into a parking lot and shut off the engine.
He slipped his phone out of the console and scrolled through his contacts until he found Elizabeth.
The phone rang twice in his ear before his sister answered. “Chase?”
“Hey, sis. Yeah, it’s me.”
“Hold on a sec.” He heard shuffling through the phone. “Okay, I’m back. How are you?”
“I’m good. I’m sorry I didn’t come out when Father was in the hospital.”
“That’s all right. I didn’t expect you to.”
He winced. He deserved that. Regardless of how Father had treated Chase, he was still his flesh and blood.
“Where are you now? Some exotic place in India or Cambodia or something like that?”
“No, I’m in Los Angeles.”
He pulled the phone away from his ear to buffer the sound of her screech. “You’re so close. You have to come up to San Francisco.”
“I don’t know, Elizabeth.” But as much as he resisted, he knew that he’d called his sister so she could convince him it was time to go home. “I’m not sure I want to see Father.”
“You don’t have to. Come see me.”
“How is the old man anyway?”
“Same bastard he’s always been.” Elizabeth laughed at the joke that had resonated between them since they were children. “Was back at work the day after he was discharged from the hospital, shouting orders at anyone who would listen and reaming people for his perceived lack of progress during the two days he was out.”
“Sounds like Father.”
“Please, Chase. Come visit. You’re so close. Who knows when that’ll happen again.”
Elizabeth didn’t know that he was considering leaving his international travel behind and focusing his energies on the challenges he saw in the US. No one did. But he’d put off going home for long enough. It was time. If seeing Serena with her family on Saturday night showed him anything, it was that family was important. “All right. I’ll be up there tomorrow.”
Elizabeth squealed again. “That’s so great. I’ll see you then. I can’t wait.”
She clicked off before Chase could even say goodbye. As he stared at the phone, he realized that he had only texted Serena once since he left her—right as he was boarding the plane in Philadelphia. He should send her a message. Just to let her know he was thinking about her. But she hadn’t responded to his text on Sunday, and she was the one that insisted they cut ties when he left Cedar Hill.
This is what he wanted, right? To live a life where he had the flexibility to go where the muse sent him, to explore his creativity, without anything or anyone tying him down.
The idea sank heavy in his stomach.
Chapter Seventeen
Serena poured food into a bowl for the new arrival that had shown up late last night. The poor German Shepherd mix was practically emaciated and his coat was matted and filthy. He wasn’t wearing a collar and from the looks of it, had been living on the streets for some time.
Much like the people Chase went to photograph.
She shook the thought out of her head. She had told him she was done, that she couldn’t deal with his nomadic lifestyle but that didn’t stop her from thinking about him.
All the time.
She extended her hand to the dog, a few pieces of food on her palm. “Here you go, sweetie. It’s okay. You can have a bite.”
Skittish from his time not being cared for, the dog approached her slowly, jumping back each time he heard another dog bark or a movement in the kennel beside him. Finally, he reached her hand and pressed his nose to it, sniffed around, and then guardedly snaked his tongue out and nicked a piece of kibble. He scooched back, his eyes locked on Serena as he chewed the bite.
That was okay. She was patient. She had learned early on that it took some animals longer than others to adjust to being at the shelter. Especially those that had been on the streets for a long time. Eventually the dog crept forward and snatched the remaining pieces of food out of her hand. This time he didn’t step back. Progress. She extended her hand slowly and placed it between his ears. A gentle reminder that she was there… and she was his friend. He allowed her to touch for a moment before he retreated to the back corner of the kennel.
She’d call that a success for today.
She moved down the row, filling food bowls and loving on each of the animals for a few minutes until she reached Charlie’s empty kennel.
A family had adopted him on Sunday.
She felt the loss of each resident when they found their new home or, in a few cases, died before she could place them, but Charlie’s hurt more than most. As hard as she tried, she grew attached to each of the animals and she and Charlie had a special bond that had formed soon after he arrived at the shelter.
A bond that Chase had captured that first day.
She plopped onto the straw-covered floor. Why did everything in her life keep coming back to him? She tried so hard to ignore the ache that had settled into her belly within minutes of telling Chase to leave. When she’d gotten his text on Sunday, it was all she could do to keep from answering. She’d been strong and let the message sit on her phone without a response.
That night she had seen his T-shirt slung across her bed, reminding her of the nights she’d spent in his arms, the way he’d cradled her when she slept, the intensity of his gaze when he joined them intimately. She’d never had a relationship like the one she’d had with Chase.
And she may never again.
This was her own fault. If only she could get over the thought that every man she dated was destined to cheat. She knew that her fears were irrational, but she couldn’t set them aside. Even for Chase.
She pulled her phone out of her pocket and clicked the button to activate the screen. One of the few photos she actually had of Chase flashed on the display. It was the two of them on the Wheel the
day he’d taken her to the Steel Pier. The day her entire world was turned upside down… when he told her who he really was.
See, from the very beginning, he wasn’t honest with her. He didn’t tell her who he was the minute they met.
She brought up her browser and typed in Chase Foster. She’d held off as long as she could, she just needed to remind herself of what she’d had and thrown away. She navigated to his web site and clicked on an image from earlier this year. Where were this mother and son now? Was this the child that died in Chase’s arms? She didn’t know how he did it, how he forced himself to confront some of the horrors around the world so he could document them.
Way to be shallow, Serena. Here she was, lamenting that she’d broken up with the man she was falling in love with while others were struggling to survive.
She pressed back on the browser and started to click off her phone with another image flashed in the search results. Famed photographer Chase Foster and Ashley… was the extent of the headline she could read without clicking on the image. Did she want a reminder of what Chase was doing while he was in California?
She couldn’t stop herself from pressing on the screen and bringing up the photo of Chase and a woman. Standing on a city street corner, Chase’s hand on her waist as she pressed her lips to his cheek.
Tears sprang to her eyes. She swiped them away, angry with herself. She knew better than to bring up the picture.
No, that wasn’t right. She didn’t do anything wrong here. Chase clearly hadn’t wasted any time finding someone to occupy his bed after Serena made it clear that he wasn’t welcome in hers anymore.
What had she expected? Exactly that. That’s what men did, they found the most convenient woman and slept with them.
She smacked at the button on her phone to darken the screen. She’d seen enough. She’d made the right decision when she’d told Chase to leave.
Thank God she hadn’t fallen in love with him.
Who was she kidding? It wouldn’t hurt this much if she didn’t love him. But why did the men she loved cheat?
Chasing Trust: A Small Town Steamy Romance (Harper Family series Book 3) Page 19
