Chasing the Dream: Dream Series, Book 3

by Isabelle Peterson

  “Sure, I guess. If you’re sure…” This couldn’t be happening. He really was a first class jerk!

  “Sure I’m sure. I promise. It’s all good. Your job is safe.”

  Speechless, all I could do was nod. He picked up his cell phone and started to do whatever it was that was infinitely more interesting than talk to the girl he’d fucked into nirvana the night before.

  Head down, I walked to the door. I shoved on my boots, and turned to say good-bye, but he was already gone. I heard the water start in the bathroom. Guess I was given my orders. FUCK! God I was so stupid!

  On the cab ride to my apartment, I felt miserable. I’d let myself be someone I never wanted to be. A one-night stand. With a known player. What was I thinking? Maybe this was how it was with the PA before me, Dana. Maybe this was the day after when she blazed into Valerie’s office guns a-blazin’. Lord knew I felt like marching into Valerie’s office and quitting right now.

  But I wouldn’t. I needed this internship. I didn’t want to disappoint Mr. Stevens…Jack. Shit! I hadn’t thought about all that went down with my mom and him since yesterday.

  And just when I thought that I couldn’t feel worse, I pulled out the bill that Chase had shoved in my purse. A fifty! Now I really felt like a whore.

  My phone buzzed with a text from Jenny. I opened it and saw a reminder about dinner tonight. Part of me wanted to cancel and wallow in self-pity. But the smarter part of me knew that being with people would be better than being alone.

  You fucking ASSHOLE! I screamed at myself in the shower. You let her walk out of here. You put money in her purse like she was some two-bit hooker and blew her off. You didn’t even wait until she left!!

  This was my lowest of low. When I walked in on her after my self-guided punishing workout, I prayed that she was still sleeping so I could watch her, peacefully. And maybe, maybe, if I had any more luck waiting for me, she wouldn’t be freaked out and run out of here screaming.

  It was close. I caught her hastily getting dressed—to leave, no doubt. She wasn’t happy with last night. She was embarrassed. Or I had failed in the sack, but even I was impressed with my performance.

  Three hours ago I had woken up with way too much energy—my “Big Charlie” more awake than the rest of me. I wanted to roll Phoebe over, lick her ferociously until she came, then fuck her until she came again. I could still hear her calling my name as she came. So, I worked out for two hours and then some, and when I came back, she was leaving. I don’t know what clicked in me, but I had been a jerk, and now she was gone. I mean I know what happened. I freaked out. And instead of handling my emotions like a mature, twenty-four year old, I behaved like a thirteen-year old dumbfuck! I should have begged her to stay. To wait for me to shower, then take her to breakfast, or order in and eat breakfast in bed. And maybe some other stuff in bed.

  Fuck!

  Fuck! Fuck! FUCK!!!

  I fucked this up big time. I might as well turn in my Screen Actors Guild card now and collect my Celibate Monk card because I would never be able to act like I cared for, or would be satisfied with another girl—no, woman—again. I was done. Phoebe was it. I didn’t want anyone else.

  Why did I freak out so badly? But… could anyone blame me? I mean holy crap on a cracker! I had never connected like that! What do you do with that? And now—I needed her. I ached for her. I craved for her.

  Monday. Monday when I got back to town. I would make it all perfect then. I needed to nail this part and be the Chase Smythe—no, the Charlie—Phoebe knew me to be.

  CHAPTER 19

  I almost called Jenny and cancelled dinner at her parents place a half a dozen times. I felt like shit, physically and emotionally. I’d been ‘beating myself up’ for the past six hours about being totally stupid and falling into Chase’s bed, and I was seriously exhausted. Also, my body ached in certain places…delicious places… to remind me of the amazing sex Chase and I’d had, only to start scolding myself again for sleeping with him.

  However, I didn’t cancel and I was glad that I hadn’t. Dinner with Jenny and her parents was just what I needed. Her parents were wonderful and warm, just like Jenny. Jenny’s fiancé, Ankur, was also there. He was sinfully handsome, charming and extremely sweet with her. I could see why Jenny wouldn’t object to the arranged marriage with him.

  Dinner, Chicken Makhani with jasmine rice and roasted cauliflower with homemade naan for sopping up the delicious sauce, was just what I needed after the morning and afternoon. Good food and good conversation, which flowed easily at the table. Jenny’s father was very funny and her mother was as sweet as could be. Jenny’s fourteen-year old brother, Nahil, sat next to me. He was very shy, but his beautiful brown eyes were often caught fixating on me, and more than once he fingered my hair and called it some word I presumed was Hindi. After Jenny’s mom excused herself to the kitchen to make dessert, Nahil scurried off to his room, and Ankur and Jenny’s dad started to discuss hospital stuff, so Jenny and I moved to the living room.

  “Sorry about Nahil,” she started. “We’re still trying to get him to understand that staring at someone is rude. And clearly, he’s very intrigued by your hair.”

  “He’s fine. No problem, whatsoever.” I ran my hand down my blonde locks. I left it down in utter defiance of Chase’s request that I wear it down only for him. What a fucking douchenozzle! Oh, but you knew better, didn’t you Phoebe? I chided myself.

  “So, you never did text me where you and Chase were filming last night. Or are you keeping him all to yourself?” Jenny said, changing the subject, as if she knew I was thinking about him.

  “Oh, shit,” I gasped and covered my mouth, looking around to see if anyone had heard me swear. Thankfully no one seemed to have noticed. “I’m sorry. I meant to text you, but…”

  “Don’t worry. I’m sure my brain would not be working if I were around him, too,” she laughed. “So, what’s it like to be Chase Smythe’s Girl?” she asked.

  “Ugh. It’s all rumor, you know. We aren’t together. I just work for him, that’s it. It’s all very professional.”

  “That’s quite a sales pitch. Especially with all the TwitterPics out there.”

  “God, don’t remind me,” I said, dropping my head back, feeling tears sting my eyes. Don’t you dare cry! You knew it would be a one-night fling.

  “I’ll be right back. I’m going to use the toilet,” Jenny said, popping out of her chair.

  I nodded, grateful to have the time to get my thoughts together. Not just the stupid move on my part to sleep with Chase, but my mother’s bombshell of her pending divorce to my dad. I was looking forward to talking to Jenny about it and sorting out my feelings there. It had been such a fucked up two days I hardly knew if I was coming or going.

  A loud laugh from Jenny’s mom drew my attention and I glanced into the kitchen. Ankur was on his phone talking with someone and Jenny’s dad had moved into the kitchen and was trying to sneak bites of the dessert that was being prepared, lovingly tickling his wife to get her to move so he could snag his prize. I wondered if my mom was like that with Mr. Stev—er, Jack.

  “Phoebe,” Jenny said, appearing in front of me with her purse in hand. “I’m out of tampons and my mom doesn’t have her period anymore. Do you have one to spare?”

  “Oh sure,” I said, unfolding myself from my chair. I opened my purse and handed her both a tampon and a panty liner.

  “You’re a God-send!” she said.

  As she ran back to the bathroom, I started to think about my own cycle. I’d never been very regular, but when was the last time I had my period? It had to be coming soon. I opened the calendar app on my phone and looked at the Monthly View. Today was Friday, May 31st, 2013. April around this time, I was just getting back to Ohio from my week stay in New York with my mom. I didn’t get it then… End of March? I scanned through my calendar and the other events that were going on. Ah! Definitely in March. I’d definitely had my period in March. It was Dickwad’s birthday and there wa
s ‘no room at the inn’ with my lady products. Dickwad was pissed to not get a birthday fuck. ‘All he got’ was a blowjob.

  I had never been very regular, but to go two months, April and now May, without a period was odd to say the least. I thought about the last times I’d had sex with Danny. But we’d used protection every time. I especially remembered the colored, glow in the dark condoms from the April Fools Day party. It must just be all the stress in my last couple of months. Surely my cycle would start in a day or two.

  “Are you okay?” Jenny asked, returning to the living room.

  “Um, yeah. Sure. I’m great. Just worn out I guess from the crazy week.”

  “Understandable.”

  “Payasam,” Jenny’s mother called from the dining table.

  “Come on!” Jenny pulled me from my seat, excitedly. “My mother makes the best payasam in all of New York.”

  Sitting to eat the warm and creamy pudding, I couldn’t think straight. I couldn’t be pregnant could I? How had my life gotten so fucked up? My parents were now divorced. I broke my one-night-stand rule with a known player and—

  “Are you all right, dear?” Jenny’s mother asked, her voice and face full of concern.

  “You’ve suddenly gone quite pale. And for you, that’s saying a lot,” Nahil chimed in quietly.

  “I can look you over if you like? I imagine that you don’t have a doctor in town at this point? You’ve been here for only two weeks, isn’t that right?”

  Feeling like I’ve been pelted with questions from very well intentioned people, coupled with my own list of questions and high running emotions, tears welled up in my eyes.

  “She’s just had a very exciting and tiring week, Mother,” Jenny jumped in, answering for me. “It’s all catching up to her.”

  “Well, if you need anything, we’re here for you. It must be hard with your family on the other coast. Janhavi says your family is all in California. We’re happy to be your surrogate family.” Jenny’s mom said reaching over and rubbing my arm.

  “Thank you,” I said. I wanted to explain that my mom was now in town, but how do you tell the perfect family that your family is breaking up? I sat and enjoyed a few bites of the payasam, but my stomach had another plan, and food going down wasn’t one of them. Somehow I was able to keep the delicious food down, but I didn’t press my luck.

  You’re just stressed out, I told myself.

  “Mom, we’re going to get going,” Jenny said, standing. “Ankur, would you drive us home?”

  “No funny business, Janhavi,” her mother scolded, with a small smile.

  “Yes, Mother.”

  “I’ll make sure both girls get home safely, and no funny business,” Ankur said, solemnly raising his hand, “I promise.”

  Hugs and kisses were exchanged in the group, and Ankur, Jenny, and I headed down the street.

  I desperately wished that it were just Jenny and me. I really could have used a friend to talk to. I was seriously losing my shit. Watching Jenny and Ankur hold hands in the elevator, I knew I couldn’t ask her to ditch him and hang with me in my apartment. The two really looked to be in love.

  Ankur drove me home in his Prius. I walked into the building, Gilbert greeting me with his silent nod—such a difference from the comparatively chatty, Dominic, and for once, I was grateful. I walked to the elevator bay and hung out there until I thought Jenny and Ankur might be gone, then went back out. Assured that they left, I walked to the nearest drug store and made the most difficult purchase of my nineteen years…a pregnancy test.

  At home, I dropped the bag from the drug store on the kitchen counter by the door, flopped onto the sofa, and clicked on the TV.

  As luck would have it, the program for the station was airing a TGIFriday’s commercial showing incredible looking food, and suddenly I was hungry. I bolted to the kitchen and opened the fridge but nothing looked appealing, so I ransacked the cupboards. I found the box of microwave kettle corn, tossed into the micro, and set the timer. While I waited for the rapid popping to slow, the bag with the box on the counter mocked me. We stared at each other in a bizarre standoff.

  “I’m not ready to take you,” I said to the box. “Let’s give it another day or two. You don’t know this about me but I never had a regular cycle and I had been under a ton of stress lately.” Great I was talking to a fucking pregnancy test. “See, I’m not pregnant, I’m just crazy.” I laughed. The box didn’t. “I mean, what Dickwad did to me,” I continued telling the box and bag, “I’ve had finals, I moved, started a new job…those are stressful things. They would cause anybody’s cycle to go all kiddywampus. Right?” The box still didn’t answer. Stupid box.

  The popcorn finished popping and I dumped it into a bowl then headed back to the sofa. I tried getting into the movie on TBS, but I couldn’t focus. I mindlessly ate popcorn and flipped through channels. It seemed that every movie or TV show or commercial was about babies or products for babies. However, when I flipped to ABC, there was a commercial for Jimmy Kimmel “an interview with the super hot, Chase Smythe!” I turned off the TV and threw the remote across the room. Clearly the universe was working against me.

  CHAPTER 20

  Exhausted, but unable to sleep, I got out of bed at seven in the morning. I had breakfast ‘penciled in’ with my mom for this morning, and according to the text that came in around two in the morning, we were to meet at the Atlantic Grill on Third Avenue at Seventy-seventh Street at ten o’clock.

  After I showered and brushed my teeth, I made my way into the kitchen to make some coffee. I avoided looking at the unopened box of two pregnancy tests in the Duane Reade Pharmacy bag. All night long this box mocked me, the fear of an answer I couldn’t handle kept me snuggled in bed.

  Getting dressed, I gave my breasts a quick squeeze. They were tender. This is what usually happened when my period came around, which was irregular at best. That was a good sign, right? I mean, if breasts were for breastfeeding, they couldn’t be too tender, right? I slipped on my favorite jeans—my pair that made me look like a size eight, not a size twelve, and a loose, light pink chiffon top with a black tank underneath. Realizing I’d done the Good & Plenty color scheme again, I tore off that top and opted for a bright yellow shirt that set off my light blue eyes. A light touch of makeup, and a quick messy bun, hating that I was in a bizarre way following Chase’s edict to wear my hair up, not down, in public, and I was on my way.

  At nine forty-five, I left the apartment to head to breakfast with my mom, my nerves totally shot. What were we going to talk about? That my mom left my dad? That she was screwing the man that got me the interview for my internship? That I was a Twitter phenom of late, due to actor Chase Smythe? That I’d had a one-night stand with said actor? That I might be pregnant from a Dickwad a few months back? Nope! I’m not… I can’t be.

  I was so engrossed with my musings about what my mom and I would talk about that I hadn’t noticed Kevin step into the elevator looking impossibly perfect. He was outfitted for a run and suddenly, as much as I really didn’t like running, Kevin’s full routine was far more appealing than what was on my docket for the morning.

  “You okay, Boots?” he asked.

  I forced a totally fake, a totally Chase, smile. “I’m great. Going to have breakfast with Mom right now.”

  He stiffened. Yup…totally caught him off guard with that one. And maybe he read my fake smile.

  “She insisted that she be the one to break the news. You understand, right?” he asked as the doors closed and we started to descend.

  “I guess,” I shrugged. “Yeah, I do,”

  “She didn’t want you pre-occupied with her drama. So when did she tell you? I thought she was going to wait until things were finalized.”

  Oh this was rich. Kevin, a non-family member, knew more about her situation than I did. But I guess when you’re asked to babysit like Kevin was apparently charged to do with me by my mom you’re privy to more insider information. “She didn’t actually tell me
,” I replied. “I kinda walked in on her and Mr. Ste—er, Jack.”

  Kevin looked at me, confused.

  “Oh, yeah. They were, lets just say, intimate,” I said with air quotes.

  Kevin let out a slow whistle. “Ouch. For both you and your mom.”

  “That which doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger, or so they say,” I sighed, doing my best to blink back the tears that threatened as I felt my whole life fall in on me.

  “You’ll be fine. Jack is good for your mother. I’ve seen her with him and they’re very happy together. Jack is a really good man. He treats your mother like a princess.”

  I felt like the elevator was getting smaller with each word that Kevin spoke. Fortunately, the tiny prison reached the lobby and the doors opened.

  “I’ll see ya, Kevin. Have a good run,” I tossed over my shoulder and got the hell out of there. I practically ran to the street, leaving a stunned Kevin and Dominic in my haste. Even though I needed to turn left to get to Third Avenue and walk down four blocks, I knew that Kevin would be turning left out of the building to go to Central Park for his run. The big baby that I was, I turned right, almost grateful for the extra block of walking that I would need to do. My pants were a bit snug—probably from all the junk food I ate during finals, right? And any extra walking would be good for my waistline.

  While I marched down Second Avenue toward Seventy-seventh Street, I tried to come up with the best opening line for my mom and this absolutely fucked up nightmare that I was living.

  …So, Jack seems nice…

  …How did you and Jack meet?

  …How serious are things with Jack?

  …So, will you be keeping Fairchild for a last name? Or will you be changing it to Stevens?