Chasing the Dream: Dream Series, Book 3

by Isabelle Peterson

  I closed the lid on the toilet and sat down. “I—I—It wasn’t—” I stammered. Shame and despair again flooding through my mind and heart. My stomach clenched, and had there been anything at all left in there, I’m sure it would have come rising back up.

  “Hey, of course you didn’t intend for this to happen,” she soothed. “And the father?”

  I groaned, and nodded. “Danny Fitzsimmons. He was my boyfriend at school. He’s from Daytona.”

  “You’re sure it was him? I didn’t think you had a boyfriend. At least not ‘just one’ nor one you were sleeping with.”

  I nodded again. When I had come in April, I told my mom that that I had been playing the field, casual dating instead of getting serious about one guy. It was my defense against admitting, even to myself, that I had let myself get taken by a douchnozzle. So, now she was thinking that I was a floozy, sleeping around. Shit! Fuck! “I actually had only one boyfriend.” I chanced a glance at her. She was surprised. “But I was more faithful than he was. We actually had broken up just before I came here in April.” I bit my lip and looked at her to see how she was taking my little lie from months ago.

  She nodded quietly. No judgment. No lecture. The look on her face wasn’t joy, but it wasn’t anger either. Just understanding and strength. “I’m sorry I didn’t notice something was up when you were here in April. I was so wrapped up in my own drama.”

  “It’s all good, Mom. I didn’t want you to know. Maybe I should have majored in acting?” I laughed, my mom only somewhat joining in.

  Concern clouded her face again and she continued. “When are you due?”

  “December twentieth.”

  “What is your plan? How can I help?”

  I took a deep breath and let it out. She was being amazing. I don’t know what I expected from this exchange, but I don’t think I expected her patience and concern and friendship. “Adoption,” I managed. “I’m going to do the adult thing. I’ve decided that I’m going to give the baby to a couple who want a baby. The only way to make the best of a bad situation.”

  “That’s very admirable, honey,” she said rubbing my back.

  “Charlie’s adopted. It worked out well for him.”

  “Who’s Charlie?”

  “Oh. Chase. His real name is Charlie. Chase is his stage name. He was adopted.”

  “Really? That’s very interesting.” She rubbed my back for a moment longer. “Honey?” I looked up at her, tears spilling out of my eyes. “I’m proud of you. That’s a very difficult decision.”

  There was a gentle knock on the door. “Sweets?” Charlie asked from the other side. I couldn’t help the smile that burst onto my face.

  My mom smiled back at me. “You two are adorable.” My mind flashed to the skinny dipping night when Charlie called me adorkable and I started to laugh. “I’m going to get you some ginger ale. It’ll help with dinner.” She got up and opened the door. She gave Charlie a loving hug, he looked surprised, then she headed off.

  “You okay?” Charlie asked, coming in and taking me in his arms.

  “I’ll be fine. She knows. She knew,” I tried to laugh.

  “And?”

  “She’s… good? She’s taking it well. At least for now.”

  Charlie just hugged me. “I love you,” he whispered into my hair.

  “I love you, back,” I breathed into his neck.

  Dinner finished nearly uneventfully, and I was able to keep food down, thanks to the ginger ale. We avoided conversation about the elephant in the room, instead talking about my internship, upcoming classes, Charlie’s move to New York, oh—and the film premiere on Friday. I still hadn’t decided if I was going, even if Charlie thought it was a foregone conclusion. Jack seemed to think it would be invaluable with a career in communications and PR. He was sure that Valerie would see the same thing and it shouldn’t be a problem.

  While my mom prepared dessert, Jack took Charlie and me to the top of his townhouse where we were greeted with a fabulous view of the Chrysler Building. He lit a fire in a large fire pit and we sat in the cushy chairs. Jack poured a drink for himself and offered one to Charlie. He declined.

  Sitting next to us, Jack cleared his throat. “So, Choebe’s a cute ‘ship name.’ Do you like it?” Oh god. He’d been following us on Twitter, too? Oh shit! He follows us on Twitter!!

  Charlie took my hand and twined our fingers together. “I could come up with worse ones,” he said smoothly. “Ph-ase. Phee-chay,” he laughed. “Choebe is fine.”

  “So, you two are serious,” he said, noting our clasped hands.

  “Sir, I’ve never been more serious about a girl. Ever. Phoebe is everything.”

  Jack grinned at the two of us. My mom came through the door with a tray piled with ingredients for s’mores, well, the way we make them, which is using Fudge Stripe cookies and marshmallows, instead of graham crackers, chocolate bars, and marshmallows. Mom set the tray down and went to sit in the seat next to Jack, but before she sat, Jack took her hand and kissed the back of it. My mother beamed with the attention and leaned in to kiss Jack on the forehead. The two were so sweet and caring with one another that I ‘got it.’ I saw between Jack and my mom what I never saw between my mom and dad. I was sad for my mom and dad, but thrilled for my mom that she finally got what made her happy.

  We all got busy toasting marshmallows. It was an unusual experience to be sitting around a campfire on the roof of a townhouse in the middle of New York City with the sights of skyscrapers and sounds of car alarms and sirens. Not quite the fireflies and crickets I was accustomed to, but it did make New York feel a little more like home.

  Mom looked at me, then glanced at Jack. “What?” I asked.

  “Can I share?”

  Oh.

  Knowing she was going to tell him anyway, I nodded.

  We spent the next half hour discussing legal issues, the merits of open versus closed adoption, using an agency or simply a legal team. Charlie’s adoption was the ‘legal team’ route versus an agency, and that seemed to work out well. Jack offered his legal team, and to pay for everything. I wasn’t sure how to proceed, but knowing that my family was being so supportive took a load off of my shoulders.

  Next giant task to manage: calling Danny. He would need to sign off on all of this, and supply a full medical history.

  We slipped into a cab, despite Jack’s protests that we take his limo service. It was actually the best way to be incognito in the city. In the past, I’d have preferred the limo. I loved when the paparazzi got pics of me, and who I was with at the moment. I loved the press, good or bad. Now, I just wanted privacy. I liked the person I was when I was with Phoebe, and the cameras triggered the showboating Chase I’d been before Phoebe. Those last pics of us, the ones of us going into Dr. Mora’s offices, those crossed the line. And they were taken with a long range lens. Someone was hiding in the bushes to get those pics. How they had tracked us to there was beyond me.

  “Your place or mine?” I asked her.

  “I don’t care,” she said, snuggling into my side. “Anywhere you’re going to be.”

  As Phoebe settled into my arms, I told the cabbie to take us to her place on East Eightieth. The cab pulled away, she started to doze, and I thought about how the night had gone. All in all, it went well. I was so proud of Phoebe. Granted, things didn’t go down with breaking the news the way she wanted to, but it all worked out. And Phoebe’s mom, and Jack… Well, they were an amazing couple together—incredibly caring and supportive.

  Phoebe and her mother were very much alike. Both gorgeous, intelligent, careful, and strong.

  Although as strong as Phoebe was, I loved how she relied on me. It made me feel—necessary.

  CHAPTER 39

  It was about ten o’clock Sunday morning when I picked up my cell phone, opened the contacts app, and looked up Danny’s number. With a trembling finger, I pressed Danny Fitzsimmons’ name, and held the phone to my ear with a shaky hand. Charlie, sitting next to me on
the sofa, rubbed my back.

  When the call connected, the sound of Danny’s voice instantly set me on edge. Charlie must have sensed my tension because he pulled me closer to him.

  “Phoebe. Hey how are ya? How’s New York?” He sounded nervous, but as arrogant as ever.

  “Hi, Danny.” My voice didn’t sound my own. “New York is great. Thanks.”

  “So, what can I do ya for?” He always said that stupid line, and he thought he was brilliant every time he said it.

  “Well, you called me a few days ago, but I—”

  “Oh, that, yeah. Drunk dial. Sorry about that. I thought I’d had some… thing… that maybe I passed onto you, but it turns out it was nothing. We’re good, babe.” When he called me babe, I cringed. It made me even happier that Charlie’s nickname for me was ‘Sweets.’ And a drunk dial? Really? Thinking that he had some ‘thing’ that he’d passed to me? I’d never been happier that Dr. Mora ran a battery of tests on me.

  “Well actually, Danny, we’re not.”

  “Huh? No, seriously, it wasn’t anything. I swear.”

  “We’re not good, Danny.”

  “Oh c’mon. Are you pissed at me? Look. Grow up. Get over it. I don’t think we were meant to be.”

  “I’m pregnant.”

  “And, not for nothin’, babe, but you’re kinda—wait, what?”

  “You heard me. I’m. Pregnant.”

  “Well, it can’t be mine. Must be Chase’s. It’s all over the internet, TV and Twitter. You’re with him. It’s not mine.”

  “Back. The. Fuck. Up,” I said standing up off of the sofa and pacing the floor. “It’s yours. I’ve done the math. I haven’t even been with Chase long enough. It was that stupid April Fools Day party and probably those lame glow in the dark condoms that Jerry was passing out. As far as—”

  “Well, you’re going to take care of things, right?” he interrupted. “I mean, what the fuck. You can’t make me be a dad. I’ll deny it. Are you trying to ruin my career before I can even get a foot in the door? Is this your messed up way of getting money out of me? You realized how rich my family is, and now you want some sick sort of payback and a paycheck? Well, you’re not getting one red dime from me, Bitch. Pay for the abortion yourself. I told you to go on the pill.”

  My heart slammed into my chest. As much as I was over him, my ego was bashed that I had ever even dated him, let alone slept with him. “God! You’re a bigger fucking asshole than I realized. It takes two to tango. And this is going to interfere with my career way more than yours. Just do yourself a favor, shut the fuck up, and listen,” I said with overpowering confidence. I heard him huff in an-all-too-familiar pout. The one he exercised when he wasn’t getting his way. How had I not realized he was such a spoiled brat earlier on, and saved myself all this agony? “I don’t want one god-damned thing from you. Especially a baby. However, I will not kill a baby. I will be putting the baby up for adoption. I need you to sign off on it, and fill out a complete medical history. You need to give me your address so I can have my lawyer send the paperwork.”

  “Your lawyer? You’re serious.”

  “As a heart attack.”

  Silence.

  “But—” he started.

  “No. You don’t get to negotiate here, Daniel. This is how it’s going to go. I can, and will if I have to, sue you, but you will do this. So, we can do this the nice way, or the not nice way. That’s the only thing you get to decide. I’m going to win either way. Address. Now.”

  Silence.

  “I’m waiting.”

  He let out a slow breath. “A baby. Really. When will it…”

  “December twentieth,” I said quietly. “Address?” I pressed.

  “But, maybe I want to…” his voice again trailed off.

  “What? Maybe you want to be a single father? That won’t put a crimp on your plans to be an ESPN sportscaster? You just said that this was going to ruin your career. Or maybe you want your mom to raise the baby? Is that what you want? Or you’re going to get married to some bimbo and have her be a step-mom? What? Maybe you want to ‘what,’ Daniel?”

  I held my breath and silently prayed that he would have one braincell about this. Him as a father was possibly the worst scenario I could think of—even worse than me being a mother right now.

  The seconds ticked by.

  “I’ll get back to you,” he said and ended the call without another word.

  “Gaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh!!!!” I screamed, stomped my feet, and threw my phone into the chair opposite where Charlie sat. “What a colossal mother-fucking-cock-sucking-sonuvaBITCH!” I screamed to no one in particular. Then I started pacing again, my mind going a million miles an hour. “I can’t believe I ever went out with that fucker. I’m so stupid! And you know something? I knew. I knew all along. I was just stupidly happy that someone as good looking as Danny wanted to go out with me. He was older and wiser. But not really. Then when you came along with your cocky and smug actorness, it just reminded me of him,” I said pointing at Charlie. “And that’s why I wanted to not like you. Despite having your picture on my walls like wallpaper since I was ten.” I found myself at the fridge door. I yanked it open and pulled out a water bottle. I opened it and took a long swig. “But you’re not him. You’re more. You’re real. I know that. And way better looking. But—God! I wasted a whole year with him. Then again, if I hadn’t, I wouldn’t have run and come to New York, and transferred here and gotten that internship…so really all of this was meant to be, right?”

  I stopped, breathing heavy and trying to catch my breath, looking at Charlie who sat and let me rant in my crazy, irrational path of nonsensical sense. He wasn’t laughing, he wasn’t disinterested. He didn’t look like he was pitying me. He slowly stood and walked up to me. Taking me in his arms, my forehead aligning with his mouth, he kissed me gently, as I inhaled the scent that was all Charlie, triggering a relaxing in my body. “No. I’m not him.” He kissed my forehead again, and I melted a little more. “I love you. And I absolutely agree we were meant to be.”

  I replayed the conversation I’d had with Danny in my head.

  I started to laugh.

  “What’s so funny?” Charlie asked, probably half worried that I’d lost my mind.

  “He said I wasn’t going to get ‘one red dime’ from him. He’s so stupid that he didn’t even think about the fact that dimes are silver. Penny’s are red, well, copper, but—”

  The phone chimed signaling a text. I glared at it as it sat in the chair. Charlie walked over and picked it up. He looked at the screen and saw a picture of the gazebo ablaze in morning glories back in Georgia. Charlie looked at me with a questioning smile. “Our wishes,” I said shrugging. “I took that pic our last morning there. What does his message say?” I asked tentatively, dread filling me.

  “It’s an address,” he said quietly.

  “Really?” I grabbed the phone from him and looked at it. It was Danny’s address. In Florida. Omigod. He was agreeing. “He’s agreed,” I whispered. “He’s agreed!” I shouted.

  I flung my arms around Charlie and he lifted me and spun me. Setting me on my feet, he looked down and smiled big.

  “Can I say something and you won’t hate me?” he asked cautiously.

  I looked at him, dread creeping back into my gut, my heart pounding in my ears. What was he going to say? Something I would hate him over? Had my tantrum shown him how crazy I was and now he wanted nothing to do with me?

  “You’re sexy when you’re bossy.”

  I stood and stared at him stunned. I didn’t know what to say. The pounding in my ears went up a notch.

  “I mean like, make-my-dick-stand-up-and-pay-attention sexy.” He waggled his eyebrows.

  “Oh yeah?” I said, raising a brow and propping a hand on my hip.

  “Please tell me you’re going to boss me around next.” He was practically breathy.

  “Okay. Kiss me,” I commanded. He cupped my face, his eyes full of love and tenderness, and his
lips came down softly on mine. He pulled back and gazed in my eyes, his own violet-blues looking much, much darker.

  “Kiss me like you mean it,” I said, my own voice growing thick with need. He grabbed me by the back of my neck, and pulled me to him. His fingers twined in my hair and he gripped tightly, a move that sent bolts of energy to my gut and leaving me breathless. My hands instinctively went to his firm back and ran downward, slipping into the waistband of his jeans. He ran his tongue along my lower lip, then he sucked it into his mouth, biting it—and not too gently.

  My knees buckled slightly and my heart lurched. The temperature in the room ratcheted up about ten degrees, and the world was only the two of us.

  I groaned into the kiss.

  “Mmm,” he hummed. “You’re a good director. What about studying film?”

  “Are you breaking character?”

  He grinned. “No ma’am.”

  “Good. Now,” I said carefully, my body vibrating with need. “Take me to bed and fuck me. Hard.”

  He pulled back, his eyes wide. “Sweets?” he questioned.

  “I’m not kidding. And that kiss? You’d better not use it on anyone else. EVER. No matter what the director tells you.”

  “What? This kiss?” He gripped my hair tightly with one hand, and with his other arm pulled me into him. He roughly pushed into my mouth and I felt his impressive ridge through his jeans press on my belly. The stinging from my scalp sent heat through my whole body.

  I pulled at the hem on his shirt and worked it up. We broke our kiss long enough to remove his shirt, and then he was back on me. He walked us back into my bedroom and pulled me onto the bed. Sitting astride him, I peeled my top off and tossed it aside. His eyes slowly took in every inch.

  I reached back and unhooked my bra, let it slide down my arms, then I dragged it across Charlie’s face. He looked to be in heaven.

  “I want you to show me how you get off,” I said sliding off of his lap and laying on my side facing him, my head propped up under my hand. He looked at me questioningly. Like I’d heard the directors say on set, I said, “Roll camera.”