Being Chase

by J. J. Scotts

  “Oh. Yes. And I read through it but –”

  Eli waved me off. “Like I said, hold on until we get upstairs.”

  Either the elevator rose like a shot, or we weren’t going up very far, because the doors slid open with a muted whoosh less than a minute later.

  Beyond the doors, instead of the hallway I expected, was a short entryway decorated in a simple modern look leading to a set of wide black double doors. Eli ushered me forward, twisting the knob and pushing one of the doors. I could hear the wind whoosh through the door as it opened.

  If I’d thought the lobby below was posh, then I needed another word for the apartment, if it was an apartment, that we stepped into. Opulent. Palatial. Something like that, with lots of important and impressive-sounding syllables.

  Across the room from Eli and me, several large windows looked out over the glittering expanse of New York City. The lush green of the trees in Central Park glowed in the early morning sun like an emerald in a silver setting. The view alone was breathtaking. There was no way I’d ever see a view like that of the city unless I took a trip to the Empire State Building’s observation deck.

  And that was just the view.

  Every stick of furniture, from the long dark leather couch to the cut glass coffee table, every painting and knick-knack displayed on the various tables scattered around the wide space, spoke of immense affluence.

  There was something very masculine about the décor though. The furniture was thick and blocky; the color scheme was cool and modern.

  I gave a low whistle.

  Landon sat on the couch, long arms spread along the back, legs crossed at the knee. He pursed his thin lips as he eyed me. I was still busy trying to look at everything in the spacious living room when he huffed a long sigh.

  “Well, you’re here. I guess you’ll do.” I stiffened slightly at the words and at Landon’s cutting tone, but shoved down any hint of shock or anger. I couldn’t afford to antagonize the cold man. And from the looks of this place, they could afford a whole lot. I felt a perverse urge to reach out and touch things, but I was terrified I’d break something with my big, calloused hands. I was used to chopping wood and hammering nails, not handling tiny priceless sculptures like the one displayed on top of a bookcase to my right.

  I forced a smile, leaving my hands relaxed at my sides. “Thanks. I’m not sure what I’ll be doing but I’m ready to start!” I tried a chuckle but it sounded stilted even to me. Eli slapped me on the back, but Landon didn’t so much as twitch an eyebrow.

  “You remembered to bring the employment packet you were given yesterday?” Landon extended his hand. Like his face, his palm looked too smooth. His eyes were shards of arctic ice. I handed the paper over quickly.

  “Yeah, sure, of course. Here. I’m just...really excited to be here. I’m uh... I’m really grateful for this opportunity. This offer.” I was babbling. I clamped my lips shut to hold back another flood of useless words.

  Landon’s brows did rise now as he lifted the packet of papers up between his hands and tore it slowly down the middle. I felt my eyes widen. My breath caught in my chest at the sight of that paper – the promise of a job – being destroyed.

  My throat suddenly felt dry and scratchy, and fire burned in my chest and cheeks.

  “What the hell? What’s going on here?” I looked from Landon to Eli, who’s normally smiling lips were pressed into a thin line. “What –”

  “That was never a real offer. We lied,” Landon replied. My stomach slid down into my shoes. “It’s funny that you thought you had a shot at a typical job here.” Landon’s wide mouth curled into a smile for the first time since I had met him. It was not a very pleasant sight.

  Chapter 3

  My heart hammered in my chest and my clean-shaven cheeks stung with heat.

  “Is this some kind of joke?” My voice rasped on the words. I glanced back and forth between Landon, who looked perversely thrilled at my shock and discomfort, to Eli, who was frowning.

  Eli shook his head. Seeing the affable man looking suddenly so dour, I felt electric panic fill my veins. A metallic taste filled my mouth. Maybe I’d screwed up somehow and they’d changed their minds. If I only knew what they wanted from me, I was sure I could do better!

  Eli clucked his tongue. “Really, Landon. Is the melodrama necessary?”

  “Yes,” Landon responded flatly. “He has to be prepared for anything. We need him on his game, not blushing and stammering like a wide-eyed dolt.” Landon rolled his eyes, clearly exasperated with me. His words made the flush in my face increase, but some of the panic ebbed away. He was testing me somehow, that much was clear. But the ‘we need him’ part echoed in my brain.

  I still had a job. That was the important thing.

  Eli pursed his lips, considering me before turning back to Landon with raised brows. “I thought we agreed the boy-next-door thing was a great angle. Ladies are going to love it.”

  I shifted uncomfortably at that. Not at being described as ‘boy-next-door.’ That, I had to admit, was pretty accurate. I knew I was typically handsome. I’d inherited my old man’s square jaw and straight nose along with his thick brown hair, and my mother’s green-gold hazel eyes and full lips. I was definitely no movie star though. Just blessed with good genes.

  No, it was the idea of female attention that made me nervous. I’d experienced it before, of course, but the way Eli was talking...it didn’t sound like he meant he was going to try and set me up on a blind date with his little sister, the way my boss at my last construction gig had done.

  “Yeah, yeah. He still has to be smooth though.” Landon studied his nails, and I wondered if he was one of those guys who got manicures. Actually, I could imagine it. Landon was a fucking weirdo. He raised those pale eyes to me and his lips twitched into a more natural smile. Still thin, but not as wicked as before. “The look’s fine. But he’s still got to be articulate.”

  The comment made me straighten my shoulders and lift my chin. I may have been a farm boy who worked construction, but I wasn’t stupid. “I am quite capable of being articulate, if the situation calls for it. As long as I’m prepared.” I gave a half shrug. The last part was maybe too honest for my new employers, but it was true.

  The fact that I didn’t know what I was walking into had made it difficult to prepare myself. I was normally much better spoken than I had been the two times I’d met Landon.

  “Don’t worry,” Eli said, jovial smile back in place. “We’ll make sure you’re plenty prepared.”

  There was my opening. I was unsure about the job before, but walking into this apartment and having Landon tear up the job offer made the feeling worse. This was my chance to get the details. “For what, exactly?”

  “We need you to be the public face of our client.”

  I blinked dumbly. Never in a million years would that have been the answer I was expecting. “So, you’re not with Rubix Publishing?” I thought of the undecorated conference room and the empty lobby yesterday and swallowed heavily. What had I gotten myself into?

  Landon shrugged, as if this entire set-up was completely normal. “We’re working with them. Our client is an author.”

  I ran my fingers through my hair slowly, stopping to scratch the back of my head. “And you want me to...what exactly? What do you mean by the ‘public face’ of the author?”

  “Be him. In public, at any rate. Go to events, do interviews, sign autographs, schmooze the fans. That kind of thing.” Landon lifted his brows as if this should have been self-explanatory.

  “You’d kind of be like an actor.” Eli was once again wearing his wide smile. “It’ll be fun!”

  I sank down into one of the leather chairs flanking the couch on which Landon was sprawled. “Why wouldn’t you just hire an actual actor then? I have no experience with that kind of thing.” The words flipped out of my mouth. I wanted to call them back. I needed this job, even if it was much more bizarre than I thought when I got the callback.

&n
bsp; Eli sat in the chair opposite me and straightened the seam of his slacks. “We needed someone who wasn’t an actor. Actors go to school for acting. They audition for shows. They have an agent and send out headshots and do demo reels and have a web presence. Even unknown actors are easy to ferret out as actors. We can’t have that.”

  “You, on the other hand,” Landon piped in, “don’t even have a Facebook page. Of all the hits that come up for ‘Liam Collins,’ there are only a few references to your debate wins, and exactly one photo. A grainy black-and-white from your junior year of high school. You’re a nobody.”

  Eli cut in quickly. “What Landon means is that you’re uniquely qualified for this particular position. You’re good looking, well spoken, have experience speaking in front of crowds, and no one outside of your very small town is likely to recognize you. It’s a perfect match for us.”

  Again, I couldn’t argue with Eli’s assessment. My heartbeat had slowed to a more regular pace now, and I slid my gaze back and forth between the two men. Now that I knew what the job was, could I do it?

  I was willing to scrub toilets and this sounded infinitely better. And Eli was right. Back when I was in high school, I’d gone to national debates, some of which had been locally televised. I wasn’t intimidated by the idea of crowds.

  “Okay. I think I can do that. I mean, a few interviews and public appearances pretending to be someone else doesn’t sound too bad.” I doubted it would require that much time, even. The author I was going to impersonate couldn’t be all that big, or there was no way he wouldn’t have been out in public already.

  Landon shifted on the couch, uncrossing his legs and leaning forward. “You’ll need to stay here, of course.” He placed his elbows on his knees and his hands came together as if he was praying. “That way we can make sure you’re prepared. And if someone goes snooping through public records, this residence is in our client’s name already.” His fingers brushed the bottom of his chin. “Plus, there’s the matter of security. Once your face is out there, you’ll have to deal with fans. And some of those girls can get crazy.”

  My jaw was getting quite the workout dropping. Live here, in the ultra-modern apartment that reeked of wealth and had a view of Central Park? “Wait, I can’t move in here! I already have an apartment.”

  Landon sniffed. “You have a shoebox. Hardly the residence of a successful novelist. And we need to be able to control where you go, and when, and who you talk to. We’re paying you for your face. Where you choose to parade it is our business, and we can’t have you showing it around the slums.”

  My spine stiffened. My apartment was not in the slums. It wasn’t the nicest place ever, but he didn’t have to be a dick about it. Not to mention it sounded like they wanted to be in charge of a whole lot more than just a few public appearances.

  I gritted my teeth. “That’s crazy! Are you saying I can’t go anywhere without permission? Like I’m under house arrest?”

  Landon shrugged like it was a minor inconvenience. Eli raised his hands, teeth flashing as his grin grew even wider. “Hold on a minute, let’s not get ahead of ourselves now. As part of your compensation for the job we’re asking you to do, we’re providing you with a place of residence that’s more in line with your assumed persona, that’s all. This place is amazing, I assure you! Look around!”

  He flourished one hand, indicating the wealth around us. “There’s plenty to do here. There’s a gym, a library, a media room, and a garden on the roof. And if you want anything, all you’ll have to do is ask Landon.” Eli saw both of us grimace slightly and hurried on. “Or me! We’ll see to it that you have anything you could need. Plus, Landon wasn’t lying about security. We do need to keep this confidential, Liam. That is part of the deal. But is that really so bad? For all we’re offering in return?”

  I took a deep breath. Was it? What they were asking for was a lot. Complete control over where I went and when, and who I talked to. Not that I had much contact with anyone from back home. And I hadn’t really made any friends yet in the city.

  My eyes scanned the thick gray carpet under my feet, the beautiful and no doubt expensive art decorating the walls. Could I do it? Pretend to be someone I wasn’t day in and day out while being constantly expected to live up to someone else’s rules and expectations? I almost laughed. I was better suited for this job than even Eli realized.

  I’d trained for this job practically my whole life. And I hadn’t gotten paid, nor had a swanky apartment either. Plus, I’d be saving money not paying rent. Landon and Eli hadn’t talked salary yet, but for what they were asking I was probably going to be decently compensated.

  Speaking of finances, I couldn’t help but recall the ever-shrinking amount of my bank balance. Without this job, how much time did I have before I was in seriously dire straits? Maybe two months, if I didn’t eat.

  “You’re not going to get another offer like this, Mr. Collins. This city eats farm boys like you for breakfast. And with your résumé...” He didn’t bother finishing his sentence as he coughed to cover his version of laughter. It was abundantly clear to everyone in the room that my lack of skills and verifiable job experience made finding any job an uphill battle…to put it nicely.

  When my money ran out, I was on my own. Even if my old man was willing to help me out, and he wasn’t, my parents didn’t have any money to spare either.

  “Yeah, maybe it’ll be fine.” I smiled, not sure if I was reassuring them or myself. As I leaned back in the leather chair and felt it cradle my frame like a glove, it did occur to me that there were some serious perks to the position. “No one back home would ever believe I’d be living in a place like this,” I said with a chuckle.

  Landon’s cool eyes narrowed. “Let me be entirely clear, Mr. Collins. Your discretion is imperative to this position. Should you violate that, the repercussions will be very unpleasant. Between our client and Rubix Publishing, we have a very far reach. Is that understood?”

  “Yeah, of course. Don’t worry. I know how to keep a secret.” That was an understatement. I wondered briefly if I should say something, but the thought tied my tongue in a knot, and after a moment it occurred to me that they were going to be paying me for my public life...not my private one.

  “Of course you do.” Eli reached over and patted my knee in a calm adult manner, grinning at me as if I was his favorite nephew. “And I’m sure you understand that we can’t put any of this on paper. Tabloid reporters can be...very persistent. You’ll live here and everything you need will be provided for you. You won’t receive a paycheck, but should you need funds, they will be available to you.”

  I stared at the grinning man, trying to imagine the kind of life he was describing. When he said they could provide anything I asked for, I didn’t doubt it. I mean, I knew I couldn’t demand like...a Maserati or something ridiculous. Could I?

  It occurred to me that it all depended on who I was supposed to be.

  “So...who am I supposed to impersonate?”

  “Me.”

  A tingle ran up the back of my neck, the hair there standing at attention, a moment before the deep voice spoke from behind me.

  Chapter 4

  Eli smiled at the man behind me. I jumped to my feet in surprise. Goosebumps broke out on my forearms. I wanted to turn and look, to see the man who matched that rich, dark voice, but I couldn’t. There was something about his voice that was intimidating.

  He stepped around in front of me and peered at me closely – curiously even. His movements were clipped and precise, as if expecting me to see him and run for it.

  It was difficult not to notice the scar. It was slightly puckered, white and red against his otherwise tan face. Beginning just around one brilliant blue eye, it spread down his cheek onto his neck and disappeared beneath the collar of his plain black dress shirt.

  But as striking as the sight of the scar was, it wasn’t the most eye-catching thing about the guy. I might be boy-next-door handsome, as Eli had described,
but the guy in front of me could easily pass for a model...even with the scar.

  His hair was so dark brown it looked black in the low morning light, and fell over his broad forehead in carelessly messy locks. High cheekbones, sweeping gull-wing brows, and long, thick lashes framed bright blue eyes. Not icy blue like Landon’s. Hot blue, like the heart of a flame. Fuck, he was good looking.

  His nose was thin and aristocratic, giving him a bit of a haughty look, and his mouth was sculpted and mobile, twisted into a smirk of dark amusement. His lips were tinged faintly red. Seeing someone so handsome like that up close was like something out of the Twilight Zone. Unreal.

  He was wearing a pair of casual tennis shoes that were less scuffed than my dress shoes, but the dark blue jeans encasing his long legs were worn. And not in the way that some expensive jeans were when you bought them – if you had the money – but in that ‘I’ve been wearing these forever because they’re my favorite pair’ kind of way. I couldn’t blame him. They hugged him loosely, like a caressing hand.