CHASE (The Heartbreak Club Book 1)

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CHASE (The Heartbreak Club Book 1) Page 12

by Elle Harte


  “A company that doesn’t need someone with experience? How’s that even possible?”

  “I’m pretty sure they are paying less than market price,” she said. “That’s why they’re asking for fresh young talent.”

  “Yep. Every time someone says fresh young talent and hiring in one line you should just assume they’re cheap.”

  “Either way, its work, right? That’s what you said you needed?”

  “Of course, Chloe,” I said. “I’m still allowed to make jokes about it, though.”

  “Who knows you might actually end up enjoying it.”

  “What if I suck?” I asked the obvious question.

  “Then they will fire you,” she said. “Big deal. No one’s hiring you anyway and your resume is pretty shitty as it is.”

  I grinned because she was not wrong. I’ve been known to have brief moments of bad decision-making in the past. Okay, so who am I kidding, most of my life is bad decision-making, but when it’s on the resume it’s there for life.

  “I already got you an appointment with her on Tuesday,” Chloe said. “Ten. Sharp.”

  Chloe was right.

  I didn’t want the ice cream quite as badly as I did before.

  Chase

  Stefan wanted to take me to the sex club again. I hadn’t been there in ages, and everything was new to me but the familiarity set in when I heard the beats playing on the stereo and they were loud.

  I loved the music in here.

  You could lose yourself in it.

  But eventually something always stole you away. This time it was our friend Jonah. I could see him loosening his tie, downing his fourth martini, and getting a lap dance from a woman dressed in nothing but a leather harness. “Chase!” Jonah yelled to be heard over the music. “Are you here to have fun or sit around?”

  “Sit around,” I yelled back.

  “Pussy!” he said and laughed.

  As though some stupid line like that could make me do what he wanted me to do. But I suppose Jonah was right to be annoyed. This wasn’t some ordinary strip club, it was a sex club. People didn’t come here to have drinks and watch others get lap dances; they came here to do what their desires drove them to do.

  My other friend Connor, who had just come back from one of the rooms, turned to me. “Did you know Sydney started working here again?”

  “I did not.”

  “I just saw her when I was going to my room,” Connor said. “She was asking about you.”

  I didn’t know what to say to that. “Thanks for letting me know.”

  “Chase?” I heard a female voice and knew instantly who it belonged to.

  “Sydney,” I said, turning toward her. She looked gorgeous in a skimpy corset that clung to her body. Her blonde wig accentuated her features, not that her actual brunette hair did not. “Hi.”

  “Long time,” she said.

  “Yes,” I smiled awkwardly.

  After a bit of a pause, Sydney leaned in closer. “Can I talk to you?”

  I looked at her face, loaded with makeup and the reddest lipstick that ever existed adorned her lips. I smiled again, a little less awkwardly this time. “Sure,” I said and got up to go with her.

  She led me outside the dance area, until we could only hear muffled beats. She took me to the upstairs floor. We were standing in an area where there were rooms all in a line. We stood in the hallway and talked in hushed voices because we didn’t want to disturb the people inside. Sydney looked a little rattled. I noticed that from the beginning but I wanted her to tell me whatever was bothering her.

  “I missed you,” she said.

  “Sydney—”

  “It’s okay, you don’t have to say it back.”

  “Why did you bring me here?”

  “The thing you hired me for,” Sydney said. “I wanted to thank you for that. I was really in need of money back then. Your check was a big help.”

  “You can always come to me for money.”

  “I prefer earning my cash.”

  “I know.”

  “I just wanted to know if it worked.”

  I was facing some new emotions, things that I hadn’t wanted to think about were finally standing right in front of me. Decisions I’d made, that I should have regretted but I didn’t. Still, it was a little unnerving to think about what might have happened if I hadn’t taken those steps.

  “It worked.”

  “Good. So, you’re with someone?”

  “It’s complicated.”

  She smiled. “Isn’t it always?”

  “I guess.”

  “Are you here for someone?”

  “I’m just here for the drinks,” I said.

  “No one comes here for the drinks, Chase.”

  “I just wanted to hang out with some friends,’ I explained. “They wanted me here as punishment, I think. Just to play with me. Kind of an inside joke.”

  “If you’re here, maybe you’d like to go to the rooms…”

  “No… no thanks.”

  “Suit yourself,” she said, and kissed me on the cheek. “It was nice running into you.”

  “Same here.”

  When she left, I was finally able to go back to the guys. “That Sydney must be a lot of fun in bed,” Connor said the moment I claimed a seat on our booth. “Maybe I could hire her next.”

  “She’s not going to come to you,” Jonah said. “Everyone knows Sydney has the hots for Cooper!”

  “Jonah, please…” I tried to get him to stop but he wouldn’t stop teasing me.

  “Oh, come on,” he said. “Admit it! You make them fall in love with you and then you break their hearts. That’s your M.O. isn’t it?”

  His words made me outraged and I wanted nothing more than to shut him up, but then I realized I couldn’t shut up every person who thought that way. My reputation was what it was, I couldn’t change it. It was too late. If they thought I was some man-whore with zero attachments then I should just let them think that way.

  No one cared about the truth.

  I watched Sydney walking past our table to go to the men on another booth. They smiled at each other and then Sydney sat with them, started drinking with all three. I should have felt something at this, but I felt nothing for her anymore. And that was a good thing, I told myself.

  It was a very good thing.

  Because what I really wanted, was to have Blayne here with me. That was the only thing that made sense anymore. But she didn’t even know I had all these feelings about her. She didn’t want anything to do with me.

  I needed to show her somehow, that I wanted her not because of some temporary attraction but because I knew who she was, and I knew she was perfect for me. But I had to stop thinking that way because she would not care for me much when she found out who I was, that I frequented sex clubs. It was a secret I hadn’t even confided about in most friends, let alone a girlfriend. Even if we did end up going out at some point, there was no way I could tell her about all this. She would end up hating me and that was the last thing I wanted.

  Chase

  “Kira?” I called out, leaving my luggage by the door, and entering the loft. It smelled different. I had barely walked over to the breakfast bar when a young guy who looked about eighteen, in a black tank top and ripped jeans ran into me. He was carrying a backpack and he looked me over. I tried to shelve out a smile but I was certain it must have come out as forced as it felt. “You must be a friend of Kira’s,” I tried to push my anger down as deep as it would go.

  He winked at me and without a reply, traipsed out the door. I walked to my room, and noticed that Kira had taken possession of it and it smelled even worse. “What the hell have you two been doing in here?” I said, taking off my suit jacket and placing it on the bed.

  Kira sat rubbing the sleep out of her eyes to one side, dressed in a skimpy camisole and a pair of dangerously low-hanging jeans. “You really want to know?”

  I noticed the multiple empty condom wrappers on the grou
nd. “I guess not,” I said, realizing my maid was going to have a hell of time in here. I went to the wardrobe to get myself a pair of lounge pants and a t-shirt to go with it. But before I could head to the bathroom, I saw something on the nightstand. It was a tiny plastic bag with some sort of pills inside. I held it up for Kira to see. “Would you mind explaining this?” I asked, my anger levels already reaching higher frequencies as I tried to think of the excuses she was about to give to me.

  Kira looked suddenly wide awake. “That’s not mine,” she said.

  “Kira. This is not a drug den. This is my home!”

  “Look I tried maybe one or two. But it’s really not mine.”

  I knew that was as close to a confession as I was going to get. “We were partying,” she said. “Not like this is routine or anything.”

  “I hope not,” I said, heading to the bathroom.

  “Can I get that stuff back?” Kira asked as I opened the bathroom door.

  “Absolutely not,” I said. “You don’t think I’m that stupid, do you?”

  “Look, if he comes back for it—”

  “Tell him to go to go fuck himself!” I snapped, almost turned on the shower and then peeked out. “This is not over, Kira.”

  Blayne

  Your fight or flight response determines who you will be in life.

  Interviews.

  Dreaded, unrealistic monologues which tend to become torture. Who said interviews were supposed to be the way to get hired? If your job description has nothing to do with facing people, or being confident with them, why is it that they put you through the whole ordeal of appearing as someone you’re not?

  They felt to me like one of those sick, twisted ways of making a person suffer just because you can. I had never been fond of them. They made me nervous and revealed my worst. There was always some snobby jerk sitting in front of you acting like they own the world and you were supposed to just suddenly have a personality that pleases three or however many different people they have in front of you, and you were supposed to talk about stupid things. You speak of your qualities and do it so you’re not overbearing, and hide your weaknesses and still come across as honest. I realized with disdain that I had probably been waiting in the lobby for too long, because I made the mistake of appearing an hour early.

  I was supposed to be a lawyer but even I had trouble coming up with politically-correct lies the entire length of an interview. But I was becoming rather fond of this interviewer. Brenda Sorkin wasn’t like the other interviewers I have had the displeasure of knowing. The offices of Corporate Alliances were located in a Manhattan high rise and the place was relatively new. Brenda, although as sharply dressed and professional as everyone else at their firm, was helpful and pleasant. She didn’t ask any of the usual questions and if she did they didn’t sound like The Spanish Inquisition coming from her. She had to be in her forties, and was so incredibly calm and positive a person that I literally had to pinch myself to remind me that this was really happening.

  She told me they needed fresh people they could train to suit their brand. The money was less but it certainly wasn’t too bad for me, considering the job would only be for twelve months. At the end of it all, she told me what they expected from me and I told them about my concerns. Then Brenda explained that she wanted me to begin working Monday, so I had about five days to prepare. She handed me a thick folder, consisting of important information on their previous campaigns, and it explained what my job required from me. I thanked her and told her I would be there Monday and she looked glad to hear it. When I came out, I stopped for coffee and called Chloe.

  “I got it,” I said the minute she answered. “I got the job, Chloe! I’m supposed to start Monday.”

  “You sound excited which means it went well. Liked the place?”

  “I loved the place and I like Brenda,” I said. “She’s sweet and so different from anyone who’s ever interviewed me. I didn’t even feel nervous once she started talking.”

  “A lot of bosses are genial until you start working for them. Don’t count your eggs before they hatch, baby.”

  “A little excitement can’t hurt. You know how much I need it.”

  “Tell you what,” Chloe said. “Your last few days as a free person, let’s celebrate and make the most of it. Then you will be bound by a contract just like the rest of us minions.”

  Chloe and her odd thoughts. She truly believes she knows how to correct the world.

  “I would love to celebrate however and whenever you want.”

  Something told me this was going to be the start of a new life.

  Chase

  The whole thing with Kira was giving me a headache. She had barely spoken two words the past week and she was either out of the house all the time or on the couch, sleeping. I knew something was wrong but she wouldn’t tell me and I feared if I spoke too harshly or kept staying mad at her, she would retreat even further into whatever dark hole it was that she stayed locked in. But the day wasn’t over yet. I still had hours of tiring work ahead of me.

  “Sir?” the assistant knocked on the door to my office.

  I looked up. There was so much work to do; I didn’t really appreciate her interruption.

  “Sir, the new hires start work today,” she said.

  “So?”

  “So, you said to inform you—”

  “Thanks.”

  “Would you like to meet them?”

  “I’m sure Brenda can handle it,” I said, getting back to the files that I swear were staring back at me.

  Blayne

  The only thing that stands between you and life is your doubt.

  First day of work was interesting.

  People at the new workplace all were amiable. Okay fine so every workplace experience starts out that way I guess, but I was happy to have found this job. They gave me a cubicle, but I wasn’t there much the first day. Instead, we were all taken to the training room, where the eight of us new hires were supposed to learn what our jobs were going to be.

  They were developing a new campaign and the work was more than just legal research as it turns out. They asked us to be discreet about whatever went on in the office, and we had to sign a waiver at one point. I felt pumped and it was great that I was with people who were trying to teach me something.

  Over lunch, I even managed to become friends with a gay guy named Tristan and a girl called Alex, both had been friends for years. Tristan was in his thirties, and had that funky, multicolored hair which I suppose was okay for him to have even in such a formal workplace, because he was a graphics artist. Alex had an eyebrow piercing, but overall, she looked rather regular, and she was wearing regular work clothes.

  “I’ve heard the boss is hot,” Tristan said over lunch break.

  “Bosses can be hot because they have the money to make it happen. Big deal,” said Alex and I realized that she was a lot like Chloe, girl power and anti-everything, but only in theory. In reality, they were both gigantic softies.

  “I thought Brenda is good-natured,” I said, just to take part in their conversation so I would not look like I was from some other planet. Already a work environment was alien to me.

  “Wait till she turns on bitch mode,” Alex told me. “I’ve heard plenty of stories about her.”

  I wondered for a second where it was that they had heard so many stories about a workplace they’d just joined, but then I decided I probably didn’t want to know.

  “Heard the same kind of things about the boss,” Tristan said. “He’s hot but he’s an asshole, according to my sources,” he placed a hand over mine, “so please be careful sweetheart.”

  He was looking at me when he said this.

  “Me?” I asked. “Why me?”

  “You know because you’re one of the softies,” Tristan explained. “I can tell.”

  “This is probably your first time working, isn’t it?” Alex said, but then, without waiting for my response, continued to speak. “You’ll get the
hang of it. But until then, if someone is being good to you, just assume they have ulterior motives. And if someone tries to be too much of an asshole, ignore it. Listen and ignore. You don’t want to lose this job, so you need to keep that in mind. If you have any problems come to us. You want to vent, you want to talk it out with someone, let us hear it. No judgment.”

  I didn’t know if this was something they were doing out of mere politeness or they saw something in my attitude that made them think I needed assistance.

  I was just glad I had someone trying to be friendly to me without my having to do anything about it. Tristan gave me some more of these chunks of workplace wisdom, things that he thought I needed to remember, and we got up when the break was over and headed toward the training room, bags, and materials in hand.

  I was trying to locate a pen from the contents of my bag before I stepped in the training room, but finding that one little pen was turning out to be impossible because of all the clutter.

  When I finally found one, I felt a sense of relief.

  Pen in hand, I had barely stepped toward the training room door when I got a whiff of someone’s cologne. I didn’t know what it was, but I knew it from somewhere. I knew the feeling that scent had given me before. So, I turned to find out who was wearing it, and everything just froze in time for that moment, like one of those slow-motion scenes in movies—

  There he was.

  Big blue eyes fixated on the person that he was talking to, hair set perfectly, and only a hint of that gorgeous smile—there was no mistaking that he was indeed the one who owned the place.

  I’ve heard the boss is hot.

  Of course, he’s hot.

  He’s Chase-fucking-Cooper!

  Before I could walk away unnoticed, he saw me, standing there like a dolt. He was quick to give me a smile. “Hey,” he said, and it occurred to me the asshole must have a ton of practice bringing smiles that didn’t belong. “Blayne, right?”

 

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