by Jo Frances
He felt someone slip their hand into his and pull him towards the dance floor. A lithe, exotic looking girl with almond shaped eyes was attached to that hand. “American?” she asked. He nodded. They were now joined by another girl who was wearing only a bikini top and tiny shorts. The first gave a short smug nod to her friend. Chase wasn’t sure whether being an American was a good or bad thing in their eyes, but judging from how they began gyrating against him, he figured it couldn’t have been that bad.
Chase danced with them until he broke off to get a drink. He had been to lots of clubs before but not like this. It was as if every beautiful person under the age of 25 had descended on Ibiza. He had enough practice with the women who hung at all the players’ clubs to pick out a couple of pros, but for the most part, he imagined the people here were just like the teen-aged Rodrigo. Rich, young and without a care in the world.
He took a long swallow of his beer and circled the dance floor until a girl dancing by herself caught his eye. Tall, slim hipped, with hair that fell in waves down her shoulders, Chase was about to strike when a girl stepped in front of him. “No, no, no, no, no,” she said, turning him away.
“Hey, come on now---” he protested, then stopped. The girl in front of him was a model who worked at the same agency as Jamie. She recognized him as well.
“You used to go out with, umm, Jenny, right?”
Chase marveled at the cattiness of the girls in the modeling industry, and surprisingly, it was worse among the ones at the top . Not satisfied with the six figure income they derived just for being beautiful, they, like Snow White’s step-mother had to constantly be assured that they were the fairest of them all.
“Jamie.” He said, irritated. “ I used to go out with Jamie Cameron.”
“Oh, that’s right.” She held out her hand. “I’m Larissa.”
Chase decided to give her a taste of her own medicine. Touching her hand briefly, he asked “Melissa?”
Falling for it, she repeated, “no, LA-rissa” before catching on. Larissa pushed her lips into a pout. “Well that’s not very nice. I mean I just saved you.”
“You saved me, huh?” he asked doubtfully. “From what?”
“From hooking up with a dude!” Clarissa paused for effect. “I mean, unless that’s what you’re into.”
Her obnoxious behavior immediately forgotten, Chase whipped his head towards the dance floor. “No fucking way!” It wasn’t obvious at first, but once it was pointed out to him, he realized all the signs were there.
Larissa laughed, revealing a set of perfect straight white teeth. “See?” She pressed against him, and Chase shrugged. Larissa was beautiful, but she had the type of features that seemed almost alien up close. Her eyes were large and wide set, her cheekbones so angular it looked like she was sucking her cheeks in and her lips were almost pornographically full. He knew that these exaggerated features were somehow softened in print, turning striking girls into beauties. “Come on, let’s dance. It’s hard enough to talk to anyone here, let alone someone who doesn’t speak English that well.” Chase was about to remind her that she was in another country, before he decided to let it go. He wanted to get laid tonight, and Larissa looked like she wouldn’t disappoint.
Chapter Sixteen
Chase
By the time Chase stumbled back into the Betancourt’s villa, he had not only been with Larissa (a screamer whose fake cries of ecstasy could be heard all over the beach), but four hours after he dusted the sand from his shorts, he found himself on a yacht bending a most willing woman over her dresser, against the wall, and everywhere else on that boat for what seemed like hours. Already spent, he was having a hard time climaxing until she took matters into her own hands… and mouth… to show him how grateful she was for her multiple orgasms.
Afterwards he placed her in her bed purring contentedly as he made his escape. “Did you enjoy my wife?” a voice asked behind him. Chase turned to see an old man in a paisley robe coming out of one of the staterooms, and decided not to answer. The old man waved his hand dismissively. “Oh, it’s alright. She likes them young and big, which as you can tell, I am not.” Before Chase could feel too bad, they were met by another man coming downstairs from the deck, wearing a matching robe. “Um, yeah, she was great. Thanks for your hospitality.” As both men laughed, Chase headed towards the stairs and walked off the deck, already thinking about how he would tell this story to his teammates.
Beno let him in the house without a word, with only the slightest smile to give away what he thought. He followed Chase into his room, then turned on the shower for him. He pointed out the stash of thick white towels next to the tub, and at the toothbrush on the shelf before closing the door quietly behind him.
When Chase got out of the shower, Claudia was now in his room, setting down a tray that contained a tall glass of orange juice, a pitcher of water, aspirin and a few rolls of still warm pan de leche in a basket. He fell on the bread hungrily, smearing it with the butter and jelly from the crocks also on the tray. Claudia stood wordlessly by while he ate, watching him with a patient expression. He ate the whole basket in minutes, then gulped down the orange juice. Claudia opened the bottle of aspirin and dropped two pills into his open palm. She watched as he took them with a glass of water, then watched as he crawled into bed. By the time she packed up and took the tray, Chase was into a deep, contented sleep.
He woke up to a soft tapping on his door. “Come in,” he mumbled, still under the covers.
Shelby came in, wearing a beach cover-up and carrying a large hat. “Hello, sleepy head,” her voice was warm and motherly. “How are you feeling?”
He struggled to sit up. “Hey,” he said, rubbing his eyes. “I’m good, I’m good. What time is it?”
“Four o’clock.”
“Oh man. I’ve been asleep for, like---well I guess it hasn’t been that long.”
“Exactly. Rodrigo wanted me to wake you. He didn’t want you to go this long without eating or having some water. So I thought since you were up, we’d see if you wanted to go to the beach with us. Everyone else went into town.”
Chase became convinced that Spanish aspirin, or whatever it was that Claudia gave him, worked miracles on hangovers. After throwing on some clothes and grabbing a handful of the small apples on the counter, he was bouncing along in the back seat of Rodrigo’s car, not feeling the effects of the night before.
As Rodrigo squeezed the car into a tiny space smashed up against a rock wall, Chase noticed that many people, like them, were just getting there. “It’s kinda late to be going to the beach, isn’t it?” he asked Shelby.
She nodded her head. “Yes! I thought that too! I mean, in L.A., or Florida where you’re from, everyone gets to the beach early, right?”
Rodrigo turned off the car engine. “Well, that’s OK, but what WE Europeans don’t understand is why you would stay outside in the middle of the day when it’s the hottest.” They climbed out on his side, laughing as they pulled Chase out of the back of the car by his arms. “In the cities, people take a siesta when the sun is at it’s hottest---and people are indoors! But you Americans and Germans too, just stay on the beach baking like… jamon.” Rodrigo snapped his fingers, as if realizing the point that would win him the argument. “The worst is when we went to Las Vegas! Remember, Shelby? It’s the desert, but you couldn’t find a place to move by the pool.”
Chase raised his eyebrows comically while Shelby gave her husband a kiss on the cheek. “Most of us weren’t lucky enough to be born where the sun shines all the time, sweetheart, so we don’t want to give up a minute of it,” she told him soothingly.
“On that note… you guys stay here.” Rodrigo walked towards one of the restaurants. “He’s getting us a sun chair with an umbrella, ,” Shelby explained.
Chase looked around him. The beach was not especially pretty, the way beaches in Hawaii were pretty. This lo
oked more like a Malibu beach, a small inlet flanked by a highway and surrounded by hills, but he knew it was the place to be. In the few minutes since he had been here, he saw two footballers already, and he was gratified to see that they recognized him too, with a small nod. “What’s the name of this place?” he asked.
“Las Salinas,” Shelby answered. She spotted Rodrigo ahead, with a waiter (who already had a tray of their drinks) leading him to their spots. “Perfect! Let’s hang out here until it gets dark, then meet the rest of the group in town for tapas. Do you feel like going out again---later?” she asked with an indulgent smile.
“Of course he does!” Rodrigo answered for him. “He’s a twenty two year old professional athlete on vacation in Ibiza! What do you think he wants to do, stay home and read a book?”
Chase held up his hand for a high five. “Thank you, Rodrigo! You know, I never wanted an older brother before, but you really make me feel like I missed out.”
Rodrigo reached over and slapped palms. “No, thank you, Chase, that’s a very nice thing to say.” He paused, as if considering whether the timing was right. Then: “but what you said when we got here. You miss your home, don’t you?”
Shelby came and sat next to her husband, and they both waited for Chase to respond.
“I miss my house in L.A., and I miss my girlfriend,” he answered. “I think I’ve pretty much gotten everything back. I’ve gotten basketball back, I’m even getting my money back---and I didn’t really lose my house, but I think my girl is gone.” He looked at them, trying to figure out how much they knew.
“So you never told her why you had to break contact with her?” With that question, Rodrigo let him know that they knew everything. Chase was curious whether Steve Green had told him, or whether Rodrigo had found out on his own. It didn’t matter. He was relieved that they had no secrets between them.
“No, because then I would be discussing the case. And I wanted her to be able to tell any investigator that she knew nothing about what happened, that I told her nothing, and have that be absolutely true.”
“Do you know if they interviewed her anyway?” Shelby asked.
Chase shook his head. “Not according to my lawyers---I mean, the government would have had to give us the transcript of the interview, and there was none. I think they didn’t do it initially because they were hoping to trap me into contacting her in the middle of everything, and then they could bring her in and find out what I told her.”
Rodrigo made a sound of disgust. “You are too generous. They didn’t need to interview her. I’m sure her house and phones were tapped. All they needed was for you to talk to her. They were either going to get you on tape confessing what you did, or they were going to get the names of the people involved.”
“Then I’m glad I stayed away,” Chase knew what Rodrigo said was right. “It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done, though.”
Shelby walked over and hugged him as she said, “But then, I just think about the chain of events that led us to being at this moment, and it all seems so incredible, but somehow it makes sense. Like, you started going out with Amy, and you never would have done that unless… unless you had to. And we never would have asked Amy to bring you over if it hadn’t been for Liam. Then your agent was shopping you around, and Rodrigo’s father offered you a contract without knowing that we were already friends---there’s a certain element of fate in this, don’t you think?”
Chase couldn’t believe what he just heard. “Wait. Hold on. You asked Amy to bring me over?”
Shelby and Rodrigo exchanged looks as only a husband and wife could---a silent conversation taking place with one glance. Shelby spoke. “It was Liam’s birthday, remember?”
The pieces were slowly falling into place. “Of course. But---I thought it was a dinner party?”
“To celebrate Liam’s birthday.” she said patiently. “And we thought you being there would make it really special for him. Amy was a casual friend, so I asked if she would mind bringing you over.”
Chase tried to clear his head. “No, um, Amy didn’t tell me. I thought I was just her date.”
This time it was the Betancourt’s who looked surprised. “But you were so nice to Liam!” Rodrigo said. “you spent that time going over his trading cards----”
“That was just Liam, man.” Chase smiled. “I wanted to hang out with the little dude.”
The three of them sat in silence as each absorbed the piece of the puzzle they hadn’t known about. For Chase, it was the thought that Amy had produced him like a hired entertainer for their party. For the Betancourt’s, it was knowing that Chase had been genuine with them from the beginning. Finally, Shelby stood up and handed them their drinks from the tray.. “To the little man who was wise enough to be friends with Chase first,” she said lifting her glass. At the thought of Liam, a joyful feeling went through Chase. “To Liam,” he said, raising his glass high.
Chapter Sixteen
Jamie
Jamie had a plan, and she was discussing it with her mother over the phone. She had an upcoming trip to Paris coming up, so why not take a flight to Madrid from Paris?
“But what are you going to do once you get there?” her mother asked.
“I don’t know---it’s only an hour and a half. That’s like flying from New York to D.C., and I’ve done that for Adam, so I don’t know why I shouldn’t do that for Chase?”
“Oh Jamie.” Her mother sounded worried. “Do you really think that’s a good idea? And besides, you still haven’t answered my question. What are you going to do once you’re there? You don’t have Chase’s address or anything, right?”
She knew her mother wasn’t trying to hurt her, but the truth still stung. Chase didn’t keep as much as an email address from his previous life. “Well, I do know what team he plays for, and I know their schedule----”
“So you’re just going to show up at a game?” Frances Cameron sounded shocked that her own daughter would be so aggressive.
“Mom, I know it’s stalkerish,” she said, then pointedly ignored her mother’s little snort of disbelief. “But if I’m going to move on, then I have to know.”
“Honey, he’s made it clear he doesn’t want any contact. Isn’t that your answer right there?” As usual, her mother was both practical and wise.
“This isn’t about him, mom. It’s about me. I have to see him. And that will tell me whether Adam is just someone I’m trying to forget Chase with, or whether I can start thinking about a future with Adam.”
Frances sounded surprised. “Are things that serious with Adam? Already?”
“No, mom! He didn’t propose or anything, but we talked about a future together.”
“And that’s something you want?”
“Being with him is like being with someone I’ve known all my life, mom.”
“That sounds like a good start,” her mother conceded.
“He just wants me to be sure, and I think I definitely owe him that.”
“That certainly seems reasonable. So now what?”
The next part of her plan involved calling her old college roommate, Jenna Martinez. In the two years since they had shared a dorm room together, Jenna had fulfilled many of the goals she had set for herself. She was on track to graduate at the top of her class and had spent her off-time acquiring an impressive resume of jobs and internships. Their friendship had begun back then, when they had been so close they were given their own name like a celebrity couple: the JJ’s.
Now Jamie had to convince her to take a week off from school.
After catching up on what they had been doing that past week, Jamie asked if Jenna would be interested in an all-expense paid trip to Spain. There was a long silence on the phone before Jenna asked, “Spain, huh? As in Madrid, Spain?.”
“It’ll be fun! Remember when you visited me in New York? You can really help me si
nce you speak fluent Spanish! And we can bring back JJ!”
Jenna sighed, not buying it. “You would make a terrible actress, Jamie. Maybe you’d better tell me what’s going on. Did Chase call you?”
“Well, no, but---” So Jamie laid out her plan, which included sightseeing, shopping and an opportunity for Jenna to learn more about Spanish culture. Which Jenna then summarized as, “so basically, we’re going to go to Spain to watch a basketball game. Tell me how you’re going to be different from any other woman, here OR in Europe that wants to meet a basketball player.”
“Jenna, did you know that’s how I met Chase?” Jamie reminded her that their second week of Freshman year, she had waited outside the men’s locker room to talk to her brother. Chase was one of the guys who came through those doors with him that day. “… so you see, it has to work!”
Jenna remained unconvinced. “Those dates are kind of bad for me… can we go another time?”
Desperate, Jamie told her the rest of the story---about how Adam knew she wasn’t over Chase yet, and for both of their sakes, she had to get closure, one way or another. “And this isn’t about Chase ‘giving’ me closure, or anything like that. I have to know how I feel. And the only way for me to do that is to see him in person.”
“What do you think you’ll feel?”
“If I see him and feel sad, like he’s someone I miss, then I’ll know it’s over.”
“And the other possibility?”
“If I see him and,” Jamie took a deep breath. “break down like I did the day I knew he cut me out of his life…” she broke off. “I need you there, Jenna. Please.”
True to her word, Jamie made sure that Jenna’s first trip to Spain was a good one. They went sightseeing, shopping and museum hopping. It was almost enough to pretend that they were just two college roommates on a European vacation.
