by Cassia Leo
“I’ll be back for you very soon.”
“You said you wouldn’t let them hurt me. What happened? What changed in the last twenty minutes?”
He glanced at my feet for a moment before he slipped his phone out of his pocket. He played a video of the two of us together in the hotel room last night, which appeared to have been taken from the hotel across the street.
“Teddy got this earlier, when we were making love,” he said, the muscle in his jaw twitching as he stood.
“So this is plan B? Parade me in front of a horde of reporters then send me away to some remote cabin in Montana for six months. And I’m supposed to just wait for you?”
“Not six months.”
“Then how long?”
“Three or four months tops. We need to at least wait until a few weeks after the inauguration… for things to die down.”
Drew stepped forward. “Sir, the chopper’s here.”
I shook my head as I realized the chopper was there for me. “I can’t believe this.”
Chase squeezed my hand as he looked me in the eye. “Please let me put this ring on you.”
“Do I even have a choice or is this some kind of mandatory witness protection program?”
“Of course, you have a choice,” he replied with a glance at the ring.
I looked into his dark eyes, searching for a trace of deceit. Had I been wrong about him all along? Was this all a ploy to keep me loyal to him while I was in hiding?
No. He wasn’t lying. We were both being tossed by this violent ocean of lies—lies we had both told. Lies we had told ourselves.
Drew cleared his throat. “Sir?”
“Just a minute,” Chase replied, his eyes locked on mine as he awaited my answer.
I swallowed the fear lodged in my throat and nodded. “Yes. Yes, I’ll wait for you.”
He smiled like a boy with a new bike as he slipped the ring on my finger. “You’ll hear from me tonight.” He kissed me, a deep, urgent kiss. “I love you,” he said, as he rested his forehead against mine. “I’m going to make this up to you.”
My chest ached as I tore myself away from him. “I know.”
I turned away before I could change my mind and chased Drew up the staircase. A private elevator on the second floor of the penthouse delivered us onto the roof where a helicopter waited for us. I raced toward the helicopter, pushing aside worries about how I was going to get all my stuff to this secret destination. I climbed into the cabin and Drew helped strap me into the seat.
“Where are we going?” I shouted at him over the roaring squeal of the engine and the thwack of the rotors.
He shook his head before he strapped himself into the seat next to me. I didn’t know if this meant he didn’t know where we were going or he couldn’t tell me, but I was starting to realize it didn’t matter. Even if he knew, he wouldn’t tell me.
The helicopter lifted off the roof and swept across the sky toward the west. I gazed at my ring and the way the light refracted off the stone and onto the ceiling of the chopper. Suddenly, I couldn’t breathe. I tucked my hand under my thigh and turned my attention to the window. As I gazed at the Vegas strip below, I thought of California and my ex-roommate Shane. He said I hit the jackpot when Chase picked me out of all the girls at the escort service. Suddenly, I was beginning to lose my taste for winning.
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Chase
Part IV: Closure
1
When life hands you a precious gift, wrapped in a flashy bow, sometimes it turns out to be a boxful of lemons. That’s how I felt about Chase’s proposal, which came minutes after having our affair broadcast to millions of people yesterday. My father used to say, “When life kicks you down, grab it by the balls and twist as hard as you can.” Right now, I didn’t have the energy to make lemonade or grab anyone’s balls. All I wanted at this moment was a comfortable bed and nine hours of sleep. The flight to Chase’s villa in Tuscany had me jet lagged and I had an interview with Diane Sawyer in ten hours.
I followed Secret Service agents Drew Hardwick and Michael Pham up the marble staircase to the second floor of the lavish villa where I would be spending the next three to four months as Chase attempted to glue his campaign and possible presidency back together. I resisted the urge to run my fingers along the polished mahogany banister as I went over the interview script in my head. Gideon Vernon, Chase’s public relations director, and Laura Greene, his speechwriter, had come up with a script for tomorrow’s interview. It wasn’t so much an interview as it was a chance for me to publicly deny my affair with Chase Underwood.
The whole thing reeked, but the campaign statician insisted it was the only option if they wanted any chance of salvaging Chase’s rapidly plummeting poll numbers. As my heels clicked against the wood floors in the corridor, I wondered if I was just a number. What if Chase had other mistresses in hiding?
That was way too much to fathom at this junction. I needed to rest up, do the interview, and try not to worry about what my parents would think when they saw me on ABC World News. This wasn’t exactly the big break I’d been hoping for when I left home for Hollywood two years ago. I hated the thought of my mother turning to my father after seeing my interview and saying, “I told you so.”
“This is your room, Miss Jacobs,” Drew said, as he opened a set of tall double-doors revealing an enormous master suite that could easily fit my entire L.A. loft—four times.
“You can call me Larissa, Drew. I won’t tell Diane Sawyer if you don’t,” I said, as I set my purse down on a chaise lounge and wandered across the sumptuous carpet. “This is huge. I don’t think I need all this space. Are there any smaller rooms?”
Drew set my luggage down next to a massive armoire and glanced around. “This is nothing compared to his palace in San Diego. You’ll be fine in here, but if you really need something smaller I can see if one of the servants will switch with you. Of course, Mike and I will have to bunk in the next room, wherever you decide to sleep.”
“Servants? No, no, that’s fine. I’ll stay here. Thanks for bringing up my stuff.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said with a nod of his head before he and Mike exited the room.
Ma’am? Miss Jacobs? I would have to talk to Drew about that later. Since he and Mike were the only agents assigned to guard me, and the only other people in this house who spoke English, we needed to at least be on a first name basis or the next three to four months would be very depressing.
I unzipped my suitcase and pulled out a nightgown to change into. I peeled off my lilac silk dress, which was now a wrinkled mess after so many unsuccessful attempts to fall asleep on the plane. As I tossed the dress aside, the bedroom door swung open.
Drew took one look at me in my bra and panties and scurried out of the room, slamming the door behind him. “I’m so sorry, Miss Jacobs!” he shouted through the door. “I was just bringing your new Italian cell phone. I’m so sorry!”
I quickly slipped on my nightgown and opened the door. “It’s all right,” I said, as Drew stared at his feet. “It’s no big deal. I’m an actress, remember? I’m used to taking my clothes off in front of strangers in dressing rooms.”
He smiled, but he still refused to look at me as he held out a shiny silver iPhone. “Here you go, ma’am.”
I sighed as I took the phone from his hand. “Please call me Larissa. And please don’t let things get awkward. I’m already freaking out about all this as it is.”
He raised his head slowly and looked me in the eye. “Yes, m—I mean, Larissa. I guess I’ll see you in the morning. Good night.”
I laid the phone on the nightstand before I tucked myself in under the silky sheets and tried to shut off my mind, but images kept flashing behind my eyelids, clips of my relationship with Chase: the satisfied smile on Chase’s face as he made me come on our first “date” then dropped me off at my apartment without allowing me to return the favor; the first time I tasted him in my mouth; the d
ay he brought a jeweler to my hotel room so I could pick out an engagement ring; then, of course, yesterday when he finally proposed. I wanted him here right now, inside me, putting his mouth on me.
I pulled up my nightgown and slipped my hand inside my panties. I writhed against the cool sheets as I imagined Chase’s tongue exploring me.
“Ah….” I flipped onto my belly as I massaged my clit slowly then rapidly as I remembered my last encounter with Chase in my hotel room. “Oh, my god!” I screamed, and a knock at the door startled me. “Who is it?” I shouted, as I turned onto my back and pulled the covers up to my chin.
The thick doors muffled the soft plea in Drew’s voice. I leaped out of bed and raced to the door, my crotch still throbbing with my fantasies of Chase.
I opened the door and Drew stood there, eyebrows raised in concern. “Is everything all right? I heard you scream.”
“I’m fine,” I whispered, as a maid walked past us toward the staircase.
“I’m sorry, but I was given strict orders to make sure you didn’t attempt to… leave. And it sounded like you were struggling with something in there.”
Yeah, struggling to stop thinking about Chase’s hands on me.
“You thought I was trying to escape? From where, the balcony?”
Drew took in my incredulous impression and smiled. “I know it sounds stupid, but I can’t take any chances.”
“Fine. You’re welcome to watch me from the chair if that will ease your paranoia. I’m going to sleep.”
I strode back to the bed and climbed inside as Drew took a seat on the chaise. “I’ll just sit over here,” he muttered awkwardly. “You just feel free… to go right to sleep.”
I pulled the fluffy down comforter up to my waist and leaned my head on my hand. “Do I make you nervous?”
He chuckled as he leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “A little, yeah. Your fiancé practically threatened to kill me if I didn’t take good care of you.”
“Chase? He threatened you? What did he say?”
“He said if I didn’t keep you safe or if I lost you it would be more than just my job on the line.”
“Oh.”
“Not a big deal. I’m used to high stakes jobs. Go to sleep. Once you’re out, I’ll call Michael in here to watch over you so I can get some sleep, too.”
I turned over to face the window where the sun was just beginning to set. My first Italian sunset viewed from a cold bed with a Secret Service agent breathing down my neck. Not my idea of a romantic European getaway. I closed my eyes and tried not to obsess over the script running through my head. My eyeballs burned with exhaustion, but my mind refused to shut down. I nearly jumped for joy when my new Italian iPhone rang.
I snatched it off the nightstand and saw the call was coming in as “Unknown”. I glanced at Drew and he nodded.
“Hello?” I answered.
“Larissa.” Chase’s voice was rich and soothing like a warm cup of cocoa. “Have you arrived at the villa?”
I couldn’t hide my grin. “I just climbed into bed,” I replied, and Drew took this as his cue to slip out of the bedroom and into the corridor. “I miss you.”
“I can’t tell you how much I wish I was there with you right now, watching the sunset with you, holding you in my arms, making love to you. What are you wearing?”
“Nothing,” I said, as I turned on the speakerphone so I could tear off my nightgown.
“Good. Lay on your back and spread your legs.”
I squirmed and kicked my panties off then spread my legs.
“Don’t touch yourself yet,” he continued. “Right now, I just want you to use your imagination.”
“Okay,” I said, my heart racing as I resisted the urge.
“I’m kissing your ear in that sensitive spot that makes you crazy.”
“Mmm….”
“My hand is on your breast. I’m squeezing your nipple as I kiss your neck. Do you like that?”
“Yes.”
“Your nipple is in my mouth and it tastes so sweet. You’re making me so hard. I can’t get enough of your taste.”
I squirmed against the mattress. “I want you inside me. Please let me touch myself.”
“Not yet. Arch your back for me so I can kiss your belly, baby, that spot just below your belly button.” His voice sent shivers over my entire body. “You’re skin is so warm and soft.”
“Oh, Chase.”
“My mouth is moving down… down… And now my mouth is on you, your clit is hard and pink and ready for me. Touch it.”
My fingers glided through my wetness as I stroked myself.
“I’m licking and gently sucking. You’re so wet. Mmm… You taste so fucking delicious.”
“Turn onto your back,” I said, pulling my hand away before I climaxed. “I want your cock in my mouth.”
“Okay, but I want your tight little rosebud in my face so I can eat it up.”
I turned onto my belly and pushed up onto my knees. “Your cock is so hard and so beautiful,” I breathed. “I’m licking the tip. Oh, you taste amazing. So slippery and sweet.”
“Oh, fuck,” he groaned. “Take it all the way into your mouth, baby.”
I moaned as my body began to spasm. “Pound it into my throat, Chase. Faster!” I massaged my clit vigorously as I bucked against the mattress. “Come in my mouth.”
A deep groan vibrated the phone on the nightstand as my body quaked with an earth shattering orgasm. Chase’s breath was amplified through the speaker and I suddenly realized that Drew probably heard our whole conversation.
“That was so fucking good,” Chase said, as I touched the icon to take him off speakerphone.
“When are you coming?” I asked, as I pulled the comforter over me again.
“I believe I just came.”
“You know what I mean,” I replied. “I don’t know how much longer I can stay here with no one to talk to.”
“I’ll be there in no more than five days. The election is the day after tomorrow, then, if I win, I’ll need a couple of days for interviews and meetings before I can sneak out of here. I promise I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
I didn’t know what to say. He hadn’t mentioned it, but I suddenly felt as if the fate of our relationship hung on tomorrow’s interview. If I did well, Chase could win the election and I might see him in five days. If I didn’t do well, he could lose and I might get to see him sooner and, possibly, start planning our wedding.
“Larissa? What are you thinking?”
“Nothing. Just going over my lines for tomorrow.”
“Honey, it’s okay to be nervous. You’re a great actress, but I don’t want you to approach this like you would an acting job. I want people to see the real you. That’s the Larissa they’ll believe.”
“You sound like my acting coach.”
“Guess who I saw today?”
I paused for a moment as I tried to think of someone. “Your wife?”
“Very funny. I saw your mother.”
“My mom? How did you see my mom?”
“Well, obviously, since the story broke yesterday there have been a thousand news vans parked outside your parents’ home. They interviewed her briefly on Fox News.”
“Great! Now she really hates me.”
“She doesn’t hate you, Larissa. She’s your mother. You should call her to let her know you’re okay.”
“I thought I wasn’t supposed to talk to her about us.”
“You don’t have to tell her the details of our relationship to let her know you’re all right. Promise me you’ll give her a call.”
I could feel my face twisting into a sneer. “I’ll try… after the interview. I’m too exhausted right now.”
“Are you going to be okay tonight?”
“I’ll be fine, but… can you stay on the line until I fall asleep?”
“Of course. Good night, princess.”
The softness in his voice made my heart rise into my throat.
I laid the phone next to my head on the pillow and closed my eyes. I tried not to think about my potential conversation with my mother and whether Drew was outside, listening to every sound I had made in the last twenty minutes.
“The very thought of you.” Chase’s voice came softly through the speaker as he sung me to sleep. I smiled as I listened, catching just a few lines before I drifted off.
2
Michael woke me at three in the morning to get ready for the interview, which would be recorded via Skype at five o’clock Italy time, or ten o’clock New York time. It would not be a live interview. This was the one stipulation Gideon refused to budge on when negotiating the terms. I didn’t know if I liked this. A lot of editing could be done after the fact to make me look like more of a harlot than I already appeared to be.
Sometimes I wished I had never taken my roommate’s offer to help me get a job at Black Tie Escorts. I might never have met Chase, but I also wouldn’t have millions of people thinking of me as the filthy whore who seduced Chase Underwood, Pretty Woman style; and I certainly wouldn’t be receiving death threats. No one cared, or probably even knew, that Chase was my first client at the escort service and that we didn’t even have sex on our first “date”.
Drew escorted me to the library where a laptop had been set up to record the interview. With so much on the line, you’d think they’d have sent a production crew out here to do my makeup and set up the lighting and professional cameras to make everything look perfect. Maybe they wanted me to look cheap?
I sat in an armchair next to an ornately carved desk as Michael pointed the laptop’s webcam at me. My skin looked a bit yellow in the glow of the lamplights, but I supposed it was better than looking washed out by the daylight. I glanced at Michael as he scooted between the desk and me so he could connect me to the production assistant in New York. Once the connection was made, he stepped aside and I found a bewildered guy with a pointed chin and absurdly long nostrils staring back at me through the screen.
“Miss Jacobs, can you hear and see me?” he said in a feminine voice.