Abandon All Hope

by M. J. Schiller

  She turned to him, looking him fully in the face for the first time. “Chase,” she said against the wind, “I feel so confused.”

  “I’m sorry,” he replied. “But what I’m going to do next isn’t going to help you any.” He slid his hands up her arms and kissed her, letting her feel all of the desire within him, his tongue searching for hers with sweet need. Then, he simply let her go, turning to retrace his steps through the sand.

  She kept her eyes closed for a moment, wanting not even sense of sight to detract from the singular sensation his lips created when they touched hers. She opened them slowly, expecting to find him there. Bewildered, she turned to search for him, and saw him, already far off, near the stairs, trotting briskly away.

  She was furious at herself for being indecisive. One thing she knew for certain, she couldn’t marry Phillip; she simply didn’t love him, and he deserved better than that. She knew, just as certainly, she did love Chase. Every breath she took when she was with him told her that. But she just couldn’t get past the fact that he had cheated on her. The pain it had caused was forever etched inside her core. Why? she asked herself. People make mistakes. It was years ago. He was young. So, why is it so hard for me to put myself out there? To try again with Chase?

  Without precursor, the answer reverberated from deep inside her soul—the realization becoming so crystal-clear it shocked her. It was because she felt unworthy of his love. She always had, and the cheating was just confirmation of it. Her father had so completely warped her way of thinking, she wasn’t sure if she could ever trust in his love.

  But Hope knew if she was to ever try, she would have to be free of Phillip. Having at least made the decision to break it off with him, she felt somewhat better. She climbed the staircase to the house and went to the kitchen, to search for some butter. She would get this ring off one way or another.

  When she returned to her bedroom, Chase wasn’t there, but he had turned the sheets down on the bed for her. This small gesture of love nearly melted her heart. She climbed in, switched off the light and pulled the covers up with a sigh of contentment. Her life hadn’t seemed so full of promise in a long time.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  When Hope opened her eyes, she was lying on her stomach and the first thing she saw was a piece of paper that was shoved under the door. With a slow smile, she hopped out of bed, grabbed the note, and got back in under the covers. On heavy, gray paper Chase had written:

  Hope—

  Thought you could use some space today, so I headed to the studio with Hal to work on the video. I didn’t want to put any more pressure on you. The keys to the car are where you left them on the table. Spend your day however you want, relax on the beach, work on your story, or, of course, you’re welcome to join us at the studio. I’ll be thinking of you all day. If I don’t see you before, I’ll try to find you at The People’s Choice Awards this evening.

  I love you (okay, maybe a little pressure),

  Chase

  She smiled at his last comment, hugging the note to her chest, feeling it warm her all over. She flipped over and peered out the window. She could tell by the way the light slanted in, and by how refreshed she felt, it was late. Wasting no more time lying in bed, she got into the shower. She decided to skip breakfast and have an early lunch. By the time she sat down to her laptop, it was after eleven.

  Once she got started, the story just seemed to flow out of her. She read it and reread it, fine-tuning the language. At three-thirty, her phone rang. Hoping it was Chase, she rushed to answer it.

  “Hi.” Her heart sank.

  “Phillip. How are you feeling?”

  “Like hell. How ‘bout you?”

  “I’m okay.”

  He sighed. “I need to be there early tonight. Can you get ready and meet me there by five?”

  She glanced at the clock. “Yes, I think I can do that.”

  “Thanks, Hope. Sorry I was such an ass last night.”

  “That’s okay. I’m used to it.”

  “Very funny,” he said, but she could tell he was smiling. “I’ll see you in a little while. I love you, you know.”

  “I love you, too, Phillip.” She hung up the phone and stood thinking for a minute. She hated to see him in pain. He meant a lot to her, and there were so many memories of times they had shared together. He had always been so good to her; he didn’t deserve the pain this would put him through. She fiddled with the ring in her pocket. She dreaded the conversation they would need to have, but she knew it was necessary.

  * * *

  With her press pass, Hope was able to be part of the pack of photographers taking shots of celebrities on the red carpet. Her pictures were no doubt different than the others were taking, because she took shots of chauffeurs trying to appear dignified, and fans ecstatic over seeing their favorite star, or caught photos of the celebrities themselves, which were more candid. She enjoyed being part of the frenzy, but was glad when it was time to take a seat with Phillip.

  When she approached the table, Phillip rose, his mouth falling open. “My God, Hope, you look fantastic!” They hadn’t had many opportunities to play dress-up, so to see her like this was a rarity. She wore a floor-length, red satin dress that was cut on a diagonal, leaving one shoulder bare, hair a mass of curls piled on top of her head. She’d even been pleased to find she had thrown appropriate jewelry in her travel case at the last minute. She’d actually been asked by a young man for her autograph, much to her embarrassment.

  “Thanks.”

  Phillip made a move to kiss her, but she turned to offer a cheek.

  The evening was entertaining, with many famous people performing, and she was enjoying herself immensely, despite the fact that Liz McPherson also sat with them. Phillip was up and down a lot doing various backstage interviews. Each time he came back, he seemed a little less put together, his voice a little louder. At one point, Phillip excused himself to go to the bathroom, but hadn’t returned twenty minutes later. Concerned, she went to find him. She discovered him sitting on some sound equipment backstage, guzzling a glass of champagne. He was following the onstage show and didn’t see her approaching.

  “Phillip!”

  He jumped, spilling some of the champagne down his shirt. “Shit!” he yelled, setting the flute down on the floor and brushing off his pants and shirt. A few people turned their heads.

  She whispered, “Phillip, I think you’ve had enough to drink.”

  “You’re right, hon. I’m sorry.” He reached over, pulling her close and running his hand over the back of her dress, stopping at her tush.

  “Phillip!”

  He swung her back against the stage wall so fast that it took her breath away and pressed his lips to hers aggressively. She pushed against him, angered. “Phillip! This is inappropriate.”

  Phillip banged his fists on the wall on either side of her, his face inches away, so distorted with rage, he didn’t even look like himself. For a second, she was actually frightened. “Dammit, Hope! You never thought it was inappropriate before.”

  Her eyes were wide with shock, and then she glanced around. A big, Asian man, who was obviously a part of the security staff, started moving menacingly toward them. As her eyes continued to travel around the backstage area, she saw people shaking their heads and staring at Phillip disapprovingly, and then she caught Chase’s eyes. He had on a black suit with a scarlet shirt underneath and a scarlet handkerchief sticking out of the pocket, which someone was fussing over. He had been talking but his jaw fell open when he saw her.

  He had been talking to the person straightening his attire when Phillip yelled at her, and heard the commotion, but was not aware of who was causing it or why. Now, looking over and seeing her pinned against the wall, he stopped in midsentence, his mouth hanging open.

  Hope seized Phillip by his lapels, and started dragging him away. “We need to get out of here, NOW!”

  He glanced around and seemed to sense he had made a mistake. He broke aw
ay from her grasp and stumbled over to the security guard. “Everything’s okay, man,” Phillip said, patting his expansive chest. The guard, who had his arms crossed, displaying his large biceps, actually growled at him.

  She wedged herself between them, and keeping her eye on the guard, grabbed Phillip’s arm. He finally fell into step with her. She glanced back over her shoulder and saw Chase being pushed into the footlights, still looking at her and arguing with a man who wore a headset. A few seconds later, as she sped Phillip away from the scene, she heard the audience erupt in applause and knew Chase had taken the stage.

  They moved in silence, their heels ringing on concrete, until Phillip began to beg for her forgiveness. “I was way out of line. I don’t know what I was thinking. Please, Hope…”

  They reached the door that allowed access to the backstage. The security personnel there had obviously been alerted to their presence by walkie-talkie as they were greeted with unconcealed glares as they passed into the hallway outside the auditorium.

  Phillip still rambled on with his apologies.

  “Phillip, it’s all right. Shhh!” She hustled him through a doorway to the theater so she could maybe catch a glimpse of Chase on stage.

  “Aw! Great!” Phillip muttered.

  She was so preoccupied she didn’t notice him wander off. After Chase left the stage, she turned around to discover Phillip missing.

  “Aw! Great!” Hope echoed unintentionally. She made her way back to their seats, but he wasn’t there. Not only that, but Liz and the few other newspaper reporters they knew were gone also, so she couldn’t even ask them if they had seen her runaway. She went back into the hall.

  “Hope! Hope!” Chase came running breathlessly from the backstage area. He grabbed her arms and bent down to peer into her face, still panting. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “If I get my hands on that jackass…!”

  “Uh, Chase, I’m grateful and all, but I could do without the male testosterone right now. Phillip’s missing and I’m afraid, in his condition… Well, anything could happen.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “And that would be a problem because…?”

  “Chase, please.”

  “All right.” He sighed. “I’ll do it for you.” He rubbed her arms up and down. “But if he ever lays a hand on you again—”

  “You can wail away.”

  “Okay.” He glanced up, studying their surroundings. “Well, I didn’t pass him, so he’s not back there. I’ll go straight down the hall, and you can check out these banquet rooms.”

  “Thanks, Chase.” She smiled.

  “You’re welcome.” He took off trotting in the opposite direction.

  She began opening doors into banquet rooms. The first two were empty. The third had a handful of waiters smoking.

  When she opened the fourth, she stared in shock. Liz McPherson sat on the edge of a table with her dress up, her legs wrapped around Phillip’s waist. Phillip had his hands on top of the table and was thrusting his hips back and forth. Liz heard the door open, but when she glanced up and saw Hope, she relaxed and even smiled at her.

  Hope covered her eyes, stumbling backward, not wanting to see anything more. “Oh my God!”

  Phillip followed Liz’s line of vision. “Oh, God, Hope!” He pulled away, struggling to be free from the circle of Liz’s legs, hopping up and down and frantically trying to zip his pants.

  Hope turned back into the hallway, crossing to lean against the far wall, feeling like she was going to be sick.

  Chase entered from the other end of the hallway just as Phillip ran out of the banquet room.

  “Hope!” Phillip stopped, and began pacing back and forth with his hands on his hips, finally stopping to throw them up in the air. “Oh, come on, Hope. Like you weren’t sweatin’ up the sheets with your big rock star here?” He gestured to Chase who was now within earshot.

  She rounded on him heatedly. “I never…I would never…I c-can’t believe this!”

  Seeing the stark sincerity and incredulity on her face, Phillip began to falter. “Well, I needed you in London—”

  “This has been going on since London?” she cried in shock.

  “Aw, shit!”

  “Here.” She began to rifle through her purse. “You can have this.” She held out the ring. “Take it! I’m through with you!” she shrieked hysterically, her tears evident now. He took two steps backward, shaking his head. “Take it, dammit!” When he still refused to take the ring, she threw it at him and it pinged off the wall, ricocheting out of sight.

  She turned to leave and Chase put a hand on her arm. “No!” she screamed, shaking with fury. “I’m through with both of you!”

  He stood, stunned, watching her march away.

  “Chase, where have you been? Your category is up!” Hal yelled from the other end of the hall.

  Chase watched as Hope hit the metal bar to open the exit door at the end of the hall and disappear.

  “Chase?” Hal called anxiously.

  He turned around, moving toward Hal. He glared at Phillip with loathing. He was leaning against a wall, looking ill.

  Chase entered the backstage area just as they announced he had won the award for Best Male Vocalist of the Year, and the crowd roared with applause. He strode out on stage, receiving the award with a smile and taking the mike at the podium.

  “Wow!” he started when the crowd settled down. “This is great! Well, first of all, I’d like to thank my fans—”

  A teenage girl shrieked from the balcony, “I love you, Chase!”

  He turned in her direction. “Thanks.” The audience chuckled. “Umm…I’d like to thank my manager, Hal Westbrook.” He held the award up, gesturing in his direction backstage. “He keeps me focused and organized and out of trouble, for the most part.” Hal nodded and smiled.

  “Uh…I’d like to thank my crew.” He looked out in the direction where he knew they were sitting in the audience. “You guys are the best, and I couldn’t do it without you.”

  “And finally,” he paused, wanting to get this right. “I want to thank the woman who was the inspiration for every love song I’ve ever written—I pray you’re in the building somewhere—Hope, I love you. I have always loved you, and I will always love you. Thank you.”

  He left the stage to more applause. The backstage was abuzz. The World’s Most Eligible, Sexy Rock Star had a girl? He handed Hal the award and dodged microphones.

  “But Chase, you’ve got four more categories.”

  “You’ll just have to accept for me.” He was already flipping his cell phone open to call his driver as he headed for the backstage exit.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Chase climbed into the back of the limo.

  “How was your night, Mr. Hatton?”

  He rubbed his eyes, feeling a headache coming. “I’ve had better.”

  “I thought I heard you won Best Male Vocalist?” he asked, his eyes widening in the rearview mirror.

  “I did,” he said simply, staring out the window. Alternately the streetlights lit his face and then it was left in shadows. He sat with his elbow on the sill, his fingers curled, resting against his chin.

  “Where to?”

  Where would she have gone? As upset as Hope was, she could have gone anywhere, but his best guess was she had gone home.

  “If you could please take me home, Terrence. As fast as you can.”

  “We’re not going to one of those all-night parties?”

  “Not tonight,” he responded vaguely.

  Fifteen minutes later the chauffeur was laying on the horn and cussing. “I’m sorry, Mr. Hatton. I forgot all about the basketball game tonight.”

  Chase sighed restlessly, studying the long line of traffic ahead, feeling like a rat caught in a trap. “That’s okay, Terrence. You did your best.” He just prayed he hadn’t missed her.

  When he pulled into the drive, the house was dark. He hopped out, not waiting for the garage to o
pen, and ran up the sidewalk to the front door. Finding it locked, he remembered, I never gave her a key. He put his hand on his forehead, shading his eyes from the glare outside so he could peer inside the window running parallel to the door. Whether it be a moonbeam shining through the skylight, or light filtering down from the kitchen, he was able to make out the car keys on the hall table. He had forgotten there was a house key with them. So, she was here. He pulled a set of keys out of an inner pocket, struggled with the lock and opened the door.

  Stepping into the darkness, he called her name. The sound of his voice dissipated in the stillness. He ran up the few stairs to the main level and into her room. When he didn’t find her there, he opened the door to the deck and stepped out, almost imagining seeing her there on the beach where she was the night before. But all he saw was sand and shimmering water. He stretched his hands wide on the porch railing, and hung his head, exhaling loudly. “Shit!” She was gone. He had known it all along, but kept hoping, maybe.

  He ambled back to her room, closing and locking the door behind him. He ran a hand over the bedspread, half-expecting it to still be warmed by her body. There was no sign she had ever been there. Her shampoo was gone from the bathroom, her brush from the dresser.

  He left her room, turning off the light and closing the door softly behind him. He wandered into his bedroom aimlessly, and it was as if he could see her there, lying asleep in his arms; he, watching her in the early dawn light.

  He went to the bathroom and found it, the dress, still hanging from the shower curtain. She had forgotten it. He pulled the black dress down and buried his face in it, finally losing his control. He sat on the edge of the tub and cried, wondering why she had ever come back into his life.

  * * *

  Vaguely Chase heard Hal come in the front door. Chase sat on the couch upstairs in the dark. Hal set some awards one by one on the hall table, and climbed the stairs. Chase didn’t even look up. He slouched on the sofa, still wearing his suit, though his shirt was semi-unbuttoned. He held a glass of scotch in his hand and swirled the ice, watching it as it clinked against the sides.