by Jo Frances
He had to hand it to her, she was smart. If she had continued to plead with him, or thought she could bribe him with sex, Chase would have been out of there. But she brought it back to him, and his career, which was the only thing that mattered to him. He didn’t give a damn about making her happy, and they both knew it.
The playful tone in her voice gone, she explained, “look, you need exposure right now. I’m not sure what the strategy is, but if Helene Kehoe says to do it, I would.” Then she added, unnecessarily, “she’s damn good at her job.”
He nodded, understanding. “You use that word a lot.”
Amy reached for her purse by the door. “Job?”
“Yeah.” There was a part of Chase that liked how single-minded and focused Amy was. She reminded him a lot of himself---at least before he had gotten all domesticated with Jamie.
“It’s what I am, Chase.”
“You are your job?”
“Aren’t you? I mean, isn’t that what you are? A basketball player?” Amy sighed, suddenly looking older. “I’m an actress. That’s who I am; that’s all I’ve ever been. So, yeah, everything I do is to keep my job going.”
He asked the question he had been thinking about since the Founder’s Ball. “But why me? And why you for me? I don’t get it.”
She locked the door behind them and they walked out into the hallway. Amy was sometimes late for appearances, but unlike other women like his mother, that didn’t mean she had lost track of time. She knew to the minute what time she wanted to get somewhere even if that meant being seventeen minutes late. “Well… there’s the business side of it,” she continued. “People’s interests are like---they come in levels. Date a non-celebrity and no one cares. Date a minor celebrity and people care a little bit. Date a bigger celebrity than you, they care more. But date someone involved in a scandal, and someone younger on top of it, and suddenly people are very interested.” She spoke confidently because, like being good in bed, this was probably something she spent a lot of time studying. “I’m also getting too old to play someone in your age group. So instead of fighting it, Helene wants to highlight that, and transition me into the role of ‘the young mother’ or ‘the chick lit heroine’.”
He shook his head, disagreeing. “I think you’re too young for those roles.”
Ever so briefly, the mask dropped to reveal that he had touched her, and she looked at him gratefully as they got into the elevator. “Oh my god, thank you for saying that! But that’s kind of Helene’s strategy. I’ll be competing with older actresses for those roles, and one thing we know about Hollywood is, they always go with the younger actresses. So Helene asked me, ‘do you want to be young, or do you want to work?’ and here’s my answer.”
That definitely sounded like a Helene Kehoe strategy. “So what’s in it for me? I mean, besides getting laid.” Chase wasn’t trying to be rude, but he didn’t particularly care if he were. This blunt, aggressive, kind of talk was something he usually saved for agents, lawyers and opponents on the court. But he realized that there was nothing personal between them, and it would save him a lot of trouble if he started acting like it.
“What’s in it for you is that I’m giving you a stamp of acceptability and raising your profile. Before me, all people will know you for if basketball. After me, all people will know you for is being one of my ex-boyfriends.”
Chase rolled his eyes. “Sounds like a great deal.”
Amy paused as the elevator doors opened into the garage to look at him seriously. “Being famous is a great deal,” she said. “Being famous beats being just a basketball player because that lasts longer. And, as Helene would ask, do you want to be a basketball player or do you want to work?”
Chase smiled fondly at Amy. No, she wasn’t going to be his real girlfriend. But she would be a good person to have at his side during this time and that was even better because unlike a girlfriend, he knew he wouldn’t have to pretend with her.
They reached her car. “Good talk, coach.”
Amy rewarded him with her mega watt smile. “Yeah, you too. Now let’s get out of here.”
Forty five minutes later, they made their way to one of Brooklyn’s trendier neighborhoods, Amy behind the wheel of her SUV. She wouldn’t tell him who was going to be at the dinner, and once inside the five story historic brownstone, he could see why.
It was a children’s birthday party.
Liam Bettancourt, aged four, was the son of Rodrigo Betancourt and his wife Shelby. Amy had given him some background during their drive over. Rodrigo was the son of one of the wealthiest men in Spain, and a distant relative of the King. He met his American wife Shelby (whose family owned shipping lines) while they were both students at a tony prep school, and now they were considered one of the golden couples of New York. They were young, beautiful blue-bloods with an adorable son to match.
None of this was obvious when Shelby greeted them at the door. She welcomed them as if she were just another young mother, but Chase could see the difference. She wasn’t gorgeous like Jamie, or even pretty like Amy. Instead, Shelby could be described as stunning, in that everything about her had been honed to perfection. Her perfect nose and perfect teeth, and her perfectly shaped face, framed by her perfectly natural blonde hair could only have come from the DNA pool of generations of rich men choosing beautiful women to bear their children. And now she herself had borne a beautiful child: Liam, who was staring at Chase in open mouthed awe.
“Mommy! That’s Chase Reston!” Rodrigo was one step behind Liam. He, too, was casual and friendly, seemingly unaware that he was royalty. “Please excuse my son,” he said, shaking Chase’s hand warmly. “I’m Rodrigo, and you are obviously Chase Reston.” He spoke with a very slight accent. “Come on in. We’re just finishing up the children’s dinner, so the adults can eat.”
Amy turned to Shelby. “I’m sorry, are we late?,” she asked, knowing full well they weren’t.
Shelby gestured for them to follow her. “No, not at all! We just thought we’d serve the kids first so they can go home and go to bed.” She gave a slightly embarrassed laugh. “I mean, who has a child’s birthday party on a Wednesday at six at night, right? But this is Liam’s actual birthday day, and we wanted to celebrate, and of course, none of the dad’s were free until evening so… here we are.” They were now in the massive kitchen and family room area of the house. There were bright decorations with Liam’s picture in the center festooned all over the space. In a small table, covered with butcher block paper, were five children in various stages of cake eating. Chase noticed that each child had a woman hovering near them while off in the other side of the room were a group of younger women his age talking quietly to themselves. Seeing his glance in their direction, Amy whispered dismissively, “those are the nannies.”
Before Chase had a chance to comment, he felt Liam tugging on his hand. “Yeah, buddy?” he asked him.
“I have your wookie card,” Liam declared solemnly. “Wanna see it?”
Chase knelt down and met him at eye level. “You do? Hey, that’s great. Do you collect basketball cards?”
Liam turned to his father. “Dad, can you help me get my basketball cards?” Not surprisingly, Rodrigo agreed. “Let’s go upstairs and show Chase your collection, OK?”
Chase followed the two of them up two flights of stairs to the top floor, half of which was Liam’s space. He expected a child like Liam to have his card collection behind plastic cases, as serious collectors did with valuable cards, but he was relieved to see Rodrigo take out a simple large binder filled with plastic sheets with slots for cards. Just like he used to have.
“Aww man, this is great,” he said sincerely, sitting down on the rug. Liam sat close to him and opened it to the first page. “This is you.” Staring back at him was his rookie card, taken the first day of practice. The face was his, and yet it wasn’t. There was an openness and wonder in his
expression that he knew wasn’t there now. Feeling Liam’s eyes on him, Chase forced himself to look away from the card and turn to the little boy in front of him.
“I’m on the first page? What an honor, Liam!”
“Yeah, this card isn’t worth as much as your real wookie--ROOKie card.” Liam’s face twisted with the effort. Chase wondered if the poor kid was going to a speech therapist for not being able to pronounce his “R”’s; something he remembered being teased about himself.
He nodded appreciatively. “Yeah, it’s not my official rookie card, but I like this one better, too.”
Liam beamed. “Who else do you have?” Chase asked.
For the next ten minutes, they went through his book, Liam explaining each player and which team they played for as if he were reading Chase a book. Because of his competitive nature, Chase used to go over all the scouting reports the team provided even when his teammates would just throw them away. He knew all the stats Liam was now reciting but still Chase nodded thoughtfully throughout, occasionally asking an easy question about the player that he knew Liam would have the answer to.
Rodrigo sat in a chair a distance from them, watching his son with a proud smile on his face.
Later, after Liam was being put to bed by his nanny, the two men walked out of the room together. Before they got to the kitchen, Rodrigo stopped and shook Chase’s hand in the hallway, the voices of the rest of the guests coming up faintly from the floor below. “Thank you...he’s going to be talking about you for a long time,” Rodrigo said with a father’s true gratitude.
Chase shrugged, guiltily remembering that he was no role model. “Yeah, well, I hope he isn’t disappointed when someone tells him stories about me.”
“You know, I think Liam does know.” Rodrigo met his eyes. “And he sees the world in black and white, but somehow he still thinks you’re one of the good guys. So maybe there’s something he knows that the rest of us don’t.”
He had never been an emotional type, so Chase was taken aback by the wave of emotion he suddenly felt. He had taken responsibility for what his mother had done so completely that it took a child to remind him that he was innocent after all. “He’s a great kid,” was the most he could say.
Rodrigo put an arm across his shoulder. “Come on, let’s go join the rest of the party.” As they walked into the dining room together, Chase saw that the rest of the guests were already seated at the table, waiting for them. “Everybody, this is Chase Reston,” Rodrigo gestured in his direction. “Chase, this is… well you’ll all have to introduce yourselves.” This was met with too-hearty laughter---like the kind at sports conferences when the reporters laughed at anything he would say.
He saw that the chair next to Amy was already taken, so he found his way to the only empty available chair before noticing the place card with his name on it. This explained why everyone else was already seated---Shelby was trying to keep him from embarrassing himself by sitting in the wrong seat. This was the kind of gesture only Jamie’s mother Frances had done for him before, and Chase suddenly felt more at ease in this couple’s home than he had felt anywhere else in a long time.
The rest of the dinner party wasn’t as boring as he thought it was going to be, and on the way home, when Amy asked what he thought, Chase could answer honestly. “It was cool, but those people talk way too much abut their kids.”
Amy nodded. “I’m used to it. I’m sure I’ll be the same way when I have kids.” She paused. “But you were so sweet to Liam...you’ll probably be the same way.”
“Probably. But that’s a long way away.” This last sentence seemed to add an unnecessary tension in the air that didn’t go away until they were back in Amy’s apartment. Instead, it seemed to trigger something else. Chase recognized it. He would get like that when his team was behind by ten points, and he’d decide that he would win the game on his own. Her wistful mood gone, Amy was now back in her sex-kitten role. As if to emphasize that fact, she turned on the TV and one of her movies came on.
Chase chuckled. “Do you just, like, watch these movies every night?” Amy looked hurt, as if she were about to deny it, but realizing that Chase could read her, shrugged good naturedly. “You’d be surprised how much I watch my old movies.” She handed him a beer and they settled into the couch together.
“Well, these cheerleader ones are good and Zoe was the fucking best” he said, as the movie character Zoe appeared on the screen in her trademark ponytail and cheerleader. The story was of virginal Zoe and her perfect football quarterback boyfriend Kyle. But Zoe was actually carrying on a torrid affair with Kyle’s just-released-from-prison older brother Mike. Of course, there was the requisite devoted but bookish friend of Zoe’s who was secretly in love with Kyle, and who he really should have been with. But it was the scenes between Zoe and Mike, secretly and lustfully hooking up wherever they could that made the movie such a hit with guys his age. After the first half of the movie, Amy kissed him on the lips and said she had to make a quick a phone call. A few minutes later when she came back, Chase’s jaw dropped. Standing in front of him, in full costume was “Zoe”.
He threw his head back and whooped. “Holy shit!” Being an athlete definitely had it’s privileges.
Amy stood in front of him. Chase ran a hand up her legs and underneath her cheerleader skirt. He wasn’t surprised to find that she was wearing nothing underneath. They locked eyes as he began to rub her gently, feeling her slow excitement. He pulled her a little closer until she stood over him. He lifted her skirt and raised her higher so he could place his mouth on her sex. At the first flick of his tongue, Amy inhaled sharply, then relaxed into him, putting her hands on his shoulders to steady herself. When her breathing became faster and shallower, he lay her down on the sofa and took his clothes off. “You aren’t good enough to have me,” she purred. Chase recognized the line from the movie, and he realized that she was going to stay as Zoe. Suddenly, the fantasies he had had about this character came flooding back to him. He grinned. There was one scene where Zoe and Mike sneaked off to have sex in the school parking lot during halftime, while the clueless Kyle was in the locker room with his team getting a talking-to by his coach. “I want to fuck you like we’re in the back of a car,” he said, stripping his clothes off in a hurry. Amy nodded knowingly and expertly moved towards the edge of the couch, her head hitting the armrest as if she were laying cramped in a backseat.
Chase needed nothing more. He lay on top of her, kissing her hungrily, his eyes shut tight, fantasy turning into reality. She reached down and began stroking him, causing him to grow even harder before she led him inside her wetness. “Take me, Mike,” she moaned. Chase lost himself and he began moving with her, his movements overeager and rough. He felt as if he had stepped into the porno version of one of his favorite movies. When Amy folded her knees up just as she had in the movie, the image and feeling of actually doing to her what was only implied on the screen was too much for him. Chase let out a deep groan of pleasure before collapsing into a satisfied heap on top of her.
“That was… fucking… wild,” he mustered when his head cleared. Amy turned towards him, a complacent smile on her face. “Glad you liked my performance.”
Chase wasn’t inexperienced enough to be manipulated into being with someone just because of sex, but after that night, he accepted that they were a couple. The tabloids referred to him as Amy’s “boy toy” and painted a picture of their relationship that barely resembled the reality. Their age difference made hanging out a struggle, no matter how hard Amy denied it. As far as he could figure out, she liked dinner parties, furniture shopping and attending black tie events. He still liked clubbing, playing video games and watching sports. About the only thing they had in common was that they both liked working out, so if a week had gone by without them going to an event together, Chase was fine with going to the gym, or being photographed jogging in the park together.
And, th
ere was no doubt about it, being with her had its perks. There was the obvious; like seeing himself move from just one more athlete caught doing something illegal, to turning into a celebrity, his scandal erased from memory. Then there was the sex. Amy had a knack for knowing exactly what his fantasies were. He thought he had checked off the two-women thing back in college, but just having two women in bed at once was not the same thing that he experienced with Amy and another actress friend of hers. This twosome was a mind-blowing, writhing, marathon event that was better than anything he could have imagined. He hated to admit it, but she was introducing him to experiences and sensations that he didn’t even know existed.
Chase didn’t do drugs, but he was beginning to understand how people could become addicted to the lifestyle. He himself was starting to feel as if he were sinking into this soft world where everything felt good, but it made him feel dull and slow. He knew if he were to give into that feeling, it would be like drowning, and he would lose that edge that had driven him for so long. He could see what lay ahead because he saw what happened to players who lost their focus. After the year’s suspension was up, he wouldn’t be the same player he had been.
As nice as this life was, Chase knew it wasn’t the life he wanted. He didn’t want to be a celebrity, he wanted to play basketball. And he wanted to be with his girl. What he wanted was the life he had before. He thought that enough time had passed. Jamie probably wasn’t ready to trust him yet, but maybe he could start by rebuilding his basketball career, and prove to her that he wasn’t what the press made him out to be.
Chapter Eight
Jamie
Two days after the barbeque, Jamie was at the airport waiting for the flight that would take her to a photo shoot in Bali when Adam called. He thanked her for inviting him, but said nothing about any future plans.