Wild Chase (11 page)

She flops down on the bed next to me and puts an arm around me, “I know you think that way, but I think that if you actually tried to contact Avery, he’d shit himself! Chase, that boy had stars in his eyes for you, and you know it.”

I shake my head and bite the inside of my cheek as I feel the anger start to bubble up inside of me.

“No, I don’t think so. I’d bet anything that those stars were for her.” I motion to the small picture on the corner of the cover of the magazine.

She sighs because she knows arguing with me about it is useless.

Taking one last look at the headline, I fight the urge to throw it across the room.

“Vengeful Honor’s Lead Singer, Avery McGuire’s Long-time Sweetheart, Olivia Birsch, talks about the couple’s upcoming nuptials…”

Sitting alone, completely consumed by his thoughts, strumming his guitar on the end of his hotel bed, Avery never even hears the door to his shared suite open and shut.

“Hey there, Asshole!” a familiar voice calls out from so close that Avery didn’t have time to move or react before a fist came crashing down into his bicep.

“Owww! Jesus, Jesse, what the hell was that for?” Avery cries out, setting his precious guitar behind him on the bed and rubbing his now throbbing arm.

“You’re lucky I don’t punch you in the damn face for withholding that kind of information from me,” the bassist states, flopping down in the nearest chair.

“What are you talking about? My plane just landed two hours ago, I haven’t had time to withhold any information since the last time we spoke. You already know about all of the new album drama, what more could there be to talk about?”

Avery watches as one of his best friends rolls his eyes.

“I’ve been getting nonstop texts since I got here this morning, Ave. You’re upcoming
wedding ringing any fucking
bells? Or am I not invited? Is that why I don’t know anything about it?”

Avery, completely dumbfounded, stares blankly at Jesse. Blinking rapidly, he tries to make sure he didn’t just imagine those words coming out of his friend’s mouth.

“I’m sorry, my what?”

“Dude, I swear I’ll hit you.”

Avery sighs, moving to sit down on the couch beside the chair his fellow band mate occupies, and rubs his forehead.

“I think if I were getting married, I would fucking know about it, Jesse. What are you going on about?”

Jesse stares at him for a moment and sits up in his seat, brushing his long black hair out of his eyes, “You’re not engaged? Olivia and you aren’t planning some extravagant island wedding for this winter?”

Avery’s eyebrows nearly fly off the top of his head.

“Uhh, Negative, Ghostwriter! I think I would remember proposing and planning a damn wedding; neither of which I have done! Where the hell is all of this coming from?”

Jesse’s bright blue eyes soften after a moment, and he cocks his head to the coffee table.

Avery’s eyes dart to a neat spread of magazines, one of them catching his eye immediately after seeing his band mate Kennedy’s profile. He tears it from the pile and quickly scans it until his eyes settle on a little corner story.

“She didn’t. She wouldn’t,” Avery utters in disbelief.

Laughing sarcastically, Jesse smirks, “This is Olivia we’re talking about here.”

Sighing out loud, he throws it back on the table.

Running both hands through his hair, Avery mumbles to himself, “I’m gonna kill her.”

“Victoria! How do you expect to be a successful model if you can’t get your beautiful ass out of bed on time?” I holler to my friend with a laugh, watching as the blonde nearly falls out of the bathroom trying to put on a shoe and a hat at the same time.

“You’re lucky that you’re doing me a favor today, Chase. Otherwise, I’d be pulling your purple hair out right now,” Vic grumbles at me as she grabs her bag and keys, playfully shoving me out the apartment door.

About forty minutes later, we arrive at the site for the shoot. Before walking into the designated room, I catch sight of an older, slim built man with sandy brown, slightly graying hair, pacing around the entrance.

“That’s David. Be nice!” Vic hisses, tossing her ponytail over her shoulder and plastering on a bright smile.

I couldn’t help but chuckle softly and shake my head. Seeing Vic stressing out about work was funnier than I ever thought it would be. When David’s finally sees us, his worried face visibly eases.

Introductions are short and sweet.

“You were right, she is beautiful, and she should fit right in today. Hair and makeup is ready for you both. Cassie just got here about ten minutes ago. When you’re done, head back to wardrobe and get dressed, and then wait for the photographer to let you know what she wants. I’ll be around for a while longer, if you need me. Thanks again, ladies!” David was off in almost a sprint the next second, causing another giggle to escape me.

Vic immediately elbows me in the arm,

“Cut that out! He’s got a lot of stuff to do! Now, come on! Let’s go get beautimus!”

Linking our arms, she hauled us off through the doors and into what I will always refer to from now on as a torture chamber.

After what seems like ages of being ogled, snickered at, whispered about, picked, plucked, and painted upon, I was more than ready to head to wardrobe. Although, I had to give it to them. The shiny, wavy, movie star hair, smoky eyes, and plump pink lips were somewhat sexy.

It still wasn’t enough to shift me to the dark side, though. Vic could keep this modeling stuff. I’d been here for less than two hours and all the cattiness coming from Cassie’s corner was enough to make me sick. The look of sheer horror on her face when I walked in was priceless. If I weren’t here for Vic, and for Blurr, I would have punched that girl right in her fake boob. Considering the snotty comments, I thought Victoria was handling herself very well. Back in high school, she would have put that girl in her place, but she must really be serious about staying with this agency because every time the shorthaired brunette spoke, Vic would visibly cringe and then almost instantly compose herself.

I was pretty sure she was just turning into a ticking time bomb, but I wasn’t about to say anything.

As they finished up with Vic’s hair, I headed off to wardrobe.

I had a few minutes, so I stole away, grabbing a handful of my resumes, and a stack of my cd’s. I had remixed and re-mastered a few popular songs, along with producing a few of my own acoustic songs on the cd. I had never let anyone hear them before, so today was a huge step for me. Determined to hand these out to at least a couple of the suits I saw standing around, I hold my music close to my chest, take a deep breath, and put on a smile as I make my way around the room.

Not ten minutes later, as I find my way back to Victoria in wardrobe, slumping into the nearest chair with a visible frown.

She glances at me with worried eyes. Pouting, I shake my head.

“They completely brushed me off.”

“You there, Purple! Come on,” a voice calls out from behind me. I turn to see an older woman, about five feet tall with white hair, holding up a hanger with lingerie on it.

My eyes nearly roll out of my skull, turning my head back to my friend. I had been so distracted by the bust that was handing out my demo that I failed to notice my best friend dressed in nothing but a red corset and heels.

What the hell?

“I’m sorry, what is that?” I ask, turning back to the old woman and pointing to the hanger.

“These are you’re damn clothes. Now, go get dressed. The shoot will be starting in a few minutes.”

My eyes dart back to Vic, who has already prepared with her most apologizing and pleading puppy dog eyes.

Sighing, I turn grudgingly back to the hanger, making my way over to the lady to take it from her.

After really eyeing the skimpy bra and panty set, I couldn’t help the laugh that escapes me.

“This must have been for the other model. That bra won’t fit me. I’m not anywhere close to a B cup, sister.”

Without hesitating, the old broad lifts up my top and looks at the bra I’m wearing. She sighs loudly and frowns.

“Well, give me a minute and I’ll come up with something,” she mumbles and heads off to the rack of clothes.

I didn’t even have to turn around to hear the laughter coming, not only from my roommate, but her stylist and Cassie, too.

Glancing over my shoulder, I catch a glimpse of the other model in a black get-up that resembles something like a vest and panty set. I turn around just in time to have another hanger thrown at me.

“Keep your own bra on. I don’t need your girls spilling out of one of the smaller ones, but these should fit you fine. Don’t forget the shoes. Hurry it up.”

I made my way back behind a makeshift curtain and glance down at my impending doom. A skimpy, thin, white cotton tank top with a faded skull on the front. I sigh as I pull it on, realizing that it just barely covers my bellybutton. Gazing back at the hanger, I frown—purple hot pants.

Ah hell.

Victoria owes me so big. Epically big.

I reluctantly finish putting on the rest of my ensemble and head out. I am intent on cussing out my friend just for the hell of it, but she isn’t in the wardrobe area anymore.

The little old lady checks me over, but gives me the O.K. on the outfit, and I make my way out of the room only to run smack into Vic.

“I’m gonn—”

“Before you say anything, Chase, I just want you to know that I had no idea, I mean, NO FUCKING IDEA!”

It’s then I notice her face is twisted with concern. She’s seriously upset.

All right, it’s just hot pants! I mean, I’ll live.

“Really, Vic. I’m not happy about it, but whatever. I get to take it off in a little bit, and forget I ever wore the damn things. No big deal. A warning would have been nice though.”

I wasn’t going to let her off the hook so easy, but she was starting to worry me with her ‘about to barf’ face.

“What? Oh, yeah, that’s not even close to what I’m talking about. You know I wouldn’t have brought you here if I had known, right? Right? Just say yes, Chase!” she pleads desperately, grabbing my hands in hers and squeezing them.

I look into her wide, worried, brown eyes and before I can answer, Cassie comes running up to us with a huge grin plastered to her pretty face.

“OH MY GOD! Can you believe it? Can you believe that we are doing the new freaking album cover with Vengeful Honor? I’m dying right now. Literally – dying! The guys just walked in and they are so hot. I mean, like, scorching. Remind me to kiss David when I see him!” She is all but squealing before trotting off toward the set.

I don’t remember hearing much for a few moments after that. Somewhere after hearing Vengeful Honor, I’m pretty sure I blacked out.

Squeezing my eyes firmly, I try to wake myself up. I hear Vic talking, but it’s all a warbled mess by the time my brain begins to process it. It was already busy firing off other thoughts.

Avery.

I was about to come face to face with Avery. Not just any Avery, an ENGAGED Avery.

All my previous ideas and dreams about one day reuniting with him were washed away the moment I read all about him being with his high school sweetheart for the last four years. The math was easy; he didn’t stay because of her. He didn’t try to make sense of our week together because he didn’t need to. He hadn’t wanted more because he had a girl back home all along.