24. Gorgeous

CHAPTER 24

GORGEOUS

TAYLOR SWIFT

The flashbulbs are even more blinding than when we got out of the car, and I have no idea how Chase is seeing a damn thing or not getting a migraine. After what feels like an hour, but what is little more than a few seconds, the flashbulbs stop, but I can still hear the roar of the shutters as they snap closed over and over. I focus on the blue in front of me and follow his tie until I find his eyes. He’s standing in front of me, with his back to them as they yell his name.

“The flashes can be intense,” he explains over the noise. “I thought you’d like a moment to get used to them. Keep an eye on the floor when you walk. There are markers where they want us to stop. Remember, at the end?—”

“Don’t step away when they ask me to.”

“Damn fucking right, Sunshine. Let ‘em have it.”

He spins on his heel and slides back in place by my side. Being a teacher, I can pick out the voices as they shout random things at us. Over here! Look right! Give us a smile! Chase has told me he ignores most of them now. They’ve merged into the background noise except for the few he wants to hear.

Finally, they yell the questions we spent the entire ride here preparing for.

“Who’s the lady?”

“Hey Chase, who’s that?”

“Are you two a couple?”

“Is she your agent?”

Chase doesn’t hear the comments they’re making under their breath, but I can. Again, teacher’s hearing.

“Wow, why’s he with her?”

“This is a joke, right? His cousin or something?”

“Was this staged? He can’t be dating someone like her.”

“Bet she sucks dick like a Hoover.”

“I told you he was gay.”

With each flippant comment and backhanded compliment, my smirk grows until I’m grinning like a cartoon villain. Everything they say feeds my confidence, because I’m used to this bullshit. Those pricks can think whatever they want to about us; I’m going home and riding this man’s cock tonight. They’re not.

We make it to the end and sure enough, there’s a handler there telling me to keep moving and to step aside. They try to tell me that the photographers need pictures of just Chase, but that isn’t what we want, so to hell with them. We’re going to force our relationship right down their fucking throats. I prepared for this, but I’m still surprised when Chase grabs the sides of my face and plants a slow, passionate kiss on me that curled my toes and left me breathless as my knees tried to buckle.

“Alright, let’s go, goddess,” he says with a wink as we pull apart.

“Damn, Puppy,” I sputter, trying not to say it too loud. He kisses my forehead and offers me his arm again as our dopey, smiley selves walk away from the cameras, past the annoyed handler, and into the hall.

Once we’re in the door, another flute of champagne ends up in my hand. I take a sip, letting it tickle my nose and give me the giggles. The way I scrunch my nose up makes him laugh. It’s a warm laugh where his nose crinkles up to match mine, and the laugh lines around his eyes become more visible. He’s so fucking adorable, and we must look like a pair of nerdy weirdos who’ve crashed a very uppity party.

“You’re so beautiful.”

“I am. Lucky for me, I found myself a handsome man to stand next to me.” I take another drink. “Wait, is this stuff free?”

He laughs again, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. “Yeah, Sunshine. It’s been paid for already by the organization throwing this thing. They like keeping us boozed up.”

“How much of this shit do they go through at one of these events?”

“More than I’d care to admit. It’s not the cheap stuff either, so you’re talking around three to five hundred a bottle.”

“I’ve had three glasses, Chase! I’m guzzling down hundreds of dollars!”

“Yep,” he says, emptying his own glass and grabbing us both new ones.

“Why hold a charity event when you’re letting people drink hundreds of dollars of champagne that nobody even likes?” I glimpse around the room, watching tray upon tray of flutes around the room. “If they cut that, they’d have made more money than any fundraiser the school’s ever done. And that’s before these assholes even open up their wallets!”

“I guess they think drunk people spend more money? It’s all a show, Ren.”

“They’re right! But you only give them one drink of the good stuff. You water the rest down!”

“Welcome to Hollywood, Sunshine.”

“Rich people are dumb.”

“Thanks, babe,” he teases, pretending to be hurt by my comment. Chase’s hand is on my hip as we head over to the stairs, where a woman who looks just out of her teens blushes as she leads us to our seats. Chase gives her a cute little smile because he treats his fans well, so long as they’re not assholes. He pulls my chair out with a bow.

“M’lady.”

The room fills in a few people at a time as Chase stands behind me, looking around. I’m too busy checking out the table decorations and the other names printed on the cards. If mine didn’t say Guest of C. Cooper , I wouldn’t think twice about tucking it into my clutch. Once again, I’m floored by the expense. There’s a gift bag on top of each of the table settings. Chase had told me this happens at award ceremonies and some other events. They could sell what’s in these bags and make a fortune, but big name companies just drop expensive gifts right into the laps of people who could already afford it.

Why? I’m understanding why Chase hates these functions.

“Hey,” Chase leans down next to my ear. “I’m gonna go say hi and bring a friend over. I’ll be back in two seconds. Punch anyone in the balls if they try to talk to you.” He doesn’t wait for my reply, kissing me on the head before he goes.

I love watching him work. The swagger, the confidence—it’s cute and what people expect. But I’m one of few who knows it’s all a front. When we go home, he’ll be my shy, dopey, idiot boyfriend with his therapy dog at his side. I pick up my champagne glass to take another drink when someone bumps right into my arm, pouring my drink all over the front of my dress.

“Oh…oh no!”

Of course, it’s Rich Lawson, the man desperate to cling to his younger years even though they left him a while ago. I’m trying to find something to wipe my dress off while he spins around like a dreidel, freaking out more than I am. I’m just glad it didn’t ruin my hair or makeup. The black fabric won’t show as wet, and no one will even notice it but me if he’ll shut the hell up about it.

“Oh, oh, I am so sorry about that. Why don’t you come over here and we’ll see if one of my staff has a towel or something?” I try to shake him off, but he’s insistent and pulls me out of the chair. As he drags me across the room, I glance behind me, but I can’t find Chase before I’m pulled behind the curtained area. Lawson flags down John Cena’s dollar store doppelg?nger. Of course, he’s the chief of security.

“Ma’am, the fillers aren’t allowed in the seats during the diner service.” Cena’s buddy, ninety-nine cent Macho Man, says. Maybe he’s the head of security and not the other way around? Either way, I don’t care.

“I’m not a filler.”

“The agency should have gone over this with you, miss. Guess they’ve run out of girls, since they’re using you,” Not-Cena finally speaks.

“Fourth stringers. They should do better for Chase. Something like this could ruin his image.” Richie says, exasperated and as if Chase didn’t introduce him to me earlier. He’s being dramatic, arms flailing about, huffing and scoffing as often as he can. He sounds like the old jalopy my uncle drives. When I stare him down, he backs away. I have a feeling he doesn’t deal with many women who don’t intimidate easily. “Are you seriously trying to play that you’re really dating him? I’ll bet my left fucking nut that?—”

“Renate? Are you back here?” Chase comes around the curtain, looking concerned. He spots un-Cena and not-Macho Man, glaring at them until they get the hint and slink away. “Ren, are you okay? What happened?”

“What happened? Chase, it’s cute that you brought a charity case, but you know the agency’s people stay outside. There are rules for a reason.” Lawson’s gravelly voice sounds like Harvey Fierstein with a helium balloon. This guy must smoke four packs an hour and use Listerine as a chaser.

“Richie, she’s not from the agency. I introduced you to her earlier. She’s my girl?—”

“Coop, stop fucking playing with me.” He sounds disappointed. “You’re better than this. I don’t care how good a mouth she has, you don’t bring them out of the bedroom until the lipo and Tic Tac diet does the job.”

Chase drops my hand and steps toward Rick the Dick, going toe to toe. “What the fuck did you just say? I’m hoping it’s the alcohol and loud music that makes it sound like you’re disrespecting my girl.”

Richie glances back at me again for half a second before his lip curls up. “Fine. I sure hope you’re paying by the hour and not the pound, though, buddy.”

In the blink of an eye, Chase has Richie shoved up against the wall by the lapels of his jacket. The security bros stand by, unsure of which person to take orders from. Three staffers come rushing over to break it up, but they stop when they see who’s involved. No one wants to interrupt Hollywood’s new royalty as he shows the old guard the way out.

“Jesus Christ! Fine!” Richie holds his hands up. “She can sit wherever she wants.”

“It’s not about where the fuck she sits, dickhead. It’s about respect, something you know fuck all about,” Chase snarls, not backing down. “I don’t give a shit if other people let you talk to them like that. I’ll fucking deck you if you say one more fucking thing, got it?”

“You’ll throw your entire career away for a?—”

Chase shoves him harder, and I swear he growls.

I am so wet for this man right now.

“FINE! I’m sorry.” I’m not surprised that it sounds like a half-ass apology. He probably has to give them out constantly. I should care, but I can’t. I’m too busy watching Chase, my Chase, stepping up to someone who could sink his career in a heartbeat. And he’s doing it for me. He’s defending me, not raging against me. It’s hot and terrifying all in one go. Before this moment, I didn’t believe anyone would give up a million dollar career for me. How could I be worth that?

I take Chase’s arm and squeeze it. “Come on. His small dick energy isn’t worth it.”

Chase pushes off him and checks on me. “How did your dress get wet? What happened?”

“Dickie here spilled my champagne on me. Tried to play it off as if it were an accident as he whisked be back here out of the public eye.” I straighten Chase’s tie and tuck it back into his jacket. “Let’s just go back to the table, okay? I’m sure he’s regretting his decision enough right now.”

“Are you sure?”

In a moment of panic and passion, I grab his face and pull it to mine. My fingers are in his hair and his hands press my lower back toward him. When I break the kiss, he stares at me, stunned in the best way, and no longer angry over that piece of shit, Lawson.

“Come on, beautiful. Let’s go before dinner gets cold. I want to introduce you to some people that don’t suck the life out of a party.”

* * *

During dinner, where I’m at a table full of Hollywood elites that don’t question why I’m here. We laugh and joke, enjoying a few drinks as we wait for what’s next, when a woman takes the seat next to me. I’m so star-struck, I almost tumble out of my chair. Rosie Johnston, one of Chase’s former co-stars, and one of my favorite actresses, sits right next to me. I could die.

“Rosie!!” Chase yells out, a little tipsy. “Oh, Ren, she’s great. I didn’t think you’d make it, Ro. Oh, this is my girlfriend, Renate Silva.”

“I love your name. It’s so beautiful!”

“Thank you, you’re beautiful. I love your movies.”

Rosie invites me out to Rodeo Drive to pick out a new dress after Chase tells her about the incident earlier. She’s even sweet enough to assure me that no one can even tell. She’s gorgeous—blonde hair, green eyes, and big lips—but, like Chase, she’s stayed grounded among all the chaos and bright lights. We end up talking about my job until the lights dim and a spotlight hits the stage..

We lose track of how many awards and speeches we sit through, because apparently you can’t have a charity event without inflating all these egos. Before dinner, I didn’t realize how much charity work Chase does. But during the awards, several people at our table make comments or mumble about how he should get these awards.

He’s got a big heart, and he cares so much, but a stupid trinket isn’t why he does it. I’m learning that the other people in his big action movies are a lot like him, too, as he tells stories during breaks about the work they do helping people. Especially kids.

But this event isn’t about kids or helping real people. It’s about stuffing pockets, being seen, and making people like Richard Lawson look good because, in reality, he’s a horrible person. It’s all a show for publicity.

Toward the end of the night, someone comes up behind Chase to let him know it’s almost time for him to present. When I turn to wave at him and tell him to break a leg, he’s got his hand held out to me and I’m staring at it like it’s a live fish.

“Chase?”

“Come on, let’s piss some people off.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes!” Holden says as his boyfriend, Blaine, cheers us on. They’ve been an absolute riot all night and I absolutely adore them already.

Chase leans in and whispers, “I promise I won’t get in any trouble for this.”

Even Rosie tells me to go, as she grins like the devil. Who am I to go against the wishes of the wonderful Rosie Johnston?!

“I can’t believe I’m about to do this, but alright, let’s go, baby.”

His toothy grin makes my heart flutter as I let him pull me up. We make our way around to the side of the stage. Some people are curious, others are passing judgment they have no right to pass. While we wait, Chase gives me a rundown of what’s going to happen, but I’m only half listening. I tune out when he says I can follow his lead and I don’t need to say anything.

Before we step onto the stage, I catch Mr. High and fucking Mighty as he scrambles around on the other side of the stage, trying to figure out how to stop us. It’s not a large stage area and there’s no back curtain for him to sneak behind. His options are to run across the stage like a fucking idiot, go out into the audience like a fucking idiot, or don’t stop us at all. I like our odds.

There’s laughter and clapping as the last person accepting his award finishes thanking people and talking about their charity work. That’s when Chase’s grip tightens and he’s doing breathing exercises that remind me of a birthing class. I need to remind myself later to work on that with him. I have a couple of techniques that have helped students more than just breathing like a pregnant woman.

“Hey, Sunshine?”

“Yeah, Puppy?”

“I’m so glad you’re here with me tonight.”