Lost

-Chapter 2-

Mr. Seton was Zoey's boss. He was about fifty years old, large, balding, and very strict. Zoey received the death glare when she arrived late to work over a half hour later.

"I'm really sorry Mr. Seton," Zoey said. "I-"

"I don't want excuses. If it happens again, you're fired."

"Yes sir," Zoey sat at her desk and started working on her presentation for the meeting that afternoon. She had somehow managed to get the kids to school and daycare on time but once again she had arrived to work late. She knew she needed to get her act together. If she was to lose her job, she would be in big trouble.

Chase leaned in his recliner, his laptop next to him. He was supposed to be writing. He had to meet his deadline. But he just couldn't seem to concentrate. He was feeling horrible for Zoey. It must be awful to think your husband is well and on his way home one minute and the next finding out he was killed in an accident.

The phone rang and Chase jumped for it. He was excited to have a distraction. Maybe then he wouldn't feel so bad about procrastinating with his novel.

"Hello?"

"Why aren't you writing?"

Shoot, it was Carmen.

"Because the phone rang," Chase replied, a hint of laughter in his voice.

"Matthews you'd better get on it or your editor will not be happy with you."

"I know. I'm sorry," Chase said sincerely.

"Are you picking me up tonight?"

"Yeah, I'll be at your place around seven," Chase said. He was going to take her out dancing. She loved to dance but personally, Chase would rather watch movies and just hang out around the apartment.

"Alright, well you get back to work."

"I will."

"I love you," Carmen said.

"I love you too," Chase replied. He set the phone down on the table and continued to stare at the blank screen. He wished that Carmen would understand that he wrote in his own time and could not be rushed but Carmen was his editor and it was her job to push him. She was originally from Italy but moved when she was 18 to New York. Her beauty astounded Chase whenever she walked into a room. She was almost ridiculously, movie star beautiful- with her big dark brown eyes and the perfect brown curls that towered all down her back.

They had been dating for almost a year now. He was toying around with the idea of proposing to her, but his nerves held him back. She was spicy, outgoing, and Chase wasn't sure what she even thought about marriage.

The phone rang again.

"I'm writing, Carmen,"Chase said. (Well, he was going to.)

"What?"

"Oh, Zoey, I'm sorry," Chase smacked himself. That was the third time he had answered thinking it was Carmen when it wasn't.

"Who's Carmen?"

"Oh, she's my editor."

"Oh, well I'm on my lunch break. So I thought we could talk now. This is just about the only time I have to myself because of work and the kids to take care of."

"Sure, yeah, of course. Let's talk."

"How have you been?" Zoey asked.

"I've been alright. I'm living in New York in this really tiny, crappy apartment writing for a living. It's a pain but I love it."

"That sounds nice," Zoey said, "Are you married?"

"No...but I do have a girlfriend. We're going on about a year. That's Carmen, actually."

"Oh."

"Well, tell me about your kids," Chase said after a short moment of silence.

"Carly's my oldest. She's five years old and acts more like she's twenty-five. Noah is four and he's wild. Mariah's my youngest- 18 months old. She's actually the easiest one to deal with. Noah and Carly fight like mad. But Mariah is my breath of fresh air. She is definitely the calm of the storm."

"It must be hard, having to take care of them all by yourself."

"Some days are harder than others but I get through alright," Zoey informed him.

"I can only imagine."

There was a silence. Chase wasn't sure what to say. He didn't know how to comfort a woman who just lost her husband. It wasn't like they were young anymore and talking about juvinile things like who had a crush on who anymore. This was real life, and so far reality was smacking them both harshly across the face.

"So where have you been living?" Chase asked, finally.

"I live in Northern Wisconsin. A city called Hayward."

"How in the world did you end up there? I can't picture you living in Wisconsin!"

"Really? Where could you picture me living?"

"I don't know, L.A., New York, Chicago. Some place upbeat and quickly-paced."

"Well, I've converted. I'm 100 percent suburban now."

"Wow."

"I've even got the suburban mom hair," Zoey laughed.

"Well, I'm going to need to get over to Wisconsin. I want to see you," Chase said.

"Come any time. But Chase, I've got to go. My lunch break is going to be over in about ten minutes and I still haven't eaten my sandwich."

"Oh, of course. You go eat. I should get back to writing anyhow," Chase said.

"Talk to you later," Zoey said.

"Yes, hopefully soon," Chase added.

"Good-bye."

"Bye."

A/N: Yes, I did set part of the story in Wisconsin again. I have a freakish obsession with Wisconsin, what can I say?