A/N: A huge thanks to all of my reviewers. You guys rock. Also my roommate rocks who made me keep writing this week despite my lack of energy or enthusiasm (v. bad week, you know how it goes). So without further ado...
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Christian calls Thursday afternoon while I'm considering an outfit for the evening. "I'm guessing you're riding with Chase Everhart," he says.
"Yeah," I answer, feeling slightly guilty. "I was going to call you..."
"No you weren't. You were going to assume I'd figure it out." Christian is hard to read over the phone. I can't tell if he's amused or pissed off. I know I'm being a little flaky, because I've got that feeling in my gut that I'm screwing Christian over here. But I'm still making excuses.
"You've got Jen and Sophie now, anyway."
"I do," he says matter-of-factly, so I still can't tell how he's feeling about this. I'm struggling for something else to say, which is an unusual thing when I'm talking to Christina. But he cuts the conversation short. "I'll see you there, anyway. Talk to you later, Beck."
I barely say goodbye before he hangs up.
I think about calling him back and apologizing, because whether he means to or not he's giving me quite the guilt trip. But I've still got to pick out an outfit. And I'll see him there.
When Chase picks me up at 6:30 I'm dressed to kill, and still feeling guilty. Chase notices my little black skirt and red wrap shirt appreciatively. A small triumph. By the time we get to the theater I've talked myself out of apologizing to Christian, especially after I see him. He's got Jen and Sophie and no room to talk. On his part, he doesn't acknowledge me either. We all head inside to our seats. I'm by Chase.
Taylor senses the tension between Christian and me and makes sure she sitting at my other side. "What's going on?" she asks, glancing quickly towards Christian who is four seats away from me. We're like this: Chase, me, Taylor, West, Jen, Christian, Sophie.
"Nothing," I say deliberately, "is going on." Really, nothing is. What can I do if Christian is being a pain in the ass?
Taylor shrugs like she doesn't believe me, but lets that one slide. She'll probably grill me later. For now, I turn to Chase for better conversation.
Seeing Sophie Walker has reminded him of something interesting. "Want to hear a scandal?" he asks.
Me, I'm all for scandals. Especially ones that involve people I don't like. "Yes, please," I answer, drawing the sentence out a little.
"Well," he begins, leaning towards me confidentially, "You know she's got an apartment now, with Natalie Banks, and she'll be here for likely the rest of the year?"
I shrug and shake my head. "I know as little about the girl as possible."
Chase laughs. "Anyway, apparently this Walker girl is something of a piano-extraordinaire, and that's not something her and Natalie fit into there budget. So guess what shows up at their apartment yesterday?"
He's got to be kidding. I give him a look of disbelief that begs him to continue.
"A piano," Chase supplies."Dude," I'm dumbstruck. "Somebody bought the girl a piano? Nobody buys me pianos."
"I don't know," Chase shrugs, looking down at me sideways. "Christian might."
I ignore the innuendo. "No, Christian would tell me to buy my own piano."
"Speaking of Christian, is there a reason he's sitting halfway across the world from you?"
"Probably," I roll my eyes. I really don't want to talk about Christian. "But it's definitely not as interesting as Sophie Walker's piano. Who do you think bought it for her?"
"Well," he begins, but now the play is starting. "Intermission," he promises.
I pout. "You'd leave me in suspense that long?"
"I sure would, babe," he says. And so it's settled. He'll tell me the rest at intermission. I really don't mind waiting.
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At intermission we all file into the lobby. Everyone's engaging in conversation about the play, but I pounce on Chase and drag him away from the rest as to hear his version of this Sophie story.
"What?" he asks innocently, like he doesn't know what I want to hear.
I scowl at him in mock annoyance. "You promised. Who bought her the piano?"
"I don't know for sure, Becka. It just a theory, you know."
"Whatever. Let's hear it."
"Okay. Well, Sophie has this best friend in London, right? Lauren Campbell, who she was staying with while she was over there. half a year ago Lauren married this guy Joseph Dixon. Now I've got in from some pretty reliable sources that there was definitely some history between Joseph Dixon and Sophie Walker, but she turned him down. After that he got with Lauren and married her pretty quick. Now Lauren Campbell's a nice girl, but definitely not exotic like Sophie is, her being a model and all. So here's what I think. When Sophie went back to London, Joseph Dixon must have started to fall in love with her again. That's why she left. It's her was of turning him down again. And him sending her the piano is his way of saying he's not letter he go."
I'm just staring at him by the time he's done. "That is so convoluted."
"Deliciously convoluted," he agrees with a roguish smile.
God, he's sexy.
"So you think the piano's from Joseph Dixon?" I ask.
"That's my guess. Anyway, it makes a good story, doesn't it."
"Mmm. Yeah. It's like an episode of The O.C."
Chase laughs. The play's about to start again. "Come on, he says, placing his hand on the small of my back to lead me back inside. It's nice. Really nice.
Once we're back inside, Taylor catches up to us. She links arms with me and pulls me forward, away from Chase, a little. Then she chides, "You and Chase are being rather exclusive tonight," But she's smiling while she says it. We're both happy about this, Taylor and me. She wants me with Chase almost as much as I do.
"I know," I reply. I'm not one to get giggly over a guy, but I'm smiling all the way across my face right now. It almost makes me want to take a step back—I'm not one to let myself go so quickly. But this is Chase Everhart. This is meant to be.
"Have you heard about Sophie's piano?" I ask, to change the subject and also because it's very interesting to me at the moment.
"That some one got her one? Yeah. What, did Chase tell you who the mystery lover is?"
"Well, he's got a theory," I admit.
"Oh," Taylor says importantly. "Well, I've got my own theory about that."
I can't imagine what she's talking about. "What? Who do you think bought it for her?" We're sitting down now.
"I'll tell you later," she says.
No! What is it with everyone leaving me hanging tonight? "Taylor!" I complain. "Just tell me!"
"It's starting," she whispers, pointing towards the stage," I laugh. "Fine, but you'd better tell me later.
"Oh, don't worry about that. It's too good to keep to myself," she assures me.
I roll my eyes. "I'm sure."