The Model Agent
By SarahsSupplyCloset
Author's Note: Hope everyone is doing a lot better these days. I know I'm still scared and hiding away in my apartment by myself because of a virus but the future looks sunnier. We have to survive to January. Hopefully my various stories help get some of you through all of this. Thank you for the reviews. Please keep them coming.
Summary: Sarah Walker's modeling career is in its budding stages when the CIA recruits her into their ranks at 16. 10 years later, she's balancing being a world famous supermodel and actress with spying for the CIA. Her existence is fraught with danger and she's constantly on the go, until she meets a disarmingly sincere man on the beach...and her life is changed forever.
Disclaimer: I do not own CHUCK. I am not making any money writing this story.
Sarah glanced at her watch and took another deep breath.
She'd done this a million times over now. She'd made speeches, she'd spoken to ambassadors, she'd gone to the UN to address the body. She was a regular Princess Diana.
At least, that was how Casey had put it.
Even though deep down she knew he had a lot of respect for her, he still sometimes called her a "damn socialist".
Sarah Walker had been invited to a charity dinner specifically to speak on the issues of sex trafficking and its victims. It was a topic she knew a lot about, not just from the activism perspective, but from her work with the CIA as well. She'd been instrumental in stopping a crime ring that was funneling young girls from Northern Africa into the upper echelons of Eastern Europe. Making appearances at functions like this, speaking with Russian diplomats and Czech politicians, secretly taking pictures and taking voice recordings, wiretapping private phonecalls. It was an entire operation that no one but Casey, Diane Beckman, and Langston Graham knew she was even involved in, merely the starlet and celebrity everyone wanted to meet and speak with. They wanted see if she was as beautiful and graceful in person as she was on paper. General Beckman had mentioned once that she was like the modern-day Grace Kelly, but if Grace Kelly had been picking off communists at the same time as modeling dresses.
The other agents who'd been assigned to this operation hadn't even known about her involvement.
They never did.
It was the biggest rule of the Walker and John Casey could never be known as CIA/NSA operatives, even to other CIA/NSA operatives.
Her usefulness would cease to exist, she'd no longer be the lethal secret weapon CIA Director Langston Graham had honed over the years.
But if her outer persona could be put to use to raise money for a cause that might stop the horrid kidnapping and sexual abuse of young girls, she'd do all she could.
It just so happened another man the CIA put a target on would be at the function as well. And Casey was tasked with the most difficult part. While she distracted George Von Schtrupp, billionaire CEO of a corrupt drug company, with her speech about the dark underbelly of sex trafficking in Los Angeles, Casey would plant a bug on him.
She had yet to see her partner in the crowd tonight, and she'd been there for 2 hours now. Standing backstage, listening to the long winded introduction she was getting from the host of the event, and she felt sort of guilty for thinking that about Norm Alston because he was sincere about this cause as well but…really, he was going on and on, Sarah realized it had been a while since she'd even heard from Casey.
He'd dropped her off, parked in a safe place, put on a waiter disguise, and snuck back in so that he could get close to Von Schtrupp and plant the bug. Typically in a situation like this, her partner would try to find her in the crowd and make eye contact just so they were on the same page, so that she could recognize him and know who to look for if she needed back-up.
This time, she hadn't seen or heard from him since she got out of the car.
And now that she was thinking about it, it made her nervous.
Sarah quietly slinked away from the small group of staffers waiting for the applause to start and usher her onto the stage to give her speech. And as she got far enough away, she lifted a finger to press against her ear where the earpiece was, speaking clearly into the CIA-provided bracelet she was wearing. "Am I coming in?" she asked quietly.
There was a short crackling sound in her ear, and then his voice came up. "Clear. The hell you doin'? You're s'posed to be on stage any second. Something up?"
"Norm is on a roll, it might be a while yet. Nothing's up. Just want to make sure you have an eye on VS."
She could hear his smirk in his voice. "I see the fucker. Yes, ma'am, you're very welcome, ma'am," he said to a guest, handing out champagne or hors d'oeuvres apparently. "Anything else I can get you, ma'am?" He made a whiney grumble a moment later. "I hate this."
Sarah bit her lip to keep from showing her amusement then turned towards the curtain behind her, her back towards everyone. "Well keep your eye on him, please, because I'm going to be on that stage and I can't see shit with the crazy bright lights in my eyes."
"I've got the rest of this gig. Just do your thing. I'll let you know after your speech is over when I've done the job."
"Got it."
She lowered her arm back to her side and rushed back to the staffers right as Norm announced, "Let's hear it for Sarah Walker!"
Running a hand down the front of her gown, she plastered a massive smile on her face and walked gracefully out onto the stage, waving as she moved to join Norm Alston at the microphone.
Now she just had to make sure she remembered the damn speech.
But this was what she did best.
So she held her head high, thanked Norm, and dove straight in.
+—
"It's done."
Sarah sighed inwardly in relief as she shook hands with people offstage, thanking them for their support, and then she was granted a reprieve, just for a moment, as she was by herself in the hallway leading back out onto the main floor of the ballroom.
"Great work, partner," she said into her bracelet.
"Yeah, yeah. I'm contacting Graham to let him know the bug is set, and then I'm going out to the car to listen to Neil Young and smoke a cigar. Text when you need pick-up."
She giggled. "Neil Young and a cigar? That's specific."
"Don't knock it 'til you try it, kid. And remember, avoid contact with VS. Don't go anywhere near 'im." She nodded, even though she knew he couldn't see it. They didn't want there to be any suspicion in Von Schtrupp's mind about her if he somehow found the bug and tried to figure out who'd planted it. He'd go down the list of the people he'd been close to, and she didn't want to be on it.
"Got it. Hey, one last thing."
"Hm?"
"You wearing a mustache?"
"Shut up," he grumbled.
She laughed, then composed herself and walked back out onto the ballroom floor. Casey hated wearing fake mustaches. It was the bane of his existence as a spy. But he had to wear them all the time. She sometimes wondered if he'd rather get shot than glue that hair to his face.
The speeches were over and the donations had been collected. People were dancing now, the champagne was flowing, laughter and gossip making its way around the room.
Sarah was able to make her way to the table of champagne in the corner without drawing attention. At least, that was what she thought.
She was wrong, though. She hadn't escaped everyone's attention.
As she looked up at the tower of delicately stacked champagne flutes, she felt more than heard someone at her elbow.
"It'd be cooler if they actually filled the glasses first, then stacked 'em like that."
Her heart jumped into her throat as she whipped her head around and came face to face with him. Again. He had an amused look on his handsome face as he refused to tear his brown eyes from the flute tower, said eyes absolutely sparkling.
Biting her lip to keep from showing too much of the almost overwhelming pleasure at seeing him again, she turned back to stare at the tower as well. "It'd be a waste of champagne. Nobody would want to take a glass from the tower for fear they'd knock the whole thing down."
"Is that a little bit like how people don't ever take the last of something on the shelf at stores?"
"Not really," she said, and he chuckled.
"Okay, fine. I guess not." Then she watched as his hand shot out and picked up a glass. He moved it to hover in front of her and she took it, pursing her lips.
"Thank you."
"You're welcome." He picked up one of his own. But before he could say anything else, before he could start up a full-blown conversation, Casey's voice popped into her ear again.
"New plan. We had it brought to our attention that Phillipa Fredericks is there. Introduce yourself. That's someone we can use in the future."
Sarah felt her heart drop to her stomach and she sighed.
"So…uh…"
Inwardly cursing, she turned her head to him. "I have business I need to attend to, but then I'm going to get some fresh air. Outside."
She put specific emphasis on the last part and he blinked in confusion, and then it seemed like what she'd said settled in his mind and he smiled a little.
"Walker? You hear your orders? Clear your throat if you can't talk."
Sarah lifted her fingers to tuck a bit of hair behind her ear, then cleared her throat near the bracelet, pressing down on the earpiece momentarily.
"Good. Talk later," Casey said and he was gone again.
"Yes, of course." The man standing beside her cleared his throat. And then he looked down at the flute he was holding, biting his lips between his teeth as if to repress pleasure at her blatant invitation.
And then she took her champagne and walked away. She knew who Phillipa Fredericks was. Everyone did. And she was going to find the woman, make her introductions, ensure the powerful woman would remember her in the future, and get outside as soon as she could.
Hopefully she wouldn't find herself alone out there when she did.
+ —
The night air was cool and a very welcome contrast from inside. She shivered a bit and shut the door behind her, making her way out onto a back veranda that she found was completely vacant.
She'd been clear enough, hadn't she?
That she wanted to see him, talk to him, away from everyone else? Or maybe he'd been offended that she didn't want to talk to him when he approached her, and he hadn't picked up on her invitation. Was he still inside wondering why she'd brushed him off?
Damn it.
But she decided to step down from the veranda onto the grass lawn and keep looking, just in case.
Maybe the tech CEO had enough of the veranda scene and went exploring a bit deeper into the yard. It had taken her over 10 minutes to finish talking to Phillipa Fredericks. But the contact was secured.
Maybe he'd grown bored and decided to check the expansive yard out.
It was then that she turned and spotted the large glass greenhouse in the corner, and she thought she might've seen some movement inside.
Something about him deciding to go into the greenhouse made her insides feel warm. It was endearing, wasn't it? She didn't quite know why. He was an explorer, or perhaps a plant enthusiast. A man after her own heart.
She went to the greenhouse, her steps quick but careful, as she was walking in grass with heels and didn't want them sinking.
And then she popped open the door, the creak echoing inside. She was hit by an almost musty warmth, but it wasn't exactly unpleasant as much as it was just different from what she'd been prepared for.
And she stepped inside, walking along the gravel path through the greenery, looking at all of it, smiling to herself.
That was when she saw him leaning down to look at a flower, his shoulders hunched, narrowing his eyes as he took in the lovely blue petals. He had that glass of champagne, or maybe a new glass, clutched in his hand, and the other hand was stuffed in his pocket.
He then straightened up and turned to fix her with those eyes, genuinely pleased to see her. She could feel it. And she related. Hard.
Hard enough that she felt a massive grin sprout on her face.
"Are you stalking me?" she asked, tilting her own glass of champagne a bit flirtatiously.
Chuck Bartowski raised his eyebrows. "Me? Stalking you?"
"Mhm. Showing up at the same event where I was set to make a speech? Quite the coincidence, there."
He narrowed his eyes and reached into the inner pocket of his suit, pulling the benefit's program out, turning it around, even upside down in his fingers. "Huh. I'm looking on this program and I don't see the name Sarah Walker on it anywhere. Not sure how I could've known you'd be here."
"Sure. Right. Uh huh." She sipped some champagne as he slowly moved closer to her, his steps precise and measured. "You had no idea I'd be here."
"Trust me, if I had known you'd be here, I would've made it my business to find you the second I walked through that door."
Sarah felt something behind her bellybutton turn to liquid. Hot liquid. That was quite a thing for him to say. And she smiled at him to let him know.
"As it is, when our esteemed host came up on stage and started introducing you and I saw you walk out there, I nearly fell on my ass. And I sought you out the second you ended your speech."
"So you did stalk me. A-ha!" she teased, her insides beaming light. She could almost feel it streaming out from the tips of her toes and her fingers.
He laughed. "Only to the champagne table."
"I don't quite believe you," she flirted.
"Hey, you're the one who followed me into the greenhouse."
"You followed me first."
"Excuse me?" His eyes sparkled with humor. "I just so happen to be a…plant enthusiast. Okay?"
Sarah laughed, shaking her head, deciding to keep her own feelings about plants a secret. "Right. A plant enthusiast." They chuckled together and she sobered up a bit. "I'm sorry I was kind of rude in there. I really did have business to take care of but I also wanted to…talk to you. Away from the crowd."
"What? Sarah Walker, there is nothing you can say to me that you can't say in front of my friends. All 159 of them."
She burst into laughter and couldn't help putting a hand on his lapel, smoothing her fingers down it, then feeling his tie as well. Almost as if she had to check that he was really here. It was just so insane that he was here and she felt so glad. "What are the odds?" she breathed.
"Crazy, isn't it?" he asked, shaking his head. "We seem to run in similar circles in spite of being in two very different industries, and we've somehow never run into each other before that day at the beach…"
"And now we can't stop running into each other," she finished for him.
"I'm not complaining."
"Neither am I."
When he smiled at her, she felt a rush of something in her chest. A kind of comfort, relief that she was here with him after being in there with all of them, and…a sort of safe feeling, too. Like she was untouchable in here, in this greenhouse, standing in front of Chuck Bartowski.
"How are you?" he asked. And it wasn't just that he asked it, it was the way he asked. As if he actually wanted to know. And she realized she couldn't remember the last time someone had stopped her and actually asked that question. Sincerely asked.
Not even Casey, Beckman, or Graham, who knew how much pressure they all put her under. Not Tyler, who also put her under a lot of pressure, though in a very different and less deadly way.
And not for the first time in the last ten years, she wondered if she was being taken for granted.
"Honestly?" He nodded. "A little tired but not so bad."
"Hm." He sighed, then took a sip from his glass. "Physically tired or emotionally slash mentally?"
"All of the above?"
"Damn."
"I'm not complaining. It's just how it is sometimes. But how are you?"
"Not too shabby, currently."
"Well, sure. You're a plant enthusiast in a greenhouse. You must be on Cloud 9."
She loved the feeling she got from seeing and hearing him laugh, knowing she'd done it, knowing she'd put the massive smile on his face and the glint in his eye.
"I'm so glad you're here," he said, shaking his head in awe. "I can't believe that you're here."
"I was invited to speak."
"I know," he chuckled. "I saw your speech. I heard it."
She bit her lip, suddenly feeling almost a bit shy. He'd been in the room, he'd heard what she had to say about stopping sex trafficking. She'd spoken before large crowds before. She was an actress for fuck's sake. Technically, she'd spoken in front of millions. She'd also walked down hundreds of runways in front of hundreds of people, and sometimes in clothing that revealed quite a lot.
But for some reason, knowing he'd been there in the room while she gave that speech made her feel self-conscious, nervous.
"Sarah, I think it's incredible. All teasing aside. Seriously. What you're fighting for…It's more than just a worthy cause. And I don't know about anyone else in there, but you had me hanging on every word. I can feel your passion. I heard how much this means to you. There's a reason why folks reached for their check books in there when you finished speaking."
Sarah smirked a little bit. "It's kind of required. I mean, not really, but you know…folks in these circles talk if you leave without offering up a donation."
"And you're taking advantage of that."
"Oh, absolutely!"
They laughed together and she brought her glass up to take a sip. "It is important to me," she said once she swallowed. The things she'd seen when they'd busted that sex trafficking ring in Minsk were scarred into her brain. She never wanted that to happen to anyone else ever for the rest of time.
And then something occurred to her as she swung her gaze back to meet his. "What are you doing here?"
"I was waiting for you to ask that," he said quietly.
"You mean just like I asked the last time I found you at one of these?"
"Yep." He let out a cute giggle. "I was invited by Norm Alston." She tilted her head at him, wordlessly asking why he'd do that. "Oh, I've got a lot of money." She smirked and he shrugged good-naturedly. "I don't mean to sound super cynical like that. I'm not cynical about it. People like me should be inundated with invitations to things like these. I should be writing the big checks."
Sarah pursed her lips, watching him closely. "You're an interesting guy, Chuck Bartowski."
He furrowed his brow at her. "Am I?"
"Yeah." She nibbled her lip, still watching him. "I've been around a lot of people with a lot of money, and not many of them would say what you just said. Typically the more money a person's got, the less they want to part with it."
"Well don't give me too much credit for doing something I should be doing." He shook his head. "The things you said in your speech, what people are going through, kids, little girls…"
"Shocking, isn't it?" He nodded mutely. "All I can do is go to bat for them in the only way I know how."
This time he gave her a long look. "I admire you for it. And I admire you for your speech up there tonight."
"I have a brain in here." She pointed to her forehead. "Crazy, huh?"
He gave her a flat look. "Not for a second did I think you were stupid or whatever it is you're insinuating."
"The blond hair, the legs, and the modeling and acting career fool a lot of people. You'd be surprised." She raised her eyebrows, pressing her lips together a little bitterly.
"No, I wouldn't," he said, shaking his head. "People love to make assumptions. Not much humans are better at than judging each other."
She giggled, widening her eyes. "True."
"How about this?" Chuck stood up a bit straighter and switched his glass into his left hand, then he stuck his right hand out between them for her to shake. "No making judgments about each other at least, and we'll shake on it."
Grinning, she took his hand. It felt nice and cool from the glass he'd been holding, and his grip was strong but gentle all at the same time. She didn't want to let go so she didn't, just holding on, looking into his brown eyes. "I'll shake on that." Then she felt a bit of mischief make itself known in her breast. "Does that mean I don't get to assume you travel around the Nerd Tech Incorporated campus on a hoverboard?"
He cracked up, squeezing her hand. "Oh, man, that sounds so cool! I wonder if I can work something out."
She laughed and shook her head. "Please don't do that."
"Okay, fine. Seriously, though, I refuse to do the whole golf cart thing. That's way too Asshole With Lots of Money. At least a hoverboard is cool. Rest assured, I walk from my office to my meetings."
"Good," she said, giggling. Their hands were still wrapped together between them and she had no intention of being the one to let go.
He narrowed his eyes then, and his gaze dropped to their hands, before slowly sliding up her arm, her shoulder, her neck, and finally latching onto her own eyes. "Do you want to—?"
The door creaked loudly behind Sarah and loud giggles exploded into the greenhouse. She spun on her heel to look at the couple laughing as they opened the door to stumble in, kissing sloppily.
Before she could act, she felt an arm wrap around her waist from behind and she was gently but adamantly pulled out of their line of sight into the next row over behind a line of vine-like hanging plants.
She was suddenly pressed close to Chuck in the dark, looking up into his face as he kept his arm around her waist. And he lifted his other hand and pressed his finger to his lips. But the look on his face was almost enough to make her break into a fit of giggles as they listened to the loud smacking of lips and moaning. It was a mixture of mortification and anguish.
But Sarah found herself ignoring whatever was going on with the clandestine couple near the shrubs by the door she'd just walked through not 10 minutes earlier.
Because there was a sliver of moonlight coming through the roof of the greenhouse, painting a pattern across Chuck's face, and he was watching her quietly, and the soft scent of flowers surrounded them.
Chuck winked then nodded his head at something over her shoulder. She glanced in the direction he'd gestured and saw a door at the back of the greenhouse that was left wide open.
When she turned around, Chuck put his finger over his lips again and stepped around her, his arm loosening around her waist and instead grabbing onto her hand. She bit her lip when he moved past her, heading for the door, and she let him pull her even as she rolled her eyes up to the moon, sighing.
So close.
Well not so close. But it could've been.
She heard sounds being emitted behind her she decided not to dwell too much on, instead focusing on sneaking out of the door with Chuck. And he didn't stop tugging her along until they found a small clearing in the yard that looked out over a sweeping seascape.
Sarah gasped a little at the vision, coming to a stop next to Chuck.
"Well, that got intense real quick," he muttered, making her giggle. "Like, they understand a greenhouse has glass walls, right? Like, it's see-through. Yikes."
She full on laughed this time. "I'm not going to judge them."
"I kind of am. Just a little bit." He held up his hands in surrender when she smirked at him. "Just being honest. I'm judging them a little bit."
"Okay that's fair." She gestured to the sea then. "This is ridiculous."
"Yeah, it is, isn't it?" And then she saw him turn and glance down in her peripheral, so she turned as well, giving him a questioning look before she also dropped her gaze. Oh. They were still holding hands.
They both let go at the same time. She crossed her arms at her chest, fiddling with her glass between her fingers, and she wasn't sure, but she thought she'd maybe seen a shiver go through his hand she'd just been holding onto. And that made her feel breathless.
It didn't feel like she was alone in this. The pull between them. But she wasn't absolutely sure.
"A couple of weeks ago, you almost killed me in that exact same ocean. Isn't that crazy?"
She let out a boisterous laugh, having to lean forward, nearly slopping the bit of champagne that was left over the edge of the flute still clutched in her fingers. "Oh my God, seriously? I did not almost kill you. Dramatic much?"
"An inch to the left and your board would've taken my head right off my shoulders, Sarah Walker, and that's a fact."
"It is not," she laughed, gaping at him in teasing disbelief. "At worst, you would've gotten a concussion."
"Could've lost an eye."
She cracked up, shaking her head. "Oh my God."
"I think we're cursed, you and I," he said, chuckling, leaning over to nudge her shoulder with his, making her smile up at him. "I think the way we ran into each other in the water that day—"
"Oh so we ran into eachother now? Finally you admit it."
He laughed. "Yep. And I think that made it so that we've got this invisible tether or something between us. Or, like, a bungee cord."
She threw her head back with a laugh, blinking up at the stars. "A bungee cord. Definitely."
"Yeah," he said, chuckling as he nodded. "It's cursed us to keep running into each other and ending up in people's backyards trudging through squishy ground together." He picked his one foot up and looked down at the grass beneath it. The ground was a little soft here, as if it had been watered too much.
And almost as if he'd just cursed her in particular, she giggled and shifted her weight, causing her heel to sink into the ground and tip towards him with a squeal.
Chuck acted fast, stepping close and catching her easily against his chest, one hand clasped around her bicep and the other latching onto her hip.
She gave him a wide-eyed look, her chin on his chest, and she giggled again, a bit manically as her heart slammed inside her chest from adrenaline. "Um, yes. The ground is…what'd you say?"
"Squishy."
"It's squishy." She cleared her throat and tugged her heel out of the ground, slowly peeling herself away from him. He kept his hands stretched out towards her just in case.
"Just don't fall in that direction, okay? I don't want to do any reenactments of the Oscar winning movie, Cliffhanger."
"That won Oscars?" she asked, giving him a look.
"No," he chuckled, and she laughed. And then he wrinkled up his face and squinted. "Remember, shithead. Keep your arms and legs inside the vehicle at all times." He kicked his foot out with an, "Ah!"
Sarah laughed. "Oh God, was that supposed to be Sylvester Stallone?"
"Yes."
"Was that a line from the movie?"
"…Yes."
"How do you have any of the words from that movie memorized?"
He winced. "I busted myself, didn't I?" She hummed in the affirmative and he winced harder. "Should've really caught myself on that one. You make the filter not work too well," he said, pointing to his mouth.
"Is that so? Should I be offended or is that a compliment?" She gave him a look, amused more than anything.
"Compliment, definitely. You're so…I dunno. Chill. It makes me feel comfortable and the filter doesn't work. Obviously. But it's probably not that great for me." He grinned slowly and she felt her heart beating against her ribcage hard.
"Don't worry, I'm not going back inside just 'cuz you quoted a bad movie at me."
He looked offended immediately. "A bad movie? Have you even seen Cliffhanger, Sarah?"
"No. And I'm not going to."
"How dare you, John Lithgow shines."
She laughed. "Okay well maybe I will go back inside."
Sarah made like she was going back in and he chuckled, grabbing onto her arm to keep her from leaving him behind. She staggered back towards him and giggled, looking up into his face.
And they settled into a comfortable silence. Her eyelids fluttered shut as a breeze moved past them, playing with a bit of hair that had escaped the intricate bun a stylist had put into it for this event. She pushed the hair out of her face and behind her ear, and then she thought about the man standing beside her right at that moment.
She thought about the time between when she'd seen him last and tonight. It had been a few weeks. And she'd thought about him more times than she probably should have. She hadn't even spent that long with him that night, and the impression that small amount of time in his presence made on her was immeasurable. It had tweaked something inside of her, even if she didn't know what exactly it had tweaked.
And she'd told herself numerous times when she caught herself smiling, thinking about him again, that Chuck had already Googled her by then and was probably counting his blessings he wasn't getting caught up in her world and everything that went with it.
But here he was. Again.
She opened her eyes again and glanced over at him. He lifted his glass to his lips and emptied it, then squinted out at the moonlight dancing on the water out in the distance. A breeze picked up his curls he'd probably put some effort into to make neater for this function. Being out here had nullified whatever he'd done. But she personally didn't mind it at all. In fact, what she wanted to do was push her fingers through it. But she kept her hands to herself instead and wondered if he had Googled her. A quick search of Sarah Walker might do the trick.
It'd break that "curse" he talked about, the invisible…bungee cord between them.
"Do I have something on me?" he asked then, swinging his brown eyes over to look at her. "Did a bug from the greenhouse get on me?"
She giggled, finding him so freaking endearing she could barely stand it. "No. No bugs. Don't worry. Sorry, I, um, didn't mean to stare."
"Oh, s'okay. You can stare. I'll just look back atcha like this." He made a crazy face at her and she laughed.
"I'm okay with that."
"You are? Damn."
Sarah watched as the wind picked up his tie and flapped it up over his shoulder. Without a second thought, she reached over and fixed it for him, running her hand down it. "Ever hear of a tie clip, CEO?"
"Oh. Right. Well, in my defense, there's no wind in there." He gestured towards the mansion with a flick of his thumb.
"That is true."
"You can be my tie clip while I'm standing out here. I mean, if you don't mind." He shrugged and gave her a crooked smile. "What I mean is I wouldn't mind… if you wouldn't. What am I even saying?" He shook his head at himself, looking genuinely embarrassed.
He was too adorable.
She tangled her fingers in the lapels of his suit jacket and moved up onto her toes to lean in and press her lips to his cheek, mere centimeters from his mouth. "You're really overdoing it with the cuteness."
"Am I? Should I rein it in?"
"Please don't."
He laughed and she thought she spotted a blush on his cheeks. She wanted to press her lips against his face again. She wanted to wrap her arms around him. She wanted to stay out here, the air nice and chilly, the goosebumps on her arms, the slight shiver.
Then again, that might've been how close he was standing to her. Or was she standing close to him?
Too close?
She smirked to herself. Not too close.
"You ever think about how charity galas like this are always at one of these big mansions with the expansive grounds and the greenhouse and the garden and this… Versailles-looking labyrinth or whatever…" She giggled. "Like, I wanna be invited to a charity gala that's at the local rec center. Someone's giving a speech and you can hear sneakers squeaking on the basketball court in the next room over, the ball hitting the rim, yelling 'BLOCK FOUL!' 'Nah, man, you charged me!'"
Sarah laughed, hugging herself and shaking her head, finishing her champagne. "That sounds kind of nice."
"Right?"
"These people would never, though. Are you kidding me?" She shook her head then. "I hate how I sound when I say that. Like an ultra-rich person shitting on other rich people while she's in the exact same place they're in, doing the exact same thing they're doing. These people do a lot of good."
He shrugged, watching her quietly. "Most of them do. Yeah."
"But it's for show for some of them, too. And I wish I was better at picking those people out of the crowd." She sighed. "I guess as long as the money is going where it's needed, motive isn't that big of a deal, huh?"
"That's a good point." He pursed his lips. "They're helping people whether they want a blue ribbon from the public and the press for it or not."
"It's hard not to get annoyed."
He was quiet for a few moments, and then he said, "Yeah. I get that."
Sarah paused then, chewing her lip, glancing over her shoulder up towards the main building. And then she turned back to look at him. "I do sound like a total jerk, don't I? Whining about the people in there. And when I go back in I'm going to talk to them and make connections like I haven't just been out here talking shit. I'm just as privileged as they are."
He wrapped his free hand around her wrist and just gave her a little squeeze, his hand warm, his brown eyes soft. "I'm not about to toss you to the wolves, don't worry, Sarah. I get the need to vent about some of…" He flicked his empty glass towards the house. "That stuff in there. It is not my world by any stretch of the imagination. If I didn't have the money I have, if my company wasn't as successful as it is, I would never get an invitation to this place, no matter how great the tablets my company puts out are." He snorted. "Chuck Bartowski doesn't get invitations to shindigs like this." She snorted this time. "What?"
"Shindigs?"
He gave her a flat look. "Charles Bartowski, however, he does. CEO of Nerd Tech Incorporated? You better believe that guy gets an invitation. Deep pockets."
"Are you boasting?"
Chuck laughed. "No. It's just a fact. It isn't anything I typically like to talk about if I'm honest." He turned to squint out at the ocean. "But it's a fact about my life. I have lots of money. I can't hide from that."
"But you can give it away." He gave her a questioning look. "Sorry, I didn't mean to, but I, um, overheard some things about you."
"You did?"
"Mhm. Last time. At Priscilla Renton's charity event. I just so happened to hear people talking about how you're an exemplary man. An exemplary CEO who has the respect of his employees." He gave her a dubious look. "I swear to God, it was something I heard that night. After you rushed off." She gave him a wry look and he winced.
"God, I didn't want to go. I really, really didn't want to. I regretted it so much even though I had to do it."
"It's okay," she chuckled. "Business is business. It was important."
He huffed and shrugged. "Yeah. It was. But I hated it all the same."
"Chuck, they said you give a lot of your money away at things like this."
Chuck swallowed loudly and shrugged again. "I might. But like I said earlier, shouldn't I be doing that? Shouldn't I be finding ways to make use of the money I've got in a way that helps as many people as possible?"
She smiled quietly and stepped in close. She loved the way he'd just said that. He had no airs about him. He just sincerely believed it down to his very soul. "So the rumors are true, then."
"I dunno. I don't really know all you heard about me."
"Just that so far. And what I said about your employees. They apparently love working for you and NTI."
"I'm glad." He said it so matter-of-factly. "I strive to make my employees happy, to make them love the work they're doing. That's how I operate best when I have work to do. I work best when I'm happiest."
"And how well is your work going now?"
She didn't mean to ask something so personal, but she felt so comfortable standing here with him, like they were old friends who'd known one another forever. It was just how he made her feel.
Chuck frowned a little, question in his handsome face. But then he must've put together what she meant, because a slow, wry smile swept over his features. "Um… Hard to say. My work is just fine, but it certainly isn't…at its best."
Sarah searched his face. "It isn't?"
He shrugged. "Not really." He looked a little tentative, like maybe he was questioning whether getting so personal out here in someone else's yard with this model he barely knew was entirely appropriate. But she wondered if she made him feel as comfortable as she felt with him. She didn't think it was possible. She wasn't as warm and as open as he was. Nevertheless, he continued. "It isn't that I'm unhappy. Or that I'm not happy, even. It's that I'm a little worn-out. Drained."
Sarah bit her lip and nodded slowly. "Mmm. I get that. From work, or…?"
"Uh, work, yeah. Life. You're a model, an actress, right? A full-fledged celebrity?" She blushed and nodded once. "I don't have it nearly as bad as you. No paparazzi hanging around me. Nobody needs to know where I am or what I'm doing 100 percent of the time." Yeah, that definitely got old, she had to admit. "I think I've just been overworking myself. Which isn't good, but it's really…all I have. It is everything. This company is my life." He sighed. "And you?"
"Me?"
"Yeah. You said earlier in the greenhouse that you're tired. But are you unhappy too?"
She nibbled on her lip, not sure she really wanted to answer that. But he'd given it to her when she'd asked. "N-Not unhappy per se," she finally admitted after an uncomfortable pause. "I might…need a bit of a break, though."
"From what? Work?"
"Everything," she breathed in frustration. "All of it. These things. The photoshoots, the film and TV shoots, the traveling all over the place, never getting to sleep in, ugh!"
Chuck laughed at the last part. And then he sobered up and sighed. "Maybe you can take a vacation…"
She didn't mean to give him such a flat look, and she felt like an asshole when he chuckled and held his hands up in surrender, wincing. He didn't know her life, he didn't know what her existence was like. He had no idea that even when everyone else on the planet perceived her as the blond bombshell captured by paparazzi lounging on the beach in some French Riviera town she was actually there for work. Her other work. There was no vacation. There was no break. Because if she wasn't getting information, taking clandestine photos, etc for the CIA, she was doing her "day job", modeling, acting, romping along in all the big celebrity scenes so that she could use her connections when she needed to…
How would he know that? This guy who spent all his time with his head buried in computers and codes and whatever else was involved in being the CEO of NTI.
"I'm sorry," she said quickly, grabbing his hand and squeezing. "It's just… That's not what this…existence of mine allows. I mean, even on vacation I'm working. Usually." She squeezed his hand again. "I can't expect you to just automatically know that about me. All of this?" She gestured towards the house with her empty champagne flute. "That's 24/7 for me. I can't afford to slip for a second, or let any of the opportunities pass me by." He looked a little confused at that and she sighed, comforted by his presence if only because he didn't understand this world he apparently dipped his toe into only here and there when he was invited to a "shindig" like this. His separateness from all of this made her feel so relaxed and calm. "I'm in a business that doesn't have much longevity unless you play your cards right, Chuck."
Both of her businesses, but in very, very different ways, she realized.
"Ah," he said then, nodding. "So you'd better play your cards right. Is that it? Or the job's kaput."
"Something like that. And I love what I do. I don't want to lose it."
"So…24/7."
"24/7." She nodded emphatically, a bit of a wry smile on her face.
"Well, be that as it may, Sarah Walker, I think you should still give yourself a break. Especially if you're feeling tired. Not that I've got any business telling you about your life or what to do. I know what it is to…overdo it with the whole workaholic thing. Especially lately, I've been running myself a bit ragged. You'll never believe it but this? This has been a massive break from what might've been another late late night of working with some of my top engineers trying to iron out some big awful wrinkles in one of NTI's new prototypes. Instead, they've got the much-needed night off and I'm here. With you." She felt a lightness in her chest at that. "Point is, I-I don't know. I don't know my point."
Sarah giggled, fixing his tie again when a breeze picked it up. He made a giggle sound of his own when she did, and she felt something inside of her melt immediately. "I have to admit, tonight has felt like a massive break for me too. Not when I was on my way here, knowing I'd be having to make that speech." She widened her eyes. "But this. Right now. Is a break. I feel like a load is being lifted off my shoulders."
"I'm telling you, it's those plants. They're so peaceful, it's why I'm such an enthusiast."
She laughed. "What it actually is…is you. CEO of Nerd Tech Incorporated."
Chuck sighed slowly, his features dreamy as he peered down at her. "I don't know what I could've possibly done to lift that load off your shoulders."
"Well for one, you've yet to hold me to certain expectations. You don't expect anything from me, you just let me exist in peace." She huffed and rolled her eyes.
"Man, what kind of shit do people usually make you deal with?" She shrugged as he frowned deeply. "Ya know what? I couldn't stop thinking about that day at the beach when you almost killed me…" He got an amused but very flat look for that one. "You were 100 percent sure that I was gonna sue you. And you were really confused when it didn't even occur to me to do that. People really do put you through some shit, don't they? Since you're…I guess…well um…famous."
She sighed. "I don't want it to seem like 'oh woe is me, all of my fame and fortune, it's so hard', because I am absolutely blessed with everything that I have. But being…Sarah Walker…comes with consequences. I've weighed those consequences and I've decided to continue because this is the career I want."
"And the life you want?" he asked. When she studied him, he shrugged. "Another sincere question. I'm not judging you or second-guessing you."
She smiled at him, then nodded her head. "Yeah, it is. I love it. Even with the consequences. The thrill of all of it. That feeling of having this massive platform and being able to make a difference with it. It's…not something I can even describe with words."
"Well, there has to be a way to do both." She knew he had no idea she worked with the CIA. But her hackles were raised anyway as she peered at him. "Have the career you want, and still allow yourself to step back and take a break when you need it." Oh. The hackles lowered again, but he must've seen something in her because he swallowed and snuck a bit closer, concern in his face. "Did I say something wrong? If I overstepped, I apologize."
"No, no. No, you didn't, it's okay. You're right. I was just thinking about how right you are." That was only half a lie. She hadn't been thinking about that, but he was right. "Maybe it's something I'll get better at as time goes on. Though…I've admittedly had a decade to try to do this and I've only gotten a little better. A little." Then she winced. "That's a lie. I'm terrible at it."
He laughed. "Well, I can relate."
And even though she knew he couldn't relate to everything, she felt the warmth of being in the presence of someone who maybe at least understood a little bit. "Workaholics unite?" she tried, looking at him through her eyelashes.
He looked back and grinned hard at her. "Workaholics unite."
She grinned back and clinked her empty glass against his, making him laugh. It flooded her with good feelings, that sound. And she wanted to stay here forever.
"Thank you," she said softly, then. He had a question in his handsome face as he watched her silently. "Two events in a row now where you've made me feel less…erm…out of place." He gave her a dubious look, even as the warmth was there in his face. "No, I know. That is exactly the crowd I spend most of my time with, I'm always at things like this, and that isn't going to change anytime soon. I just feel a little like a peacock at times, and you've made me feel like…a person. So thank you."
"You're welcome."
Sarah Walker felt something pass between them as they stood there overlooking the Pacific coastline a few miles to the west. She didn't feel she was at all mistaken that there was a connection. It had happened that day on the beach a few weeks earlier, and then again at Priscilla's benefit. And now here.
What was it?
She wasn't sure. But it filled her with excitement.
"I wanna go down there," he said then, nodding in the direction of the ocean.
"Down…there? Like to the water?"
"Yeah." And when he turned to face her, his eyes were tentative with invitation. The excitement increased, adrenaline going through her. "Out to the water, dip my toes in. Or whatever." He snorted at himself.
God, she did too. "R-Right now?"
"Yep. I, um, I know that…er…" He turned to look back towards the house. "Well, I won't be missed much but you might be. Maybe there's a back way to get out of here. And I've—"
The sound of her phone vibrating split through the air and she froze, her heart that had been hammering against her ribcage stilling for a moment. Fuck her, she'd subtly turned her earpiece off so that she could have at least some semblance of peace with this man she liked a whole lot, even if for only a few minutes. And Casey had probably tried to talk to her and was worried because he hadn't gotten a response.
She huffed and fished her phone out of her handbag, allowing Chuck to pluck the champagne flute from her fingers and thanking him distractedly. It was Casey. "Uh, I'm so sorry. My, uh, agent," she said.
"It's okay! Answer." He gave her an understanding smile.
"Thank you." She took a few steps away from him, turning her back as she answered. "What is it?"
"The hell's wrong with your earpiece."
"Um…it must've cut out," she lied, taking a risk saying that and hoping Chuck didn't figure out just what had cut out. "What's up?"
"Just got word from LG. You an' me need to be wheels up tonight. They already have a plane waiting for us in Burbank. Quick two day gig in Puerto Vallarta."
"Is this an emergency situation?"
"Aren't they fuckin' all?" he groused.
Sarah shut her eyes tight in regret. God damn it. "Which means I have to hightail it out of here, huh?"
"Yep. Already got the car running."
For once, Sarah just wanted to be able to say no. She wanted to stay here and revel in Chuck's presence and talk to him and learn more about him. She wanted to go to the water and be totally alone with him in the dark, nobody else around, the waves lapping at their toes. Instead, she nodded. "Alright, I'll get to the car as soon as I can."
"Good."
Sarah hung up and glared up at the moon. It didn't do anything to her and probably didn't deserve it. Or did it? Being all romantic and providing the perfect lighting for this very nice rendezvous with Chuck Bartowski, CEO of Nerd Tech Inc that she'd been enjoying.
And now it was over.
Again.
She turned on her heel and sent him a smile full of regret. "My agent has a meeting I have to get to."
He frowned a little, glancing at his watch curiously. "At this hour?"
"These things happen at every hour, unfortunately. One of those night owl artistic types." She made a pfft sound and rolled her eyes. "It's…important."
"Right. Of course. No, you gotta. You gotta go. I get it."
Sarah closed the distance between them without thinking and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, hugging him tightly. She didn't want to let go, especially when he hugged her back as best he could with a glass in each hand. She turned her face into his neck and took a deep breath, reveling in his strength and comfort for just a few moments longer, and then she finally pulled back and reached up to gently touch his face with just the tips of her fingers. "I wish I didn't have to go."
"Me too," he said immediately.
She felt her phone buzz once in her bag and she knew it was Casey texting her to hurry her ass up. So she squeezed Chuck's wrist, biting her lip, hating how bad it felt to step away from him.
"Have a good meeting," he said as she finally started the painful walk out of his warm orbit and back up towards the house. She looked at him over her shoulder and smiled.
"Thanks, Chuck."
It wasn't until she was in the back of the car two minutes later with Casey rushing away from Norm's mansion that she realized everything had ended so quickly, she'd neglected to get Chuck Bartowski's contact information yet again.
But she had to believe this might happen again now that it had already happened twice.
She had to believe she would run into him again.
Don't worry, Sarah, you will. -cracks knuckles- Just you wait.
Please review this. It means a lot to me. Thank you. Stay safe, please.
SarahsSupplyCloset
