Chapter 3
June 2014 - Los Angeles, California
"Chuck, Nate!" Serena yelled out, waving her hands emphatically to catch their attention. Within minutes, Nate had scooped her up in his arms, twirling her around in a circle, after which Chuck encircled her waist and planted a soft kiss to her cheek. "I can't believe you're finally here."
"I can't believe you live here now," Nate said with an air of longing – whether his sudden emotions were from jealousy or nostalgia he couldn't be certain.
"You look good, sis," Chuck noted. "Happy."
"I am," she replied, gifting them each with VIP lanyards and guiding them backstage. "I think I've finally found my calling."
Chuck's eyes traveled across the large room, appreciatively taking in the multitude of scantily clad women as seamstresses made frantic last minute changes to their assigned garments. "Perhaps I missed my calling," he murmured suggestively.
Serena rolled her eyes and nudged him on the shoulder in warning. "Behave, or I'll have to kick you out."
Her face softened just a fraction when he gave her his characteristic smirk. She knew that he still struggled, that he hadn't quite climbed out of the abyss that he'd fallen into, but seeing him like this – like the Chuck she knew before that disastrous summer of 2012 – gave her hope that he could one day find the happiness that always seemed just out of reach.
"The show doesn't start for another couple of hours." She checked her watch carefully, calculating the time she would need to return for final fittings and styling approval. "Are you guys hungry?"
"Starving," Nate chimed in, clutching his stomach dramatically.
Serena informed her assistants that she was leaving, and, after numerous warnings not to make any changes without her direct instructions, she led Chuck and Nate to a small cafe across the street.
"So," Serena said between bites of chips and salsa, "Nate, the Spectator is doing well?"
"Yeah, this is shaping up to be our most lucrative year yet." He smiled brightly, pride beaming through his pearly teeth. "If I can get one or two more exclusives then we're golden."
Serena pondered his words for a moment. "Okay, I can't say anything official yet, but I might have a scoop for you soon."
"I'm listening," he sat forward, arching his eyebrow in encouragement.
She laughed. "I said I can't say anything yet. Just know it'll be big when it breaks."
"Okay," he shrugged. "But I better be your first call."
Crossing her hand over her heart in the universal sign of an unspoken promise, she turned to Chuck, a bit more cautiously, and asked, "How's it going with Bart?"
Chuck inhaled through his nose, chewing slowly as he decided how to answer. Things were going well, but he was all too aware how quickly it could fall apart. "Defeating my father was never the answer. I went head-to-head with him too many times without really understanding his point. As much of a prick as he is, he's also a genius when it comes to business. My pride doesn't want to admit it, but there was a lot of truth to what he said. I worked hard, but I continuously put the company at risk for –" He stopped before her name slipped from his mouth, and it hung in the air between the three friends like stale perfume burning their noses. He cleared his throat to draw attention away from his slip-up. "Anyway, he was right that I had yet to mature. It's been a slow and arduous process, but I think he's seeing that I'm serious about upholding his legacy, not tearing it down. Bass Industries is my sole focus nowadays, and it's starting to pay off. Next month, he's supposed to announce me as COO."
"Oh, Chuck, that's wonderful," Serena smiled, her chest still throbbing from the near mention of her ex-best-friend's name.
"That's great, man," Nate agreed. "I'm happy for you." And he truly meant it; he wanted nothing more than for his friends to be happy. Serena was clearly flourishing in LA, Chuck was no longer a danger to himself, and Blair…well, she was getting there. She hadn't shed a single tear the last time they talked. Progress is progress.
Chuck let out a wry laugh. "I'm not too optimistic. Bart's gone back on his promises before."
After paying the tab and heading back, Serena directed Nate and Chuck to their seats so that she could work without distractions. When the lights dimmed, Chuck settled back into his seat, halfway paying attention to the models crossing the stage in front of him. The last time he'd attended a fashion show, a beautiful, doe-eyed brunette was on his arm, and his favorite part of the night was the private show she gave him on the runway after everyone else had left for the evening. It had reminded him of her dance at Victrola – she was equal parts naughty, sensual, and empowered. She revealed a side of herself that she reserved solely for him. He was certain that Nate, Louis, and (God forbid) Dan never saw that version of her – the wild temptress who didn't have any qualms expressing her deepest desires.
He knew that she was trying to run Waldorf Designs and that it had been a struggle. He had to physically stop himself from checking in on her - at least on Gossip Girl - every once in a while. It was a special form of torture to see her face, to read articles about her, but not really have any contact with her. The words on the screen were always so impersonal, and he longed to hear it from her, to know the true story instead of the fabrication of some half-witted journalist.
His life was better now; he was focused on work; he was making progress in the right direction. His emotions no longer controlled him, but that didn't stop him from thinking about her. He hated that a year and a half later, she still occupied a part of his mind. Even when he was free, she still had the upper hand.
"Wow," Nate elbowed him in the side, shaking him from his reverie. "Look at her."
He glanced up at the model on the stage and shrugged, "What about her?"
"That's Caroline Whitlock," Nate's eyes glazed over dreamily. "She's got to be one of the hottest women I've ever seen."
"Eh," Chuck scrunched his nose.
"What do you mean 'eh'?" Nate asked in disbelief. "Do you see her?"
"She's pretty."
"She's smokin', you mean."
Chuck watched the supermodel saunter down the runway, the designer dress flowing around her long tan legs. There was no doubt about it; she was a beautiful woman by even the toughest standards. The confidence with which she carried herself across the platform might just be the sexiest thing about her, though. Her eyes cut to the two of them, and a sly smirk crossed her lips for the briefest second before slipping back into a more professional countenance. There were secrets hidden in her eyes, a mischievousness that intrigued him.
XOXO
The three friends walked into the after party at a swanky club down the street a few hours later, drinks in hand, ready for a good night. Serena kissed each of the boys on the cheek, before heading off to mingle with clients and accept the praise lavished upon her. She was proud of the work she'd done and happy to live in a town where her talents were acknowledged instead of criticized.
At the bar, Chuck signaled the bartender to send a bottle of scotch to the VIP booth, and they made their way to the oversized chairs facing the dance floor. Nate took the one on the right and motioned with his glass, "She's here."
Chuck looked up to find him pointing directly at the model from the runway show. His gaze drank in the way her black mini-dress hugged her body. Every man in the place was ogling her, and he was in the mood for a challenge. "You going to talk to her?" he asked Nate, given the fact that he'd been the one so smitten by her.
"I wish," Nate sighed. "I'm still trying to make things work with Mya."
Chuck looked back at Nate, lifting his tumbler to his lips. "I thought you two broke up."
"We did, but we had a long talk before the trip. We're taking things slow to see if we can make it work, so hitting on Caroline Whitlock wouldn't be the wisest decision."
Chuck's eyes found the model once more, and something about her beckoned him to her. He'd been with plenty of models, and while she was beautiful, there wasn't anything overly special about her. He wasn't quite sure why he was so drawn to her, but he gave into his baser needs. Work had worn him down to the point that sex was no longer a regular occurrence on his agenda. He was by no means abstinent, but in the past year or two, his bed hadn't seen quite as much action as he was accustomed to.
He winked at Nate and made his way toward Caroline with a single-minded purpose.
She was seated at the bar, an empty champagne flute in front of her. Nothing about her appearance was inviting, which Chuck surmised was her way of keeping suitors at bay. He, of course, wasn't so easily deterred.
He slid into the seat next to her, resting his own glass on the counter in front of him. He let the silence linger between them for a moment, not bothering to acknowledge her presence right away. If he was right about women like her, one of two things would happen: either she would grow irritated by his inattention or her curiosity would get the better of her. Hitting on her immediately was likely to lead to her quickly shutting him down.
He ordered a second drink and sipped it with cool nonchalance; he didn't look in her direction, but he could feel her eyes on him.
After a moment, her voice spread through him like warm honey, but her dulcet tone was a strange contrast to the directness of her words. "Save yourself the trouble. I'm not going to sleep with you."
The corner of his lips pulled into an arrogant smirk. "What makes you think I'm trying to sleep with you?"
She turned her body toward him, shifting her weight in the chair. "You think you're subtle; you think you're charming and charismatic, and that if I'd just notice you, I'd fall into your bed like you're the one doing me a favor."
He quirked his eyebrows, oddly aroused by her harsh assessment. "Trust me," he husked, "Once you come to bed with me, you'll understand."
She let out a sardonic laugh. "God, does that really work?"
"It never fails." He signaled to the bartender to refill both their drinks. "Let me change my approach then," he licked his lips. "Tell me, how should I have approached you?"
"You shouldn't have," she responded, accepting the drink graciously from the young waiter who was clearly star-struck in her presence. "You lost all mystery when you approached me. A lingering glance is enough to catch a woman's attention without appearing desperate. Let me approach you."
"So what you're saying is –" He looked back toward the VIP section where Nate was chatting with a soccer player, "If I'd stay'd over there, eventually you would've come to me?"
She arched her eyebrows smugly, standing to her feet and tipping her drink in the air. "Guess you'll never know."
She sauntered off without looking back, but Chuck's eyes remained glued to her, watching her walk through the club and straight out the door.
XOXO
Summer 2015 – New York
"Adria," Blair called to her assistant from her office, "Have you booked all of the models for the spring line? I'd really like to schedule initial fittings soon."
Adria peeked her head into her boss's office, arming herself against the barrage of insults she was certain to face when she confessed the news that would cause the veins in Blair's neck to throb. "Don't panic; we've still got plenty of time -"
"Spit it out." Blair snapped, massaging her temple with her forefingers. This line had already caused her more stress than could possibly be healthy.
"Antonia Santos Silva just announced her pregnancy. By the show, she'll be too far along to walk."
Blair inhaled slowly, closing her eyes and counting to ten before responding. "The entire show is centered around her brand. We were counting on her name bringing the most publicity. Without her, we can't compete with Alberta Ferretti. We're slated for the same time slot."
"We just need another model," Adria suggested cautiously. "Someone whose name carries just as much clout as Antonia's."
"And where do you propose we find such a person?" Blair asked in condescension. She knew she was being a little too harsh with her most reliable assistant, but she couldn't bring herself to temper herself either. "All the most notable names would've been booked months ago."
"Well," Adria started, "Caroline Whitlock is in the middle of a major dispute with her management company, and there's a likely chance that she'll lose all of her contracts if things continue to erode between them."
Blair ran the name through her head, but came up empty. "Who is Caroline Whitlock?"
"She's fairly new, but she's making huge waves already. Some say she could be the next Gisele Bündchen."
"See what you can find out," Blair excused Adria before opening her laptop.
She opened Google and typed 'Caroline Whitlock' into the search engine. The first article that she opened discussed her lawsuit against Hartman Anderson, and Blair skimmed the article for details. It seemed that she had faced pressures from her management company to maintain an unrealistic weight, including allegations that they promoted unhealthy eating habits among their models, going so far as to prescribe illegal appetite suppressants to encourage weight loss.
Blair studied the photos of the model and immediately empathized with the feeling of being crushed by the weight of living up to impossible standards. In Blair's eyes, Caroline's figure was flawless; she had a similar body type as Serena, but with a smaller chest and more defined waist.
She considered what the implications of such a lawsuit would mean to her company. Though there wasn't a direct correlation, the publicity could focus on female empowerment – an ideal that she always thought Waldorf Designs embodied well. It didn't feel like a gimmick or a quick fix, and she found herself entertaining the idea of reaching out to the model. She felt a type of strange rapport with Caroline and her cause.
She scrolled through the next few articles, pausing at the first headline that didn't focus solely on Caroline's relationship with Hartman Anderson: Supermodel and Billionaire Heir Step Out Amid Lawsuit.
Her mouse hovered over the link for a few minutes while she mentally chided her foolish thoughts. Every time she read the words 'billionaire heir', she couldn't help but think of him, but it was just a strange coincidence. It had to be. There was absolutely no connection between them.
She clicked the link to put her mind at ease, but the image that loaded on the next screen shocked her heart into an erratic rhythm. Perspiration dotted her forehead, and her vision crossed as she scrolled down the page and photo after photo appeared on her screen. The pictures were blurry thanks to the poor lighting and undercover paparazzo, but she'd recognize him anywhere.
She blinked tears away, focusing on the clearest picture of the bunch. Her eyes narrowed in on the couple's clasped hands as they walked down the street. She couldn't see his face well, but his profile suggested that he offered the model a wide, toothy grin – the same one that he'd previously reserved only for her.
Her heart stuttered again, and she downed the glass of ice water on her desk before yelling out to Adria. "Forget Caroline Whitlock," she barked. "Find someone else!"
XOXO
Present Day
"Hey, man," Nate clapped Chuck on the back before kissing Caroline on the cheek. "Hey, Care."
Caroline smiled back at him and gave Chuck a peck on the lips. "I'll leave you be. The spa is calling my name. Don't get into too much trouble," she winked. "We have an early morning."
When she was out the door, Nate said, "How about a change of plans tonight?"
"What've you got in mind?"
"Instead of going out -" He held up a familiar metal case that Chuck recognized immediately. "How about we stay in?"
Chuck laughed aloud. "You want to get high?"
"Come on," Nate prompted. "I miss old times."
Chuck nodded, amusement twinkling behind his eyes as he and Nate ascended to the upstairs patio overlooking the city. They settled into the large lounge chairs, and Chuck took several long drags on his joint. They sat in silence for a long time, their bodies and minds relaxing as the weed took effect.
"You ever wonder how we got here?" Nate spoke aloud a while later.
"Hmm," Chuck sighed, closing his eyes as he leaned back further into the cushions. "What do you mean?"
"It's just funny that this is where we ended up."
"Yeah, life is surprising sometimes, I guess."
"I have to say, I never thought that you would be the first of us to get married." Nate watched the clouds drift across the sky, and he felt his inhibitions surrendering to the feeling of euphoria.
"It's not that surprising," Chuck murmured quietly, kicking his feet up onto the ottoman in front of him.
"Huh?"
"I bought a ring once before, remember?" He pressed his lips into a thin line, his head hazy with too many thoughts for his current state of mind. "Before I ever met Caroline."
Nate paused when he realized who Chuck was referring to. It was the first time in years that he'd willingly brought up his past with Blair. "Do you ever think about her?" he asked carefully.
"Who?"
"Blair," he answered softly, reminding him who they were talking about.
Her name lingered in the air before settling all around them. Nate feared for a moment that he'd gone too far when the silence stretched between them for several minutes. He held his breath, waiting for his friend's temper to explode and he pulled out his flask to drown out her memory.
When Chuck finally spoke, his voice was calm and even, so quiet that Nate had to strain to hear the response. "Of course, I do."
Nate let the admission linger, allowing Chuck time to decide which direction he wanted to take the conversation. Eventually he turned his head toward Nate, and asked with full sincerity, "You still talk to her?"
"I do."
"Hm," was Chuck's only reply as he motioned for Nate to follow him back downstairs. "I want to play pool."
Nate felt like he was entering uncharted territory, so he simply nodded and joined Chuck. He racked the table while Chuck poured them each a drink, but he kept an eye carefully trained on his friend, surprised to find that he didn't really react to their previous topic of conversation.
Chuck lined up his shot for the break, and the striped 9 ball sank into the corner pocket. He swallowed a swig of scotch after missing the second shot. Nate positioned himself around the table, and Chuck spoke cooly, his tone betraying none of his emotions. "How is she?"
Nate blinked, so unaccustomed to this level of openness with Chuck that he worried that the joint had been laced with something stronger. "She's -" he trailed off, watching the white ball bounce off the wall and miss the one he was aiming for. "She's okay, I guess. Life has been hard for her lately. She doesn't have many friends."
Chuck looked up, his eyes masking the concern that pricked at his chest. "She and Serena never made up?"
"I tried," Nate admitted, "But after Serena moved to California, there wasn't much point anymore."
Chuck turned his back, occupying himself with chalking his cue stick. "Is she seeing anyone?"
Nate wished he could see Chuck's face; even after years, he still wasn't great at reading his friend's expression, but it was at least more useful than staring at his back. He felt like any moment he could step on a landmine. "No, she's not seeing anyone."
The tension in Chuck's shoulders relaxed, and he turned back around. "Well, I hope she has someone looking out for her."
"She's got me," Nate responded. "Her parents, Dorota, this girl at work, Adria."
"That's good," Chuck exhaled, ready to change the subject as his high started to subside, but Nate had to push him a little bit further.
"She knows you're getting married."
The tumbler in Chuck's hand fell to the pool table with a thud, and Nate could see his jaw lock under the pressure of his gritted teeth. "You two talk about me?"
"Not usually," Nate answered honestly. "But she brought it up the last time I saw her."
"Why would she do that?" Chuck swallowed hard, his knuckles whitening as he gripped the pool stick in his fist.
"I don't know how to say this without just coming out with it -"
Chuck made an impatient gesture with his hand, urging Nate to get to the point.
"She wants to see you -"
"Who wants to see you?" Caroline called as she kicked the door closed with her foot.
Chuck didn't respond. He continued to stare at Nate, his eyes unblinking, his fists clenched and his heart pounding.
"Hey," Caroline approached them, wrapping her arms around Chuck's waist. "Who wants to see you?"
Chuck cleared his throat, turning so that he could return his fiancé's hug. "No -"
"Blair wants to see him…and meet you," Nate cut in quickly before Chuck could formulate a lie. He knew it was reckless to speak on behalf of Chuck, but he was so tired of being in the middle of his friends – of tempering his words and splitting his time. Even if it ended in disaster, at least he would know that he tried, and maybe on some level, he could help Blair find the peace that she deserved.
"Oh," Caroline's arms dropped from Chuck, "That's unexpected."
"Caroline," Chuck started, "It's not going to happen. I don't know where this came from, but -"
"You're close with her right, Nate?" Caroline asked. He nodded, and she said, "And Serena?"
"They were the closest," Nate explained. "It's really sad how things ended between them."
"She meant something to you, too," she spoke quietly to Chuck. "We're getting married. Let's start our marriage without anything between us. This - she - has been the one thing that we've never been able to talk about."
"Caroline, you don't need to prove anything by -"
"I'm not threatened by her, Chuck, but there's a small part of you that you've always kept closed off – even from me. I think you need to do this. You said yourself that things didn't end well between you; maybe this is a chance to make amends – for you and Serena."
Chuck closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. He wanted to hurl the 8 ball at Nate for carelessly bringing up Blair in Caroline's presence.
"It's one dinner," she placed her hand gently on his forearm. "You can say no, and I'll never mention it again, but I think it could be good for you."
"It's out of the question," he rasped, his voice thick with emotion.
Nate nodded, defeat outlining each of his features. "Sorry I asked, man. I was out of line."
XOXO
Blair awoke to her cell phone vibrating on the nightstand beside her. She lifted her sleep mask and read through blurry vision: Sorry, Blair. I tried. He's not ready.
She let out a groan and tossed the phone onto the comforter beside her. She should've known better than to rely on Nate's ability to persuade someone as hard headed as Chuck.
Replacing the mask over her eyes, a small smile spread over her lips. She had nothing left to lose, so she'd just have to take matters into her own hands. Chuck might be strong-willed, but no one was more stubborn than Blair Waldorf on a mission.