Chapter 10
Serena curled her feet under herself, the cheerful countenance plastered to her face not daring to betray her conflicting emotions. Blair had spent the better part of the last 30 minutes regaling her with stories of both encounters with Chuck, purposefully leaving out the part where they discovered someone had interfered with their ability to communicate. Until she and Chuck had a chance to talk through their plans on Saturday, she didn't want anyone else involved.
Guilt twisted violently in Serena's gut as Blair's eyes twinkled with hopeful optimism. For a long time, she'd justified her selfish choice to play God with her friends' lives; she'd even allowed herself to blame Nate for falsely insinuating to Blair that she'd caused a spiral so catastrophic that Chuck had been suicidal. She'd figured that intervening for a short while so that Chuck could heal away from Blair was in their – okay, his – best interest, and that, eventually, they might find their way back into each other's lives. Now, seeing the way Blair came alive at the mere mention of his name, she knew that they'd made an unforgivable mistake by interfering.
"So, you two are friends again?" Serena asked, hopeful that everything had worked out in the end - that maybe friendship would be enough to heal years of pain and heartache. She knew that her wishful thinking was for naught as soon as she saw the flicker of doubt cross Blair's face.
"I mean, yeah, I guess that's what we are going for," Blair's words held a hint of sadness that pricked at Serena's pounding heart. "I'm glad he's back in my life, even if it wasn't entirely voluntary on his part."
"Oh, B," Serena reached her hand across the sofa and placed it on top of Blair's thigh. "Trust me - I'm certain that he missed you as much as I did. We're all just so stubborn –"
Blair inhaled slowly, letting air fill her lungs. Stubbornness, immaturity, and egotism had kept her and Serena apart, but she knew it was more than that with Chuck. They were two of the most stubborn people on the planet, but even their strong wills wouldn't have been enough to keep them away from each other for this long without outside interference.
"I don't know," she said quietly, "After that night in 2014, it felt like…I thought…" She stopped, unable to force the words past the lump forming in her throat.
"Wait." Serena's brows furrowed. "What night in 2014?"
"He didn't tell you?" Blair asked.
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Wow, I figured he'd told you or Nate, but I guess it makes sense that he would've kept it quiet." Blair sighed in a vain attempt to guard herself from the emotions certain to resurface from reliving the details of that night. "Shortly before Bart died, I randomly ran into Chuck in the park. At first, it was sad and awkward, but he said he didn't want to leave things like that. He walked me back to my place, and I invited him up for cake -" She smiled sadly at her unintended double entendre that in another lifetime Chuck would've appreciated.
Serena's heart and mind raced at a dizzying speed. Up until this moment, she'd been certain that Blair and Chuck had barely spoken to one another in the years leading to Bart's death. "What -" she swallowed, "Then what happened?"
Blair worried her bottom lip between her teeth, blinking away the tears that threatened to spill. Her voice shook as she answered, "We slept together…we missed each other so much, and the spark between us was as strong as it had ever been. He told me that he was about to move to California, but -" she sniffed. "He chose his words so carefully, but it was clear that we both hoped that we would be able to be together in the future – after Bart's treatment and Chuck's transition to COO."
Panic worked its way into Serena's chest. She and Nate had sabotaged their best friends' chance at happiness. A heartbreaking confession and a desperate plea for forgiveness stalled on her lips, but she couldn't bring herself to say anything. What good could come from Blair or Chuck knowing the dark truth? Selfishly, she finally had her friend back, and Chuck was happily engaged. While it might not be the future they'd hoped for, they were both on track to a fulfilling life – Chuck in his relationship and Blair in her career.
Instead of speaking the words that would give credence to her guilt, she reached over and gently squeezed Blair's hand. "I'm so sorry, B." And she meant it with everything in her – just not in the sympathetic way that Blair interpreted it.
Blair gave her a watery smile, shaking her head and standing from the bed before any other vulnerable emotions could color her features. "That's life, right?" She began rifling through her closet, just to turn her back to her friend in an attempt to neutralize the expression that tried to betray her deepest feelings. "Crying over the past does no one any good. I've got you back in my life, and I might one day have Chuck's friendship back. Not to mention that I am about to be the creative lead behind the fashion campaign of the year. I'd say things are looking pretty damn good."
Serena could read the doubt in Blair's voice, but she didn't say anything. All that was left was the slight hope that Blair's words would soon become reality – for all of their sakes.
XOXO
Chuck's vision slowly came into focus as he was roused from his sleep by a wandering hand under the sheets. His body reacted to the soft touch, and he let out a low groan that Caroline immediately misinterpreted as an indication of pleasure. With a grin, Caroline slipped beneath the covers, kissing a trail down his chest to the waistband of his pants. Her intentions were clear, and, while Chuck would normally welcome such a wakeup call from this gorgeous woman, his mind was still plagued with the events of the previous night.
Gently, he pushed her up by the shoulders and extracted himself from the bed without an explanation. He didn't bother looking back at her, knowing that her gaze would be filled with hurt and astonishment. Chuck never turned down morning sex, no matter what he had planned for the day.
He made his way into the bathroom, locking it behind him before stepping under the spray of the showerhead. He wasn't intentionally trying to hurt her or make her doubt herself, but, aside from his complicated conversation with Blair, he was still seething over the search history he found on Caroline's computer. It would be one thing if she'd just been up front with him and asked those questions herself, but Googling his relationship with Blair crossed a line that he wasn't ready to face.
When he exited the restroom, fully dressed and ready for the day, he found Caroline resting on the edge of the bed, a light robe wrapped around her lithe frame. She held a cup of coffee in her hand and immediately set it down on the table beside her. What he'd imagined had been sadness melted into exasperation as she demanded, "What was that about?"
"I've got an early meeting," Chuck said dismissively, fastening his watch around his wrist. "I'm days away from closing this deal with Beckett Wilder."
Caroline let out a sigh, reading the lie that so easily slipped off his tongue. Okay, maybe it wasn't exactly a lie; this deal was important to him, but it was still a convenient excuse.
"We need to talk," she prodded.
"We can talk this evening. I've got to get to the office to make sure I have everything in order before Wilder arrives. He's a stickler for promptness and professionalism."
"Chuck," Her voice was gruff with frustration. "I really need some clarification about –"
Chuck gave her a cold smirk on his way out the door. "Why don't you just Google it?"
XOXO
Blair huffed, impatiently tapping her stiletto against the marble floor as she waited for the elevator to take her to the forty-fifth floor suite that she had rented for today's model call. Normally, she would put Adria in charge of casting the lesser models, since she'd already secured Caroline as the lead, but she had too much riding on this particular campaign to put her trust in anyone else's hands – no matter how capable her high strung assistant was.
When the doors finally opened, she quickly scurried into the shaft, mashing the buttons before anyone else could enter. Just as the doors slid together, a hand came between them, opening the elevator once again. Annoyance flickered over Blair's features as she let out an audible sigh, crossing her arms over her chest.
The man who stood opposite her gave her a smug yet apologetic smirk. "Sorry," he said in a smooth, low accent that most certainly didn't originate in New York. "Forgot my briefcase."
He extended a hand to press the button for the 50th floor, causing the tension in her shoulders to relax a little more. "Well, at least, you aren't going to delay me any more than you already have."
"In a hurry?" he asked, his green eyes dancing with amusement.
"Not at all," she mused. "But punctuality is an important quality in a professional. I don't accept tardiness from my employees, so it's important that I lead by example."
"A business woman, huh?" He not-so-subtly raked his eyes over her body, taking in the Chanel pencil skirt she'd paired with a fitted blazer and four-inch pumps.
Her eyes hardened, as she quickly assessed the stranger. He was handsome, wearing a classic three-piece suit with Gucci loafers. His dark hair was combed to the side, and his golden skin appeared to be well-maintained with an expensive skincare routine and regular facials. In a matter of seconds, she pinned him as a typical rich chauvinist with southern roots that nearly guaranteed his belief that women belonged at home with a brood of children and her grandmother's recipe book.
"Rest assured," she gave him a haughty smirk, "That the deal I'm about to seal is undoubtedly far more lucrative than wherever you're headed looking like a poster-boy for the 30 under 30 section of Forbes."
"Whoa, there." He held up his hands in surrender. "Please retract the claws. I meant no offense. My apologies."
"Perhaps next time, don't make sexist comments to women you don't know, and there will be no reason for claws to begin with."
He leaned back against the wall, crossing one foot over the other as he studied her. She felt a shiver slide down her back, but she ignored it in favor of the anger she still felt swelling in her chest. There was nothing she hated more than being underestimated, especially with no grounds for such inaccurate and biased judgments.
"Truly," he said, a slight drawl pulling her eyes back to his face. "I wasn't trying to be sexist, and I'm sorry I came across that way. Where I'm from, it's rare to see a woman so bold and confident in her career – and even more rare for her to put a dumbass like me in his place. It's refreshing." He let a small grin tug at the corner of his mouth. "I was just impressed. Honest."
Her face softened slightly and she said, "Well, you should get used to it around here."
His eyes sparkled as he replied, "I think that's definitely something I could get used to, especially from the likes of you."
She rolled her eyes good-naturedly. It had been so long since she'd done this with a man, and she had to admit that she missed this kind of attention. "You're a shameless flirt, aren't you?"
"Not typically, no," he grinned sheepishly, showing off a deep dimple dipping into his left cheek.
"What's different this time?" she asked.
"A wise man once told me that you miss 100 percent of the shots you don't take."
"And what makes you think you'll make this one?" She arched an eyebrow and let the small grin spread over her lips.
"I have no idea," he answered. "But some risks are worth taking. If I walked out of here without trying, I know I'd regret it."
"Well, then," Blair prompted. "Give me your best shot, and we'll see if it sticks."
"Go out with me for drinks Saturday?"
She crossed her arms over her chest once again, putting on a show of feigned disdain at his proposition. "And why should I have drinks with a stranger who all but insulted me in the first few words he spoke to me?"
He placed his hand jokingly over his chest. "So that I can make up for my stupidity, of course."
"Hmm," she sighed. "Sorry. I have plans for Saturday night."
"Cancel them."
"I can't."
"Sure you can."
"I don't even know your name." She shook her head with a laugh.
He smirked and held out his hand to her. "I'm Beckett Wilder."
"Blair Waldorf," she placed her hand in his.
He turned her hand over, placing a chaste kiss to her knuckles. "It's a pleasure, Blair Waldorf," he murmured, slipping something from his jacket pocket. He placed the card into the palm of her hand and said, "If your plans change, call me."
She stepped off the elevator, glancing back to see him wink at her just as the doors slid closed.
XOXO
"Thank you for helping me pick models today," Blair greeted Serena as she entered the large space that would serve as their makeshift runway for the day.
Serena grinned brightly. "What's that giddy look on your face about?"
"I have no idea what you're talking about," Blair denied, but she couldn't hide the pink blush spreading over her cheeks.
"Nuh-uh," Serena shook her head, "I know that look. Who is he?"
"No one," Blair laughed, waving her hand dismissively. "Just a guy I met on the elevator five minutes ago."
"Wait, what?" Serena squealed in obvious excitement. "You met a guy?"
"It's nothing. We just flirted a little. That's all." She nodded toward the couch. "Now, we're here for work. Help me review these portfolios before the models show up."
"Nope, you're not getting out of this that easily." Serena lightly pulled Blair down onto the couch beside her. "He was cute, wasn't he? Tell me he was cute."
Blair laid a stack of portfolios in her lap, creating a discard file for models who wouldn't make it to the first round of selection.
"Well?" Serena nudged her.
"He was gorgeous," Blair grinned.
Serena clapped her hands excitedly. "So when are you going out with him?"
Blair hesitated. "I'm not."
"What?" Serena slammed the portfolio Blair had in her hand closed and turned her body toward hers. "Why not?"
"I don't know…" she sighed. "He asked me out for drinks on Saturday, but I've got plans to work that evening."
It wasn't exactly a lie.
"Nope. I would be a terrible friend if I let you do this. You're going out with him. Did you get his number?"
"He gave me his business card." Blair held out the black card. "But I -"
Serena snatched the card out of her hand before she could object further. "Ooh, Beckett Wilder. Sounds sexy." She grabbed Blair's phone from her purse and began typing a message.
"What are you –"
"You can thank me after you finally get a long overdue orgasm from Mr. Wilder."
Blair groaned, reading the message that Serena had sent Beckett, confirming she would very much like to have drinks with him Saturday night. "Ugh, I hate you," she whined.
But when a notification popped up on her phone, reading 'Can't wait ;)', a small bubble of excitement swelled in her stomach at the possibilities. What harm could one little date do, right?
XOXO
At eight, Chuck finally filed away the signed contract. Wilder certainly drove a hard bargain. Chuck'd nearly lost his cool at least three times before they came to a compromise – one that left him with significantly less profit than he'd anticipated. Either way, it was still a smart move, even if he hated the smug southerner with everything in him. If he didn't have to work with him, Chuck would've admired the man. Beckett was nearly as ruthless in business as he was, but the way he smirked when he knew he had Chuck cornered irritated him to no end.
As he exited the building that housed the Bass Industries headquarters, he allowed himself to check his missed calls and messages for the first time since he'd arrived at the office. Four missed calls and six unread text messages from Caroline told him that she hadn't forgotten about his promise to talk tonight, but he'd rather have a root canal than sit through that discussion after the grueling negotiations he'd just endured for the better part of the day. He knew he wasn't being fair to Caroline. He could be angry with her and still treat her as a man should treat his fiancé, but, selfishly, he couldn't go through with it. He needed to wrap his mind around this whole situation with Blair before he could confront Caroline's lies, and, even though they'd had a good time last night, he knew she had questions about his relationship with Blair. He wasn't sure he knew how to answer those questions – or that he wanted to for that matter.
So instead of keeping his word to Caroline, he quickly typed out a text telling her that negotiations were ongoing, and he probably wouldn't be home until late. Then he swiped away all of his notifications and called Nate.
"Hey, man, what's up?" Nate answered on the second ring.
"Feel like getting wasted tonight?"
Half an hour later, Chuck and Nate stood around the pool table in his penthouse at the Empire. Chuck lined his cue stick up with the striped 10 ball, only for it to knock in Nate's solid 2.
"Dammit," he cursed under his breath before bringing his scotch to his lips.
The new position gave Nate the advantage to sink two more balls. Chuck was too busy pouring his second drink to notice. Nate raised an inquisitive brow, and asked, "Isn't Caroline leaving for California tomorrow?"
"Yes," was the only response Chuck offered.
"And instead of spending the evening with your fiancé, you're playing a half-hearted game of pool with me?"
Chuck shrugged, lining up his next shot.
Nate pressed further. "Is everything okay with Caroline?"
"Stay out of my relationship, Nathaniel," he groused.
Not heeding his warning, Nate asked, "Does this have something to do with Blair strong-arming her way back into your life?"
Chuck's grip tightened around his glass. "I said," he enunciated between gritted teeth, "Stay the hell out of my relationships."
"Relationships? Plural?" Nate arched an eyebrow.
"Fuck you," Chuck growled, tossing his cue stick onto the table. "This game is over."
Nate exhaled sharply, shaking his head. He'd dealt with enough of Chuck's mood swings in his life to know what spurred this one.
"Okay, Chuck, go ahead and do what you always do and self-destruct because you're too scared to face your problems head on. It always comes back to Blair." As Nate shrugged into his jacket, he warned his friend sternly, "Whatever is going on between you two, you know Caroline doesn't deserve this. Figure your shit out. Call me when you're ready to face reality."
XOXO
Chuck awoke with a groan to a loud and incessant pounding on his door. He blinked rapidly and yelled, "Go away!"
"I apologize, Mr. Bass," an anxious voice carried through the door. "It's just that Miss Whitlock has been calling all morning. She said she needs to speak to you."
Shit. Chuck looked around his bedroom. He was still fully dressed with a large brown stain smeared across his dress shirt. He'd had every intention of returning to the home he shared with Caroline last night; he'd just planned to arrive late enough that she'd hopefully be asleep and he could avoid that conversation she kept asking for.
"Message delivered," he growled. "Now leave."
He sat up, reaching for his phone, letting out another groan when he read the time. It was an hour past time for Caroline's flight to depart. She'd be furious with him, and he couldn't really blame her. He quickly dialed her number, clearing his throat as he heard the familiar message: You've reached Caroline Whitlock. You know what to do.
"Caroline." He tried to sound as apologetic as he felt, but he knew that burn of the alcohol he'd consumed the night before still lingered in his voice. "I'm sorry about last night. I didn't want to wake you, and my alarm didn't go off this morning. Call me as soon as you land. I love you."
Several hours and a hot shower later, Chuck felt more like himself. He'd acted so stupidly. He was engaged to Caroline; she was his future wife, and he treated her carelessly. With his priorities resolved, he gave the order to the Empire staff to plan an elaborate surprise engagement party for Caroline the next weekend. Surely there was no better way to show her how committed he is to their relationship than a huge public declaration. He'd even invite Blair; then there could be no question in anyone's mind where his true loyalties lie. He could be angry that she'd violated his trust, but he could also see why she might doubt him. Her insecurities were not entirely unfounded.
He tried to call her again, but her phone went straight to voicemail. He'd already called ahead and had dozens of roses sent to her hotel. Hopefully, she'd call soon, and he could properly apologize for his behavior.
He scrolled to the contact that still made his chest ache, his finger hovering over her name for several seconds. It was probably in his best interest to cancel his meeting with Blair tomorrow. She was right when she'd said no good could come from it. He sighed and set his phone down on the table beside him. Canceling might be the right thing to do, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. He could justify keeping a secret part of himself with Blair until they uncovered who'd messed with their lives. Giving up before they even started felt like metaphorically cutting her out of his life again. They would see each other, but they wouldn't have this shared purpose that he wanted to hold onto a little longer.
Abruptly, the chime announcing visitors sounded, and he looked back to find Blair standing in the foyer, her bag clutched nervously in front of her with both hands.
He immediately stood, brows furrowed. "What are you doing here, Blair?"
The question came out sharper than he intended, and he saw her knuckles whiten as she gripped her bag tighter. "I'm sorry. I'll go."
"No," he spoke more gently, approaching her and taking her bag to rest it on the entryway table. "I'm just surprised to see you here. I thought you were coming tomorrow."
"I was, but –"
Before she could explain further, Chuck's phone vibrated against the table. He cursed silently when he saw Caroline's name flash across the screen. She always had the worst timing. He held up the phone to Blair and whispered, "I'm sorry. I've got to take this."
She nodded, swallowing hard. "I can go -"
"No. Take a seat. I'll only be a minute." Before she could object, he answered the phone and headed into the master bedroom. "Hey, Caroline," he spoke gently. His voice was purposely soft and soothing. "I know, and I'm so sorry."
Blair flinched as the door to the bedroom clicked shut. She'd never felt so awkward in Chuck's penthouse before, but everything in her screamed that she needed to leave now. Pulling out her phone, she tried to distract herself from the muffled voice carrying over from the other side of the wall.
Every once in a while, he would raise his voice, and she couldn't help but listen closely to what was supposed to be a private conversation.
"I love you," she heard him huff out in clear exasperation. "My history with Blair is irrelevant to how I feel about you. I know, but –"
Blair's throat constricted, and she stood to leave. She shouldn't be hearing this. She shouldn't have put Chuck in this position to begin with by getting involved with Caroline. As she yanked her purse from the table, the strap tangled around a vase, sending it crashing to the floor. Glass exploded all over the hardwood, a few shards nicking her exposed legs when she didn't jump out of the way in time.
"Shit, shit, shit," she muttered under her breath, clamoring to the pantry in search of a broom and dustpan.
The bedroom door was thrown open, and Chuck's eyes flew from the shattered vase to Blair's bloodied leg. Panic carved itself into her features, and she said, "I'm sorry –"
Chuck immediately held his finger up to his lips to shush her, and she snapped her mouth shut. "Nothing," he said into the receiver, "I ordered room service, and the waitress broke a glass."
He remained silent for several moments. "Fine," he grumbled. "Call me after the shoot. I lov–" But the phone went dead before he could finish the sentiment.
Pinching the bridge of his nose, the sharp edge reemerged in his voice. "Why are you here, Blair?"
Frustration turned to anger as she narrowed her eyes at him. He was the one who started this whole mess. "Waitress?" she shot. "Really?"
"Do you really expect me to explain to my fiancé that, while we are in the middle of a heated argument, my ex is sitting in my living room?"
"So instead you lie to her? I see not much has changed," she spat.
"Again," he growled, "Why are you here? You were supposed to come tomorrow."
"Change of plans," she smirked. "I have a date tomorrow night."
"A date?" he asked incredulously. He could feel his blood pressure rising with each word they spoke. "You have a date?"
"Is that so hard to believe?"
He ignored her question, the muscle in his jaw flexing under the weight of his clenched teeth. "Who do you have a date with? I thought you weren't seeing anyone."
"That's none of your concern." She pulled her purse up on her shoulder. "What were you and Caroline arguing over?"
"Always the hypocrite, aren't you, Blair? If I can't ask about your personal life, you can't ask about mine. My relationship with Caroline is none of your business."
"It's my business when I'm the center of your argument." She turned to leave, but he yanked her back by the wrist.
His eyes bore into her, but she refused to back away. "You were listening in to my private discussion?"
"Maybe you should learn to be a little quieter next time you argue in front of me," she yelled back, wrenching her arm out of his grasp.
He let out a slow exhale. Picking a fight with Blair wasn't going to solve his problems with Caroline. "You're right. I apologize."
Her face softened to a degree, but she said, "This is why we can't do this, Chuck. I thought maybe it would give us some closure, but all it's going to do is cause us more problems than it's going to fix."
"Blair -" His eyes were pleading, but he knew she was right.
"What's done is done. It hurts, and I don't think I'll ever fully get over what happened between us, but, you were right, knowing the truth won't change anything. We've got so much going for us. We need to leave the past in the past and focus on being friends. I don't want to get in the way of your relationship, and, if we start sneaking around behind her back, that's exactly what's going to happen."
He swallowed hard, nodding in reluctant acceptance. "For what it's worth, part of me wishes things had turned out differently." It might not have been the wisest thing to say, but he could at least offer her that small truth. Perhaps, they could both find a bittersweet solace in those words. In another life, it would've all worked out.
"Me, too," she smiled sadly. Pressing a kiss to her fingertips, she let them linger for a brief moment on his cheek before she walked away for the final time. "Goodbye, Chuck."
A/N: Hello, lovely readers. I hope you haven't given up on me. It's been a while, I know. I'm not sure how often I will update, but I'm so appreciative of those of you who are still reading my silly little fanfics. Much love to all of you.