Chapter 7
Harper
Chase drives me into town, and we spend the afternoon walking around and checking out the various sights.
I’m wearing the baggy sweatshirt under the puffy jacket, plus the jeans and tennies.
It feels less conspicuous than the blue dress, but I keep the wig and the eye patch for good measure.
A few people stare as we walk by, but not as many as before.
I’m starting to feel more comfortable being out and about.
Many places around town feel familiar. The little bank on the corner with its brick drive-through window. I remember Mom taking me there, and afterward we’d stop at the bakery next door. I’d get a powdered-sugar doughnut and she’d get one with chocolate frosting.
The bakery’s still there, although it’s updated, with new signage and a new name.
There’s a new café next door, but I decide to forgo my usual coffee today.
Who knows? Maybe Chase was right about it revving me up too much.
Besides, I don’t need to be on today. I just need to be here. In the present.
I get the feeling Chase might be right about a lot of things in life. Not that he’s a know-it-all. He’s just…practical. Direct and honest. He’s got this calm, steady demeanor that makes me feel grounded whenever he’s around.
I appreciate that he’s following my lead too.
Sure, he gave me his two cents about the security situation today, but he’s not trying to control me or tell me what to do.
He’s treating me with respect. But I can tell he’s on edge.
Scanning the crowds, looking for signs of danger.
Maybe because he’s seen bad things happen in his life, like whatever gave him that deep scar across his shoulder.
With Tony’s team, it sometimes feels like the security guys are putting on their own show. Throwing their weight around and trying to appear important. But Chase is nothing like that. He takes his responsibility of protecting another person seriously. He’s not in it for appearances.
Today, he’s looking out for me, and that feels like a privilege. I feel honored having him by my side, and I think he likes being with me too.
He’s quiet as we walk the scenic path along the river, and the old iron bridge comes into view as we round the bend.
“Oh my gosh.” I cover my mouth with my hand. “The bridge.”
“You remember it?”
I nod. “Mind if we walk across?”
He tips his chin in agreement, but his eyes remain serious. “Sure.”
He stays alongside me as we walk over the bridge, and the roar of the river fills my ears. When we reach the middle, I stop to watch the current rushing past, and Chase stands beside me.
So much water running under the bridge. Every second of every day it keeps flowing, just like it did when I was young. I let the cool, clean air fill my lungs. I can smell the wet stone and moss.
I feel alive here, and I don’t remember feeling this calm in a long time. Part of it is taking some time off, I’m sure. Skipping the caffeine and spending time out with all this nature around me can’t hurt either.
But it’s Chase too. His presence is calming.
I feel it.
A stitch on my sweatshirt catches on a padlock someone’s attached to the bridge.
“Oh, I love these.” I stop to turn it over in my hand. It’s a small silver lock with rainbow-colored bits of yarn wound around the shackle. “I remember when my mom first told me what these were.”
“What are they?”
I turn to him, shocked. “You don’t know?”
He shrugs. “Vandalism?”
“Stop.” I laugh, running my hand over a few more of them as we stroll further. “They’re called love locks. Couples leave them here as a symbol of their commitment to each other, and they toss the key into the water.”
“Hmm.” He tips his jaw slightly, but his expression is unchanged.
“What? You don’t think that’s sweet?” I tip my eye patch up for a moment to give him a flirty look.
He squints back at me, then he chuckles. “All right. Yeah, it’s sweet.”
“Ahh. So there is a heart in there somewhere.” I poke lightly at the center of his chest as we walk, and he rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t step back.
I give him a smile, and the corners of his mouth turn up.
I spot a horse on one of the farms in the distance. “Oh my gosh. I forgot about the horses.”
“What horses?”
I point. “On that hill, past the trees.”
He nods.
“I remember our bus would drive past there on the way to school, and I used to wonder what it might be like to ride one.”
“Mmm. You like to ride?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. I’ve never tried it.”
He balks. “You’ve never ridden a horse?”
“No.” I turn to him, surprised. “Why, have you?”
He shrugs. “No. But I never wanted to.”
I laugh, and he grins. There’s a cute little mole on his cheek that rises whenever he smiles.
“I figured—with all the success you’ve had, you could do whatever you want. Ride a horse. Fly to the moon. I don’t know.”
I chuckle. “Yeah, it probably looks that way on the outside, and some of that’s true, I suppose. I can wear the clothes I want. Buy whatever things I want to buy. But they’re just things.” I suddenly realize what I’m saying might come across as ungrateful—conceited—and I cringe.
I glance over to check his expression. He’s watching me intently, but there’s no judgment in his eyes. It makes me want to share more.
“Everything else in my life is regimented,” I say with a shrug. “Planned to the minute. There isn’t any room left to just…breathe. Be alive, you know?”
He nods. “Yeah, I know.”
The way he says the words—confident and clear—it’s like he does know. But he doesn’t.
“No. You don’t understand.” It irritates me when people say they get it, because even if they think they do, they have no idea how different my life is. “Nobody does. It’s not—I don’t live how other people live.”
“I get it.” He’s looking at me with compassion, but I’m getting increasingly frustrated, wanting someone to understand all the pressure and exhaustion, the lack of privacy and control, but knowing he can’t.
“You don’t, though!” His chin juts back, and I realize I’m raising my voice. I know I shouldn’t be taking it out on him, but it’s all bubbling up inside me, and I want to get it out.
“Yes, I love my job. Yes, I love being able to sing my songs and dance for millions of fans for a living. It’s a dream!
” I’m shaking my head. “It’s an absolute dream, and I’m so thankful for it.
I am! But also, I’m so tired!” My eyes sting, and I spin back toward the water to hide the emotion on my face.
“There’s too much pressure, and I never know who I can trust.”
His hand comes to the back of my arm. “Harper, I know.” He says it so softly that tears fill my eyes. I have to flip the eye patch up to blot them away with my fingers so my makeup won’t run.
“Hey.” He leans in to whisper in my ear. “You don’t have to be cheerful and thankful all the time. It’s OK to be tired.”
I turn to meet his gaze, and he presses his thumb to my cheek, dabbing a tear away. There’s something gentle in it that catches me off guard.
“Everybody needs a break sometimes,” he whispers, and it soothes something raw inside my heart.
I nod. “Ever since the new management came in, they’ve been running me into the ground. It’s nonstop between rehearsals and the packed schedule for this tour. I don’t have time to catch my breath.”
He’s quiet for a while, then he says, “Sounds like you might need new management.”
I laugh. “Yeah, maybe I do.” It sounds obvious when he says it, because it is too much, and I’m not happy with my life anymore. None of it feels the way it used to, when it was all about the music. My fans.
Maybe I’ve been so busy I haven’t been able to think straight.
“Hmm. Is this you using the special training you got for celebrities?” I joke, swiping my hand under my nose to make sure it’s not running. “Talking them down from tantrums and wiping their tears away?”
His jaw tenses.
“Sorry, I was just teasing.”
He nods. “I know.” His expression is all business again, and I’m not sure why things shifted.
He glances around to check for anything suspicious, then his eyes settle back on the water.
“What is the training anyway?” I say.
“Huh?”
“The special training.”
“Oh. It’s not— It’s nothing like that. It’s just—”
He seems flustered all of a sudden, and I spin to face him. “What’s wrong?”
He stares at me for a moment, then he sighs loudly. “Look, I don’t have special training,” he says matter-of-factly.
“What?” I reel back. “Your boss lied to me?”
“No. Cass would never lie. About anything.”
I shake my head, bewildered. “OK, tell me what it is then.”
“It’s not—” He flinches, dipping his chin, and now he won’t look me in the eye. Like he’s ashamed.
“Chase?”
This is the first time I’ve seen him look uncomfortable. Now I’m worried.
He clears his throat. “I spent some time in the industry, that’s all.”
“Oh. Doing security for celebrities?” That makes sense.
He squints at me for a moment. “Yeah, something like that.” He looks out over the water for a moment, then he adds, “Plus my dad’s in the business.”
“Really? Who’s your dad?”
There’s a long pause before he finally says, “John Corbett.”
I stumble back a step. “Your dad’s John Corbett?” The man is a legend. He’s like royalty in the music business. Chase does understand my world. At least a little. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why keep it a secret?”
He presses his lips together. “We’re estranged.”
“Oh.” I bring my tone down. “How long has it been since you’ve seen him?”
“Seventeen years, not that anyone’s counting.”
I nod slowly. “That’s terrible. I’m so sorry.” I can’t imagine going so long without talking to my mom. “Do you miss him?”
He scoffs. “Nope.”
“Really?”
“Really. He’s—” He pauses, eyeing me for a minute. “Off the record?”
My eyes widen at the fact that he’s sharing such deep secrets with me. “Of course.”
“He’s a fucking asshole.”
I laugh.
“No. You have no idea.”
I chuckle. “His reputation precedes him. One of the guys on my security detail used to travel with The Riot. He said the man’s an absolute nightmare.”
Chase laughs, running his palm across the back of his neck. “Yup, he’s something else.”
“Are you close with your mom, at least?”
His lips shift to one side. “I was. But she died when I was twelve.”
I gasp, covering my heart with my hand. “Oh, no. Chase…” I’m touched he’s confiding in me like this.
He nods, but his jaw tenses, and there’s a deep sadness in his eyes. “It was a long time ago.”
He turns to lean against the railing, looking out over the water, and I step in next to him.
We stay like this for a while, watching the rapids down below, and it feels good, being here with him.
Like we’re getting to know each other better.
I’m starting to wonder if we don’t have more in common than I thought.
“Hey, Chase?” I say quietly, and he glances down at me. “I’m glad you told me.”
His eyebrows dip for a moment, like there’s something else he wants to say. Something he’s holding back. But he turns away, resting his hands on the railing.
I don’t want to press him when he’s already feeling emotional about his parents. “Thanks for this. Bringing me out here.”
On an impulse, I rest my fingers gently over his much larger hand. Even though it’s cool outside, his skin feels warm to the touch, and it sends a wave of heat shimmering through my veins.
I’m worried he might move away, but instead, he tips his head down toward mine in a way that feels gentle, keeping his eyes on the water. “It’s no problem.”
“I’m glad I came back here,” I whisper.
“Yeah?”
I take a deep breath. “Yeah.”
He nods slowly, then he turns to look at me, a gentle smile on his lips. “I’m glad you came back here too.” His gaze is steady on mine, and a warmth spreads through my body.
His eyes dart to my lips, making my breath hitch.
Is he going to kiss me?
I want him to kiss me.
I really, really want him to kiss me.
But he turns away, pulling our hands apart as he pushes away from the railing, and my heart sinks. “It’s getting dark. We should head back if you still want to do this ball thing.”
I snort. “Yes. I still want to do this ball thing.” Who knows? Maybe a little dancing could earn me a kiss later.
“All right then. After you.” He gestures gallantly, and I grin.
“Let’s go together.” I boldly tuck my arm through his, but he lets me stay, and I enjoy the bulk of his muscles against my body and the closeness as we walk back along the bridge.