Chapter 28
THE DREAM
Chris sat at a large, round table in a sleek, modern conference room with floor-to-ceiling windows showcasing the city skyline behind him.
Freshly shaved, hair short, and a lighter shade of blonde, he leaned back in his chair, sipping his coffee while trying not to let his excitement show too much.
Across from him sat Marvin, a seasoned director in his fifties with salt-and-pepper hair, and John, a producer of the same age who desperately tried to look younger with jet-black dyed hair and expensive but slightly too trendy clothes.
Vanessa was in a corner, typing something into her phone, uninterested in whatever discussion was happening. Chris, however, was fully engaged, watching as Marvin and John read through the script of Snowdrift.
“The girl knows how to write. I’ll give her that,” John muttered, though his face showed nothing but impatience.
“Yeah. I really connected with the character. It’s incredibly well written.” Chris loved this project. And for once, he didn’t even mind putting up with John’s bullshit.
“Great writer, but needs a new watch,” John grumbled, shooting a pointed glance at his own. Chris exchanged a look with Marvin, silently asking, “What the hell is this guy’s deal?” Marvin shrugged.
It seemed no one else would join them.
Then, the door swung open, and Jules walked in with her manager.
Chris sat up a little straighter. She was stunning.
Her long red hair was pulled into a loose braid that brushed against her back, the breeze from the hallway catching the strands that had come undone.
She wore a green dress that was simple and flowing but hugged her in all the right ways, paired with a tailored jacket.
She was whispering something to the short woman beside her, too focused on their conversation to look at the room.
Chris wasn’t sure if he wanted to be professional or ask her out on the spot.
Not that it mattered because she hadn’t even looked at him yet.
Her manager spoke first. “Gentlemen, I apologize for the delay. We’ve actually been here since before ten, but we were waiting for confirmation on something.” Both Jules and her manager looked uneasy, as if they were expecting… something. But whatever it was, they weren’t saying.
Chris barely had time to process the weird tension before John’s phone rang.
“What?” John snapped as he picked up, clearly irritated.
Whoever was on the other end talked—a lot.
John’s face went from annoyed to completely drained of color in about two seconds.
“I—” He tried to interrupt, but the person on the other end wasn’t finished.
His grip on the phone tightened, his jaw clenched, but whatever was being said clearly wasn’t something he could argue with.
“I understand,” he finally said through gritted teeth. “Yes, yes. Okay.”
The room was dead silent as he hung up. Jules’ manager was smiling, but Jules herself looked tense. John took a deep breath before turning to Chris and Marvin.
“Looks like the company’s sending a new producer to handle this project. We’re done here.”
Chris frowned.
“Why?” he asked. But Marvin was already standing, ready to leave without a second thought. “I mean, I like the project. I’m not—” Chris glanced at Vanessa, who was still glued to her phone as none of this concerned her.
John let out a sharp laugh. “You know what, kid? You wanna work with the cunt? Be my guest.” He gestured aggressively toward Jules and her manager, waving his hands in the air like a child throwing a tantrum. Jules flinched at his movement.
Marvin didn’t stick around—he was already halfway to the door, clearly wanting no part in whatever was about to go down.
Chris didn’t move. Neither did Vanessa, still scrolling like she was above all of this.
John turned to leave, but at the last second, he grabbed Jules by the waist and shoved her against the wall.
“Good luck making it in this business without spreading your legs, beautiful. You’re not that good a writer.”
The whole room exploded into motion. Jules’ manager lunged, trying to pull John away, but he barely budged.
Marvin picked up the pace toward the door, practically speed-walking like he wanted to be anywhere but here.
And Chris moved fast. The chair he’d been sitting in clattered to the floor as he reached them in seconds.
“Hey, hey, hey,” he said.
“Let. Her. Go,” Jules’ manager demanded.
Jules, however, said nothing. She stared John down, unflinching, daring him to make another move. Like she had heard this bullshit before and was so far past caring. John let out a dry laugh and leaned back slightly, loosening his grip but still blocking her path.
“What?” He looked Chris up and down. “You wanna fuck her? That’s why you wanna stay?” He laughed again, louder this time. Chris saw John’s hand twitch, like he might grab Jules again.
That was all it took.
Chris’ fist crashed into his face before he even thought about what he was doing.
John dropped to the ground.
Chris winced, shaking out his hand. “Fuck.” His wrist throbbed. He was definitely going to feel that later. The room went silent again, everyone still processing what the hell had happened.
Except Jules.
She was staring at Chris now. Their eyes locked, something unspoken crackling between them.
“Are you okay?” Chris finally asked, flexing his fingers to distract himself from her insanely intense gaze.
Jules didn’t answer right away. “Yeah…”
He exhaled. “I just… I’ve been wanting to do that for a while. Thanks for the excuse.” He gave her a smirk, still catching his breath. Jules kept studying him, her lips pressing together like she was trying to hold something back.
Then, finally, the faintest smile appeared in the corners of her mouth.
“You are quite welcome.”
The scenery slowly shifted.
Jules didn’t even have time to brace herself before another daydream pulled her under. Suddenly, she was back on set with Chris, tucked behind one of the props, hidden from prying eyes.
“So, my place tonight?” Chris whispered close to her ear, his lips leaving soft kisses along her skin.
Jules kept glancing around, nervous about getting caught.
“I have rewrites to work on. I can’t.”
He pretended not to hear, his mouth finding the freckles on her collarbone. He kissed them one at a time, teasing.
“I love these freckles. Did you know that?”
“Chris…” she warned, though the strength behind it was pitiful. She wasn’t stopping him. She didn’t want to.
He leaned back to meet her eyes. “Do you have to go home first, or are we going straight from here?”
She sighed, already knowing she’d lost this battle.
“I need to get some writing done…”
“After,” he whispered, brushing his lips over hers.
“After,” she whispered back, surrendering. And then they kissed, deep and unhurried, lost in each other.
Footsteps approached. They pulled apart instantly, adjusting their clothes in a frantic, silent scramble. Chris pressed a few quick kisses to her neck as Jules clamped a hand over her mouth, trying to stifle her giggles.
“Where are they?” they heard a crew member nearby.
“Probably making out somewhere. I don’t care… I’m getting paid either way,” another voice replied. Chris and Jules locked eyes, barely containing their laughter before he pulled her back in, his lips finding hers once more.
The scene shifted again, like a rollercoaster with no brakes, her mind plunging into a new reality.
She was in a dimly lit room, cradling a tiny baby in her arms, gently caressing her impossibly small fingers while she breastfed.
The chair she sat in was oversized and plush, wrapping around her like a cocoon, but all of her focus was on the little one nestled against her.
So tiny, so sweet. She traced each delicate finger, counting them in a soft whisper.
The door cracked open. Chris stepped in, tiptoeing across the room and trying not to make a sound.
“How is she?” he kneeled beside them.
Jules glanced up, a soft smile tugging at her lips.
“She’s fine. It’s just a fever. Babies have fevers, remember?”
Chris exhaled, but his eyes stayed locked on their daughter.
“She’s so tiny. I forgot how tiny they are.”
Jules let out a quiet laugh.
“Where’s Liam?” she whispered.
“I got him down for the night,” Chris said, finally tearing his gaze away to meet hers.
“He didn’t even ask for a goodnight kiss from Mom?” Jules pouted dramatically.
Chris grinned. “I promised him ice cream tomorrow. He was very understanding.” She huffed, still pretending to be wounded. He tilted his head, having his fun. “I, however,” he said, inching closer, “would very much like a goodnight kiss from Mom. Does that count?”
Jules smiled, her pout vanishing. “I guess that’ll have to do for tonight…”
Chris leaned in carefully, pressing a slow, tender kiss to her lips.
The scene shifted again.
Suddenly, they were on a red carpet, the golden Hollywood couple stepping out of a sleek black car, the flash of cameras exploding in every direction. Chris climbed out first, effortlessly smoothing his suit before reaching back to take Jules’ hand, helping her out like she was royalty.
She took the lead, gliding forward with effortless grace, him following behind, his hand resting possessively at her waist. He didn’t just want to walk beside her; he wanted to protect her and scan the crowd like a bodyguard.
When they reached the designated photo line, they stopped.
Chris pulled her in closer, his hands never leaving her waist. Jules turned to him, adjusting the knot of his tie.
“I love this dress,” he murmured low enough that only she could hear.
“You do?” she asked absently, smiling and waving at the fans screaming their names.
“Easy access for later,” he whispered, his lips brushing against her ear. Jules didn’t react at first, she kept smiling like a seasoned pro—but then, the tiniest, wickedest smirk curled at the edge of her lips.
A crew member stepped up. “Mr. and Mrs. Jones, you’re next.”
Jules gave her dress one last smoothing before turning to Chris. Her gaze locked onto his, confirming every unspoken promise about what would happen later. He grinned, leaning in for a kiss— But she playfully stepped back.
“You’re going to ruin my—”
“Makeup. I know, I know,” he finished with a smirk, shaking his head.