The phone rang, and Marissa pounced on it. "Hello?"
Chris' laughter rang through the receiver and mocked her. "Hi, Riss. What's the hurry?"
She settled on the couch. "Sometimes I wonder if I've got an addiction and you're my fix," she said lightly. "I hadn't heard from you in a while, that's all."
"Yeah, we've been going insane. There has been way too much going on."
Marissa chuckled. "You have three different projects going on, Chris! I expect you to be busy. Besides, when you don't call all the time, the times you do are that much more special."
"Are you saying you don't want me to call?" he teased.
"No! Definitely not!" she responded with a chuckle.
"Good. What are you doing in three weeks?"
She paused, then reached for her planner, flipping it open. "Let me check my brain," she murmured, and he chuckled.
"Your brain?" he asked.
"Yeah. You have your Scoop, and I have one, too, only I have to write in mine. An old boyfriend in high school called his planner his brain once, and it's stuck with me. I have no plans. In fact, it's rather depressing how empty this thing is. I have no life!" she mourned.
Chris was silent. "When do you get off work?" he asked.
Marissa's eyebrows went up, and she stifled a sigh. What had she done now? "I get off work at 3:30, but I can get off early, given about a week's notice."
"Would you mind too much if I flew you out to New York? We have stuff to do there for the weekend, but it's not too busy, and I'd like to see you again."
Marissa paused, almost panicked. What was the right thing to say? I'd love to come sounded innocent, but what if it was too obvious or something? She didn't want to have to analyze everything she said to him!
"Riss?" His voice broke into her panicked thoughts.
"I know I've told you not to call me that," she said, but without real anger.
He laughed. "Yes, but I knew it'd catch your attention. Will you come?"
"Sure."
"Great. I'll let you know as soon as I have the information."
"Chris?" she asked softly.
"Huh?"
"Thank you."
There was a stunned pause at the other end. "For what?"
"For inviting me." And from the following silence, and the quickness with which he got off the phone, she wondered if she had, once again, done something wrong.
The three weeks sped by. Marissa found herself packing frantically the night before her flight out, not knowing what to take. She tucked in her best dress and a pair of slacks, tossed in an extra pair jeans and a couple of sweaters, and called it good enough. Everything else was packed, but even though she'd checked the official website, she had no idea if anything was going on. Chris had been quiet on the subject, and she hadn't had the guts to ask him, afraid of the silence that might follow before he answered. She was afraid of what he might think of why she was asking.
Work that day was worse than usual, and she sat at the airport, waiting for her flight, trying to relax. It would do her absolutely no good at all to get there and be in a bad mood, so she struggled to keep her mind free of all frustrating thoughts. That turned out to be impossible, as her mind strayed more than once to Chris, and the reason she was waiting for the plane in the first place. The best thing she could think of was to remember that she had put her notice in at work not that long ago, and by the middle of next week, she was done there, and by the end of the week, she'd be on her way back to Colorado. Maybe, considering what her mother had said, she could find a place to work there. It seemed there were a zillion jobs just waiting to be filled in Denver.
As soon as she was settled in her seat, her bag in the overhead bin, the pressure seemed to ease. It wasn't as if they'd come demand that she go back to work, but it was nice that she'd just managed not to mess it up so far. The stewardess asked if she wanted something to drink - she had protested the first class tickets when she'd gotten them - and she got some water, then lay back in her seat and closed her eyes.
The flight was over before she knew it. It was dark outside her window, and she wondered blankly, as she pulled her bag down to deplane, who was going to meet her. She hoped that if it wasn't Chris, it would at least be Matt, or someone else she knew relatively well. She followed the woman in front of her off the plane, and paused in the gate, glancing around to see if there was someone she knew. Mostly, she checked for a body guard. If Chris were here, so would be one of the massive men who guarded him.
"You really did come," Matt said to her left, and she turned, smiling.
"Hey. I'm glad to see you," she said with relief.
"Luggage?" he asked.
"This is it." She indicated the rolling bag next to her. "It's only a weekend, after all."
Matt shook his head, wonderingly. "If he doesn't keep you, I'll take you," he said, picked up her bag, and led the way from the airport.
"Promise?" she asked, but not until he was in the compartment of the rotating door in front of her.
Chris met them at the elevator, grabbing her in a hug before she could move more than one step into the hallway. "Kirkpatrick, let me off, or I'll take her back," Matt growled, and Chris stepped back, taking Marissa with him. She swore she saw the body guard smile as he moved past them.
It took Justin's applause to make Chris let her go. "Sheesh. You'd better get dressed, Chris," the blonde said with a grin.
Chris fixed him with a glare as he loosened his grip on Marissa. "I am dressed."
"Really?" Justin's grin widened, if that were possible. "All I see you wearing is Marissa."
Chris feinted at him and Justin fled. "Dead. I'm gonna kill him," Chris murmured as Marissa buried her flaming face in his shoulder. "Come on. Let's get you settled before I have to go."
"Where are you going?" she asked as he walked her down the hall, his arm around her waist.
"Performance on Letterman." He shrugged. "We probably won't get to talk to him."
"Singing the latest?"
He let her go so she could open her door, grabbing her suitcase and following her in. "Yeah. Which means I do a thirty minute warm up for less than thirty seconds singing. I timed it once." He sat down on the bed. "The connecting door goes to Lance's room again. Is that okay?"
Marissa chuckled. "It's fine with me. Is it okay with him?"
Chris grinned at her. "I actually didn't ask."
Marissa sat next to him and threw an arm around his shoulders. "So, do you know when you'll be back?"
"Not... specifically. Probably around midnight. Care to go to dinner afterwards?"
"Sure," she smiled. "If I fall asleep, don't hesitate to wake me up." She grimaced slightly. "Nicely, please."
Chris laughed. "Nicely then," he teased gently, and kissed her.
A cleared throat broke them up, and they jumped apart. To Marissa's mortification, she flushed red at the sight of Lance's grin. "My face is malfunctioning today," she said ruefully.
Chris chuckled and kissed her cheek. "I have to go. I'll see you tonight."
"This is actually why I came," Lance said, handing her pass to her. "But you're right, we'd better go."
"Thanks. Have fun!" she called to Chris, who was nearly out of the room.
Chris turned and rolled his eyes. "Oh, I will."
And she was a lone again. With a sigh tempered by a smile, she pulled her dress and slacks from her suitcase and hung them up. After a moment of standing blankly in the middle of the room, she kicked off her shoes, grabbed a book from her carry on, and started to read.
When Chris eased the door open, he paused in the doorway, painfully reminded of his actions a few months ago - almost a year ago, he thought, shocked - at Joey's house in Orlando. Marissa was asleep, curled on the bed, a book by her hand. Her wavy hair was tangled, strands laying across her face.
"Are you going in?" Lance asked quietly, and Chris jumped, startled.
"I don't know if I want to wake her up." She can't hurt me if she's asleep, he thought irrationally, and then wondered where the thought had come from.
"You don't have to," Lance said practically, and vanished into the bathroom.
A few seconds later, Chris stepped into the room and crept over to the bed. He gently brushed the hair from her face, then shook her shoulder. "Riss, wake up," he said gently.
She stretched and yawned as she opened her eyes, then she laughed. "I'm going to have to give up on that book. It keeps putting me to sleep." She sat up and smiled wider. "How was your performance?"
He shrugged. "Okay."
"I thought it was beautiful." She found her place in her book, and moved the book mark to keep it. "Still up for dinner?"
He lifted an eyebrow. "Starving. You?"
"Definitely." She scooted off the bed and got her shoes on.
"Do you mind if Matt tags along?"
She couldn't define his tone. "Do I have a choice?" She kept it light, teasing.
"Not really."
"It's fine," she said, and stood, holding her hand out. "If you're starving, let's go."
He hesitated only a second before taking her hand and leading her out of the room.
They found a smallish diner with relatively few people, a rarity in New York City on a Friday night. They sat down in a corner booth, away from the window, and Matt sat a couple of booths away, studiously not paying attention to them.
"How's work?" he asked, once they'd ordered.
Marissa groaned. "I wish you had traded places with me. I've been looking for a new job with absolutely no luck at all. It's just not fair." She crinkled her face up, then chuckled. "It's actually going okay. How's your work going?"
His shoulders seemed to sag. "Slowly. I'm frustrated. Danielle is frustrated, and that's much harder to do." He gave her a slight grin. "Unless I'm authoring that frustration."
Marissa grinned back. "She's with FumanSkeeto?" She casually unwrapped the top of her straw.
"She's the president."
"So, what's wrong?"
He played idly with his straw. "We keep getting emails saying people can't find our clothes."
"Oh. That sucks," she said, wishing she knew what to say at all. "What are you gonna do?"
He sighed. "I don't know. I thought seriously about throwing a temper tantrum..."
Marissa burst into laughter. "Would it help?"
He eyed her warily. "Probably not."
"Would you feel better?"
He paused a little longer. "I think so."
She shrugged. "So do it. Go home, find a room you can't hurt too badly, and throw things. Break stuff."
After a startled pause, Chris grinned. "It's all about the he said she said bull... hey!"
She'd timed it perfectly. While he was singing, she slid the paper cover of the straw half way down, raised the straw to her lips, and blew sharply. The cover pegged him in the nose. Marissa grinned, dunked the straw in her drink, and sipped. "Feel better?" she asked.
He pouted, and she grinned wider. "You're sure cute when you do that."
His brown eyes sparkled as his mouth curled quickly and naturally into a smile. "Really? I'm cute?"
"Yes. That part was a bonus."
"What?" he demanded in mock surprise. "You didn't like me for my looks?"
"Like I said, that was a bonus." She smiled, trying to hide how nervous this conversation made her. It was the wrong topic; the ice was getting thin.
"Oh?" He paused as the waitress set their orders down, asked brusquely if there was anything else, and left again. "What was it, then?"
Marissa was grateful for the pause. It gave her time to think. "You laughed."
He looked perplexed. "I laughed?"
"Yeah. At Thanksgiving, the first time you called. I made a stupid comment about Justin, Lance and JC, and you laughed." It sounded lame, incredibly lame. She didn't know whether she hoped he believed it or not.
"Really?"
Her heart dove for her shoes, but she forced a laugh. "Really. What did you expect me to say, it was your money or your fame?"
His eyes flinched away. "No."
Liar. She picked up her fork and took a bite of her Caesar salad. She supposed it was good, but right now she could taste nothing. "Well, I went to the Vancouver mall and didn't have a problem finding the FumanSkeeto stuff," she said casually. "I take you'd checked into whether they were out of stock?"
"The stores mentioned haven't reordered." There was a clink as his fork hit his plate.
Marissa didn't know what to say, or even where to start, so she sipped her drink, blinking in surprise when there was nothing to sip. "Is there anything I can do?" she asked after a long moment of silence.
He reached across the table and took her hand. "Thanks, but no, I don't think so."
She gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. "If there is anything, you let me know?"
He smiled wanly. "I will. Thanks."
As soon as Chris let her hand go, she went back to eating. "You said once that you write songs," she said after a minute, almost desperate to fill the silence.
"Yeah."
Only she had no idea where that was going with that. "Where do you get your ideas?"
Chris' eyes were startled when she met them. "I- I don't know. I've never thought about it."
"Oh."
"Why?"
She flushed. "I don't know. I've never written a song before. Well, okay, I tried once a million years ago..."
"You aren't that old," he protested.
"...and it was awful. I never got more than one line written." She paused. "And you don't know how old I am! I might be 400 years old and a vampire."
"I've seen you in daylight."
"There may be clans immune to daylight," she said in mock defense.
"Clans?"
She chuckled. "Vampire: the Masquerade. It's a role playing game."
Chris laughed. "Is there anything you haven't done?"
"Yes." She smiled. "Most of the things you've done, I haven't. Like find some of the best friends I could ask for. Start my own group. Start a clothing line. Create a huge traffic jam on Times Square just once, never mind more than once. Be a spokesman for a nationwide charity. Write a song. Sing on HBO. Not to mention going on a roller coaster with Rosie O'Donnell." She shrugged, grinning at him. "But that's okay. My only wish is a job where people are appreciative of what I do and don't try to intimidate me."
"Are you trying to stay in Portland?"
She couldn't really identify the tone of his voice, and tilted her head in curiosity. "At this point, I'd move anywhere." She paused, and her lips twisted wryly. "I put in my notice, actually. Wednesday is my last day."
"Without a job?" he asked, incredulous.
Marissa shrugged. "So far, all the moving I've done has been with no job prospects."
"Moving?" His eyes widened, almost as if he were even more startled.
She blinked. "Oh. Yeah. I'm moving back home to see if I'll have any better luck there."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because I just decided, in the time between our last conversation and when I got here. And I didn't have much time before you took off again," she added with a grin.
"That's true," he said ruefully. "Have you considered anywhere else?"
There was that tone again. Her head tilted as she tried to identify it. "Oh, sure! At this point, anywhere I can get a job. Unfortunately, my skills are very common, so I'm not much in demand."
"And I'm complaining about some of my clothes not being in stores," Chris said softly. "I must sound... I don't know, greedy."
Marissa chuckled. "Nope." She took her last bite of salad. "That's just as important to you as anything I've talked about is to me. Besides, you deserve to have a venture of yours go well. After that thing that's what, a year and a half ago? I think you deserve some beginner's luck."
"Thanks." His eyes dropped to his now empty plate. Marissa leaned back, sighing softly in some relief that there had been no uncomfortable silences. "Dessert?" he asked with a grin.
"No, thanks. Dinner mint? Yes. The salad was high in garlic. Wonderful to taste, but it will probably mean you won't want to kiss me."
He laughed as he got up and took her hand to pull her to her feet. "We'll see about that."
Marissa grabbed them both a mint as he paid, then Matt took up his place behind them as they walked out to the car. "You got me one," Chris said with mock offence.
"Yes. To guard you a little," she grinned, and he chuckled again.
Chris pulled her to a stop when she would have kept walking past his room to hers. "You could stay with me," he said softly.
Marissa laughed just as softly, covering the nervous pounding of her heart. "Oh, no. You guys are paying good money for this. I'd better use that room."
She figured - hoped - that the reason he didn't turn into the kiss she placed on his cheek was due to surprise, and not anger, as she walked briskly to her room and let herself in. She smiled and waved at him before she vanished completely, and sighed in relief when he grinned and waved back. She sank down on the bed. "I must have been insane to come here."
Pounding in stereo woke her, and she crawled wearily out of the bed. She opened the door connecting her room to Lance's first, and smiled at Justin, who grinned widely at her.
"Ha. I won," he said. "Cute pj's."
Marissa smiled sleepily, confused. The grey three piece outfit of pants, tank and button up shirt was comfortable in the cold room. Justin just grinned, slipped past her, and opened the door to the main hall.
"You're... Justin," Chris said flatly.
Justin grinned wider. "I told you she liked me better."
Marissa blinked at him, stupid with sleep, and tried to clear her mind. "Justin," she said, taking a deep breath, "I realize that you are the dream of thousands of girls, most of them half my age. You're supposed to be cute, and you have pretty blue eyes. But you're way too skinny." She pinched his forearm, carefully ignoring the muscles under her fingers. "Besides, if Joey was too young, I'm way out of your league."
Chris laughed and she turned to look at him. "I hope that made sense. Morning."
Still laughing, he pulled her into a hug. "Good morning.
Marissa nestled into him, warmed by his arms around her. "I missed your performance, didn't I."
"Slept right though it."
She was very glad to hear the fondness in his voice, and she nestled closer. "Sorry. But I'm sure Anika or Clara taped it."
He chuckled, and it rumbled through his chest. "Without a doubt," he agreed. "Are you hungry?"
"Hm..." She took stock, then nodded against his chest. "I could definitely eat."
"We'll leave you alone to get dressed, then." He eased away from her, and she shivered slightly. "Hurry. We don't have much time." He kissed her forehead, then let her go and left, pushing Justin out the door ahead of him.
As soon as the door closed, Marissa grabbed her jeans from the chair where she'd laid them, found a sweater from her suitcase, and threw them on. She brushed her hair quickly, wincing at the knots her brush found, then twisted it up, fastening it with a green claw.
She slipped into Lance's room, grinning shyly as she sat next to Chris.
"Wow," Joey said with a grin. "That was fast."
She chuckled. "Yeah, well... he said hurry."
Chris stiffened next to her. "I didn't mean that fast," he protested.
"Not to gross the rest of you out," Marissa said quickly, making eye contact with the rest of the group before grinning at Chris, "but frankly, the less time I spend on myself, the more time I get to spend with you. If you don't mind me looking less than glamorous."
"Less than glamorous?" Justin repeated, startled.
"Yes," she said with a grin. "Note the jeans, the lack of make up...."
"Which means no weird tasting lipstick," Chris interrupted, and Marissa stared at him, feeling her face again turn bright red as the others laughed at her. Chris' eyes sparkled mischievously.
"Yeah, well, I'm not all that fond of the taste of lipstick either," she stammered, which sent all five into further gales of laughter. It took a moment before she chuckled as well. Chris pulled her close, giving her a tight squeeze.
"Let's go, then," JC said as the laughter faded, and everyone got up.
Lunch was quick. Marissa felt rather like she was tagging along, but she had rather figured on that. She slipped away once long enough to find a book, Matt watching her carefully, and spent the afternoon curled up in the very comfortable limo, reading.
Dinner was a more private and not so rushed affair. Marissa relaxed finally, smiling ruefully as Joey and Lance, who were sitting across from her.
"Are you okay?" Chris asked softly.
Marissa chuckled. "Oh, yeah, I'm fine. I can't imagine how tired you guys are."
Chris grinned. "Tired? Hardly. The guys are going out. Want to go?"
"Where?"
"A club." He shrugged. "It's an old haunt of Joey's."
"Do you want to go?" she asked, almost afraid of giving the wrong answer.
He looked at her, measuring, and she looked away to focus on getting the lettuce and a crouton on her fork. She didn't look at him until she'd taken the bite, one eyebrow raised in query. It hid her pounding heart and the fear she felt, half afraid of what he'd say.
He shrugged again. "It's a good place," he said neutrally.
Marissa swallowed, half wishing she hadn't taken the bite, and chuckled. "I'm not much of a judge as far as clubs go, so I'll take you're word for it. If you want to go, it sounds like fun."
"We'll go then," Chris said, and turned back to his meal.
"Yes!" Justin said with enthusiasm, and grinned widely at her. "We've been trying to talk him into it all day."
"It's true," Joey agreed at Marissa's incredulous look.
"Next time, we ought to just talk to Marissa first," JC added.
"Oh, no," Marissa said quickly, but apparently not quick enough, because Chris stiffened beside her. "He's quite able to make his own decisions."
She glanced at Lance as her eyes roved around the table. His eyes flickered between her and Chris, who was still sitting stiffly at her side, glaring at his friends. Lance's eyes hardened slightly, then his eyes met hers, and he smiled at her. She smiled back, but it was harder than she thought it should have been.
She knew she had an ally in him, and so once they were back in their rooms, she knocked on their connecting doors. He was smiling when she opened it. "What do I wear?" she asked in an urgent whisper.
"It doesn't really matter," he told her gently, then his smile faltered. "Are you okay?"
"Fine!" She winced inwardly; that had been too quick. "I just... he didn't tell me what to pack. I have a nice pair of slacks and a dress, or jeans."
"It's a casual club," he told her. "Jeans will be fine."
"Wonderful," she breathed in some relief. "Thanks." She closed the door and changed quickly into her other jeans and a dark blue, fake velvet shirt. She pinned her hair up with a couple of dragon tipped bobby pins and was brushing her teeth when there was a knock on her door. She quickly wiped her mouth and went to open it, smiling shyly at Chris. "Hi. Can you give me a minute?"
"Sure."
She invited him in and vanished into the bathroom to quickly finish up, and she emerged seconds later. "You look nice," she said, sinking down next to him.
He smiled at her. "You look fantastic. Have I told you yet how glad I am that you came?"
Her cheeks flushed slightly. "Thanks. Have I told you yet how glad I am that you invited me?"
He smiled, then leaned down and kissed her. "Good. I'm glad you're glad."
Marissa chuckled. "I'm also glad I'm not in the way, then."
"Never."
"You haven't asked Tim that yet."
Chris mock scowled at her. "I'm not going to. Ready to go?"
"Ready as I'll ever be," she said, and followed him out the door.
Sunday was tamer. Marissa was up by eight, cursing her habits, and was casually informed by Matt half an hour later that no one else had stirred.
"I'm not surprised," she said with a smile. "I'm going down to breakfast. I honestly don't expect to see anyone before noon."
"You probably won't," he agreed.
She'd only been in the private dining room long enough to toast her bagel when JC sank down in the seat across from her. "Morning," he mumbled.
"What are you doing up?" she asked in some surprise.
He gave her a pathetic look. "I couldn't sleep any longer."
Marissa had to struggle to hide her laughter. "I'm sorry to hear that," she managed, if barely.
He glared at her. "Don't even start," he warned her.
She gave him an innocent look. "Start what? JC, there's milk and a microwave. Heat some up. Maybe that will help."
JC gave her an incredulous look, then shrugged and went. With a soft smile, Marissa went back to her breakfast.
It gave her a chance to think, and she wasn't sure that was a good idea, after all. Moving, she decided, wouldn't affect their relationship. The only move that would, would be the one she'd probably never take to Orlando. The only difference this might make is that he'd have to adjust one less hour for change in time zones. The question, however, was whether she wanted to end it. That would definitely make a difference. She sighed and got herself another hot chocolate. She couldn't take the stress of watching her words every time she talked to him, every time she saw him. On the other hand, she thought as she sat down again, she didn't know if she could take the heartache of losing him. That caused another sigh, and she sipped listlessly at her chocolate.
When she finished, she went back up to her room and curled up with her book. She had about four pages left when there was a knock on her door. Scrambling off her bed, she raked a hand through her hair before opening the door. "Good morning!" she greeted a sleepy looking Chris.
"Hi," he said sheepishly. "Guess what."
Marissa smiled wryly. "You have somewhere to be?"
He sighed. "Tim just told us." He was too tired to even get angry. "Did you want to come?"
She hesitated, then shook her head. "No. I'll stay here."
The relief flashed across his face so quickly she wasn't sure she'd seen it before he leaned down and kissed her gently. "It's a photo shoot, and I think Tim would have had fits if you'd wanted to come. You sure you don't want to give him fits?"
Marissa laughed. "No, I think I'll stay here, but thanks."
"I'll come get you for lunch, okay?"
"That would be lovely," she grinned, and laughed as he made a face at her choice of words.
"Randy's staying here, so make sure you have your pass if you go out."
She nodded. "I'll see you in a while."
He paused, then sighed. "I'm sorry."
Marissa kissed him. "It's okay. Go before you give Tim a hernia."
It made him laugh, and he ruffled her hair as he left. She watched him go until he vanished out of sight. Then, slowly, she returned to her book, but without much focus.
Go on to Next Chapter | Chance