The Chase: Chapter 31

Due to a scheduling conflict with the Arbor House, our venue in Hastings, tomorrow’s junior fashion show will now be held at 7 p.m., rather than 9 p.m. We apologize to ticketholders for any inconvenience this may cause.

“Can. You. Frigging. Believe. This.”

Rage twists Summer’s beautiful features into something dark and primal. She looks as if she’s prepared to drive to Erik Laurie’s home and strangle him with her bare hands.

I don’t blame her.

“A scheduling conflict?” she screeches. “The day before the event? He did this on purpose. He’s trying to fuck me, literally and figuratively”

I don’t laugh, because I’m furious on her behalf. When she’d emailed Laurie reminding him that half her models won’t be available until this earlier show is well underway, she’d gotten a cold response stating that she’d simply have to redo the independent study next year.

Which is a slap in the face after she’d worked her ass off all semester.

“Are you sure he knew that Rex and the guys wouldn’t be available until eight?”

“He knew,” she says tightly. “I mentioned it several times during our check-ins. He wanted me to open the show, and I told him I’d prefer a later slot to give the football guys time to regroup after their retreat. Plus, it’s a lot of pressure to go first.”

“Can you go over his head?” I ask.

“To who? My academic advisor? Richmond can’t stand me. And he’s in love with Laurie.”

“Maybe he’ll see reason. It’s not like you didn’t do any of the work. You still have six models.”

“I told all this to Laurie,” she reminds me. She tosses me her phone.

I read over their email exchange again. After his rude reply, Summer pleaded her case, saying she has six models ready to walk in the show, and asking if she could simply not show the men’s line. Laurie tells her that either all twelve models need to be there, or none of them. He once again reiterates that she will need to repeat the independent study.

Spiteful bastard.

“What am I going to do?” Her expression is dismayed, but she’s not crying, which tells me she hasn’t admitted defeat yet.

“There’s gotta be a solution. You talked to Rex—there’s no way they can make it back early?”

“Nope. Coach Deluca has them on lockdown. Apparently this hippie-dippie retreat is in the middle of the woods, miles from civilization. The bus doesn’t collect them until five. They’ll get back a couple hours after that.”

I think it over. “Okay. So we’ve got six dude bathing suits.”

“Eight. Rex and Lockett were going to walk twice.”

“But you only need six bodies.”

“Yes, but…” She shakes her head in frustration. “The suits are tailored for these bodies. That’s why we had fittings.”

“But,” I counter, “we have their measurements, and I’m sure we could find guys who generally fit those measurements.”

“Where are you going with this?”

Yeah, where are you going with this? a little voice squawks.

I exhale slowly. “We’ll do it.”

Her brows soar. “We?”

“Well, they,” I amend. “I’m going to recruit my teammates.” I’m already swiping my phone off my desk. “Hollis will definitely be on board, you know what a showoff he is. Hunter—” I stop. No, Hunter’s out. He’s barely spoken a word to us in weeks. “Nate, I can see saying yes.” I scroll through my messages list. “We need someone a bit slimmer to replace Lockett.”

“Jesse!” Summer suggests.

“If Katie lets him.” I bypass Jesse’s name and search for his girlfriend’s. “Know what? I’ll just text Katie directly. She wears the pants in that relationship.”

“True.” She purses her lips. “But who’s going to fill in for Rex? Please don’t get mad at me, but…he’s got a huge package.”

I close my eyes briefly. “Seriously? No guy wants to hear his girlfriend say that, Summer.”

“I told you not to get mad,” she protests. “Anyway, don’t worry. He’s not much bigger than you. You’re almost the same—” Her eyes light up like it’s Christmas morning.

“No way,” I growl, reading her mind. “I’m recruiting for you, not volunteering as tribute.” The thought of sashaying down a runway while a crowd of people stare at me makes me want to vomit.

“Fine. Then you’ll need to poll your teammates about their penis sizes. Try to find me a big one.”

I fight hard to contain my laughter. God. This girl.

“I’ll see what I can do,” I promise.

The good thing about not having a game the following night is that, in theory, most of my teammates should be available.

The bad thing about not having a game tonight is that nearly all of them already have plans. Half the guys went to a strip club in Boston. A few others don’t pick up their phones. A couple of them consult their girlfriends, who say no fucking way.

Katie, luckily, is not one of them. She loosens the reins and gives Jesse permission to do it. Hollis, as always, is more than happy to help. It took some arm-twisting to get Nate and Matt on board, until Summer promised that the after-party would be teeming with hot sorority girls. The French-Canadian on our team, Pierre, is a huge, hairy fellow who’s about the same size as the huge, hairy tight end, Bibby.

In twenty-four hours, I’ve scraped together five bodies.

I’ve yet to find a replacement for Rex, he of the big package.

In my desk chair, I glance down at my own crotch. I never thought I’d see the day where I’d be cursing the generous size of my cock. But I’m running out of both options and time. Summer left for the venue an hour ago to help with setup. She also signed up for cleanup, though apparently she agreed to this before Erik Laurie tried to stick his tongue in her mouth.

She emailed Laurie this morning telling him she’s found replacements for her male models.

I desperately don’t want to let her down, but I’m not sure who else to call. My gamer friends aren’t exactly model material. Morris, Ray, Kenji…they’re all short and scrawny, not to mention complete introverts.

I’m scanning my brain for other candidates when my phone rings. Private caller. I waste no time answering, because I’d told my friends that if they know anyone who’d be interested, to please pass my number along.

But when I answer the call, I’m hit with a sense of déjà vu.

“Please hold for Kamal Jain.”

Seriously? Why is he calling me? I haven’t heard from him (nor wanted to) since our showdown at the Heyward Plaza last week.

“Colin!” he barks in my ear. “I hope I caught you at a good time! Would’ve called during business hours, but I was in meetings until six.”

His rapid manner of speaking irritates me tonight. “What do you need, Mr. Jain?” I ask, unable to stop from being curt.

“We’ve been through this! Please call me KJ or—”

“No,” I interrupt. “I’m not going through this song and dance again. Tell me what you want, otherwise I’m hanging up.”

Silence crashes over the line.

I can’t believe I just snapped at a billionaire.

I don’t think he can believe it either. But when he speaks again, his tone is completely stripped of its usual confidence. “Colin. I’m sorry about the way I behaved at the fundraiser.” He clears his throat. “I insulted your girl, and I was condescending to you. I regret my behavior.”

I almost fall out of my chair. He’s apologizing? Now that, I didn’t expect.

“Sorry if I sound a bit rusty—I haven’t issued an apology in…ever, maybe? People apologize to me, not the other way around. And to think I’m groveling to a jock! Who would’ve—”

“Really? We’re back to the jock bullshit?” I sigh.

There’s a pause. “Again, my apologies. I may be a bit biased when it comes to jocks.”

“No shit.”

“I didn’t have the best experience with jocks in high school,” he admits. “Though I’m sure you already suspected that. With that said, I truly am sorry, kid. I was an ass. And truth be told, you impressed me that night. The other candidates nodded and agreed with every word I said. They sucked up to me and raved about how amazing I am—don’t get me wrong, I am amazing. But it gets old, having people follow you around, trying to suck your dick. You stood up to me, Colin. And more than that, you’re immensely talented.”

I’m glad he’s not here to see my jaw drop.

“So.” His tone grows sheepish. “If you’re still interested in the position at Orcus Games, it’s yours.”

My jaw is on the floor now. Yeah, I absolutely didn’t expect this. And I have to admit, I’m impressed that he was man enough to call me and apologize.

But at the same time, I can’t forget the way he treated Summer with such blatant disrespect. I’m not sure if one apology makes up for that.

“I told you, I’m not interested in working for someone like you,” I say brusquely.

“And I’m urging you to reconsider. I need someone like you on my team, kid. Someone who challenges me, stands up to me. Someone to remind me that before I was an arrogant prick, I was a nerdy kid who loved video games.”

I hesitate for a moment. “If you want me to reconsider, then you need to give me time to think about it,” I finally say.

“Understandable. Take a few days. Hell, a week, two weeks. But I require a firm answer by the end of the month.”

“Fine. I’ll get back to you. Anything else?” I’m being rude again, but the fashion show starts soon. And Summer is more important to me than this, as he aptly described himself, arrogant prick.

“Just think it over,” he cajoles.

“I said I would.” And I meant it. I’ll take the time to decide if working for Kamal is worth it for me, but if he expects me to jump through hoops for him again, he’ll be sorely disappointed. There’s only one person whose hoops I’ll happily jump through, and she’s not even asking me to.

“I’ll be in touch, Mr. Jain.” And then I sign off with a series of words that never in a million years would I have imagined myself saying. “I’ve gotta go walk the runway at my girlfriend’s fashion show now.”