Duchess (4 page)

“Kate? Oh, well, I’ll let that be a surprise.” Amber smiled as she walked away.

“I thought we were taught never to surrender, soldier,” Jones piped up as Chase turned back around.

“Well, what can I say? She had a good argument.” Chase bent down and let Jones wrap one arm around his neck as they moved slowly to the weight bench.

Jones sat down before speaking. “Well, it sounds to me like you’re walking straight into an ambush.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time.”

Chapter Four

The bus pulled away in a puff of exhaust, leaving Chase coughing in its wake. Looking around at the mansions looming on both sides of the road, he felt out of place in his jeans and a T-shirt. After double-checking the address, he stopped at a brick fence and iron gate which hid whatever house nestled on the other side. He pushed the intercom at the gate, expecting to be turned away.

“Yes?”

Chase realized he’d just been standing there like an idiot. “Um, is this Duchess’s house?”

“Who wants to know?” asked the woman’s voice on the other end.

“Oh, I’m from Veterans’ Aid. I have an appointment to see Ms. Murphy.” He tried to sound as professional as he could while wearing a sweaty T-shirt.

Surprisingly, the gates swung open, allowing him in. It was quite a walk to the front door, and combined with his hike from the bus, his clothes didn’t stand a chance against the humidity. Wiping the moisture from his brow, he rang the doorbell.

The door opened, and Chase could only stare. The woman before him had brown hair pulled back into a severe bun, electric blue eyes, and she wore a professional-looking outfit with heels. But she couldn’t hide her beauty.

“Come this way,” she said before she turned away, leaving the door open.

He stood still before shaking himself out of his stupor and following behind.
What is my problem? It’s not like I’ve never seen a beautiful woman before.

The woman led him to an office with double doors. Shelves of books lined the walls, and the mahogany accents throughout the room gave it an opulent feel. It definitely wasn’t what he expected.

He noticed the chair behind the desk was empty.

“Do I just wait for her here?” he asked the woman.

“For who?”

“Ms. Murphy.”

“Oh, I apologize.” The woman stepped forward and held out her hand. “I’m Katherine Murphy, but everyone just calls me Katie.”

This
was Duchess’s manager? He’d expected someone with a more electric persona. The woman before him was the complete opposite. Her professional, organized demeanor caught him off guard.

Belatedly, he stuck his hand out to meet hers. “I’m Carter … I mean, Chase.” He stumbled over his words. “Actually, my name is Carter Chase, but everyone just calls me Chase.” The warmth of her hand in his spread, and he released it with regret.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Chase. Shall we discuss the benefit concert?” She moved to stand behind the desk, and suddenly the memory of being in the principal’s office came to mind.

“Chase,” he corrected her.

“Excuse me?”

“It’s just Chase. No ‘Mr.’ necessary.” He grinned, trying to be charming, though he didn’t think it’d work.

“Okay, Chase,” she said in a brisk manner. “After talking to Amber last week, I’ve put together a list of what you’ll need to make this happen.”

She gestured to the chair on the other side of her desk, and they both sat down. She pulled out some papers and started to read.

“You’ll need a venue, more artists, a marketing team, set designers, a host, a backstage manager, and someone to coordinate flights, hotels, and dinners for any artists who need them. You will also need a security detail, and someone to oversee the security for the whole concert.”

“That’s me,” he piped up.

“What’s you?” She looked up from her paper.

“The security person. At least, that’s what Amber told me. So just give me any assignments you have for that part of the concert, and I’ll get out of your hair.”

“There’s a lot more to it than that. I can’t plan a benefit concert—I have other things to worry about. I’m just getting the information to you, and you and Amber can do it. Of course, Duchess will be the first artist to commit to the concert, so that should help.”

She pushed the papers toward him and stood up like they were done. She expected him to plan the whole thing, but the thought of planning a benefit concert and talking to people caused him to break out into a cold sweat. Why would anyone want to help him? The answer dropped a heavy rock into his stomach. Pity. The only angle he had was to play the wounded vet card, and it was a card he hated. He stood up and faced her across the desk.

“Wait—aren’t you going to plan it? I mean, I think that’s what Amber had in mind.”

This woman had the connections to pull off the concert without him having to become the charity’s poster boy.

“No, she said you would be able to handle it. Can you handle it, Mr. Chase?” She looked at him doubtfully, and he suddenly had the feeling she found him lacking in ability.

“Of course I could handle it, but that’s not the point.”

“Good, then. That’s settled. I’ll just give you this information, and you can be on your way.”

Chase looked down at the stack of papers she held out. He couldn’t plan a concert—he didn’t know the first thing about it. His hands began to shake slightly and he shoved them into his pockets.

“Look, I might be able to handle the security part of the concert, but the rest is a little beyond my knowledge.” He rocked back on his heels, suddenly wishing he had never come. “I know Amber was counting on your help, and the building we have our eye on will go to another person if we can’t get the money.” He looked at the floor, mumbling, “Why Amber set all her hopes and dreams on someone like Duchess, I don’t know.”

“What does that mean?” she asked, her voice full of heat.

“What does
what
mean?” He glanced back up.

“‘Someone like Duchess.’ What did you mean by that?”

“It doesn’t seem like helping others is her top priority. To be honest, her music is so brainless, I guess thinking is difficult for her.” The words rushed out of his mouth.

“Excuse me?”

The tone in her voice set off warning bells in his head, but he didn’t listen to them. “She makes a mockery of America with her jokes about the American Revolution. I have no idea why Amber thought she would want to help wounded veterans. She laughs at the deaths of the soldiers who died so we could be free from her country, all because it would have been better to have fish ’n chips.”

Katie stared at him, and Chase shifted his weight again.

“When you put it that way,
Mr
. Chase, I’m not sure why you’d want Duchess at your concert either. You can probably find plenty of artists with brains who don’t like fish ’n chips. You can charm them into dropping everything and performing in your little concert in just three months.” She walked to the double doors and opened one, waiting for him to exit. “Give my apologies to Amber, but I think we’ll have to pass on this one.”

“Good idea. We wouldn’t want Duchess to look like she had a heart. It would ruin her image.”

He watched her face blanch at the comment, and looked away quickly as he stood and stalked out the door. He didn’t wait for her to show him out of the house.

He stormed down the path to the gate. He hadn’t really meant to say all those things about Duchess—it had just sort of come out. But people like that made him so mad. While they sat around bad-mouthing his country, he had gotten blown up for it! What had Duchess contributed to America? Repetitive song lyrics and a distorted sense of fashion? And what did America give her for it? Fame, fortune, and adoration.

He, on the other hand, had given up his leg, his wife, and his old life for his country, and what did they give him? Disability pay, which wasn’t even enough to buy a car he could drive with his left leg, and he wasn’t the only one. He watched the soldiers who came into Veterans’ Aid every day. Their sacrifices and suffering were all for a country that would rather worship a trumped-up Brit dressed in old costumes and a mini skirt. These heroic men and women were willing to give the ultimate sacrifice—and many wished they had—while people like Duchess thumbed their nose at Americans and were rewarded for it.

He’d told Amber this was a bad idea. He stopped as he thought about Amber and Veterans’ Aid. What was she going to say? Maybe they could find someone else to be their feature artist. Why did Amber have to pick Duchess, anyway? But he knew the answer to that, didn’t he? In Hollywood, it’s about who you know. Katie was her only contact, unless she had other friends from her hometown who also managed a major pop icon. And he had messed it up.

Scrubbing a hand over his face, he looked at the gate up ahead. He could keep walking and leave that big mansion and Duchess’s strangely beautiful, yet cold manager behind forever, but what would he tell Amber? What would he tell Jones or the many other veterans who had come to depend on Veterans’ Aid? He could picture their disappointed faces in his mind. As he played back the conversation in his head, he could see where he went wrong. Excuses piled up. If only he hadn’t felt so trapped—if only she hadn’t been so beautiful. Shaking his head, he knew only he was to blame, and only he could fix it.

He grunted as he realized it was going to take a lot of groveling to the ice queen in the castle behind him. It was time to see how good he was at melting ice. He knew it would take a miracle to pull it off.

Chapter Five

Katie heard the door slam, and had never been so glad to see someone leave.

“Who’s there?” Katie’s mom shuffled into the office.

“No one.” Katie didn’t really want to explain it. She sat on the couch and rubbed her temples.

“But I heard the door.” Her mother wasn’t going to let this go.

“It was just the person Amber asked me to meet with. He didn’t stay long.” She wondered why that statement filled her with regret.

“What did he want?”

“He wanted Duchess to be in a benefit concert for Veterans’ Aid, but he sure had a funny way of asking.”

“Oh? What did he say?”

Katie sighed. She supposed she needed to tell someone, or she would just keep fuming. “He said that Duchess’s music was brainless and that I make fun of Americans.”

“That’s all?”

“Well, he has something against fish ’n chips too. I mean who doesn’t love fish ’n chips?” Katie stood up and started pacing. “And I do not laugh at the deaths of American soldiers. The fish ’n chips song never mentions dying soldiers. It was meant as a joke. He should lighten up.” She wasn’t sure why his comments had bothered her so much. It’s not like she hadn’t dealt with critics before. It came with the territory. You couldn’t please everyone.

“You mean Duchess.”

Katie had forgotten her mother was still there.

“What?

“You mean
Duchess
doesn’t laugh at the death of soldiers. Because you were talking about Duchess, but you said ‘I.’”

“I did?” She could get in big trouble if she slipped up like that in front of anyone else. “Well, of course I meant Duchess. Not that I make light of the deaths of American soldiers either.”

“Was he cute?”

Katie blinked. How was she supposed to keep up with her mother? The woman knew how to disarm her every time.

“Who?” She hoped she could deflect the question and ignore the image of the tall, well-built man that came to her mind.

“The fish ’n chips hater. Was he handsome or a bottom feeder?”

“A bottom feeder? Mom, where do you get your slang? I’m pretty sure you didn’t use it right.”

“So I take that to mean he was cute.”

“Cute? I guess, in a he-probably-works-out-everyday sort of way.” She didn’t realize how much she’d noticed the biceps peeking out from under the sleeves of his T-shirt. Of course, she hadn’t had a date in two years, so any male would probably look good to her at this point. Not that she had time to look at men, much less date them. A heavy sigh escaped as she thought about what it would be like to have a relationship with someone besides a made-up pop diva. An intense longing ached inside.

“Oh, I see,” her mother said with a soft smile and left the room. Katie wondered what just happened, but at least Shirley had stopped asking questions. Katie allowed herself to drop onto the couch again just as the doorbell rang. Pushing herself up, she got to the door right before her mother. She winced as she saw the topic of their conversation standing in front of her.

“Can I help you with something, Mr. Chase? If you came back to insult Duchess again, you can leave now.”

“Um, yeah, about that. I’m really sorry—I shouldn’t have said those things. Please accept my apology.” He flashed her a big smile, revealing dimples. Dimples like that should be illegal. At the very least, it was dirty pool. How was she supposed to think when all she wanted to do was reach out and touch his beautiful smile?

“So you don’t think her music is brainless or that she makes a mockery of America?” Katie folded her arms across her stomach, hoping to hide the fluttering feeling inside.

“I didn’t say that. I just shouldn’t have said it out loud.” His dimples were gone, but his lips twitched, and Katie had the feeling he was laughing at her.

Before she could respond, her mother pushed by her and opened the door wider.

“Carter?”

Katie stared at her mother, who was pulling the tall, handsome man into a hug.

“Shirley?” He seemed surprised as he took a step back. “What are you doing here?”

“I live here.”

“With Duchess?”

“Well, with Katie. This is Duchess’s decoy house, and we’re really just the caretakers. Not a bad gig, huh?” She gestured for him to come inside. Katie had to stand aside or risk being pushed over by her mother, who shot her a glare.

Chase came in and looked around. “Nice place.” He paused as his eyes settled on Katie. “How do you know Katie?”