Chapter 26 - Chase Me, Cowboy

I’m on a music video shoot for one of my clients. We’re at the edge of the woods in upstate New York, not so far from where she stays with her mom. I wonder whether she’s still there, or if she went home.

It’s raining, a light mist. The woods, usually lush and green in this part of the state, are a dull orange-brown. Crew members move around me, streaks in the corners of my vision. Rain gathers on the shoulders of my windbreaker and streams down to my boots. This part of the video is sad. And wet. So it’s the perfect weather for it.

I blink, running a hand over my face. My feet are starting to go numb.

“Cut,” the director calls.

Everyone relaxes and starts talking. A pair of actors walk past me and smile, like they want to start a conversation. I dip my head, giving them a thin-lipped smile that clearly sends the message I’m not in the mood to converse.

“Jamie.”

I turn, and it’s my client, a country-folk artist who goes by Lenny. If I’m being honest, he’s one of my least favorite clients on a personal level, but he makes a lot of money and knows a lot of people who benefit me. Unfortunately, that’s just the way things go sometimes. He’s a blunt, lanky man, with high expectations that I always manage to meet, but am still exhausted from. Today, he’s in a brown suit, his long hair tied back at the nape of his neck. Light rain sits unabsorbed on his wool jacket.

“Hey,” I say, shaking his hand.

“Didn’t think you’d turn up,” he says. “I was calling you the other week.”

Normally, I’d apologize. I’d offer to make up for missing his calls in some other way. Today, I stare at him and think about being in my bed with Serena, how the world was so much better for those few nights that my phone was off.

“I was busy,” I say finally.

He snorts. “I didn’t think you got busy enough to turn your phone off.”

“I did this time.”

He plants his feet apart, swaying from side to side. “You caught up in some new shit?”

“Nah, personal.”

He doesn’t move. This is what I hate about this motherfucker. If he feels he’s owed all my attention, he demands an explanation as if I’m on the clock and wasting time he’s paid for. Anger flares in my chest. Usually I’m good at handling this, but right now, my temper is short. And I’m wet and chilly.

“I was in my house, in Maine,” I say shortly, turning to walk toward the tent.

“Oh yeah?” He falls into step beside me.

“Getting laid. Any further questions?”

That’s the most unprofessional I’ve ever gotten with him. It takes him a second to recover. He lifts his palms, as if I volunteered the information unprovoked.

“Alright, sorry I asked,” he says.

“I am, too.”

We enter the tent, and I split off, going around to the coffee bar for a foam cup of burnt coffee. Lenny is probably gonna be pissed, he might bitch to Marion, but there’s not much he can do to me. The buck stops here, even though I rarely say that aloud.

I have some acrid coffee and try not to think about Maine.

The crew is staying in a hotel a few miles north of the Canadian border. I get in early and head to my room without speaking to anyone. Being pulled out on a shoot is pretty common for me, but this is the first time I’ve struggled this badly to concentrate. After putting some warmth back into my limbs in the shower, I turn on the electric fireplace and sink against the headboard.

My phone sits on the bedside table. I shouldn’t, but I reach for it and search her name. Her TikTok account comes up, which I’ve stalked several times. Until now, it’s just been selfies and trends. A ripple of surprise tingles through my body and centers in my chest. She’s been posting covers, sitting in her pink sweatsuit at her keyboard.

I click on one. She’s singing a folk song that was popular last summer in her sweet, vibrant voice. Her hands shake a little, but she doesn’t miss a note.

My gut wrenches.

God, she is something special. Not just because I want her… This is the second cover she posted, and it has thirty thousand likes on it.

My throat is tight.

I should put my phone down and forget about it. But I can’t move. So I watch the video again and again, until I’ve memorized every note, every move, every tremor in her hands. Until I can see her on the insides of my eyelids when I close them.

Until I fall asleep.