Chapter 39 - Chase Me, Cowboy

This time, when I drop her at the airport, she cries—only a few tears.

“What’s wrong, baby?” I ask, pulling her into my chest.

She wipes her face, steeling herself. “Nothing. I just wish this was less complicated.”

I wish that, too, but I also know I’ll never stand in the way of her goals. If she still wants to seek representation through ITA, it’s not my place to stop her. And it’s not my place to ask. This is a choice she has to make on her own. Ethically, I can’t sway her in a decision that either way she goes, I gain and lose something.

I fucking know what my heart wants.

She clears her throat, tilting her head to offer a watery smile. I brush her hair back and kiss her, long, deep. When I pull back, my chest is warm, and electricity sizzles between our bodies. Gently, I brush my thumb over her cheekbone.

“You better go, or you’re gonna miss your flight, baby,” I murmur.

She nods, but doesn’t move. I don’t move, either.

What if I took her to Houston with me? What if she never went home? Her flight boards in thirty minutes, and she hasn’t gone through security. When she doesn’t move, I force myself to step back. She wipes her face again and lifts her shoulders. Then, once again, I stand and watch her go.

This time, I don’t handle it as well.

That worries me. Other than when I smashed TJ’s face into the wall and the headlock I put Noah in the other day, I’ve always been able to keep my cool and behave professionally. Since she came around. I’m cracking. Little tiny weaknesses I never saw coming. Now, my priorities are on their head.

I head back to a hotel near the airport. My flight isn’t for another three hours, and I’d like to give Marion a call. First, I need to shower off this morning because I look like I was fucking in a cabin for days. Then, I put on something comfortable for my flights, grab my luggage, and head out to get an Uber. In the backseat, I hit the call button and put the phone to my ear.

“Hey,” Marion says, picking up on the first ring.

“Hey,” I say.

“Nice to hear from you.” She’s not pissed; sounds more like concern.

“I’m good, thanks for letting me take a couple days.”

“I’ve always encouraged you to,” she replies briskly.

Her car door shuts and I wait while her phone connects to the Bluetooth. “Where you headed?”

“Houston,” she says.

“I’m headed to Houston. Is this Lenny?”

“Nope, I got a client who wanted a meeting at Dreamgate.”

I’m quiet for a minute. “Have you heard from Noah Banker at all?”

“I have not. How did that go?”

I release a sigh, and she groans.

“He swung at me, and I put him in a headlock,” I admit, glancing up as my Uber pulls to the curb. I get out and unload my luggage, dragging it through the front doors. “Honestly, I don’t think it was a bad thing in the end.”

She takes a beat. I know she’s not angry because she trusts my judgment, but I also know she’s stressed out.

“Well, he hasn’t called,” she says. “And Madi hasn’t terminated her contract. How did she seem? You talk to her?”

“Yeah, we went out and got a burger. You know he has her on some bullshit pre-tour diet?”

“Jesus fucking Christ.”

I’m quiet for a second, standing in the security line tapping my foot. “I’m not gonna stand by this time. If I have to fuck him up, I will.”

“And you can do that without being hauled in front of a judge this time?”

“I can,” I say firmly.

There’s a long, long silence.

“Hey, Jamie,” she says.

“Yeah?”

“You know Coen really wasn’t your fault. And he’s okay, it all worked out.”

I want to believe that.

“Can I talk to you about something?” I ask. “I’ll have to call you once I get through security.”

“Of course, call me in a minute.”

I hang up right as it’s my turn. Luckily, the airport is pretty dead, and I sail through without a problem. On the other end, I grab myself a hot plain coffee and find an empty corner of the airport at my gate. All I have is my carry-on. I set it on the ground and stack my feet on it. Goddamn, my hamstrings are tight. Must be all that thrusting.

I pop my earbuds in and call Marion back, this time on a video call. She waits while I prop up the phone on my boots so I can drink my coffee.

“Alright, what’s eating you?”

“You know that girl I’ve been with?” I say, avoiding her eyes.

She’s also in the airport, sitting cross-legged on the floor in an oversized gray ITA hoodie. Her gray hair is tied at her nape, but she’s still got her signature bright pink lipstick on. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her without it.

“Yeah, I do,” she says.

“It’s Coen’s future sister-in-law.”

She snorts into her coffee, coughing. “Jesus, are you serious?”

“Yeah, dead serious.”

She runs a hand over her face. “Does Coen know?”

I nod. “I told him pretty quick. Last summer when I went down to Wyoming, we kinda ran into each other. There were some sparks, and we hooked up. Then, she was visiting her mom in New York, and that’s when I just…couldn’t take it anymore and texted her.”

Marion stares at the wall above her, forehead furrowed. “And she’s the one you think has some talent.”

“I know she does.”

“But she hasn’t done anything? Not even tried to rustle up some following online?”

“She has, she’s doing really well,” I say. “Not instant deal numbers, but I’ve seen steady growth.”

The corners of her mouth curve. I wait, but she doesn’t speak.

“What?” I ask.

“Jamie,” she says, voice dropping. “We’re not signing her.”

Deep inside, I knew that. I shot down her chance the night I slept with her in Wyoming, and I had no idea at the time. All I knew was…for the first time in a long time, I wanted more than to just get off with someone. I knew what she tasted like, smelled like, felt like against my body. That was enough to lose my head.

What am I feeling? I’m unsure.

“I’m sorry,” she says. “But we’re not the only agency.”

“No, but we’re really fucking good. The best.”

“I know, but nobody needs us to succeed. If she has the talent, she can get there on her own.” She’s using the tone she reserves for delivering bad news to clients. Soft and patient.

“Yeah,” I admit finally. “I know.”

“And you need to tell her so she’s not holding out hope.”

“I know that, too.”

We’re both quiet for a while. This is the reason I can trust Marion; even when she has to deliver a hard truth, it’s done with care. Finally, I run a hand over my face and release a sigh I know she can hear through the phone.

“Kinda seems like we’ve got a lot of problems to solve with our clients,” she says in a forcefully cheery tone.

“I do, anyway.”

“Let me talk to Lenny.”

“Nah, Lenny’s an asshole, but I know how to handle him.”

She frowns. “What started your problems with him?”

I shrug, picking up the phone so I can shift over. The gate is rapidly filling up with other passengers. “Nothing, he’s just always been irritating. Talks down to the people who work for him. Saw him lose his shit on a girl running the snack cart at a shoot early on. I had to pull him away and order him delivery. He’s just a dick, nothing big.”

“Nothing you could fire him on,” she says.

“No, it’s really fine,” I reply quickly.

It’s very rare that I release a client from their contract. There were a couple cases in the last decade, both times due to financial fraud on their part. Being an agent is a difficult job that not everyone is suited for, but I pride myself on being able to acclimate to all personalities.

Firing Lenny because he gets under my skin feels like…giving up.

I don’t give up.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Marion asks.

I blink, shaking my head. “Not worth a penny. I’m gonna go get another coffee.”

“Alright, you call me if you need anything. I can always help.”

“I know,” I say, getting to my feet. “I appreciate that.”

She smiles, hanging up. Once again, I’m at an airport gate alone, waiting on another plane. My coffee isn’t empty, but it is cold, so I get another cup and sink into the corner chair—only one available when I get back. Then, I swipe to Serena’s social media and hit the newest video. I’ve seen it before, just another cover, but I watch it about fifteen times before they finally call my boarding group.

Numb, I pick up my things and leave.