Page 68 of Out of the Gold

Melody

I take my seaton the plane as Chase stows the measly piece of luggage we brought from Ravello some fifteen hours ago. I’m still on a high from giving my first blow job. Although, truth be told, I am a bit frustrated as well. We’ll be back in Ravello in amereten hours. I can wait. I sigh.

Chase takes his seat on the aisle, where he can stretch out his long legs, even here in first class. The flight attendant is all over him like too many ruffles, though. Seriously? Doesn’t she have any pride?

Smiling like a lunatic, she asks him, “Would you like a glass of champagne?”

He turns to me. “Want one, darling?”

Even though I know he used the term of endearment for show, I can’t stop my heart from skipping. Offering a saccharine smile to the flight attendant, I bat my eyelashes and reply, “I’d love that, Chase.”

Chase. Using his stage name sounds so odd, but it was the right move for this moment. His eyes widen, then he turns back to the flight attendant and holds up two fingers. When she walks off, a now-fake smile plastered on her face, we both laugh.

“Chase?”

“Felt right, honey. My very own actor.”

He rolls his eyes. “You don’t need to lay it on so thick.”

I lean over and kiss his cheek. “Actually, I’ve seen my mother do that with my dad to some of his overenthusiastic fans a lot. It’s fun.”

He adjusts in his seat and runs the back of his hand down my cheek. “Tell me about your parents. I don’t know them at all, despite having grown up in the same neighborhood.”

His request warms my heart. “Actually, when I spoke with them before you got to my condo, I might have told them about you.”

“You did? All good, I hope.”

I nod. “Yeah. I told them I was in New York, traveling with you, for your audition. Mom knows who you are. My dad, well, he”—my voice trails off to barely audible—“wants to meet you.”

He cups his ear. “Huh? I didn’t hear that last part.”

I clear my throat. “My dad was being a father, you know? He wants to meet you,” I repeat, louder this time. “I told him he will, when the time is right.”

Charles’s eyelids slam over his blue eyes.

“That’s okay, right? You do want to meet them, don’t you?”

He opens his eyes, a softness there I’ve never seen before. “Yes,” he says. “That’d be nice.”

Our conversation is cut short when the flight attendant returns with our bubbly. Charles clinks his glass to mine. “Here’s to a short ride back to Italy.”

The champagne slides down my throat, leaving effervesce in its wake. Together with Charles’s admission he wants to meet my family, my decision to trust my gut that he’s a good guy is solidified. The plane takes off.

“So, tell me more about them.” At my quizzical look, he continues, “Your parents.”

“They’re very much in love, still. I’ve caught them giving silly looks to each other all the time. I used to be embarrassed by their expressions and stolen kisses, but now I’m grateful. They’ve shown me what love looks like. They both work really, really hard, but never forget to take time out for each other.” I explain how my mother turned the band’s finances around when she first started working for Hunte. Concluding, I say, “Even when I was young, they’d go away for date weekends every so often.”

“Sounds like a wonderful way to grow up.”

Something in his tone prompts me to ask, “What was it like growing up in the Wainwright household? Both of your parents are high-powered lawyers.”

He takes a swig of the champagne. “Yeah. They both valued their careers above everything else. Including their children. Now don’t get me wrong. Lindsay and I never lacked for anything growing up.”

I digest what he’s telling me. “Sounds a little lonely. Especially since you and your sister are five years apart. Basically, you both were only children. Sort of like King and me. Although, you grew up in the same household.”

He pulls on the end of my hair. “What were you like growing up? I can picture you as this wild tomboy, causing havoc everywhere you went.”

“Not exactly. I wasn’t a tomboy, that’s for sure. I was, well, just a regular girl. Or at least I wanted to be. Regular, that is.”

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