Chasing the Dream: Dream Series, Book 3 by Isabelle Peterson Page B
Authors: Isabelle Peterson
Ads: Link
Jimmy Fallon . Are you set with your list of approved questions?” Valerie asked.
“Is that tonight? Yeah. I’ll be fine. They can ask anything. I’ll answer anything.” He cracked open the water that I had brought him. He was drinking the water I handed to him. I watched awestruck as his jaw and throat moving seductively while he drank. This was surreal. ‘James Blond,’ ‘Patrick Martin,’ ‘Zane Chatham’ was drinking water I got for him. As his lips worked that water bottle, I felt all sorts of naughty watching him.
Slowly, I came to realize that two sets of eyes were glued to me. Not just Chase’s dreamy violet-blues, but also Valerie’s cool greens.
“Sorry, were you talking to me?” I asked, feeling my cheeks burn with embarrassment.
“Yeah, baby. I was asking if you needed to sit. You’re looking a bit like you might take a dive,” Chase said, the left side of his mouth going up slightly. If I didn’t need to sit before that little smirky-grin, then I definitely needed to now. He called me ‘baby.’ Just like he called Nessie ‘Baby’ on Shore Socialites.
“So, Ms. Cocozza. Is this little peach my new personal assistant?” Chase asked, pinning Valerie to her seat with his glare. At least his eyes were off of me. I felt like I was in another universe when he looked at me.
“No, Mr. Smythe. Phoebe is my assistant. She will be helping me interview a new assistant for you over the next couple of days. One who will hopefully keep you in line. But we do need to get one thing straight,” Valerie asserted. “You are here to work. And you will work. Breech of contract is not a fun road to travel. I know I don’t have to remind you that I know your manager very well, and if you want ‘this’,” she said, drawing a circle around the dressing room, “to stay here and quiet, you’ll work, and behave. ”
Chase raised his hand to his brow and saluted Valerie. “Yes, ma’am,” he barked, then glanced at me and winked. God! He winked at me! I need to reel it in. I was in danger of swooning—big time.
“Now,” Valerie said, standing and looking at her watch. “Up you go, and the car is downstairs waiting to get you to the set. Do you know what scenes you are shooting today?” she asked, looking through the clipboard.
“Yeah. I’m all set. Got it,” he said, his eyes settling on me again. It took every bit of strength I had, but I focused my attention on Valerie.
“I have a meeting that I cannot miss. Miss Fairchild will get you to set, and then dinner and off to do your bit with Jimmy Fallon, and back to your hotel , not the local bar. You have an early call time tomorrow. You listen to her and you respect her, or you will answer to me.” It was very funny to see Valerie scold Chase like a three-year-old.
Wait! WHAT? ME?! Escorting Chase Smythe around Manhattan! Omigod! OHMIgod! OHMIGOD! And Jimmy Fallon? I wanted to pinch myself to make sure that I wasn’t dreaming. Surely, I was dreaming. I was probably still on the sofa, and it was super late at night and Jimmy Fallon must be on the TV right now, and possibly interviewing Chase Smythe. And I’ve rolled all of these things into an elaborate dream.
“We’ll give you a moment to get yourself together.” Valerie stood and headed to the door, but I was still rooted to the spot considering this enormous, fantastic ‘assignment’ I’d just been given, in my dream . I watched Chase stand, his gorgeous body rippling under his clothes. He ran his hand through his thick, blonde hair while checking his appearance in the full-length mirror next to the door and I wondered what it would feel like to run my hands through that gorgeous mop of hair. “Phoebe?” Valerie called from the hallway.
“Oh, yes,” I stammered and followed. If this was a dream, I did not want to wake up.
CHAPTER 7
A s the studio’s Lincoln Town Car made its way through lunch hour traffic, I did everything possible to calm my raging nerves and
“Is that tonight? Yeah. I’ll be fine. They can ask anything. I’ll answer anything.” He cracked open the water that I had brought him. He was drinking the water I handed to him. I watched awestruck as his jaw and throat moving seductively while he drank. This was surreal. ‘James Blond,’ ‘Patrick Martin,’ ‘Zane Chatham’ was drinking water I got for him. As his lips worked that water bottle, I felt all sorts of naughty watching him.
Slowly, I came to realize that two sets of eyes were glued to me. Not just Chase’s dreamy violet-blues, but also Valerie’s cool greens.
“Sorry, were you talking to me?” I asked, feeling my cheeks burn with embarrassment.
“Yeah, baby. I was asking if you needed to sit. You’re looking a bit like you might take a dive,” Chase said, the left side of his mouth going up slightly. If I didn’t need to sit before that little smirky-grin, then I definitely needed to now. He called me ‘baby.’ Just like he called Nessie ‘Baby’ on Shore Socialites.
“So, Ms. Cocozza. Is this little peach my new personal assistant?” Chase asked, pinning Valerie to her seat with his glare. At least his eyes were off of me. I felt like I was in another universe when he looked at me.
“No, Mr. Smythe. Phoebe is my assistant. She will be helping me interview a new assistant for you over the next couple of days. One who will hopefully keep you in line. But we do need to get one thing straight,” Valerie asserted. “You are here to work. And you will work. Breech of contract is not a fun road to travel. I know I don’t have to remind you that I know your manager very well, and if you want ‘this’,” she said, drawing a circle around the dressing room, “to stay here and quiet, you’ll work, and behave. ”
Chase raised his hand to his brow and saluted Valerie. “Yes, ma’am,” he barked, then glanced at me and winked. God! He winked at me! I need to reel it in. I was in danger of swooning—big time.
“Now,” Valerie said, standing and looking at her watch. “Up you go, and the car is downstairs waiting to get you to the set. Do you know what scenes you are shooting today?” she asked, looking through the clipboard.
“Yeah. I’m all set. Got it,” he said, his eyes settling on me again. It took every bit of strength I had, but I focused my attention on Valerie.
“I have a meeting that I cannot miss. Miss Fairchild will get you to set, and then dinner and off to do your bit with Jimmy Fallon, and back to your hotel , not the local bar. You have an early call time tomorrow. You listen to her and you respect her, or you will answer to me.” It was very funny to see Valerie scold Chase like a three-year-old.
Wait! WHAT? ME?! Escorting Chase Smythe around Manhattan! Omigod! OHMIgod! OHMIGOD! And Jimmy Fallon? I wanted to pinch myself to make sure that I wasn’t dreaming. Surely, I was dreaming. I was probably still on the sofa, and it was super late at night and Jimmy Fallon must be on the TV right now, and possibly interviewing Chase Smythe. And I’ve rolled all of these things into an elaborate dream.
“We’ll give you a moment to get yourself together.” Valerie stood and headed to the door, but I was still rooted to the spot considering this enormous, fantastic ‘assignment’ I’d just been given, in my dream . I watched Chase stand, his gorgeous body rippling under his clothes. He ran his hand through his thick, blonde hair while checking his appearance in the full-length mirror next to the door and I wondered what it would feel like to run my hands through that gorgeous mop of hair. “Phoebe?” Valerie called from the hallway.
“Oh, yes,” I stammered and followed. If this was a dream, I did not want to wake up.
CHAPTER 7
A s the studio’s Lincoln Town Car made its way through lunch hour traffic, I did everything possible to calm my raging nerves and
Similar Books
