I leaned down and kissed her on the cheek before answering the call, pressing the phone to my ear as I moved toward the counter to settle the bill.
19
THE DREAM
Chris sat in a comfortable chair in the corner of the living room, holding a coffee mug. The room around him was pristine and clearly expensive, but it didn’t scream for attention. It was simple, warm, and elegant. It somehow managed to be both impressive and cozy. A perfect reflection of the woman who made it home.
Across from him, a young man paced like his life depended on it, phone glued to his ear. His voice was pleading and panicked as he argued with someone on the other end. After another useless lap across the room, he finally stopped and looked at Chris, defeated.
“They need you there by May 4th.” He said it like the words themselves hurt to deliver. There was a flicker of fear, too, like he was bracing for impact.
But Chris only smiled, took a sip of his coffee, and leaned back.
“Our contract says June. I’m not leaving before that.” Final. Simple.
The young man blinked. He glanced at the phone, unsure what to do next.
“But, sir…”
From the hallway, the double doors swung open, and Vanessa emerged. Her heels clicked across the hardwood floor as she zeroed in on the assistant with pure disdain.
“For the love of God, kid. I’ve told you this before: if you let them senseanywiggle room, they’ll walk all over you.” Without missing a beat, she snatched the phone from his hands.
Chris raised an eyebrow and warned. “Vanessa…”
She rolled her eyes. “When is she done filming?”
“May 30th.” He replied immediately.
Vanessa raised the phone to her ear. “Mr. Jones will be there on June 1st and not a minute before, Gloria. If sticking to the contract is suddenly a problem, feel free to find yourself a new lead actor. Although I imagine selling the project without Chris Jones attached might be a challenge.” She paused, smiling like a villain about to win the war. Chris knew that smile. He chuckled into his coffee.
The poor assistant was visibly shaking by now.
“Perfect,” Vanessa said, then hung up and handed the phone back to the young man. She stepped closer and lowered her voice. “He’s not going anywhere without his wife. Doesn’t matter what they offer.Trust me. Next time, don’t even ask.”
“Y-yes, ma’am.” He stuttered.
While Vanessa pivoted back to business with the assistant, Chris’ eyes drifted to the back of the house and caught a door opening. His entire face lit up. He set the mug down on the table beside him as his wife walked into the room.
“Hey…” Jules said softly, already moving toward him. She climbed onto his lap, wrapped her arms around his neck, and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. He welcomed her, one hand onher back, the other resting on her thigh, fingertips tracing slow circles.
“Hey…” He said back, his smile brighter now.
“I heard Vanessa murdering someone over the phone.”
“It was just attempted murder. They’ll survive.” Chris replied.
“You sure? I know how important this project is to you…” Her expression shifted, fingers brushing along his jaw. There was a flicker of concern in her eyes.
“They’ll figure it out. And if they don’t…” He shrugged.
“Chris.” Her voice was gentle but firm now. Her eyes were locked onto his with that look that could get anything and everything from him. “We can handle a month apart.”
“I know we can…” He said, tucking a loose stand of hair behind her ear so he could see both her eyes, with nothing in the way. He wanted her to see the truth in him when he said, “I just don’t want to.” Her concern softened. “I don’t want to spend one night away from you, let alone twenty-eight.”
There it was—a hint of a smile. He caught it and smiled back.
“I know. I’m adorable,” he said, and she fought it with an eye roll, but the smile broke through anyway.
