Loving the Chase (Heart of the Storm #1) (28 page)

Zach met his mother’s eyes. “And lost him to the storm.”

“I lost him because it was his time, baby,” she said. “And I would do it all over again. I had the love of my life. I have five exasperating children and a granddaughter from it. You don’t stop reaching for happiness on the off chance you might lose it.”

There was a long pause as they both let the minutes tick by.

“You’re thinking you could give it up,” she said finally, making him look at her. “Aren’t you?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “Maybe. I could be like Levi. Work an eight-hour day, come home and watch TV.”

His mother chuckled. “This what you’ve been sitting around here thinking?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“You’re more like your daddy than any of the others,” she said. “You have his same drive, his same need for the rush. I worry more about you because of that, but I could no more watch you wither on the vine than I could him.” She sighed. “Baby, the quiet has never been your best friend. Makes you think too much. You thrive in chaos.” She put a hand on his arm. “It’s who you are. You go putting yourself in a box, then you won’t be you anymore.”

He let go of a long tired breath. “I know.”

“Don’t do anything solely for someone else, Zach,” she said. “When it comes down to it, they can leave, they can die, or they can walk away. All you truly have is yourself. You have to be happy with that.”

“She doesn’t deserve to play second, Mom,” he said.

His mother gave him a look. “So don’t put her second.”

He laughed. “Just like that?”

She pushed up off the couch, groaning with the effort. “Honey, that’s a choice. If you’re so thickheaded that you can’t see that, then I don’t know what to tell you.”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

M
addi sat back in her chair, rolling her head on her shoulders. She’d watched and edited and watched and watched again till she could roll tape in her sleep. It wasn’t the pilot they wanted—there weren’t enough camera angles—but it was different.

Where most shows would edit out most of the personal stuff, Maddi was keeping it in. It was working. There was a lot of Zach in there, but the camera loved him. No matter what he was doing, it worked. But was it working because she knew him and had a personal connection—was she too close to be objective? Was it the camera that loved Zach, or just her? That was the question.

A message box opened up at the bottom right of her screen and she clicked it.

Maddi, come in here.

From Nicole, in the cutting room.

Great. The footage wasn’t good. She
was
too close. She failed. She would be demoted back to the crew minions and forced to apply to work nights at the Chicken King around the corner to bring in some extra money.

“Shit, shit, shit,” she muttered, resting her face in her hands. The show had been the only thing keeping her going. The only thing taking her mind off what her heart was knocking around. As long as she focused on the project, she could hold the other thoughts at bay. His face. His eyes. His voice. His mouth.
I still love you, Zach.
“Okay, time to face the music.”

Taking a detour to the break room for a cold shot of water, Maddi smiled at an older man she recognized from the news side. Shows and news didn’t mingle much so she didn’t really know him, but procrastination was paramount.

“How’s it going?” she asked.

“Nerve-wracking,” he said, smoothing back thin hair.

“Oh?”

He was going to be one of those who truly tells how it’s going, she realized. That was okay. She had the time.

“Yeah, there’s a reporter here from Infinity’s cable side, looking to compare web and cable,” he said. “My boss wants a human interest story to push the web ratings. Like now.”

“Don’t have one?” she offered.

He shook his head. “I got nothing.”

“So you’re in here instead?”

“Yep,” he said, slumping against the counter.

Maddi raised her hand. “Me too. Putting off stretching my neck across the guillotine right now.”

The guy smiled and bumped her plastic cup with his. “To putting off the inevitable.”

“Hear, hear.”

“Seriously?”

Maddi hadn’t heard right. She knew she hadn’t heard right.

“Do you want me to say it differently?” Nicole said, laughing.

“No—I mean,” Maddi began. “I just assumed it was going to be bad news when you called me in here.”

“Well, it is,” Brown said, piping up from his throne at the end of the table. “Elijah Chase still wants to cancel the contract. Says he doesn’t care about the consequences, he just wants out.”

“But he hasn’t seen the finished product,” Nicole said. “And it is amazing.”

Oh, holy hell, she said it was amazing. Maddi had pulled it off. She’d actually pulled it off. And now Eli was going to give it the kiss of death.

It was over.

Maddi blew out a breath and smiled at Nicole. “Thank you. But he won’t care about the finished product. He—only cares about his family. About helping people. He’s bailing because of me. I pushed too hard and put people in danger, instead of letting them do their jobs.”

“You were doing
your
job,” Nicole said, glancing at Brown. “Don’t beat yourself up for being aggressive.”

“But when it becomes about the show instead of what the show is about—” Maddi said, shaking her head. “That’s where I went south. I got greedy and forgot that what they do is important.”

“Oh, fuck me,” Brown said, rubbing his eyes. “I don’t care what they do. I do care what I do. I care that Woodbriar will roll me on a spigot if this pilot doesn’t air.”

Maddi’s heart sank into her feet, and all the things she’d been holding off joined it.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

A ding from the computer in front of Nicole brought her eyes down. She frowned, then looked at Maddi.

“You have a visitor up front,” she said.

“I do?” Maddi said.

“You do,” Nicole said, looking smug. “A Mr. Chase is waiting.”

Maddi didn’t even remember getting up from her chair or leaving the room. Finding herself nearly running down the hallway was a tad eye-opening, if not embarrassing, and she forced her feet to slow down.

Zach was here. She didn’t know why, and she didn’t care. Maybe he was only there professionally and it had nothing to do with her, but it didn’t matter. Because she was hyperventilating over the opportunity to see his face.

“You’re pathetic,” she said under her breath, rounding the corner just in time to see him get up.

“Maddi,” he said.

She stopped short. “Eli.”

Realization crossed his features and he smiled apologetically as he pointed behind him at the desk. “Mr. Chase—you thought—”

“No!” she said, willing her heart to slow back down. “Of course not.”

“It’s all over you, Maddi,” he said.

“Ugh,” she said, swatting at him. “Fine. You got me. Come on.”

Laughing, he followed her back to her office, every female they passed giving him a double take.
Yes, yes, ladies, he’s a catch. He’s also the rock to sink my career.

“Well, you don’t appear to still hate me,” she began after they were seated in her office. “So I guess I can offer you some coffee or something.”

He smiled and sat back. “I wouldn’t get coffee if I hated you?”

“Well, no,” she said. “I don’t generally arm my enemies with hot liquids.”

He chuckled. “I never hated you,” he said. “God, you have to know that.”

“But I put everything you love at risk,” she said. “I know that, too.” She leaned forward. “I’m sorry, Eli.”

“I know,” he said.

“And you came in person to void the contract, didn’t you?” she asked.

His eyes went serious. “It’s not what we’re about, Maddi. The lights and the cameras and the phoniness of it. That’s not why we do this.”

That was exactly it. He’d nailed it. There was no phoniness to it. It was real. “I want to show you the rough cut of the pilot, Eli—”

“You’re not hearing me,” he said. “I don’t care about the show. I don’t need to—”

“Just watch it with me,” she said. “Please. I promise you, you’ll be pleasantly surprised, and—” Bells went off. Lights flashed in her head. “Oh, my God,” she whispered.

“What?”

It was a long shot. Like a pinprick of light in all of space kind of long shot. But—

“Eli, what if we could do something else in addition to the show?” she asked, her voice low like it all might blow away if she spoke too loudly.

He laughed. “Now you want to add something else? Are you crazy?”

“No,” she said, her mind already ticking. “Something real. Something helpful. Something for you.”

Eli’s eyes narrowed, his scar following his eyebrows downward. “What are you up to?”

Maddi licked her lips and got up, popping her knuckles. “Come with me. Give me a chance, Eli. If this doesn’t change your mind, I won’t bother you again.”

“What are you doing?”

“Hopefully saving two jobs at once.”

Zach didn’t know what to think. Or actually, yeah, he did. He had no doubt that Eli calling them together at Zach’s house on a Monday morning was his grandiose way of dropping the wrecking ball on everything. It was no secret that he hadn’t wanted the show from the very beginning. And he’d had no qualms telling anyone who would listen about how it all fell apart exactly like he’d predicted.

So then, it was over. The big new plans for exposure, expansion, and something amazing—it was all over. Maddi coming back—even for a day or so—that was off the table now, too. And that was the real shit of it all. Zach knew that was the part eating at him the worst, and it pissed him off.

Simon had come early with donuts to calm Zach with sugar, but it only wound him tighter.

“I hear voices,” Simon said as noise accumulated out on the porch.

“Whatever,” Zach said.

“Hey, it was fun while it lasted,” Simon said.

“Come in!” Zach yelled when the knock finally came.

The door swung open to Quinn first, which put a slow smile on Simon’s face.
What a sap. People like us don’t get to be in love.
Behind her walked in Hannah and his mom, followed by Elijah on high. Not that Zach was feeling cynical or anything.

“Well, the gang’s all here,” Zach said, holding up a hand. He smiled at Eli. “Need a gavel?”

Eli smirked. “Just stop talking, will you?” He nodded toward the big flat-screen TV and glanced at his watch. “It’s noon. Turn that on.”

“Why?”

Eli gave him a look of barely restrained patience. “Just do it.”

Zach shook his head and picked up the remote. “Any particular channel, Your Highness, or you just want the background noise?”

“Channel fifty-four,” Eli said.

Zach flipped through till he landed on fifty-four. He had no idea what Eli had up his sleeve, but he had just enough bad attitude going on to keep mouthing about it.

“Anybody want something to drink?” he asked. “Simon brought donuts. Popcorn, maybe?”

“Shut up!” Eli said.

“Y’all be nice,” their mom said, frowning. “I’m tired of the two of you already.”

A man came on-screen, bringing Zach’s attention back. The logo for Infinity appeared at the bottom right-hand corner of the screen.

“That’s Infinity,” Zach said.

“I thought they were just web,” Hannah said.

“They have a cable presence?” Simon asked at the same time.

Zach looked at Eli, standing to the side with his hands in his pockets, jaw muscles twitching, staring a hole in the TV screen. A nervous energy emanated off him.

“We’re hitting the roads with a new segment,” the man said with a cheesy grin. “Hitting the airwaves and web waves, actually,” he continued with a chuckle. “Looking for stories of the heart. Stories that evoke reactions. Now, because media is everywhere now, we’re venturing outside the traditional cable venues.

“You’re probably familiar with our own sister-station web network, Infinity dot com, which has grown by leaps and bounds in the past five years. While still young, it has produced some of the best reality shows out there, including one of my personal favorites,
Crash & Burn
,” he said with a grin. “Web networks like ours are capturing an equal market these days.”