I Married a Master(13)
Author: Melanie Marchande

He snorted, glancing at me. "What, are we in boarding school? Call me Mr. Chase if you insist on going by last names."

"I absolutely will not." I laughed, leaning on my cart. "Seriously, what’s going on? Can’t figure out another meaningless formula tweak to renew your patents? Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll find a way to keep raking in those millions."

He looked like he was gritting his teeth. Had I actually found a way to get to him? That was a miracle – and pretty fun, to boot.

"If you have to know," he said, "I’m trying to figure out how to convince somebody to do something for me."

I raised my eyebrow at him. "I have a hard time believing that’s a struggle for you."

"Normally, it wouldn’t be. But I have a feeling this one’s going to be a tough nut to crack." He was giving me a look that I didn’t quite understand, but it sent a little shiver up the back of my neck.

"Well, I don’t mean to be crass, but a blank check is almost always well-received."

"That’s the thing." He was still looking at me in that peculiar way, and I wanted to know why. "I have a feeling this isn’t just going to be a question of money."

"So you have to rely solely on your powers of persuasion, with someone who doesn’t want to be persuaded? That’s a tough one." I ran my tongue along my lips to moisten them slightly, trying not to let my eyes wander down his partially-unbuttoned shirt. He wore expensive tailored clothes like they annoyed him, hanging off of his body as if he weren’t meant to be wearing anything at all.

Get a grip, Jenna.

I spoke again: "Why not just be yourself?"

He smirked. "Do you really think that’s good advice for me?"

"No, not at all." Our eyes were meeting, we were both smiling, and damn if it didn’t feel good. The same warmth in my chest that I would’ve felt looking at someone I actually liked. "I just wanted to see if you’d admit it."

"Tell me, Jenna, are you this brutally honest with everybody, or do I just get the special treatment?" Now he was leaning on my cart, pushing his body closer into my personal space. Trying to regain dominance over the situation. He wasn’t comfortable any other way, and that irked me.

"A little bit of Column A, a little bit of Column B," I told him. "You just really bring out the bitch in me, what can I say?"

"Aw, I think that’s the nicest thing a woman’s ever said to me." He reached into my cart, plucking out a six-pack of ramen noodles. "You know, these are cheaper if you buy them individually. They’re just trying to screw you over. Worse than Big Pharma, even." He winked, and dropped the package back in my cart.

"How the hell do you even know that?" I demanded, feeling more annoyed than I probably should have.

"What, a billionaire’s not allowed to check price tags?" He shoved his hands in his pockets, stepping away from me. "Or you mean the thing about Big Pharma? Because everybody knows they’re out to get us. That’s just common sense. Chase Industries’ logo is eerily similar to the Federal Reserve – you really think that’s a coincidence?"

I was giggling helplessly. "It’s amazing how many conspiracies are predicated on logo designs, right? You’d think some of these sinister organizations would have just hired a new graphic designer at some point to cover their tracks."

"Hey, I’ll bring that up at the next board meeting. Thanks." He gave me the thanks, babe finger-gun gesture, clicked his tongue, and walked away. I was left shaking my head, and wondering why the hell I couldn’t stop smiling.

***

The more I thought about it, the more I wondered if I was just being too harsh on Ben. I’d made all kinds of assumptions about him based on his wealth, his job, and one bad encounter in the grocery store. Obviously, he had a sense of humor about himself and his job, and he was more down-to-earth than I’d imagined.

Maybe I should give him a chance. After all, I was alone in a new city, and so far most of my social interaction was dominated by a two-year-old girl. Some variety would be nice. I doubted it would be anything long-term, but where was the harm in a few dates?

After a lot of nervous pacing and practice conversations in my barren apartment, I made my decision. The next time we serendipitously just "ran into" each other, I’d mention what Daniel said to me. It seemed like a natural enough opening, and if I managed to sound low-key and flirty enough about it, maybe it wouldn’t be terribly awkward.

I tested out a few options – so, your friend told me you were asking about me. No, that sounded weird, like I was trying to suppress Daniel’s identity in order to protect the innocent. So, Daniel mentioned you were asking about me. That was better – maybe. Or should I be more direct? To answer your question, no, I don’t have a boyfriend.

Should I say yet? Or was that coming on too strong?

This didn’t used to be so hard. When did Maddy and I switch roles? At what point did I lose my ability to speak to the opposite sex?

I was just out of practice, that was all. I needed to get back in the saddle. And this was the perfect opportunity.

Once I’d made the decision, I threw myself back into my search for acting work. There were way, way too many auditions that were completely out of my wheelhouse, but I was able to find a few that might fit, and a few more open calls I could visit to stay busy for the rest of the week. Whenever I wasn’t taking care of Laura, I’d be pounding the pavement.

***

The first open call was about as depressing as they come.

I ended up sitting in a tiny plastic chair, wedged between two other hopefuls that I could only pray were auditioning for different roles. One of them was a dead ringer for CCH Pounder, so much so that I did a double-take – and the other was a man in his thirties, dressed in a shirt and tie with his sleeves rolled up to reveal full sleeve tattoos that would inspire hatred in the soul of any makeup artist.

He sighed audibly, and I considered telling him that he should roll his sleeves down and cover up the body art. But then I realized I had no idea what the hell he was going for – maybe he was supposed to play a motorcycle gang leader or something.

After a whole afternoon of waiting, I never even got my chance to read. They had a much bigger turnout than they anticipated, and more than half of us were turned away, filtering out into the streets in a cloud of rejection.

I’d actually been ready, too. Primed for a performance. I’d spent so much time and energy getting myself pumped for the experience, and now I was completely deflated. It was a terrible feeling, and I wandered towards my bus stop with my stomach in knots.

The grocery store, and its array of comforting junk food, beckoned. I hesitated and weighed my options. I could always go to the overpriced convenience store that was closer to home, where I probably wouldn’t run into Ben. But they didn’t have half of what I wanted. If I shopped here, there was a chance I’d run into him, even though I hadn’t seen him in almost a week. I was in no mood to try and seduce a billionaire.