Page 71 of Fame And Secrets
Chapter Twenty-Five
Julian
My head felt heavy, my eyes burned, and my stomach growled. When had we last eaten? For that matter, when had we slept? I rubbed my unshaven face for the hundredth time and hated my job.
My dream job—the one I’d struggled to achieve—had become my entrapment.
Thankfully, no one had recognized me. If they did, they had the decency to leave me alone and not ask for anything. After a fifteen-minute tirade from me about leaving his phone in the limo in Seattle, Zane had wandered to the Portland VIP bar, leaving me at their mercy.
Pulling my hat down lower, the whispers of a mother and daughter behind me interrupted my thoughts. It was just a matter of time before one of them got the balls to come over to ask for something. I held my dead phone in my hand, still disgusted at its lack of functionality.
“Stupid piece of shit phone.” About to shove it back into my pocket, a voice from beside me distracted my jumbled thoughts. The person cleared their throat, and I closed my eyes, waiting for either the mother or daughter. Instead, a deep tone startled me.
“Yeah, I hear that. I have a T6 too. The damn thing gives me an error message every half hour. Don’t think I haven’t contemplated accidentally dropping it in a toilet somewhere.”
I looked up from my slouched position. An older man sat beside me, his hair graying and in a crisp black business suit complete with a red power tie. He appeared polished, and by the way he looked at me, I had my doubts he recognized me.
“No kidding,” I huffed. “My battery died, and I left in such a hurry, I forgot my phone charger. Apparently, no airport in America sells compatible T6 accessories.”
“From the look on your face, you needed it bad, huh?”
Pursing my lips, I nodded as I flipped the phone in my hands. “My wife’s in labor. I’ve tried all day to get there, but the damn flight keeps getting delayed.”
The man’s face softened with sympathy. “That’s horrible. Well, there you go. Murphy’s Law strikes again. I remember when my daughter was born; I think I drove a hundred miles per hour down the freeway. It seems like yesterday, but it was seventeen years ago. Been married long?”
I shook my head. “A few days.” I didn’t know why I felt the need to explain myself to a perfect stranger. “It obviously wasn’t a planned pregnancy.”
“Well, that doesn’t mean anything, son. Sometimes unexpected gifts are the ones that mean the most.” With a small pause, he extended his hand. “I’m Chris Alexander.”
Turning my eyes back to him, I finally shrugged and shook his hand. “Julian.”
“Well, Julian-with-no-last-name, it’s nice to meet you.”
I laughed despite of myself. “Are you on your way to see your family?”
“It’s my daughter Catherine’s birthday. I’ve been on business in Portland. I tried to get home last night, but, well…you know.” With exaggerated hand movements, he gestured around us.
“Yeah, too well.”
After a momentary break in conversation, the man glanced at his pocket, reached in, and pulled out his phone. Within seconds, he’d disassembled the back and removed his battery. He held it out across the armrest of our adjoined seat.
“Julian, my battery is fully charged. I’ve talked to Catie, and all is fine with my family. Why don’t you switch with me and talk to yours?”
My heart stopped as I looked down at the rectangular battery in his hand. As much I itched to take it, my conscience wouldn’t allow it.
“No, I couldn’t ask you to do that.”
“You didn’t ask me. I asked you.” Chris shoved the battery closer to me. “Now, please, take it so I can tell Catie I saved the day for her favorite singer. I could use a few cool points with her these days.”
I dropped my chin and smiled. “So you do know.”
He lifted both eyebrows. “Of course I know. Your picture is plastered all over Catie’s walls. I know your face better than my own son’s.”
A chuckle rumbled from my chest. “Look, Chris, it’d mean a lot to me if you didn’t…”
Chris held up a hand and shook his head. “Don’t worry, Julian. You were stuck with me in PAX, nothing more. I did my good deed and sent you off to parts unknown.”
“Thank you. I like to keep my wife’s privacy as much as I can.”