Free Without Chase by Jo Frances

assistant, Rafi, to hurry up. “Did you just drink a lot of coffee?” he asked as Jamie ran into the dressing room to try on the umpteenth outfit that day.
    She poked her head through the flimsy curtain separating them. “Why? What am I doing?” she asked innocently.
    “Umm, you’re, liked, amped! I’d ask if you were on blow, but I know that’s not your thing.” He gestured for her to come towards him and Jamie stepped into the five-inch shoes a kneeling Rafi was ready to strap her into.
    Another model, Irina, was nearby getting her makeup done and perked up at their conversation. She waved to get their attention. “Do you guys have some for me?”
    Without looking up, Rafi answered loudly, “No, Irina. No one’s got any blow for you.” At this, a disappointed Irina went back to playing a game on her phone. Then he whispered under his breath, “no one’s got shit for you, you coke whore.”
    Rafi looked up at Jamie and shook his head. “Sad.” He proclaimed. “She has the kind of body that will gain weight if you so much as walk past her with a pastry, so she’s on, ahem , appetite suppressants. But they’re affecting her ability to work.” He finished with the shoes and stood up. “She’ll be out of the business because of her weight or her drugs within the year.”
    Later, in the car from the airport, she found herself recounting the story to Adam. “I can’t believe what some girls will do to lose weight… but anyway, that’s not why I thought I would miss my flight. It’s just that fashion people are visual perfectionists, you know? They’re terrible about being on time, or details like giving you the right address, but if something in a shot is even so much as a millimeter off, we have to do it over again.” She stopped and looked over to see Adam smiling at her. “Am I rambling?” she asked worriedly.
    “No.” He put his arm around her and pulled her close. “I’m glad you didn’t miss your flight. I mean, I would have waited until you got the next one, but… it’s good you’re here.” This was the first time they had done anything beyond the friendly hug hello and goodbye from the barbeque. He had finally told her why he was in DC---to pack up some of his things for his move to LA.
    “Well, thanks for inviting me.” Jamie saw a boat on the river next to them, the rowers keeping pace with the traffic locked cars. She watched the rowers, their college logo stamped on their shirts and wished she could go back to the days when Friday nights meant hanging out with Chase in her dorm room.
    Adam followed her gaze. “Do you miss school?” he asked.
    “Yes.” It was true, but only half of what she was missing.
    Jamie shook herself back to reality, and scrambled to hide her thoughts. “Sometimes. I mean, everyone in my family graduated from college. I feel like I went backwards.” This was true enough.
    They approached his house, a narrow, historic townhome in Georgetown. “This is beautiful Adam,” Jamie said, impressed. “How old are you again?”
    “I’m actually a middle aged man going through a mid life crisis,” he winked, and took her hand. “Still interested?”
    They walked in and Jamie couldn’t help but gasp at the interior. She had been inside bigger, or more expensive, or more lavishly decorated homes, but Adam’s house was breathtaking in its authenticity. The dark wood paneling, the rich green of the study; even the framed display of a battered and clearly antique American flag was on pitch.
    “Is this… is this yours? I mean, do you own it?” Jamie knew her mother would die at her asking such a vulgar question, but she couldn’t help it.
    “It’s all mine. Believe it or not, this is what I bought with the money I inherited from my grandparents.” Jamie knew the Bixby family was one of the oldest and richest families in North Carolina. “It’s going to sound strange, but the first time my mom won her Senate seat, we came up to Georgetown to go