Marshall gently places his hand on her lower back as she climbs the final step onto the plane, he nearly bowls her over when she stops suddenly in front of him.
"Shit Chloe you right?" he asks collecting himself.
"Are you freakin kidding me? This is a private jet!" her voice has the excitement of a child's as she takes in her surroundings, the immediate room is a generous open space with plush booth couches along one side and recliners on the other. On a table next to the booth couches is a bowl of fruit (some she is sure she hasn't even seen before), a cheese plate and a bottle of champagne sitting in the middle of the table. She smirks for a second recognizing that she doesn't take the term champagne lightly, another pompous thing she can thank Gayle for, this isn't the house sparkling you get at your local, this is definitely the real stuff. There are three doors that she can see of a corridor at the end of the room, and a stunningly stylish flight attendant walks out of one.
"Mr Mathers, Ms Taylor welcome aboard." The fact that the flight attendant uses her maiden name does not go unnoticed.
"Thanks Larissa" Marshall's tone is friendly and makes Chloe wonder for a half second if he has fucked this chick, as if somehow it matters.
"We should be aiight this trip you can just chill in your cabin" the most polite dismiss she has seen, yeah he probably fucked her.
The Amazonian goddess smiles and nods, walking back through the door she has just opened.
"So you fucked her" Chloe's tone is blunt but cheeky.
Marshall hesitates and Chloe laughs, almost hysterically her emotions bursting out in inappropriate ways, the downside of growing up in an almost WASP repressive house hold.
Marshall breaks out into a grin, "Yeah ok."
"Well I am certainly not interested in a threesome" Chloe jokes walking over to the booth and sitting down, she reaches for the champagne and studies the label before expertly popping the cork, Gayle would be envious of this bottle. "Although maybe check with me after a few of these" she pours a glass and pushes it across the table towards him before pouring herself one. The first sip is magic, the bubbles zinging along her tongue and down her throat. The doors are closed and the plane begins taxiing. It starts to hit her that this was real, there isn't any panic just uncertainty, she hadn't exactly thought every aspect of this through, she knew she wanted to be with Marshall but that was as far as her planning had gone. Her thoughts are interrupted by the buzzing of Marshall's phone
He pulls it out of his pocket, briefly checking the number before answering it "Yo D"
Chloe takes another sip of her champagne, the second glass already going to her head.
"He wasn't disabled" Marshall's demeanor has changed, although she cant hear what Deshaun is saying she gets a pretty good idea from Marshall's side
""Well yeah he is in a wheelchair but..."
Chloe can now here Deshaun's voice loud and indistinct
"Woah...no he is in a wheelchair coz he has broken legs, its not like he is permanently disabled. Fuck"
Her mind is officially of the bubbles, what is Deshaun talking about?
"Thanks dogg, appreciate it" Marshall pauses then "Yeah fuck you too" he returns his phone to his pocket.
He starts hunting around the cabin of the aircraft, looking for a remote. Finally he spies it and turns the TV on, flicking through for MTV
"Our breaking story; is Eminem up to his old tricks?" the syrupy voice of the presenter fills the space
"Assaulting a man in a wheelchair all because the poor guy found out the rapper was having an affair with his wife. Guess the prolific bad boy can't escape trouble after all. It was only...." Marshall switches it off before they can continue.
"FUCK!" he throws the remote square at the TV, embedding it into the middle of the screen.
Chloe stops mid sip, surely not, Chris would not have gone to the media.
"OK, so I kind of wanted to see where that was going" she says softly
Marshall turns to look at her, confused, "Where it was going?" he repeats
"Yeah" the champagne only adds to the events of the day and she is riled. "Where it was going, did Chris go to the media or did someone at the pub?"
"And that matters?" his tone still matching hers
"Well yeah, you didn't see him Marshall he is pissed, he said he was going to destroy me, destroy you"
"What the fuck is he gon do Chloe? Talk shit about me to the media, just watch the sales rise, my fans love controversy and people love me being the asshole...in fact I'm pretty sure I wrote a song about it"
"It's not necessarily about you Marshall, its about me" she pauses "And what about your girls?"
"So it's sort of about me" he has lowered his voice and the playful tone has come back into play. "Don't worry about my girls Chlo, Kim and I don't let them watch that kind of shit"
"Look you do get credit as you play a key part" she jokes "But I am serious Marshall, if he is saying shit I need to know"
This thought makes her remember that once she left the house she had turned her mobile off. Pulling it out of her bag it slips through her fingers, to much champagne. The phone sounds when she finally has the grip and turns it on, then it dings, dings again and continues to sound off, fuck. Marshall stops his pacing and grabs his glass. Dozens of missed calls, mostly from her mother, a few from a private number. Shit.
YOU ARE READING
Ghosts of the Past
ParanormalMarshall was Chloe's first everything; boyfriend, kiss, love. They met whilst at school when Chloe had moved to Detroit with her mum from Australia, although only together for two years before returning back to Aus it was meant to be them against th...
