Chance (The One More Night Series) (18 page)

BOOK: Chance (The One More Night Series)
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“I’m not dressed,” Brooke said.  “Don’t you dare let him in.”

“It’s him.  I swear to God it is.”

“How did he get inside?”

“Somebody must have left the building, and he stepped in after them.  Or who knows when it comes to this shithole of a building?  The damned door might have been left ajar.  The lock could be broken.  Hurry!”

“I can hear you beyond the door,” Chance said in a voice that was just loud and deep enough for me to hear.  “And you’re right—I waited for someone to leave before I let myself inside.  It was forty-five minutes before that happened.  So, you know, I hope you’ll let me in.  For perseverance.”

“Sweet Jesus, what the hell?” Elle said.

“What do I do?”

“You let me in,” he said.

“Can he hear everything?” Brooke asked.  “Can he hear me fastening my bra?”

“Not quite,” he answered. 

“Did you hear that?”

“He has flowers,” I said in a lower voice.

“And they need water,” he countered.

“He really can hear everything.”

“Pretty much.”

“I’m dressed,” Elle said when she popped out of her room.

“Same here,” Brooke said.

“So, you know, open the door,” Elle said.  “Let just do this shit.”

I took a breath before gathering up the nerve to open the door, but for whatever reason, when I did open it and saw Chance leaning against the jam looking so happy to see me, my nerves faded away.

 

 

*  *  *

 

 

“May I come in?” he asked.

I still couldn’t believe that he was here—he should be at the airport by now.  “You’re in a suit,” I said.  “And you should be on your way to the airport.  You’re supposed to leave for L.A. soon.”

“I’m not going to L.A.  Or to London.  Or to Paris.  I’ve cancelled everything until we can sort this out between us.  Because it needs to be sorted out, don’t you think?  I sure as hell do.  The flowers are for you.  So is the suit.  I wanted to look proper for this visit because you deserve it, and I knew that I’d be meeting your girlfriends.  And by the way, Abby, you look beautiful.  You weren’t wearing that when you left earlier.  Are you going somewhere?  If I’m interrupting—”

“She was going to meet you,” Brooke blurted.  “All of us were.  Well not all of us—Elle and I were just going for moral support.  You know, we were going to try to console her and coach her in the cab.  Abby was going to take over and find you once we arrived at LaGuardia.  She was going to seek you out.  Somehow.  None of us really knew how.  We’ve just been riffing on this since Abby told us what happened between the two of you last night.  And this morning.  Especially this morning.  She pretty much—”

“Would you just shut up?” Elle said.  “Do you always have to ramble?”

“I’m sorry.  I can’t help myself.  You know how I get when I’m freaked out.”

“Check it for once.”

“You were coming to meet me at the airport?” Chance asked me.

I shrugged at him.  “That was the plan.”

“Why?”

“Thanks to Brooke, I think you have a fairly good idea why.” 

“You’ve reconsidered?”

I stepped aside.  “Why don’t you come inside so we can talk?”

Given the expression on his face, it was clear that he hadn’t expected anything like this, so he didn’t answer me at first.  When he did come inside, he took me in his arms and kissed me so deeply that it took not only my breath away, but, considering Brooke and Elle’s gasps, it seemed to take theirs as well.

 

 

*  *  *

 

 

When our lips parted, he searched my eyes with his, and placed the palm of his hand against my cheek before gently kissing me again.

“God, he’s hot,” Brooke said.

At that point, all I could do was shake my head at him.  When he came into the apartment, there seemed to be no room for him—the ceilings were too low, his shoulders were too broad.  He practically filled the doorway.  He handed me the bouquet of roses, which I pressed to my nose before Elle took them from me. 

“I’ll put these in a vase,” she said.  “Then Brooke and I will leave you two alone so you can talk.”

“Where are we going looking like this?” Brooke asked.

“Starbucks,” Elle said through gritted teeth.  “Just like we did yesterday.”

“You’re so uptight, Elle—I was just asking.  But, yeah, Starbucks works for me.  And by the way,” she said, giving Chance a once over, “you’re really tall.”

“I’m a farm boy who happened to like his vegetables,” he said as he extended his hand to her.  “I’m Chance.”

“Who else could you be?”

“You are?”

“Brooke.  Elle is the control freak taking care of the roses.  Why can’t I look away from you?  What’s this weird hypnotic thing you’ve got going on?  Why do I have stars in my eyes right now?”

I placed my hand against her back.  “Perhaps because your blood sugar is too low,” I said.  “You haven’t had breakfast yet.  And you didn’t get enough sleep.”

“I seriously doubt that’s the reason.  I think it’s because Chance here is one fine—”

“Brooke!”

“Anyway,” Elle said as she came back to the entryway.  “We’ll be at Starbucks.”  She introduced herself to Chance, and they shook hands.  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Chance.”

“The pleasure is mine, Elle.  And I’m sorry if you feel the need to rush out.  You can stay—Abby’s best friends should hear what I have to say to her.”

“Then we are so staying for this,” Brooke said.

“No, we aren’t,” Elle said.  “We’ll be at Starbucks people watching.  It’s what we do.  Now, let’s give them their privacy.”  She looked at me.  “Just call us when you’d like us to come back home.  We’ll have our phones with us.  No hurry—OK?”

“Thank you, Elle,” I said.

As they stepped past Chance and me, I caught the look on Elle’s face.  She was as taken by his presence as Brooke was, only she was sharp enough not to show it as easily.  She remained cool, but I knew by the way her lips parted when she brushed past him that she found him as attractive a I did. 

“See you,” she said.  When she opened the door, she took Brooke by the hand, and led her into the hall.  I closed it behind them, and Chance and I were somehow alone again.

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER TWENTY

 

For a moment, we stood in an awkward silence before either of us spoke. 

“I’m surprised that you’re here,” I said.

“I’m surprised that you were going to the airport.”

“I was going there for a reason.”

“Just as I came here for a reason.  Funny how that happened, huh?”

I didn’t answer.  I was so anxious and I was trying to keep myself calm, but it wasn’t working out so well. 

“Maybe we should sit down and discuss those reasons?” he said.

“I’m embarrassed to show you our apartment.”

“Abby, I don’t care about what you have or don’t have.  And I have a pretty strong idea that you feel the same way about me.  I’m here to see you.  I came here to talk with you.  To fight for you if that’s what it takes.  So, where can we sit?”

“In furniture we bought at a second-hand shop.”

He rolled his eyes at me, but then he smiled.  “At the very least, I was hoping for something third-hand.  That shit is usually pretty comfortable, unless a spring bites you in the ass.”

I smiled at that.  “At the very least, I can promise you that it’s clean.”

“That’s the least of my worries.”

He reached for my hand, squeezed it in his own, and I led him into the living room, where the air conditioner was rattling to such a degree that it was shaking the window casing as it leached whatever cool air it could spurt into the room.

“Sorry about that,” I said.  “It tries its best to keep things cool, but mostly it’s there to remind us what failure looks like.  If you’re too warm, I can take your jacket.”

“I’m fine.  Let’s sit.”

“Would you like something to drink?” I asked.

“I came here to talk, but thank you,” he said.  “I’m fine.” 

When I sat down on the couch, he took one of the chairs opposite me, likely because that’s what we’d always done.  Whenever we had a conversation—whenever things got real between us—I’d always kept him at arm’s length because—for whatever reason—it had seemed safer to me.  He was respecting that, but it also needed to end now.

“Why don’t you sit next to me?” I asked.

“Are you sure?”

“I think I’d prefer it that way.”

With that, he raised his eyebrows, got up, and sat next to me.

“Chance, I’m sorry about this morning.”

“You have nothing to be sorry about.”

“I’m afraid that I do.  You were right—I got scared.  I became irrational.  I think I was hearing only how things could go wrong, rather than how things might go right.  Instinct told me to leave, so I did.  I apologize for that.  I should have stayed and listened to you.”

“And I shouldn’t have given in so easily.  Look, Abby, I came here to tell you that I’m crazy about you, OK?  Do I understand how that happened so quickly?  No.  Can I put my finger on it?  I can’t.  Should I give a damn if I don’t understand why I feel the way I do?  I shouldn’t.  All I know is that I couldn’t leave today without giving this my best shot.  Otherwise, I knew that I’d only regret it later.  So I cancelled everything.”

“I’m not going to lie—I’m glad that you did.  And I’m glad that you thought enough of me to come here.  After the way I behaved, that couldn’t have been easy.”

“That’s the thing—it
was
easy.  I told you that I’ve never felt this kind of connection since Beth.  I think where we differ is that I try not to overthink things.  I’ve always gone with my gut—I rely on it.  But maybe you don’t.  I think that’s where things became muddled between us this morning.  I might have come on too strong, and that could have been a trigger for you.  I think the whole idea that I feel something for you might have frightened you.”

“That’s part of it, but not all of it.  What I couldn’t face is that I felt the same way.  That frightened me more because those feelings I couldn’t control.  With Mark and with Brian, it took time for me to feel the kind of spark that I feel between us.  This has happened so quickly, I got cold feet and ran.  I shouldn’t have done that.  I regret having done that.  That’s why I was going to meet you at the airport.  To tell you that I’d made a mistake.  To say that maybe there’s some way we can give this a shot.”

He put his hand on my leg, and when he did, I could feel the heat of his palm against my thigh.  “When you left, I thought about what you said.  That you didn’t do long-distance anything.  And why should you?  That’s the situation you were facing.  But if you’re willing to give this a chance, I’m willing to move to Manhattan and cut back on my travels.”  He paused for a moment, and from the indecisive look on his face, I could tell that he was weighing the options of telling me something he shared with no one.  “Do you want to know why I travel so much, Abby?”

“I assume it’s because you’re busy.”

“It’s because it serves as a perfect distraction.”

“From what?”

“From my personal life.  The more I travel, the more people I meet.  The more people I meet, the more deals I can strike.  And onward until I have more stuff to attach myself to, and to manage.  I do it all in an effort to dilute the fact that I don’t have anyone in my life.  That I’m alone.  I won’t settle for just anyone, so I work.  I live out of hotels.  I go to these big business dinners—or charitable events such as the one where I met you—and I fool myself into thinking that I have some sort of a social life.  But I don’t really.  And then everything shifted when I met you.  When I felt that spark again after all these years, I knew what it meant, so I went after it.  I hope you felt it, too.  Maybe not at first, but I think you have.”

“I have.”

“Look, Abby, I don’t have to travel to run my company.  I travel because of all the reasons I just listed.  Finding someone in-house to take my place on these trips isn’t an issue—I’ll just choose one of my chief executives to assume those duties.  One of the men I have in mind is more than capable.  So is one of the women.  So, if you’re willing, I’d like to explore this, and see where it takes us.  The question is whether this is something you want.  Do you think we can work this out together?”

“You’d move here?” I asked.

“We can go apartment shopping this week if you’d like.  Or next week.  I’m officially on vacation for the next two weeks.  No work.  Just you.”

“Your business is based in Chicago, Chance.  How will you run it from here?”

“I pay people to run it for me, Abby.  And businesses can always be moved.  They also can be sold.  In the meantime, there’s technology, which is pretty much how I run my business anyway since I’m on the road so often.  It’s not an issue.  So, what do you say?  Do we give this a shot?”

For once, everything he’d said seemed viable to me, and I didn’t hesitate.  “Yes,” I said.  “We give this a shot.”

When I said that, his smile was so bright, it lit up the whole room, moving me to the point that it brightened my heart.

With ease, he lifted me onto his lap, wrapped his arms around my waist, and kissed me with such feeling, I knew that the decision was right.  Without holding back, I returned his kiss with every bit of pent-up passion I had within me.  I was finished holding myself back—on all levels.  I wanted to take risks in my life like my Aunt Marion had in hers.  I loved my mother, but I didn’t want to become my mother, despite how disappointed she’d be with me.  I wanted a life filled with adventure, and here it was before me.  Kissing me.  Holding me.  What I recognized for a second time is that the more he held me and the deeper he kissed me, the more I felt the safety and security I also wanted. 

Somehow, Chance was capable of offering me the balance I craved.

When he pulled away from me, he said, “You’ve just made me very happy, Abby.”

I kissed him gently on his lips.  “I feel the same.”

“How long before the girls come home?” he asked.

“Whenever I call them.”

“Where is your bedroom?”

BOOK: Chance (The One More Night Series)
5.15Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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