Falling for You (23 page)

By mid-day, Chance was beginning to think the hardest part of breaking up with Paige was going to be finding her. He’d called her parents’ house twice, but Mrs. Baxter didn’t have a clue where her daughter had gone. He tried Paige’s mobile phone, but she was either out of the service area or didn’t have it turned on. By late afternoon, desperation had set in. He tried her friend Stacy, to see if the two of them were out shopping for bridesmaids’ dresses.

Stacy didn’t know where Paige was, but she did fill Chance in on all the wedding plans and how thrilled she was that Paige would be her maid of honor. He nearly groaned when she said she couldn’t wait to return the favor—someday soon, she hoped.

After hanging up, he took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. Standing before a firing squad appealed to him more than humiliating Paige in front of their friends, but he didn’t see any way around it.

As a last-ditch effort, he took off work early and drove out to the country club since Paige occasionally docked in one of their day slips when she went boating. As he pulled into the parking lot, a pickup truck was pulling out—and he swore the man driving looked like Captain Bob. He dismissed his curiosity, though, since he had far more important things on his mind.

Dread dogged his heels as he walked through the breezeway between the office and the pro shop toward the docks. Why couldn’t he have realized years ago that what he felt for Paige wasn’t love? Why had he let himself get backed into this corner where the only way out was to hurt a lifelong friend?

He spotted the Baxters’ boat instantly, thirty-two feet of sheer luxury. Paige was lounging in the cockpit, her back against the cabin. She wore a black one-piece that accentuated her slight curves. Her eyes were closed behind sunglasses, and a dreamy smile softened her pink lips. He wondered about her sublime expression until he noticed the romance novel resting at her side.

Paige
, he thought with a pang of fondness, always dreaming of romantic adventure, of being swept off her feet by some dashing hero. He wondered suddenly what she’d ever seen in him, a tall skinny banker. Most people probably saw him as straitlaced. Except Aurora. When she looked at him, he felt like the most dashing hero who had ever lived.

“Chance?” Paige woke looking sleepy and confused. “What are you doing here? Is it after five already?”

“No, I took off work early.” He thrust his hands in his pockets while she reached for a swimsuit cover-up. Stalling for time, he nodded toward the clubhouse. “You know, I thought I saw Captain Bob leaving just now.”

“Captain Bob? Oh, yes,” she said. “He came by to catch me up on the progress with the
Pirate’s Pleasure
.”

“Progress? Is there a problem?”

“Nothing to be alarmed about,” she assured him. “The ship needs some minor repairs before it can leave dock. Since tourist season has slacked off some, Bobby’s decided to go down to Corpus to help out.”

“Do the St. Claires know about this?” A problem with the ship would have a serious impact on the ball.

“Yes, I filled Allison in yesterday when we were shopping.” She smiled up at him, the sunlight bright on her hair. “I can’t wait to show you everything we found. We really hit the jackpot. Do you want to head over to the inn now so you can see?”

“Uh, no.” The weight of dread grew as heavy as the humidity. A trickle of sweat snaked down his back even though he’d removed his jacket and tie. “I came early so we could talk. Can I come aboard?”

“Of course.” A slight frown dimpled her brow. “Come on into the cabin, I’ll get you something cold to drink.”

He followed her down the steep steps into the plush interior done in beige, black, and white. She headed for the chrome and teakwood galley with smoky glass cabinet doors.

“Do you want a soft drink, or something stronger?”

“I’ll take a whiskey, if you have it.” He could use something to settle his nerves. Rolling up his sleeves, he sat on the U-shaped sofa in the bow and waited for her to join him. A half-eaten wedge of brie cheese, some crackers, and the leafy remains of strawberries littered a serving tray on the coffee table. An empty bottle of Pouilly Fuissé had been thrust neck first into an ice bucket.

“Are you hungry?” She nodded toward the leftovers as she handed him his drink.

“No. Just curious.” He wondered what all had gone on during Captain Bob’s visit. Although the fact that he felt more protective than jealous confirmed that he’d made the right decision. “Looks like you were having a party.”
Or an illicit rendezvous.

“Don’t be silly.” She sipped ice water from a cut-crystal glass. “Bobby and I just got to talking about ships and sailing, so I pulled a few things out of the fridge.”

He studied her face, but saw no sign of guile or guilt. Besides, the image of Paige and Captain Bob having an affair refused to gel in his mind. She’d be drawn to someone cultured and debonair, not a man who wore wrinkled shirts open to the navel to expose a hairy chest. And Captain Bob might have shown signs of interest in Paige, but the man wasn’t stupid. He had to know Paige Baxter outclassed him in every way imaginable.

“So,” she asked, tucking her legs up beside her on the cushion. “What did you want to talk about?”

His stomach tightened. God, if only he could turn the clock ahead and have this be over. “Paige, I...” He leaned forward, bracing his forearms on his knees and stared at the coffee table rather than her. If he looked at her, he’d never get the words out. “I want to tell you how much your friendship has meant to me over the years. Still means to me. I don’t want anything to take away from that. We’ve known each other forever, and I hope you’ll continue to... value the times we’ve shared, because I know I will.”

“Of course I will.” Her voice wavered between confusion and amusement.

“Paige...” He forced himself to look up, to meet her gaze. “I don’t want to hurt you. Please believe that.”

She looked back at him a moment before understanding dawned in her eyes. “Oh, my God.” She nearly dropped her glass of ice water as she set it on the coffee table. “Are you breaking up with me?”

Regret tore at his heart. “I’m sorry, Paige. I’m so sorry.”

He started to reach for her, but she stood and scrambled backward, staring at him in horror. “Chance, you can’t. My parents will die. You can’t do this to me. To them. You just can’t!”

Her
parents
would die? What about her? He shook his head. “I’m sorry, Paige. I care for you a great deal, so I thought we’d make a perfect match. But I’ve come to realize caring and friendship aren’t enough. The thing is”—he took a deep breath—“I’m not in love with you.”

“But
why
? What did I do wrong?” She dropped to her knees at his feet as tears welled in her eyes. “Just tell me. I’ll change.”

Startled, he sat back. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I just... I don’t love you the way a man should love the woman he marries. It would be cruder for me to marry you now that I’ve realized that.” He took her hands and squeezed them. “You deserve someone who will love you, Paige.”

“Daddy’s going to kill me.” She dropped her forehead to their joined hands. “And my mom! She’ll die. She’ll just die!”

He stared at the top of her head, stunned by her reaction. He’d expected tears and hurt, but not this. “What about you, Paige? Doesn’t this affect you?”

“Of course it does.” Her head came up, her eyes pleading. “Chance, please don’t do this. It’s going to hurt so many people. Not just my parents, but yours, too.”

“Paige...” He struggled for the right words. “Doesn’t this hurt
you
? “ She started to answer, but he stopped her. “No, let me rephrase that. Sit up here and let me ask you something.” He helped her back onto the sofa. “Paige, do you love me?”

Her whole face softened. “Of course I love you. I’ve always loved you.”

“As a lover? Or as a friend?”

She opened her mouth to answer, but no words came.

“It’s okay,” he assured her. “I won’t take offense because I feel the same way. I do love you. I think I have since we were kids. But I’m not ‘in love’ with you, if that makes sense.”

She nodded, looking miserable.

“As for our parents, I’ll take full blame and let them know the whole misunderstanding was my fault. I led you to believe we’d get married, and I’m the one breaking things off. Unless you’d rather tell them you broke things off with me?”

“No!” She looked horrified at the thought. “Then Daddy really would kill me. He’d want to know what was wrong with me, and badger me to get back together with you.”

“All right then, we’ll tell them the truth. That we like each other a lot, but not enough to get married.”

“But you don’t understand what this means to them!” She buried her face in her hands. “How could you when your family has everything?”

“That’s ridiculous.” He frowned at her. “There’s very little difference in our families’ net worth.”

“Net worth!” She snorted loudly, an unladylike sound that shocked him. “Life isn’t just about money. Can’t you understand there are things money can’t buy? Things that you can’t earn, or borrow, or even steal.” She glared at him through a sheen of tears. “No, of course not. You wouldn’t know about wanting those things because you’ve had all of them since birth.”

He sat back. “I don’t think I’m following you.”

“You have all the things my parents want. Daddy is rich, as rich as Midas, but the money is barely two generations old. His family was still considered New Money when they came to Galveston.”

“Maybe so, but he married Old Money when he married your mom.”

“This isn’t about money!”

“Okay,” he said slowly, wondering where sweet, gentle Paige had gone and who this passionate woman was. “Why don’t you explain it?”

“It’s about two hundred years of missing the boat,” she said angrily. “Neither side of my family immigrated to America before the Revolution. Neither Mom nor Dad have ancestors who fought for the South during the Civil War. Daddy’s family moved to Texas one year after Statehood. One year! And even though my mom was born on Galveston Island, her family didn’t move here until
after
the Nineteen Hundred Storm.”

“Oh.” Understanding came with a bitter taste. The Baxters wanted him for his pedigree. People he’d known all his life, who’d been like a second set of parents to him—and all they wanted was a damn pedigree!

“Don’t you see?” Paige pleaded.

“Actually, yes, I think I do.”

“No amount of money can buy one’s way into certain circles,” she continued unmercifully. “No matter how rich Daddy gets, he can’t be a member of Sons of the Republic or Sons of the Confederacy. No matter how active Mom is in the Heritage Society, she can never have a Daughters of the Revolution plaque on her grave, or be a member of First Families of Virginia like your mom. And nothing they do will ever allow them to swap stories about what their grandparents endured and lost during the Great Storm.”

Unable to bear it, he rose and moved away. “God, I’m sick of it! As proud as I am of who I am and what I come from, lately I’m sick of it.” He turned to face her. “What difference does it make? We are what we make of ourselves no matter what our ancestors did.”

“To Mom and Dad it makes a lot of difference. And it was the one thing I’d hoped to give them. I knew I wasn’t smart enough to be valedictorian or pretty enough to be homecoming queen, but if I married you, I could give them grandchildren who were Chancellors.”

His shoulders sagged. “Is that all I am to you? All I ever was?”

“No! Of course not.” She rushed to him and took his hands in hers. “You’re one of my closest friends. All my life, you were always there for me. And I’d promised myself I’d make you the best wife I could.”

“I don’t want a wife who is loyal out of obligation!” He jerked his hands away. Surprise flashed in her eyes, but he didn’t care. To think he’d worried about
him
hurting
her
. Christ! He turned to stare out a porthole. He wanted a wife who loved him for who he was. Someone who saw him as a man, not just another link in the Chancellor chain. A desirable man with more to offer than his brains and his brokerage account. He wanted Aurora—and the way she made him feel.

When he had his anger under control, he looked at Paige over his shoulder. “Tell me how you want to handle this. Do you tell your father, or do I?”

“I don’t know. I need time to think.” Her face lined with dread, then suddenly cleared. “Oh, no! The ball!”

“What?” He frowned.

“We can’t tell anyone before the ball.”

“Paige...” He closed his eyes in a bid for patience.

“No, hear me out. You know how Mom can be when she’s angry.”

The words “catty” and “petty” came to mind, but he kept them to himself. Marcy Baxter had her good points, but when she was mad she had the judgment of a spoiled teenager.

“When Mom finds out we’re breaking up she’s going to be furious. She’ll probably give me the silent treatment, but you...” Paige looked at him with pity. “Chance, she’ll want to get back at you. The fastest way to do that is to mess up the ball so your inn looks bad.”

“How can she do that?” He shrugged the objection away.