Falling for You (26 page)

She frowned at him. “Chance, what is it? Is something wrong?”

“I just need a second to think.”

“What do you mean?” She came toward him, concern lining her face as corkscrew curls of wet hair hung past her shoulders. “You look upset. What’s happened?”

He fell back against the door as a wave of weariness overtook him. “They fired my father.”

“What!” She drew up short. “They can’t do that.”

A bitter laugh escaped him. “Actually, they can. It was all quite civilized, of course. The chairmen of the board came down from the home office on the pretext of a routine visit. Then he called my father into the boardroom and politely requested he take early retirement.”

“Oh, Chance.” She stroked his arm. “How did he take it?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t even talked to him. We were called into the boardroom separately. My dad was leaving the bank just as I went in to hear the news.” He rubbed his forehead, trying to ease the sharp pain behind his eyes. “Aurora, I need to go.”

“Yes. Of course.” She stepped back, giving him room to open the door. He was halfway into the hall when he turned back to her. “We’ll talk about Marcy later, all right?”

“Fine. Just go.”

He nodded, and left. The drive to his parents’ house went by in a blur. He found his father in the game room. The room was dark, the draperies drawn. His father was standing at the wet bar, his hands braced on the counter, his head sagging forward. A highball glass with half-melted ice sat next to an open bottle of Crown Royal.

“Dad?”

His father drew in a deep breath as he straightened. “I guess they told you?”

“Yeah.” Chance closed his eyes, remembering the pity on Doris’s face as he’d left. The rumors were probably already spreading through the staff. As soon as Norman bowed to their “request,” an official announcement would be made, followed by a retirement party. People would wish Norman good luck to his face, then shake their heads and say “What a shame” behind his back.

“Forty-two years,” his father said, pulling a second highball glass down from the lighted shelf and filling it with ice. “Forty-two goddamn years, and they ask me to leave. As if they have the right!”

Chance hated the fact that they did have the right. His father had sold it to them.

“Do you know, I still remember the first day I walked into that bank as an employee rather than just the owner’s son.” He poured amber liquor into both glasses. “I was seventeen, getting my feet wet while I made some spending money for college. I worked as a teller the first few summers, then a loan officer.”

Chance managed a smile as he moved closer. “And Granddad worked you twice as hard as he did everyone else. The same way you worked me.”

His father nodded. “And I loved every minute of it. Saw it as my rite of passage.” Turning, he handed a drink to his son. “My trial by fire.”

“Same here.” Chance raised his glass in a salute.

As if he’d aged twenty years in the last hour, Norman moved to one of two leather chairs that bracketed a small table. He sat, staring across the room, his eyes lost. “Did they tell you who they plan to promote to fill my place?”

“Brian Jeffries.” Chance took a seat in the other chair and braced his forearms on his thighs.

“A goddamn outsider.” His father snorted. “That’ll go over well with the locals. If they were smart, they’d have offered the position to you.”

“They think I’m too young. Although they made it clear they want me to stay on. They plan to move me into Brian’s job as VP of loans as part of my grooming to be a president in the future.”

“Like you need grooming to run a bank you grew up in.” Norman took a deep drink. “So, what did you tell them?”

“Nothing yet.”

“Oh?”

“I’m not sure I want to stay at the bank under the circumstances.”

“Now don’t go throwing your career away because of this. I hate to say it, but they were right about one thing. I’m a stubborn, old-fashioned goat who’s too used to running the whole show. You’re younger, more adaptable, which makes you better suited for the job of a branch president than I ever was.”

“It’s more than what they did to you, although that’s enough to make me want to walk out.” He swished the Crown Royal around in his glass. “They want me to sever my partnership with the St. Claires.”

He waited for his father to say “I told you so.” When he said nothing, Chance looked up.

“What did you tell them?” his father asked.

Chance gave a scoffing laugh. “I’m tempted to tell them to fuck off.”

A slow smile rearranged the wrinkles on his father’s face, and Chance realized he’d had more than one drink in the short time he’d been home. “You know, at the moment, I think I’d like to see you do that.”

The smile faded as Norman rested his head back against the chair. “It’s odd. They say when you’re drowning, your whole life flashes before your eyes. Well, I guess I must be drowning, because ever since I stepped into that boardroom, bits of my life have been passing through my mind. Mostly all the things I gave up to follow in the Chancellor footsteps. I keep wondering what would have happened if I’d gone the other way.”

“The other way?” Chance asked.

“There was a time, the year after I graduated from UT, when the world seemed young and filled with possibilities.” He held his glass up to study the light as it glowed within the amber liquor. “Like most young men, I thought my parents were hopelessly ignorant and terminally boring. I, on the other hand, knew everything. Especially how it felt to fall in love. God”—he took a swallow, then let his head fall back, his eyes close—“what a summer. She was the most intoxicating creature I have ever known. I was so wild for her, I think I would have done anything to lay the world at her feet.”

“I didn’t realize it was like that for you and Mom.”

“Don’t be absurd. This was before I came to my senses, let her go, and married your mother.”

The words blindsided Chance, left him staring at his father in shock.

“It turned out to be for the best. For her as well as me.” Rising, Norman went back to the bar to refill his glass. “She’d started making noises about giving up her chance for a real career to stay in Galveston and be my wife. It was one of those foolish dreams we have when we’re young, filled with talk of children—raised in poverty, of course, since your grandfather was threatening to disown me.” He held the bottle out to Chance, but Chance shook his head.

“The problem was,” his father continued as he came back to his chair, “sacrifice didn’t become either one of us. We fought, I can’t even remember over what. Isn’t that odd? I remember how livid I was, and exactly how she looked while she was ordering me out of that tiny house she’d grown up in—she had a remarkable temper—but I can’t remember what we fought about.” He rubbed his forehead. “Well, no matter. That was all years ago. Although I find it incredibly ironic that you’ve become a business partner with her nephew and two nieces.”

The air left Chance’s lungs. “Vivian Young? You were in love with the Incomparable Vivian?”

“Still am, I suppose.”

“You son of a bitch,” Chance muttered so low, his father didn’t hear. Standing, he crossed to the window and pulled back the drapes enough to see outside. The rain had stopped, but water still clung to the glass, distorting the world beyond. “Are you telling me you don’t love Mom?”

His father took a long time to answer. “There are many kinds of love.”

He glanced over his shoulder and remembered the words his mother had spoken the day he and Paige had come for lunch. She’d told him no woman should have to settle for being the right choice. Far better to be the worst choice, but still the one that’s taken.

“You realize she knows, don’t you?” Chance said. “Mom knows she was your second choice.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” His father took another swallow of his drink. “I’ve never given your mother any reason to doubt my feelings for her.”

“I didn’t say she doubted them.” He dropped the curtain, plunging the room back into darkness. “I said she knows what those feelings are. And for reasons I’m having trouble understanding, she accepts that. I suspect because she does love you. More than I think you deserve at the moment.”

His father flinched. “You’re right. She doesn’t deserve a man who can’t even run his own bank.”

“I’m not talking about the bank! I’m talking about my mother, one of the most remarkable women I know. A woman who deserves better than what you did to her. Because, when you settled for your second choice, you condemned her to life with a man who could never love her the way she deserves to be loved. If you hadn’t married her, she’d have been free to find a man who would put her first. So, maybe instead of sitting here wallowing in self-pity, you should think about the ego blows Mom has endured over the years.”

The stunned look on his father’s face reminded him that he’d come here to console, not judge. Afraid of what he’d say next, he excused himself and left.

Chance felt as if the world as he knew it were falling apart as he drove from his parents’ house to his apartment. Everything he’d expected out of life, everything he’d assumed to be true, was changing and shifting.

For years, he’d thought he was in love with Paige, but what he felt for her was no more than brotherly affection. He’d expected to spend his life working at the bank, but in the last months the job had become hollow and meaningless to him. He’d assumed his parents had the perfect marriage, because they seemed so comfortable together, but was that comfort simply a lack of passion? An acceptance on both their parts for something less than what they really wanted?

Pulling into the parking lot of his apartment building, he looked for Aurora’s Jeep. He didn’t even realize he was looking until he didn’t find it. Had she gone back to the inn? Why wasn’t she here? He needed her here. It was as simple as that, he needed her.

He sat for a moment, debating what to do. He wanted to go find Aurora and bring her back. He wanted someone to talk to, someone to help him make sense of what was happening to his life, and what was happening to him. Some days he didn’t even feel like the same person he’d been three months ago.

Before he saw Aurora, though, he needed to change out of his suit and wait for his hands to stop shaking. He climbed out of the car, and started for the entrance to the building, but the thought of going inside to an empty apartment left him feeling edgy. On impulse, he turned, waited for a break in traffic and jogged across Seawall Boulevard. The recent rain dampened the pavement and scented the air. Cars swished by, their tires kicking up small sprays of water and sand.

He descended a set of concrete steps to the deserted beach. The damp sand was hard packed, so he left his shoes on and started walking. Overhead, clouds still brooded. The pulse of the gulf beat against the long stretch of land, the rush and retreat of it never ceasing. That at least was one thing that never changed. But the rhythm didn’t soothe him as it usually did. Bits of his life played out in his head, the illusion of expectation shattered by the reality of fact. He felt as though he were riding a train that had been switched to the wrong track and was careening into the unknown.

But was it the wrong track? Or one he’d chosen on his own without even realizing it.

He walked out onto one of the massive rock fingers that stretched into the gulf to break up the waves before they reached shore. They’d been built to protect the island from the fury of hurricanes, but Chance felt a wild urge to go to the edge of that protection, to dare fate to make his life any more chaotic than it already was.

The wind grew stronger as he moved away from the beach. His shirt whipped against his arms and back in stinging slaps. Waves crashed against the rocks near his feet with a force that reverberated up his legs. The warm, salty spray erupted around him, splattering his clothes and face.

He walked to the end, until he could go no farther without stepping off into the gulf itself. There he stood with the wind buffeting his body, the clouds rolling overhead, and the water brewing beneath him.

This is it
, he told himself. End of the line. Time to make a decision. When he turned and walked back to the safety of the beach, he could either work to get his life back to where it was, or he could sever his ties to all his old plans.

He almost laughed when he realized there wasn’t any choice at all. He’d already made his choice, had been making it in a hundred small steps over the summer. He’d chosen the inn over the bank, Aurora over Paige, himself over a hundred and fifty years of Chancellor tradition.

To hell with what others expected. He’d chosen himself.

His spirits lifted suddenly as nature continued to rage all around. He’d chosen the life he could have with Aurora. She would never fit into his old life. But he could fit perfectly into her life... if she’d let him.

If she’d let him.

That thought brought him back to earth. She’d said she loved him, but what assurance was there in that? He’d said he loved her before he’d known if it would go further. Loving someone didn’t mean you wanted to spend the rest of your life with that person. What would he do if he committed himself to this new direction, severed his old ties, only to learn she didn’t want him?

Would that make a difference in his decision about the bank?

No. Even if she didn’t want him, he no longer wanted his old life. It didn’t fulfill him anymore. He wanted to build a new life and he hoped it would include Aurora at his side.

Her words came back to him from the day on the pier when he’d told her to accept the bank’s decision, to accept defeat. She’d asked if he’d ever taken a chance on anything.

He hadn’t. But the time had come for him to live up to his name. He turned, determination squaring his shoulders. It was time to take the biggest chance of his life.

~ ~ ~

Rory stood at a window in the office staring out toward the cove. Her mind couldn’t seem to settle on one thought, but shifted from Chance and his father, the scene at the bank, to Paige’s mother, the ball, her own family, the inn. Everything was a jumble that somehow seemed connected. Every action she’d taken over the past three months seemed like a stone being thrown into a pond, the ripples spreading outward, affecting everyone and everything.

She’d talked her family into risking their entire savings to start an inn, with no thought to the possibility for failure. She’d tumbled into bed with Chance with no thought to the consequences. Because of those two actions, her life and the lives of everyone around her were forever changed.

“Rory?” her sister said from behind her. “Did you hear me?”

“Hmm?” She turned her head.

Seated at the desk, Allison gave her a worried look. “Are you all right? You’ve seemed so on edge since you got back from the bank.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” How could she explain that the world suddenly felt too big and frightening? Was it the pregnancy that had her emotions running so out of control? “I guess I’m a bit distracted. What were you saying?”

“I was going over the To Do list for next Friday.” Allison looked over the pad in her hand, her expression a mix of dismay and determination. “There’s so much that has to be done, and all of it in one day. Adrian will be tied up with the cooking, and I have a ton of running-around-town stuff to do, so you’ll need to be here all day to accept the deliveries. The flowers won’t be here until Saturday morning, but the rental company will be here Friday afternoon with everything else. Except the bar. That was taken for a party Friday night so they won’t be able to bring it until Saturday morning. As for the liquor delivery...”

Allison’s voice faded into the background as Rory turned back to the window. Where was Chance? Was he still with his father? Absently, she rested a hand over her stomach, a reaction to the strange flutter of nerves. Then the flutter came again, and she realized what it was. Not nerves at all.

“Oh, my...” she breathed, looking down in awe.

“What is it?” Alli asked. “What’s wrong?”

She stared at her sister. “The baby just moved.”

“Are you sure?” Alli stared back, looking equally stunned.

She just stood there, unable to answer as the reality of the life inside her crashed over her. No longer was the baby some vague concept off in the future. It was here, now, miraculously alive. A baby. Her baby. Alive and tucked safely inside her.

Tears welled up in her eyes, joy, terror, amazement. “My baby moved,” she choked out.

Allison hurried over and enfolded her in her arms. “It’s okay. You’re all right.” Cooing softly, her sister guided her to sit on the settee. “Don’t cry, Rory. Everything will be all right. Adrian and I are here to help you, no matter what happens.”

“No, it’s not that. It’s—” She sniffed and smiled through her tears. “It’s just so wonderful. And frightening!”

“I know.” Allison smoothed her hair. “I know.”

The sound of the front door opening and closing made both of them stiffen. Rory wiped frantically at her cheeks, but knew the gesture was useless.

“Hello?” Chance called a moment before he appeared in the office doorway.

Rory looked up, feeling exposed—and knew the minute he saw her tears.

“Aurora?” He rushed over to kneel before her. “What’s happened?”

“Nothing. I—” She glanced at her sister, a silent plea for help.

Tell him?
her sister begged with her eyes.

But fear still held her back.
I can’t!
she wanted to wail.
Not yet.

“Aurora?” Chance said softly, his face lined with concern.

Allison squeezed her hand. “I’ll go see if Adrian needs help in the kitchen.”

When Allison left, Chance moved into the space she’d vacated. “Aurora, what is it?”

She stared at him feeling more vulnerable than she ever had in her life. She hadn’t expected love to make her feel that way. She’d expected it to make her feel cherished and safe. But it didn’t feel that way at all!

If only she knew the right thing to do. The thing that would hurt the least number of people.

“Nothing’s wrong,” she said, taking the coward’s way out. But she needed time. Just a little bit more time to decide when and how to tell him.

“What do you mean, nothing?” His brow wrinkled. “I find you here crying, and you say nothing’s wrong? Is it that business with Marcy? If so, it’ll be okay. Paige will handle her mom when she gets back.”

“It’s not just Marcy Baxter. It’s... everything! The ball, the inn. We’ve all been working so hard, and what if we fail?”

“Hey, what’s this?” He gathered her into his arms. “What’s this talk of failing? And what did you do with Aurora St. Claire? The Aurora I know would never talk of failing. She’s much too brave for that.”

She almost laughed—almost told him she wasn’t brave at all. She was frightened and foolish and she had no idea what to do about the mess she was in. “You’re right,” she said instead. “It’s just that I’m so worried. I keep thinking maybe I should have listened to you about the money. If the inn fails, we’ll lose everything, and it will be all my fault, because I’m the one who talked everyone into this.” She buried her face in her hands. “What was I thinking?”

“Aurora...” He pulled her hands away, his eyes full of understanding and support. “First of all, your enthusiasm is very persuasive, but you didn’t arm-twist anyone into anything. To be honest, I’m glad you didn’t listen to me, or none of this would be happening.” He cupped her jaw and stared at her as if willing her to stay confident. “We’re all in this together, and we are not going to fail. Do you hear me? We’ve already started getting calls, and once the ball is over, word of mouth will start spreading. I’m proud to be a part of this, and you should be, too. We’ll be fine, Aurora. We’ll be fine.”

“You really think so?” She sniffed, hating her own doubt.

“Yes, I do. So stop worrying. That’s my job.” He dried her cheek with his thumb. “Your job is to dream big dreams. Mine is to find ways to make them happen. Together I think we make a pretty good team. Don’t you?”

She wanted to say yes, but how deep was his commitment to making her dreams come true? Did he even know those dreams had shifted to include a lifetime with him? Somehow he’d become everything to her. How could she have given him so much power over her happiness, her heart, her life? What would she do if he didn’t share the same depth of emotion she felt for him?

She straightened and dried her face. “You’re right. We make a very good team. I’m just tired, is all.”

“You have a right to be tired. You’ve been working way too hard. So why don’t we take the evening off and go back to my place? I could use some downtime after the day I’ve had.”

She remembered now. The scene at the bank. “Did you find your father?”

“Yeah.” He started to tell her everything, his conversation with his dad, his revelation on the beach, his decision to quit his job at the bank rather than give up the inn. All of it welled up inside him, including the desire to ask her to marry him. He wanted to blurt it all out, but it lodged in his throat.

His heart started pounding, making it hard to breathe.

In a rush, he stood, forcing air into his lungs.

“Chance?” she asked, still seated. “Are you okay?”

No, he wasn’t okay! He was on the verge of throwing his entire world at her feet and terrified she’d reject it. Reject him.

“I’m fine,” he managed. “Like I said, it’s been a rough day.”

He started to pace and she stared at his legs. “Why are your pants legs all wet?”

“Hmm?” He looked down. “Oh, I went walking on the beach.” He paced a bit more. “Look, why don’t we get something to eat, then go to the apartment where we can... talk?”

“Okay,” she sighed, sounding incredibly tired. “I guess it won’t hurt to take one night off. Just give me a minute to tell Alli and Adrian we’re leaving.”

He nodded. The minute she left the room, he dropped forward and braced his hands against his knees as he gulped in air. What a narrow escape that had been from a really stupid move. He couldn’t just blurt out a proposal of marriage. He needed to plan what to say and how to say it.