Never Say Never, Part Two (Second Chance Romance, Book 2) (7 page)

Chase ground his teeth until they squeaked, then glanced sideways at Janet. “Can I talk to you outside for a second?”
 

“Sure, Chasey.”
 

Chasey? That was abhorrent. Worst. Nickname. Ever.
 

“I meant Emily.”
 

“What?!”
Janet stomped her foot in a mini-tantrum. “Absolutely not. I won’t allow it.”
 

“I’m kind of busy here,”
Emily said, her arm was numb from holding up the drunk sack of vitriol.

“It will take a second.”
Chase gestured to the door and Emily wavered.
 

What could he possible say to her which would make a difference?
 

“Amanda, take a seat for a second. I’ll be back in a few, okay?”
 

“Yesh, yesh, whatever.”
She pulled her cardigan straight, but hooked her pinky through a buttonhole instead. Emily fed her into a chair and she promptly plopped her forehead on the table.
 

Janet gave an almighty huff and marched off to the opposite end of the table.
 

That suited Emily fine. The less they spoke, the better.
 

She followed Chase out into the street and guarded herself against the fall nip in the air, by pulling her own sweater closer to her body.
 

“We can’t keep doing this.”
 

“What? Meeting up? I agree completely,”
Emily answered. She hated seeing him with Janet and she hated being angry.
 

“No,”
Chase answered, and closed the distance between them with a broad step. “This. The fighting, the separation.”
 

“W-What are you doing?”
Having him this close knocked the breath right out of her lungs. This couldn’t happen. He couldn’t be trusted. He was here with Janet for God’s sake!
 

He touched her cheek gently, stroking it with his thumb and her insides turned to jelly. Those nerves, that emotion sprang up again.

She wanted his lips, his heart, his hands, his everything.
 

No. No, she couldn’t let it happen. No weakness this time.
 

“Emily.”
Her name had never sounded sweeter.
 

Chase lowered those soft lips and pressed them to hers, a silken brush of desire. They were warm, but shivers of pleasure ran down her spine.
 

“Chase,”
she said, husky with need.
 

“Don’t speak.”
He went in for another kiss, his intent plain in that dreamy gaze, but paused, “Everyone deserves a second chance.”
 

Emily pulled back with a low growl. “What does that mean?”
 

“Just what I said.”
 

“Are you saying that I deserve a second chance from you?”
 

“Wha
–
well, yeah.”
 

“Fuck you, Chase Newman.”
 

He still didn’t understand what he’d done wrong. He still thought it was okay to lie to her about damn near everything and keep his secrets. Man, she didn’t even know what he did for a living.
 

Whenever she’d asked anything she’d gotten vague answers.
 

“Emily, come on. I can’t take this anymore. I’m trying to fix things here.”
 

“You can’t be that keen on fixing things if you’re here with Janet.”

Chase fumbled in his pocket and struck a pose. “I’m confused.”
 

“Ah, I see. Good luck with that.”
 

“Emily, how could I not be confused? You gave up on me. You gave up on us, and you didn’t trust me enough to share. Hell, you didn’t act like you wanted to be with me, even when we were together.”
 

“We were never together.”
 

“Yeah, right,”
he answered, cars rushing by behind him, “so you expect me to know what’s going on when you’re sending me these mixed signals?”
 

“Mixed signals.”
Emily shook her head in disbelief. He’d mind fucked her, but she was the one who’d sent mixed signals. “Okay. I see. Here’s a clear ass signal for you, Chase. Never contact me again.”
 

Pedestrians strolled by and the lights of city lit the streets in a multi-colored glow. They didn’t speak for a moment.

“Fine,”
he said, finally.
 

Emily turned her back on him and entered the restaurant. She had a drunk Barbie to escort home.

CHAPTER NINE

“You tapped that Chashe guy?”
 

Emily bundled her drunk ‘friend’
into the passenger seat of the Audi –
Amanda had picked her up for the date –
and closed the door without an answer.
 

She got into the driver’s side, leaned over and strapped Amanda in. God forbid she should perish in a fiery crash or anything.
 

“I shaid, did you tap that Chashe guy?”
Amanda was insistent, and her pink lipstick was smudged across her cheek.
 

Emily started the car and put it in gear. “It’s nothing.”
 

“Figures. Not even you could get a guy like that. He hash the jawline of a God. Like Thor.”
Amanda stifled a yawn. “What are we waiting for? I’m tired.”
 

“Yeah, amongst other things.”
She muttered it and the drunkard didn’t seem to notice.
 

Chase had taken it a step too far with the cheek-stroking. She couldn’t handle his touch. It was heroin to her, her new cocaine. She didn’t want to be addicted to that man, but she couldn’t help herself.
 

“That other bitch. The fire crotch. What was her name?”
Amanda’s ‘s’ was back. If the slur had already faded, time was short.
 

“Janet.”
It tasted bitter saying that.
 

“That his girlfriend?”
 

“I don’t know.”
And she didn’t care. Or she did, but she didn’t want to. That made her angrier. Why couldn’t she forget about this guy and move on?
 

“I know her from somewhere.”
Amanda scratched her head.
 

“Who? Janet?”
 

“No,”
she answered with a sarcastic hiss, “the bar lady. Of course, Janet. Swinging around the stripper pole has dulled your mind.”

Emily ignored her. “Where from?”
 

“I don’t know. She looks familiar. I’m sure I’ve seen a picture of her or something.”

“Yeah, she stared at you funny too.”
Emily spurred her on.
 

“Probably just jealous because she’s a ginger and I’m sexy.”
Amanda pressed the button on the window and fresh air zipped into the car, whipping strands of Emily’s hair back from her face.
 

“Anyway, we’re almost at your place.”
 

“Good. Poor Bri is still out on business. That’s good for you though, because he simply wouldn’t stand it if you were around.”
 

The lips were loose on this one. Red wine was Amanda’s truth serum, apparently.
 

“You know, I want to have more kids but he doesn’t?”
She pressed her finger to her lips in a shushing motion.
 

“He’s not exactly the most accommodating man, is he?”
Emily pushed harder, keeping focus on the road but her mind sharp from the two glasses of water she’d downed before they’d left Co.
 

“He’s a hard ass. But he’s my hard ass. I hope you realize that.”
 

Did this crazy woman really think that she wanted Brian back after what he’d put her through?

“He’s all yours, trust me. I have no interest in Brian Ross.”
 

“Better keep it that way.”
 

“Wait, so he doesn’t want more kids?”
Figured. Brian was a terrible father. He didn’t give a shit about Jared or Becci. He saw them as assets for the future, and any money he poured into them –
food, clothes, and schooling –
was an investment for the future.
 

They were to be his little angels, the American dream to better his chance of becoming president one day.
 

God save the country if that happened.
 

“Kids, no.”
Sadness crept into Amanda’s tone. “I want a little baby girl so bad. One of my own. We’d wear matching clothes, hold hands, go shopping together.”
 

Emily blinked at the vision of an equally pink girl holding Amanda’s hand.
 

“I’m sorry about that. Really am.”
She wasn’t. Amanda wasn’t exactly fit to be a mother. Too selfish. “But here we are.”
 

She pulled into the long drive and drove up to the house, gravel crunching beneath the tires.
 

“Thank God. Took you long enough.”
Amanda fumbled with the door handle but couldn’t get it to work.
 

“I’ll get that.”
Emily jumped out and rushed to the passenger side. She opened up and gripped her companion around the waist, then leveraged her from the car.
 

Amanda clung to her with both arms around her shoulders, and craned upwards to stare at Emily.
 

“Why are you being so nice to me?”
 

“What are friends for?”
 

A flash of guilt passed over Amanda’s expression and was gone a second later. Emily slammed the car door shut with her hip and half-walked, half-dragged the drunk congressman’s wife to the front door.
 

She fished the keys out of Amanda’s handbag and let them into the house. The alarm wasn’t armed at least. A small blessing.
 

“Where’s your room?”
 

“Upstairs, first on left.”
She yawned wide and indicated at the same time.
 

Emily got her up the stairs, covered in a mauve plush carpet of course, and into her wood-paneled bedroom. Brian liked everything to look stately, no matter how off-putting it was.
 

Emily had begged to change the décor, but the man had been set in his ways. That hadn’t changed at least.
 

The sheets were the same.
 

She drew them back and delivered Amanda to her bed.
 

“Thank you.”
Amanda mumbled, eyes already drifting closed. “Don’t tell Brian.”
 

“Oh, I won’t.”
Emily grinned at her sleeping ‘competitor’.
 

This was her chance. She could see the kids. Make them understand.
 

She hurried out of the main bedroom and to the room at the end of the hall –
Becci had slept there when she’d lived in the house.
 

She opened the door and let herself in.
 

“Who’s that?”
Jared sat up in bed and Emily gave a start.
 

“It’s mom.”
 

“Oh. What are you doing here?”
 

Becci sat up beside him, rubbing sleep out of her eyes. She was seven now. Seven whole years old –
and her blonde curls were also intact.

“I brought Amanda home and I wanted to check you two were okay,”
she said, putting on a brusque motherly attitude. “What are you two doing in the same room?”
 

“Becci was afraid.”
Jared answered, and Emily went to the bed, still outfitted in white sheets dotted with purple flowers.
 

She sat down on the edge and gave a sigh. “I want you two to know something.”
 

Becci stared at her in disbelief, a small glimmer of recognition in her gaze. “You’re my mommy.”

“Yes, my darling, I am.”
 

“Not anymore.”
Jared refused to look at her.