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The Second Chance Plan (Caught Up In Love: The Swoony New Reboot of the Contemporary Romance Series Book 3)

Page 12

by Lauren Blakely


  “Are things worse?”

  “Not that I’m aware of. They’re meeting with the lawyers and Mr. Wilco today. This is just a precaution Mr. Leighton wanted to take.”

  That seemed reasonable enough, though still scary.

  “I’ll be here when class ends,” the driver replied, and that was clearly all the information I was getting.

  Sure enough, the driver was waiting inside the lobby of the business building in the early afternoon. I started toward the main door, but he gestured down the hallway, wrapped a hand around my elbow, and guided me to a back door that led to the building’s rarely used service exit. There, the car was waiting.

  “Okay, now I’m getting nervous with this whole cloak-and-dagger operation.” Especially when Bryan hadn’t texted me back that morning. “Is Bryan . . . Mr. Leighton . . . okay?”

  “I would imagine so,” the driver said. Imagine. He didn’t know. “Where can I take you, Miss Harper?” he asked as he started the car.

  I gave him the address of a café where I was meeting Claire, and he drove me there, standing guard outside as Claire and I sipped hot chocolate and I tried to pretend my day hadn’t been turned upside down with covert affairs.

  “I want a full report when you return from Paris,” Claire said. “I’ll be out of the country for a week. I convinced my husband to take me away on a technology-free trip to Tahiti.”

  “A trip without tech. How daring!”’

  She whispered clandestinely, “I’m not sure I’ll make it without my blogs. But I will do my best.”

  We chatted about being dependent on our phones, and boy, did I ever feel tethered to mine. It was all I could do not to pick it up every time I took a breath in the conversation. I wanted to hear from Bryan. Wanted to know what was going on.

  When it was time to head home, I settled into the safety of the leather seats of the town car, closed my eyes, and tried desperately to let go of the caged-in day and my worry. Then, as we idled in the stalled Park Avenue traffic, I heard the driver’s phone ring. My ears pricked as he answered.

  “Hello?”

  In his pause, I could make out the gravelly sound of the other voice. Nicole Blazer.

  “Yes?”

  A pause.

  “She’s with me right now.”

  Another pause, and a strange fear ricocheted through my body.

  “I’ll bring her.”

  He ended the call and looked at me in the rearview mirror. “Nicole says Bryan has been asking for you.”

  Nicole placed a gentle hand on my arm. “It’s not dire, but his hand is pretty banged up.”

  “What on earth happened?”

  Nicole held open the pristinely painted white door that led into the foyer of Bryan’s brownstone on Sixtieth and Park. “We were meeting with Wilco and his attorneys this afternoon to review the wrongful termination suit and attempt to settle. We were all there, and one minute it was tense but civil, and the next it got personal. Bryan kept his cool, but then Wilco sucker-punched him.”

  My eyes widened with shock. “Oh my God. Really?” I pressed my hand to my mouth, but then lowered it to ask, “Did Bryan hit him back? Is that how he injured his hand?”

  Nicole grimaced. “No. He stumbled against the marble-topped table and sprained his hand.”

  “But he’s okay except for that?” I asked. “What happened with Wilco?”

  “It all happened so quickly. The security guard at the office rushed in and restrained Wilco, and his attorneys tried to calm everything down, then the police came a few minutes later and arrested him.”

  “For hitting Bryan?” I tried to wrap my head around the scene.

  Nicole nodded. “Partly for that, but mostly because Wilco has been harassing him with late-night phone calls, and then he called me last night. That’s why Bryan sent his car for you this morning. To keep you safe all day.” I didn’t realize I was shaking until Nicole put her arms around me. “Hey. You’re okay. Everyone’s okay. Wilco’s in police custody now, and his lawyers told him he’d blown any chance of a wrongful termination suit.”

  “Where’s Bryan? How is he?”

  She gestured toward the staircase. “Upstairs on the living room couch. Everybody freaked out, and the board made him go to the hospital to make sure he hadn’t broken his hand. They gave him some pain meds.” She allowed herself a slight grin. “Apparently, he’s a bit of a lightweight where those are concerned. Then he kept asking for you.”

  I felt some of the fear leave my body. “He did?”

  Nicole nodded and led the way upstairs. “He said he wanted to see you. Insisted I call you.”

  I followed her, unsure of what to expect. When I reached the living room, Bryan was stretched out on the couch, his head resting on a pillow, the TV on a low volume. He was wearing a checkered button-down shirt and dark-gray pants, but his shoes were off, kicked onto the hardwood floor. His sleeves were rolled up and his right hand was bandaged.

  When he saw me, he smiled as if I were the answer to any question. “Hey, you.”

  I melted at the sound of his voice and the warmth in his eyes. His smile was soft and just a little loopy. It was a little bit adorable. I walked over to him.

  “Sit down,” he said, pointing to the couch.

  I walked over and sat gingerly on the edge, not wanting to hurt him. I pointed to the elastic bandage wrapping his hand. “Does it hurt?”

  “Not now. Those little white pills have worked their voodoo magic.”

  I laughed once. “I bet. Are you okay?”

  “Yeah. And if I’d known all I had to do to get rid of a lawsuit was let him land a punch, I’d have done it sooner.”

  “Don’t say that.”

  “Kat, do you want something to drink?” The question came from Nicole.

  “I’m okay.”

  “Bryan? More water?”

  “How about a beer? When can I have one of those? Or maybe we should get champagne to celebrate the suit being dropped.”

  Nicole rolled her eyes and headed upstairs, leaving us alone.

  “So,” I began, not sure where I was going.

  “So,” he replied, and flashed me another one of his woozy smiles.

  “Those pain meds must be good.”

  “Not as good as you.” Then he reached his unbandaged hand into my hair and pulled me closer, bringing my lips to his and kissing me softly. It was the last thing I expected, but it was the thing I wanted most in the world. I gave in to the kiss, to the way his lips knew mine, to the way he tasted sweet and salty at the same time. “Now, I feel much better.”

  He closed his eyes and fell asleep.

  Nicole didn’t know everything. But she knew enough.

  “It wasn’t that hard to figure out,” she said as we sat on the metal stools in Bryan’s kitchen while he dozed. Nicole’s feet dangled, making her look even tinier.

  “Really?”

  “I noticed how he talked about you. I think you’re pretty brilliant too, but there was something else in his voice. Something more vulnerable. And then yesterday in my office when you looked at him as he walked away, it all clicked.”

  I dropped my head in my hands. “I’m so obvious.”

  “No. You’re just in love.” Nicole sounded like a gruff, tough chick doling out truisms with that husky voice of hers.

  “But we’re not supposed to be,” I said.

  She waved a hand. “When are we ever supposed to be? I mean, does it ever happen at the right time? I met my partner on a work project too. There are always complications in every relationship.”

  “Did he say anything?” I was fishing for information, but I didn’t care. I wanted to know how all our care and discretion had ended up being useless.

  But more than that, I wanted to know what happened now. I wanted us to be something, wanted to move beyond texting and flirting, museum visits and coffee shop stops. More than anything I wanted to be in his life.

  “I just asked him point-blank at the hospit
al if he had a thing for you. He said yes.” My heart fluttered, and even with Bryan banged up downstairs, I couldn’t help but grin wildly. “And he was all worried about the board and how they’d look at it because of Wilco’s affair. And then there’s Caldwell, who’s Captain Conservative.”

  “Right, and those are all still true.”

  “Yes, but you’re twenty-three and not an employee.” Nicole reached out and took my hand. She looked very pleased with herself, like a good matchmaker pulling off a match. “When I asked him if it was the real thing with you, and he said yes to that as well, I told him I’d talk to the board and to Caldwell in particular. The guy’s conservative as hell, but he didn’t freak out when I brought my partner to the holiday party last year, so I think I can convince him.”

  That was all I wanted. To be more than just playmates. To be the real thing. A rush of happiness warmed me all over.

  “What about NYU though? And the mentor program?”

  “I told Bryan that as long as he recused himself as your mentor, everything should be fine.”

  Would it? That would leave me without a mentor for the rest of the term, and if I didn’t have a mentor, would I have to retake the class? I needed this course in order to graduate.

  Too much relied on my graduation for me to think this would be as easy as Nicole thought.

  24

  Bryan

  Five Years Ago

  As Kat went into the campus bookstore, I read the email again. This could set the course for my entire career—or at least with this company.

  Looks like there might be an opening soon in our Paris office. You’re fluent, right? Let’s talk Monday about this.

  Equal parts excitement and surprise raced through me. My boss had mentioned working abroad in their Paris branch, but it had never occurred to me that it might happen so quickly. When I’d interviewed for the job, it hadn’t occurred to me that there would be someone I cared about leaving behind. Now I realized I might be separated from Kat by an ocean. I wanted to stay, but I wanted to go.

  When I found her in the bookstore, I must have looked as conflicted as I felt, because she asked if everything was okay.

  “Yeah, it’s great actually,” I said, because I did want this. I did want the opportunity to learn and grow in my career. I was just starting out and this would broaden the world of possibilities open to me. “I might be going to Paris soon. To work.”

  “That’s amazing!” She laughed and threw her arms around me.

  “You’ll have to come visit me,” I said. I wanted to see how she’d respond. Was it even fair of me to suggest it, visiting a guy she’d known less than three months? Coming down to New York was one thing, and she would be living here soon.

  She pulled back to look at me, a wide smile on her gorgeous face. “You know I’d be there in a heartbeat to see you.”

  And that’s the moment. Right there. When everything became all too clear. A little moment. A sweet comment. Everything that should melt my heart. And it did. That was the trouble. I loved her too much to let her miss what might be the best part of her life…for me.

  How weird that her agreement, her excitement, would bring everything to a screeching halt. Was I really going to ask her to fly across the ocean when she should be enjoying college, her first time living away from home? I wouldn’t trade my college years for anything—I’d learned as much about myself as I had in class. What if being with me kept her from discovering all that she could?

  We were both starting out, in different ways. I’d have to discover who I was as a businessman. Could I do that and give Kat all the attention and support she deserved? Especially if I was on another continent.

  Staying together wasn’t going to work. It wasn’t fair to her. Keeping her in my life would only enhance it, but I didn’t think I could say the opposite was true. I had to step back. That’s what my conscience told me. I didn’t want to hold her back from anything, and I knew staying together would only do that. I wanted her to be free to live her life fully in college, without the burden of a boyfriend across an ocean.

  I kissed her hard that night when I put her on the train back to Mystic, wishing it didn’t feel like it might be the last time.

  25

  Kat

  Present Day

  Nicole headed for her own home, leaving me with a pint of Ben & Jerry’s Chocolate Therapy. All I could think was how Bryan might be free and clear, but there was no way I would come out of this unscathed. Not right now, at least. Any possibility of an us would have to go back on hold once again. I couldn’t have him end the mentorship. I needed to finish school for a million reasons.

  I went to the kitchen, feeling a bit like an intruder as I rooted around for two spoons. I’d never been in his place before, and now here I was, for all intents and purposes taking care of him after a trip to the ER.

  I found a white wood-paneled drawer that held utensils, grabbed two spoons, snagged two cloth napkins from the holder on the island, and returned to the living room. Bryan was awake now, reading a book on his tablet. Night had fallen, and the lights were dimmed. There was just enough illumination that I could look over the room again.

  The hardwood floors were a polished blond, and the walls were eggshell colored, giving the room warmth. There were a few pieces of art on the walls—reproductions of the Magritte with an apple in front of a man’s face and of Mark Rothko’s abstract images in solid red. The couch was comfortable and classy in a dove-gray color, and the coffee table was made of a sheet of sturdy glass atop two brushed metal blocks.

  When he saw me, he set his tablet aside. I joined him on the couch, opened the pint of ice cream, and presented him with a spoon.

  “My favorite. How did you know?”

  “Nicole knew, silly.”

  “It was a rhetorical question,” he said with a lopsided smile.

  He dug into the ice cream, and I joined him. We ate quietly for a minute, but after a few bites, he put the spoon down on the coffee table. I placed my spoon and the pint next to it. “Did Nicole tell you?” he asked.

  “Tell me what?”

  “Anything interesting?” he asked with a side-eye, watching for my reaction.

  “She told me about the mediation, and how that all went down.”

  He leaned back on the couch cushion and looked up at the ceiling. “You think you know a guy . . .” Then he picked his head back up and looked at me. “You don’t have to worry about being followed anymore. That was Wilco’s private investigator. Now that the suit’s settled, he is off the job.”

  “Wilco sicced a private investigator on me?” We hadn’t given him anything to see, but the idea of being spied on made me shudder.

  “Well, on me, but then on you too. He wanted something to show my ‘hypocrisy’ to the board. Nice, huh? I can’t forgive him for putting you through that.”

  “You too. Not just me.”

  He shifted so he could face me and cupped my face with his hand. Not just a brush, but a proper touch. “I know you have a lot riding on this class. I couldn’t forgive myself if being with me ruined that for you.”

  He was clear and direct, and my heart was about to burst. “But now that’s over.”

  “Yes.”

  “No more PI.”

  “Nope.” His hand curled around the back of my head. “Just you and me.”

  I was a flood of colors. I was the center of a sunburst as my heart beat faster, and happiness rushed all through the freeways of the intersecting veins inside my body, filling me with everything good in the world.

  I put all that feeling into kissing him, closing the gap between us and giving in entirely. He pulled me to him, kissing me deeper, closer. My arms wrapped around his neck while my hands worked their way up into his soft hair. His good hand pressed firmly into my back, while his bandaged one rested by his side. My hunger for him was deeper than that afternoon at the factory, and here we were, Bryan’s lips on mine, sweeter than the ice cream that would be a choco
late puddle if we kept going like this.

  But we couldn’t keep going like this. We had to figure out what this was.

  I pulled back. “We need to talk.”

  He tensed, but then shifted to a sitting position and to his standard business voice. “Okay.”

  I was reminded how quickly he could segue from one mode to another. I wasn’t sure if that was an admirable trait or not.

  “Nicole told me the advice she gave you. That we could pursue a relationship or whatever.” I found myself blushing and looked away when I said the words.

  He smirked, but it turned into a grin. “‘A relationship or whatever’? Is that what the kids are calling it? Relationships or whatever?”

  I pretended to punch his arm.

  “Hey. I’m damaged goods now. Be careful.”

  “Anyway. So, yeah. Relationship or whatever.”

  “Do we call it boyfriend-girlfriend? Or is that too high school? Lovers just seems so weird. Especially since, you know, I haven’t seen you fully naked yet.”

  “Okay. I thought we were being serious,” I said, but it occurred to me that maybe he was avoiding the serious conversation.

  “Fine. I’m serious.”

  “We can’t be involved until I graduate. Professor Oliver won’t stand for it. And I have to get my degree. Not just to get the investment in my business, but because I want to. We have to really, truly, for real this time put everything on hold. Yes, we could sneak around. Yes, we could try not to get caught. But I want to do things the right way. I want to start over with you in the open, not in hiding.”

  I squared my shoulders. I couldn’t yield to wishes, or him, or my feelings. “I guess what I’m saying is you have to be my mentor. You can’t recuse yourself, or I might not be able to finish school.”

 

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