Everyone Deserves a Second Chance: A Billionaire Romance Box Set

by Tara Brent

  He can't see in the darkness but I feel myself blush at his fervent stare. That much I can see. His whole demeanor has changed.

  “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that, of course, we must arrange for you two to meet as soon as possible. I’ve read your portfolio, you’ve been a busy woman over the years.”

  “Yep, I kept myself busy, how about you?” I dare to ask, knowing I’m prying a bit.

  I'd sat down on a seat inside the shelter but Drew had remained standing. He didn't answer my question and without warning, he comes to sit by my side and takes my face in his hands.

  “It’s good to see you, Chrissy,” he says, his face now so close to mine and I feel the warmth of his breath. “It’s odd how you still do things to me...”

  I have no chance to say anything as he presses his lips onto mine and steals a kiss. It's like an electric shock as our lips press together. I haven’t felt these sort of feelings in years. It seems wrong somehow, yet, I can’t resist him. Everything about him sends me into a passionate whirl. His aroma of fresh-cut wood and that deep musky man smell. How the hell can I stop him? It’s a passionate kiss and it makes me feel like we’ve gone back in time. As if we never left one another and all the years between didn’t happen.

  The kiss is long and we finally separate, coming up for air. Now, I'm embarrassed again and no words will come to mind.

  “I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me,” he attempts to explain. “Whatever it was, it won’t happen again, I promise.”

  “Drew, it’s fine, don’t beat yourself up over a stolen kiss. It was nice,” I say to him because for some reason he seems annoyed.

  “I want to keep our relationship professional, Chrissy. I hope you understand that,” he tells me. “It was just seeing you, and then the two of us being alone, I don’t know, something came over me and...I...”

  “Hey, Drew, it’s all good. I won’t be telling anyone, I promise. This has nothing to do with my teaching your daughter, so put that thought aside. By the way, what’s her name?” I ask, in an attempt to change the subject.

  I can feel how tense he is, my Drew. Yes, I can still read him like a book.

  “She’s called Annie, for short, and she’s everything to me,” he replies. “We’re...erm...missing her mother.”

  “Yes, it must be a difficult and lonely time for you both, having lost someone you love,” I reply, remembering when I lost my dad.

  “I have to go,” he announces out of the blue. “I’ll...erm...see you tomorrow, if that’s convenient. You can come to the apartment and meet Annie, and Rita, my housekeeper. I'll let them know to expect you. Sorry, I have to go.”

  I watched as he jogged away into the distance and then I made my way back to the bench to pick up my bike. The rain had slowed down but it hadn’t stopped. I didn’t bother to turn and look up at his apartment, best to get home and not think about the glorious kiss we both enjoyed.

  Chapter 6

  A Pretty French Sweetheart

  “Allo, Mademoiselle, please, enter?” I hear Rita say as she answers the doorbell.

  Damn, I’d forgotten Chrissy was visiting today. I’ve been so busy with work, it had completely slipped my mind.

  Rita had asked me not to expect her to answer doors and telephones until her English improved. I thought her request nonsense and refused, telling her it was an ideal way to improve her English. Bah! Do I push my housekeeper too far? I love Rita dearly. She has been a rock in our household since Clara died. God, I miss my wife! Coping with leaving France has been hard on Rita too. She’s worked for Clara’s family for over thirty years and wouldn’t dream of leaving us. I must remember not to be so hard on her.

  “Hi," I hear Chrissy's voice. "I’ve been invited to come and meet Annie as her possible new tutor."

  My stomach turns over, not because I don’t want to have the meeting, but because Chrissy confuses my mind. Why did I kiss her? I still have deep feelings for my wife and that kiss seems like a betrayal. Damn it!

  “Oh, yes, oui, I know of this,” I can hear Rita stumbling with her English. "I will inform Monsieur Gagnon that you are here.”

  “Well done, Rita, you managed your English well,” I congratulate her when she knocks on my open doorway.

  She smiles back at me. What would I do without her? She's been a surrogate mother for Annie in these very hard times. A hardy little French woman who stuck by both of us through the very darkest of days.

  “Ahh...yes, I did. You now come and join...erm...us?” Rita asks, in her broken English. I speak fluent French but we agreed we’d both make the effort not to do so. “Peus-tu faire...," she lets it slip. "I mean...can you do that? Yes?”

  “Of course I will. Let me save this file and I’ll be along in a moment,” I tell her, wanting to delay it a few more seconds. “Can you make some coffee for our guest, and call for Annie?”

  Rita smiled and left. Of course, she would have done all that anyway without my instructions. She takes great care of us and is more like a member of the family than a housekeeper. I’m delaying going in there because I’m trying to keep my feelings in check. I need to stop this nonsense and stop seeing my daughter’s tutor in that way. Whatever we had once, it is now in the past and I need to move on, for the sake of my daughter and the memory of my wife...

  I step out of my room and almost collide into Annie. My daughter has come running down the hallway keen to see her new tutor.

  “Hey, sweetheart, you ready for this?” I ask in a quiet voice. “Don’t forget, English only.”

  “Yes, Pappa,” she replies, stopping in her tracks. “I am ready.”

  “Good, let’s go together and if you don’t like her, don’t worry, we can get someone else,” I remind her.

  I know that Chrissy is more than qualified, but do I want her around? She stirs up many memories of our young love.

  “Hello, Chrissy,” I say as we enter the living area. “Glad you made it,” I offer her my hand in greeting, trying to keep everything formal. “And this little jumping bean here, is Annie, my daughter.”

  Chrissy bends her knees to be at Annie’s level and holds out her hand in greeting.

  “Hello, Annie,” she smiles. “My name is Chrissy and I’m very pleased to meet you.”

  “Es-tu mon professeur?” Annie replies, with a frown on her little face.

  “English, Annie!” I remind her rather harshly.

  I’m aware of my moods and I don’t mean to be severe, but my daughter has a mind of her own. She’s strong-willed like her mother was, and I know she spoke in French on purpose. My poor daughter wants to return to France and does everything she can to change my mind. Including not wanting an English tutor.

  “Are you my new teacher?” Annie tries again.

  “I would like to be, Annie, but only if you want that too,” Chrissy answers with a gentle tone, as I’d expect her to. She is indeed very good with children.

  “Please," Rita calls out, distracting Annie from replying in French, which I’m sure she was about to do so. "We have refreshments.”

  “I have a little boy, exactly your age, Annie,” Chrissy continues to talk to her, but I’m a little dumbfounded at such news.

  I’d assumed that because she hadn’t married, then she had no children.

  “What...his...name?” Annie asks, in staggered English.

  “Lucas,” Chrissy replies. “And he will love to meet you sometime if you want that?”

  “I do not like boys,” Annie says abruptly. My daughter’s limited English vocabulary means that she isn’t yet adept at the nuances of the English language.

  “Ha, ha,” Chrissy takes it well. “Me too. But I make an exception for my son.”

  I decide not to join in the conversation unless asked, so I listen to them chattering for almost an hour. I suppose I’m trying to read between the lines to see how Annie truly feels. She seems very comfortable with Chrissy, despite the language barrier. Not once did Chrissy mention that she knew me as a
child, which I thought was wise, for now. It’s best we look to the future and not the past.

  “I like you,” I heard Annie say to her new tutor, and Chrissy responded in kind.

  “Thanks for coming over,” I finally speak up as I decide the meeting is all but over.

  “Not at all. It’s important that Annie meets me first,” Chrissy says, looking at me as if I hadn’t forced her to kiss me only yesterday. “Well, Annie, until next time, I will take my leave.”

  Annie gives Chrissy a light hug, which to me indicates that she really does like her. My daughter is not generous with her affections, other than towards family. I want to avoid being alone with Chrissy so I ask Rita to see her out.

  “Oh, before you go, when can you start?” I ask her.

  “I can begin part-time to start with, while I work out my notice at the school. Then we’ll increase the hours if you wish to, once I’ve finished there. So, as soon as you want,” she tells me.

  “Tomorrow? I like you back soon,” Annie says, as she obviously understands what we’re discussing.

  “How about next week then? Whatever days you can manage,” I suggest. “Let Rita know and she’ll relay the message to me. You have our contact number?”

  “Yes I do, and yes that’s fine. I’ll start on Tuesday morning. Any particular time?”

  “I would like her educated full time, as soon as you can,” I explain. “I’ll have my lawyer draw up a contract. If you can give me a timetable of your hours and lesson plans for me to approve, that would be helpful.”

  “Of course, Mr. Gagnon, that's not a problem,” Chrissy says, looking unmoved by my formal attitude towards her.

  “Drew’s fine,” I tell her and she nods her acknowledgment but doesn’t say another word to me.

  She says farewell to Annie, and Rita shows her out.

  “Pappa, J’amie mon prof,” Annie says as she tugs on my trouser leg.

  “Annie!” I look at her sternly.

  “I like my teacher,” she repeats in English.

  With that, I leave the room, thinking to myself that I like her teacher too. Maybe too much.

  Chapter 7

  The Disturbing ex

  Cycling back home after my meeting with Annie, all I can think is what a little sweetheart Drew’s daughter is. I found her adorable and I’m looking forward to teaching her. If it wasn’t for my history with her father, I would be very excited about my new job. His attitude towards me is nothing but confusing. Then again, I don’t know what I expected, we've all moved on.

  I know from experience how hard it is to lose a loved one. Sure, time heals the wound a little, but it never heals fully. That was my main reason for returning to Cowichan Bay, to be close to my father’s memories. I've got a funny feeling that when Drew lost his wife, he felt the need to return home too. To be in the familiar surroundings of his childhood home.

  That's how I felt when I returned. Many of the people I left behind in my childhood are still here. Some have flown the nest, others, like me, left and returned. My mom says she also feels my dad’s presence in this place and it gives her some peace of mind. She never married my dad or anyone else for that matter. Are we both to remain spinsters all our lives?

  I’m to start my new job next week but I haven’t yet approached the fact that I’d like to bring my son along. The old Drew would be fine with that, but this adult man is not someone I recognize. If I can’t occasionally bring Lucas into work with me, I may have to rethink the hours I’m prepared to work. If I do that, then I might as well have stayed at the school. I should have broached the subject today. Ah well, that’s a problem for another day.

  + + +

  Despite my apprehension about Lucas and work, we decide a celebration is in order. Of course, it has to be a pizza place because that's all Lucas will eat when we go out.

  “Mommy, I want a pizza all to myself,” Lucas demands as we settle at our booth enclosure.

  The place is quite full and there’s lots of hustle and bustle around our booth. I like the booths because it helps to stop my child from running around, he can't get past me.

  “You can have anything you want, baby. It’s mommy’s celebration at getting a new job,” I tell him.

  “Can I have ice cream too?” He asks, excited at the prospect.

  “Of course, it’s a special occasion,” I reply, as mom and I smile over at each other. We don’t allow him a lot of sweet things but today is a sweet day, so why not. "I hope it will all fit in that tiny tummy?" I say as I tickle his midriff and we both giggle.

  “Chrissy! Chrissy!” I hear a little voice call out my name.

  As I look around to see if they mean me, little Annie is heading towards our booth.

  “Oh, my!” I say as she approaches. “It seems we're both celebrating, Annie. This is my little boy, Lucas, and this is my mom.”

  “Pappa, Chrissy peut-elle venir à notre table?” She asks a surprised looking Drew, who has now joined her.

  “That depends if Annie will ask in English,” Drew replies to his daughter.

  “Chrissy,” she says in an excited voice, tugging at my sleeve. “You come to my table, yes?”

  “Oh, I’m not sure,” I say, turning to my mom.

  “Of course, we must,” mom agrees. “It would be rude not to,” she says under her breath so only I could hear.

  Decision made, we move tables. As my mom stands, Drew embraces her with genuine fondness.

  “Lisa, you look well,” he says, stepping back from their fond hug.

  “Be careful there, Drew,” mom laughs. “If you squeeze too tight, my bones might break.”

  Her joke helps to break the ice and we follow Annie to a table that's up on a raised floor. There, we meet Rita, the housemaid, who is waiting for them to arrive. This is the section where you pay more to reserve a table. We always sit in the booths as I refuse to pay for a table. Though, we were lucky to get in as this is a very popular Italian restaurant.

  “I’ll arrange for them to bring us another table,” Drew says, calling over to the waiter so we can all stretch out a bit.

  Finally, we settle down. Drew and my mom take the end seats. The children sit side by side, giggling to one another. Rita and I sit together on the other side. Whilst it is an unexpected gathering, I must say we are a happy crowd. We all smile and laugh and enjoy one another’s company. There's pizza in abundance, and the wine flows freely. I wouldn’t drink alcohol in my son’s company, but when Drew orders it, it feels impolite to refuse. Well, that's what I tell myself.

  “I’m glad the children get along so well,” I say to Rita, watching them make shapes with the crusts of their pizzas.

  “Look at mine?" Lucas shouts out. “It's a whale,” he says, proudly pointing towards a vague fishy shape made from pizza crusts.

  I lean in closer to Rita and lower my voice as I speak.

  “Do you think Drew would allow me to bring Lucas along sometimes?” I dare to ask her. If anyone knows Drew as an adult, I understand it's her.

  “Oui oui...I mean, yes, you must do this,” she says a little loud.

  Even more embarrassing, she then goes on to explain my suggestion to Drew. I note he has hardly said a word to me all evening but yet his eyes have been on me every time I've looked at him.

  “I’m not sure that will work out, Rita,” he replies with a straight face. “I need Annie to be educated, not to be playing.”

  “Absurdite!” Rita announces with a frown. “That is nonsense. It is wonderful for Annie to play and learn. This must be, I insist!”

  At first, I worry that Rita might be pushing her luck with her employer. Then, when I see him shrug back at her, I realize she has some influence, especially when it comes to Annie. It seems she’s more like a mother figure to them both than an employee.

  “Yes, yes, this must be, Chrissy,” she tells me. “It is wonderful to see Annie smile again.”

  I’m about to reply when we're interrupted by a slurred and very loud voice.r />
  “Hey, Chrissy! It's me!” A man shouts out as he stumbles up the steps to the vicinity of our table. “I’ve been trying to find you, baby, and here you are."

  Oh no! It’s Paul, a guy I hoped I would never see again. I know that I must act instantly and I get up from the table to steer him away. At the same time, I notice mom and Drew speaking together. No doubt she’ll be apologizing for the intrusion. Luckily, the children haven’t noticed.

  “Paul,” I say, holding his arm as I lead him outside. “Please don’t speak to me in front of my son when you’re drunk, again!”

  “It’s your fault I’m drunk, Chrissy,” he slurs, reaching out to touch my hair but I manage to brush his hand aside. “I miss you, baby. You can’t do this to me.”

  “Paul, I’m with my family and friends, please stop this!” I say to him sternly. “Go home, you don't belong here.”

  I don’t wait for a reply and head straight back to my table. The last thing I want is for Lucas to wonder where I’ve gone. As I arrive back I put on a brave smile so the children don’t see anything is amiss. Then, I sense Paul at my back. He reaches out to put his hand on my shoulder and as I turn to brush it off he stumbles to the floor.

  Immediately Drew is out of his seat and standing over Paul. Drew has a ferocious look on his face. For a moment I thought he was going to hit him. Instead, he reaches down and helps Paul get to his feet.

  He turns to me indicating that I should sit. “Leave this to me. You stay with the children.” With that, he leads Paul outside.

  Dumbfounded, I follow Drew's instructions. Though I'm worried about what's going on outside. I exchange worried glances with my mom and Rita. Fortunately, the children seem oblivious to what's happening, which is a small blessing. After around ten minutes of waiting, my worry is increasing. As I get up off my seat I see Drew coming back inside. It's a relief to see no bloody noses or black eyes. If anything, he looks completely composed. I stand up and go to him before he reaches the table.

  “Is everything okay?” I ask, unable to keep the worry out of my voice.