Love's Chance

by Red Rose Publishing

  The ride in the elevator was silent. She watched him in the shiny surface of the elevator doors. He leaned against the back wall with his eyes closed. His arms crossed his body. He didn’t budge until the elevator bells chimed.

  She kicked her shoes off as soon as she entered her room. Snatching her pajamas from her bed, she walked into the bathroom to change. Chance stretched out in one of the lounge chairs on her balcony.

  “Chance, are you sleeping?”

  Eyes closed, his head turned in her direction. They opened, and he spoke. “No. Just thinking.”

  She sat in the chair next to his. “Thinking about what?”

  “I’m sorry about the other night.” He sat up. “I didn’t mean to disrespect you. I wanted you—”

  “I...”

  “Let me finish. I am attracted to you. I understand you want to keep it professional.” He paused.

  “Chance, you don’t owe me an apology.” She left her seat, and joined him on his. Pressing him backwards, she leaned her body into his. His body resisted, but she pushed harder. Her kisses traveled up his neck to his jaw-line, she gently rubbed her cheek against his. With a slight tilt, she met his lips with hers. He didn’t respond. Pulling back, she said, “Kiss me.”

  His hands pushed aside her robe. They slid up, and down the silk fabric of her pajamas. The heat of his palms warmed her skin through the material. He pulled her into him, and leaned back on the lounge chair. He kissed her. Tender and sweet at first, but each tongue thrust went deeper. His grip on her body became firmer. The feel of his lips awakened something in side of her she hadn’t intended. She wanted all of him.

  Too soon, he let her go, and put space between them. “You’ve been drinking.”

  She heard him, but she focused on his mouth, and touched her fingers to her own as she remembered the feel of his. “I’m not drunk.”

  “Two nights ago, you kicked me out of your bed, but tonight it’s okay.” He stood. “I wanted to talk. I wanted you to know what was on my mind. I needed to make sure you understood the other night was about more than sex.”

  She wrapped her robe around her tighter. “I know, and I’m not drunk. I missed you.”

  He lifted her up in his arms, and carried her to her bed. “You should miss me.” He lowered her to the bed. “But I should leave.”

  “Again?”

  “Yes. I’m flying out in the morning. I wanted us to talk before I left. I’ll be in Harrisburg when you get back.” His hand caressed her cheek, and then drifted to her neck following along the collar of her robe. “If you still feel like you do now when you get home I’ll finish what we started.” The touch of his lips against her forehead melted her. She reached for him, but he pulled out of her embrace. “Sinclair, I don’t think I could have another night like last night. I want you to be sure about what you’re doing.”

  He left.

  As soon as her head hit the pillow, the room began to swirl. She closed her eyes to stop the movement. Her stomach roiled, she clamped her hand over her mouth and ran from the bed to the bathroom.

  Days had passed, but not enough to make his memory fade. Her voice made all of the feelings crash to the front of his mind. “Hi Chance. I’m back from Vegas” Soft and hesitant, she continued. “How are those numbers looking?”

  “Good. When did you get back?”

  He knew she’d been right about Vegas. At least, the first night, she’d been right. He hadn’t had a relationship with a woman in years. Sex, yes, but relationship, no. Since his father’s death, he’d moved around a lot. Carni’s contract with his company was for one year. Their software was the best out there, but it still took a lot of convincing. They had extended the contract with ScanData verses going to their competitor under the condition he stayed, and they wanted to stretch it out again. The request for his extension came from the V.P. of Perishables himself, but Chance hadn’t made a decision one way or the other. He would probably leave. She was right to tell him no the first time, but telling him yes was the problem. For both of them.

  “About an hour ago.”

  “So, you came straight to the office? You didn’t take a day off?” He was annoyed at the way she treated herself.

  “No. But I could use some sleep,” she sighed.

  “I knew you’d come straight to work from the plane. You really should have taken a day off. At least a half day. You don’t have to be here all of the time.” He took a breath. “Anyway, I sent you an email about fifteen minutes ago.”

  “Chance, you don’t have to worry about me. Thank you for the reports. I’ll take a look and stop by if I have any questions.”

  “Sinclair...”

  “Yes.”

  Silence filled the phone lines.

  “Sinclair, about Veg—”

  “Hey, what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas…right?”

  “So, I’ll just wait to hear from you.”

  “Yes, I’ll stop by as soon as I look at everything.”

  “In that case, I guess I’ll prepare to stay until what...about midnight,” he said playfully.

  “Midnight...maybe more like one or two in the morning. You might as well grab a cot and a blanket.”

  “You mean two cots, right?” he asked.

  “Yeah, right. Two.”

  “I’ll be waiting.”

  “Okay.”

  Chance stared at his wristwatch. Six-thirty. He should’ve left an hour ago. All day he’d worked on software upgrades. His chair squeaked as he leaned back to stretch out his body.

  Checking the time again, he realized Sinclair hadn’t been around. Quickly, he dialed her extension, 7-4-3-1. No answer.

  The numbers on the report were self-explanatory. She didn’t really need him to explain them.

  Standing as he shut-off his computer, he heard a light tap on his door.

  “Come in,” said Chance as he walked toward the door. The door opened before he reached it.

  Sinclair stood in the doorway. “Your door has been closed all day. Is it too late?”

  Jet-lagged, and beautiful. Her blonde locs were pulled back into a bun. Her tiny metal burgundy glasses rested on her nose. Her solid frame was accentuated by the wine-colored wrap dress she wore. He fought against the urges inside of him telling him to grab her, pull her inside, lock the door and let her know it was not too late. Instead, he said, “Oh, no. Sorry, you should’ve knocked. I had to upgrade my programs. I needed some quiet.”

  Soft furrows in her forehead softened as she said, “Oh. The IT guys don’t do that for you.”

  “No, my software is from my company. It’s different, but anyway you know you’re my favorite customer. I could’ve used the break.”

  Her creamy pecan hued cheeks reddened. “If I keep you a minute past seven-thirty then dinner’s on me.”

  Chance watched as her full-lips curved into a subtle bowed grin. The plum lipstick she wore emphasized her lips; they looked ripe and perfect for tasting. And he remembered how they tasted. “Deal. But you know I’m an expensive date.”

  “So, you mean the gas station down the street isn’t good enough?” she said through broken laughter.

  “What? That’s some of the best food around. Have you had their rotisserie chicken? And they even serve it to you in little frying pans.” Chance cupped his hands together simulating the size of the pan as he gestured toward Sinclair.

  “Sad.” Sinclair’s drooped head shook back and forth in mock denial.

  “I’ve seen you over there a few times. Don’t try to fake it.”

  “Okay, I admit I’ve crept over there a few times for the fantastic free movies. You know, get lost.”

  How often had she needed to ‘get lost’? “So, you’re inviting me to dinner and a movie?”

  “I think I can afford that. The reports you sent me look great.” She followed him across his office to his grey aluminum desk. “Shifting the extra stock around to the other stores was perfect.”

  “Do you have the print out or should
I turn on my computer?”

  “I have them here.” She showed him the papers she held at her side.

  Chance motioned for her to sit. He stood behind her as he went through the numbers on the report. Standing behind her was a bad idea. His eyes drifted to her cleavage. The silky textured fabric lay snug against her breasts hiding them from him.

  With a tap against her elbow, he raised her hands and the papers in them in an effort to divert his attentions. Dragging his finger across the paper, he said, “Take a look here. The closer we get to the big college towns the higher the sales. But in the smaller community college areas, we’re still doing well moving the national college product.”

  “Exactly. We’ll have to look at the split of our next buy. I’ll need more of the national product in the smaller towns.”

  “We could test it in a few stores if you want. Food is easy. You have everything: plates, clothing, DVDs, etc. It can be tricky, but I think it would work.”

  “Testing it would be good. I don’t want to run with it chain-wide and have poor numbers again.”

  “I understand.”

  She flipped through her papers as she mumbled, “Yeah, too many eyes watching.”

  “You know if you ever feel like too many eyes are watching...like you need to ‘get lost’ I like getting lost. In fact, some might say it’s my specialty.”

  “Your specialty? Who says that? Women?”

  For a year and a half, Chance had worked as an on-site consultant for Carni’s. He liked being in the field. If he worked in the corporate office for his company—Scan Data—back in Long Island, New York he’d probably be dealing with the same crap. But moving around to different off-site locations he didn’t have to deal with it. He hated the crabs trapped in a barrel mentality, each one clawing over the other one to reach the top. For what, just to be eaten.

  “Jealous?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean I gave you a chance.”

  “A chance to see your disappearing act first hand.” A flicker of remembrance crossed her face casting a quick shadow.

  The sadness. The pain. The desire. Who knows? He lifted her chin. Her lips met his, and he kissed her. He spun her around in the chair to face him, and he kissed her again. Only because he ran out of breath did he pull away. “So, what’s for dinner?”

  She blinked, and focused on the clock. “Aw, come on, it’s seven forty-six.”

  “Yes, that’s sixteen minutes past seven-thirty. Fifteen more minutes than one.”

  “You’re going to hold me to that?”

  “Yep. Besides, I would’ve helped you out without the bribe. But you offered and I accepted.” Chance turned, and flicked the light switch throwing the small beige office into darkness. The office building’s lights had already begun their nightly shut off routine.

  “Yeah, yeah.”

  He reached for her in the darkness, and pulled her to him. “You’re a woman of your word, right?” His chin brushed against the top of her hair. He inhaled. He didn’t know what the scent reminded him of...coconut maybe.

  “Always.”

  “Well, then?”

  He led her toward the door with his hand around her wrist.

  “Okay, let’s go. I can’t be out all night with you. My boyfriend might get jealous.”

  “Boyfriend!”

  The surprise in his voice couldn’t be controlled.

  “Jealous?” Her small almond shaped eyes danced playfully in the subdued lighting.

  “Why would I be jealous? Do you see all of the women falling over themselves to knock on my door every day?” Chance waved his free arm around in the air as if there were an audience. “But I chose who I want.”

  “There may be many, but none of them is me.” She removed his hand from her wrist, and walked down the narrow hallway.

  He watched her full bottom sway from side to side underneath the flowing fabric as the distance between them grew. She was right.

  Chance watched Sinclair load her plate with spinach, cucumbers, onions and pasta salad. He threw everything on the salad bar onto his plate, and then he followed her back to their table where they each had a petite skillet shaped plate waiting with their main entrees. Sitting across the table from her, he couldn’t stop imaging the feel of her lips against his. The only reason he didn’t strip her clothes from her body in Vegas was because she was drunk.

  “Chance, are you listening to me?” She stared at him over the rim of her water glass.

  “About Vegas.”

  She sat her glass back on the table. “I thought we settled that already.”

  “Were you tipsy or did I walk away for no reason? Just then, in my office, you didn’t pull away.”

  Her hand rested on top of his. “I did have a few drinks, but I knew what I wanted.”

  “So, will I get that chance again?”

  “I think it might get too complicated.”

  “Meaning, what? No?”

  They stared each other, neither moved or said anything.

  “Maybe when I leave here, we can keep in touch or something, but now is the wrong time.”

  “So, I missed my chance.” He stacked up empty plates and silverware. “You have your concerns, and I have mine. That doesn’t mean we couldn’t...”

  She stood, and rubbed her hands down the length of her body smoothing her dress as she did. “Couldn’t what?”

  “I know this is a little confusing, but not acting on what we’ve both been feeling could cause us just as many problems. While we’re both here, we could keep each other company.”

  “So, sex?”

  “Not just sex. Companionship.”

  “Companionship?” Scanning the room, her eyes landed on the sign advertising the free movie of the evening. “Have you seen The Lost Boys?”

  Without finesse, she avoided his question. “Huh?” She wasn’t ready, yet. Hell, he didn’t know if he was ready for what he proposed. He followed her lead. “What the original?” he read the sign in disbelief.

  “Looks like it. It’s a good one, even if it’s old.”

  He held her hand and led her toward the rear of the restaurant through tables filled with men of different races clad in soiled wrinkled clothing: jeans, t-shirts, and jogging suits. Men passed them with keys weighted down with oversized chains attached to plastic nametags to unlock tucked away little laundry rooms, showers, and a small steam sauna. This place really did have everything a trucker needed.

  “Do you like horror movies?”

  “Not really, but I don’t remember this one being too bad. And the guy with the black hair was cute.”

  “Really?”

  The theatre only had about twenty seats, and nearly every seat was taken. He found two together near the center, and guided her toward them. After they sat, he raised the armrest between them, pulled Sinclair close to his side, and sat back.

  He leaned in close to her ear, and whispered. “If you get scared, I’ve got you.”

  She smiled up into his eyes, and whispered back. “I know.”

  Chapter Three

  Sharon, Sinclair’s secretary, bit the left corner of her bottom lip while her fire engine red acrylics clicked at her keyboard.

  “Sharon, could you check with Cindy, Raquel and the other category managers to see if we can all meet tomorrow to go over next week’s ad? I’ve got some changes I’d like to make.”

  “Sinclair, Hon, I don’t think they’ll be able to make it.”

  “No, why?”

  “Because of the meeting—”

  The flush of red slowly crawling up Sharon’s neck to her face clued Sinclair of Sharon’s mistake. Sharon’s focus on the Excel spreadsheet she’d been working on for hours had revealed something. But what?

  “Meeting?”

  “Uhh, yeah. Their monthly networking luncheon.” Pity hung in the air between the two women.

  “I’ve never heard of—”

  Sharon had been kind to Sinclair. Too many times,
Sinclair had apologized to her for not attending one of her dinner parties or invitation to the movies. But she didn’t want to be a charity case for her secretary or anyone else. Fifty-two, gray-haired and grandmotherly in a Dolly Parton sort of way Sharon didn’t fear for her job or anything else when it came to Sinclair. In fact, she would even say Sharon actually liked her. And she knew Sharon loved her for teaching her new computer programs.

  The surprising information rang in Sinclair’s ears. Unsure of how to handle it, she hid her emotions from her face. At least she hoped she did. “Check on the day after.”

  “Sinclair, Hon.” Sharon’s voice begged.

  “Sharon, I’ve got a meeting in a few minutes. That’ll be the last one for me today.” Head high, Sinclair turned on her heels and stomped toward her next meeting. “You can head out early if you like.”

  “Thank you. But I’ll set up the meeting before I leave.”

  “Great. See you tomorrow.”

  Hours later, Sinclair roamed through the tables at the Firehouse Restaurant until she found her favorite spot. It was empty; she slid onto the chair, and flipped open her book.

  “Sinclair.”

  Startled, she snapped her head up from the book she’d been trying to finish for weeks. The quick action bounced her glasses on her nose and knocked her long, thin, blonde dreadlocks off her shoulder.

  “Chance.” His huge dimpled smile warmed her. It took the edge off of her day. The aquamarine colored shirt he wore enhanced the intensity of his stare. Sinclair glanced over every curve of muscle under the fabric of his cotton shirt. When her gaze reached his black, studded belt buckle resting on his hips, she jerked her eyes back to his.

  “I hope I’m not disturbing you, but I saw you wandering around the restaurant—” He pulled out a chair, and sat. “—I thought you might be looking for someplace to sit. But I see you found one.”

  She followed his head as he motioned in the direction of a large booth across the room.

  “Always looking out for me, huh?”

  At 5'4" tall, and 160 pounds she could fit the small pub table, but Chance’s larger 6'2" frame couldn’t. He searched for a comfortable position; his granite legs banged against hers.