Love's Chance

by Red Rose Publishing

  “Chance, maybe we should move to your booth?”

  He sprang from his tiny chair, and assisted Sinclair with hers.

  They moved through the renovated fire station’s narrow aisles across the restaurant to Chance’s larger booth, Sinclair focused on the table and ignored the awed stares and muted voices of the other restaurant patrons. Why were they staring anyway? Every other couple she saw was interracial.

  “You think they all think we’re the most beautiful couple in the room or what?”

  She couldn’t stop laughing as she slipped into the booth. “So, it wasn’t just me.”

  “No. It was you. Do you own a mirror?”

  “I own several mirrors.”

  “Then you know it was you.” He slid in beside her, and stretched out his legs underneath the table. “Now, this is much better.”

  “Maybe or maybe it was you.”

  “Me. So, you’re jealous again?”

  Sinclair buried her nose in the menu. She’d eaten at the Firehouse a million times, but never with Chance. She could handle the stares. As an outsider, it happened a lot since she’d moved to Harrisburg—restaurants, clubs, or the grocery store. But she had to admit she noticed all of the women staring at Chance. She wasn’t jealous, but she didn’t like it. “No, I’m not jealous again.”

  “Umm. Well, I was.” She followed Chance’s glare toward a table of men beside their booth. The men picked up their conversation, and focused waved over a waitress. “You should’ve called me to let me know you needed an escort tonight. What man wouldn’t want you on his arm?”

  “Chance, you are too much.”

  “I’m serious.”

  “I wasn’t sure I was coming here. I just didn’t feel like going home.”

  “Rough day?”

  “No, it’s just...you know how it is.”

  His arm fell from the back of the bench. He tugged at one of her locs nearest him. “Tell me.”

  Sinclair sank into the cushions of the booth behind her. “I’m the new girl on the block. I guess its part of the package.”

  “What do you mean?” He dropped his menu to the table as he waited for her answer.

  “Chance, I don’t know if you would understand.” She averted her eyes attempting not to let him see tears behind her glasses.

  “Why wouldn’t I?”

  “I don’t know.” She didn’t want to sound like some crazy paranoid person.

  “What do you mean you don’t know?

  “Today was a long day. That’s all.”

  “Sinclair, you’ve got to know you can trust me. After everything.” He tugged on that same loc. Wrapping it around his finger.

  His eyes showed hurt and anger. Was it aimed at her?

  “I know, but can you understand how it is for me. I’m one of only three Black women with a manager’s title. The only Category Manager. One is in accounting, and the other is the Manager of Diversity. I’m trying to fit in, but I don’t think it’s working.”

  The waiter returned to the table. Chance ordered grilled chicken salads for both of them with Sinclair’s approval.

  The anger she held back earlier rose up. Tears filled her eyes.

  Chance reached for her hand resting on her lap. He cupped it inside of his. “Why?”

  A tear fell, she sniffed, and sighed. “Today, I found out the other women category managers have a monthly network meeting. But I’ve never been invited.”

  “What! I’ve never heard of it.”

  “Me either, at least not until today when Sharon let it slip.”

  His hand moved from her hair to her tears. He brushed them from her cheeks. “Sinclair, I don’t know what to say.”

  She shook her head. “There’s nothing to say. You didn’t do it.”

  His fingers softly stroked the back of her hand. “I hope you don’t think everyone is like them.”

  “I know everyone’s not, but I don’t seem to be able to break through the barriers.”

  “Well, you’ve got me.”

  It had taken him some time before he felt accepted by the people of Central Pennsylvania and Carni’s. People didn’t trust him right away. Even though he worked for Scan Data, they wanted to be sure he didn’t want their jobs. He never had a problem with women, but if he wanted to hang out at a sports bar, or grab a drink he ended up doing it alone or with his pal Craig.

  He didn’t like seeing her in pain.

  “I guess so.” She smiled weakly.

  She looked exhausted, and sad. He wanted to see her smile, he didn’t know what it’d take, but he knew he’d do it.

  “Anytime you need some company give me a call. I don’t mind being your emergency date.”

  “Date? This is not a date.”

  “Not a date. The two of us are here in a restaurant. There’s food. What would you call it?”

  “Hey, we just bumped into each other.”

  “Sure. A date.” He couldn’t stop himself from laughing as he watched the panic-stricken look on her face grow.

  “It’s okay, I won’t tell anybody if you don’t,” he whispered.

  Slowly her sad expression was replaced by a pensive smile.

  “What am I going to do with you?”

  “I’ve got some ideas.”

  Her desert sand complexion darkened. She dropped her head, and her golden dreadlocks hid her face.

  Brushing her hair away, he placed his hand underneath her chin raising her head, guiding it back to meet his gaze. “Don’t do that.”

  “What?”

  “Hide your face from me. I was just joking. Well, a little. You know I’m attracted to you. Walking away from you in Vegas was hard. Nothing for me has changed, but I explained that at dinner the other night.”

  “I know. And Vegas was hard for me, too.” She grabbed his hand under her chin to move it, but instead, she just held on. “We don’t need to talk about it here.” Her eyes darted over the room. “And, I wasn’t hiding. You caught me off guard that time.”

  “Why do you care so much about other people? I don’t.”

  “I just need this job. I need it to finish my M.B.A. I don’t want to complicate things.”

  “Complication. You use that word a lot?”

  He knew what she meant, but he didn’t want to hear it. In fact, it pissed him off.

  “Come on Chance, stop it. Please,” pleaded Sinclair.

  “Yeah, yeah okay. You know what…change of subject. Some friends and I are going to play paintball in a few weeks. You should come along.”

  He was angry, but what was he going to do about it? He didn’t plan on being in Harrisburg much longer anyway. But his body and his mind were having a hell of a fight.

  Relief flooded her face. “Paintball? Do I look like the paintball kind of girl?”

  “You should think about it. It’s a lot of fun.”

  “Really? I don’t know. Maybe.”

  “It’s a good way to let off some steam.”

  “Now, I’m interested.”

  “Okay.”

  After the waiter came to their table for the second time to let them know the restaurant was closing, Sinclair boxed her uneaten food, and they left.

  “Are you sure you don’t want me to follow you home?”

  “I’m sure.”

  “Thanks for the date.”

  “This wasn’t a date,” she said with less surety in her voice.

  If she was honest with herself, this was the second best date she’d had since she moved to Harrisburg, Pennsylvania.

  In front of him in the underground parking lot, Sinclair once again lost herself in her thoughts. She’d never even considered dating a white guy before, unless she counted Brad Pitt, Keanu Reeves, Jude Law, and of course Colin Ferrell. Okay, maybe a few. Chance O’Malley would give all of them a run for their money. But he was not what she left Georgia to find.

  Although her parents were sixty plus years young, she wanted to be able to take care of them. Her parents spent most of thei
r money on her and her Grandmother. Their small soul food restaurant—Cornbread Kitchen—was all they had.

  She was in Pennsylvania because of them.

  “Okay, so let’s agree to disagree. I see it as a date, and you don’t. In fact, it’s our second date. If we don’t count Vegas. What should we call it?”

  “What?”

  “Yeah, you treated me to dinner and a movie the other night, remember. And tonight I bought yours. And there was Vegas.”

  “Vegas…forget it. And neither occasion was a date...then or now,” she protested.

  “Okay, whatever. I know the truth,” he smiled.

  “Yeah, so do I.”

  He leaned in towards her. She jumped backwards, and bounced off her car door into his cement stomach.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  “Yes, just—”

  His stare locked onto hers. In that moment, she couldn’t remember why she’d said no to him about anything. The only thing she wanted was for him to always look at her the way he did at that moment. He wanted her, and she could feel it.

  “Just what? Nervous?”

  Not nervous. Aroused. “—Nothing. I’ve really got to go. I’m tired.” In retreat, she opened her door and eased behind the wheel.

  She watched him in her rearview mirror as she drove away.

  Her high beams didn’t do much for the dark highway. At any moment, she expected a deer to dart across the road in front of her, stop, point and laugh at her and the deer whistle.

  The flashing orange signs ahead leaped out of the darkness. The orange cones blocking off the exits leading up to hers were strewn across the road like an obstacle course. She focused on distinguishing between the paved road and the rocky dirt shoulder.

  At her exit, she drove through a gap in the cones. Instantly, she felt the right side of her car leave the paved road. Her car slid to a stop. Stuck half on, and half off the unpaved road the wheels of her VW Bug spun pointlessly when she stepped on the gas. It was nearly midnight, and she didn’t know when she could expect another car to drive by.

  As her hazard lights faded, she continued to attempt to reach AAA.

  No answer. Harrisburg hated her.

  Nervously, she stepped out of her car. Checking the lock one last time, she headed toward 83 south.

  The echo of her shoes against the asphalt paced her thoughts; the black fabric of her pants swept against her ankles as she walked.

  Why did I move here? What was I thinking? I don’t know a sole. Someone could jump out of these trees and grab me.

  The bright lights from the oncoming vehicle blinded her; she jumped off of the road and fell to the ground. The red truck turned sharply away from her, and came to a dead stop.

  “Hello.”

  “Who’s there?” she whimpered.

  “Sinclair?”

  “Yes,” she hesitated. “Chance?”

  “Sinclair, are you okay?” he asked getting out of his car. “I didn’t see you until the last minute. Why are you walking on the side of the road at night?”

  “Chance, why are you here?”

  “Going home. Why are you walking on the side of the road?” he repeated with irritation in his voice.

  The words tumbled out of her mouth. “My car. I ran off the road. It’s stuck. I can’t get AAA.” She bent and massaged her ankle with her hand.

  Chance’s hands ran up and down her body. He gently squeezed while he examined her. “Can you stand? Are you hurt badly?” He didn’t wait for a response. As she straightened he lifted her into his arms, and walked towards his truck.”

  “I can stand. I don’t think I’m hurt, just a few scrapes. I’m okay.”

  “So, why were you rubbing your ankle?” Lowering her gently to her feet, he opened his car door and then he picked her up again placing her in the passenger seat. He drove his car next to where hers sat on the side of the road. He hopped out of the truck. He rounded his truck, stopped at the rear and searched until he found what he wanted, a flashlight. After a quick inspection of her car, he returned to his earlier position beside her.

  As he drove away, he said, “It should be okay overnight. I’ll come back and get it in the morning. I’ve got a friend who owns a tow truck company.”

  “I’m canceling AAA in the morning.”

  He took her cell phone. After typing in something he gave it back to her.

  “What did you do?”

  “Next time you need help, you call me. You’re lucky I decided to take the highway. On a regular day, I drive through the city.”

  “Lucky? I can take care of myself.”

  “If so, then why were you stuck on the side of the road? And, I’m not saying you can’t take care of yourself. I’m asking that you call me and let me know if you need help.”

  She felt like her father was chastising her.

  “You don’t have to babysit me Chance.”

  “I’m not trying to baby-sit anybody.”

  “I’ll be alright. Next time I’ll pay attention to what I’m doing, and I won’t run off the road.”

  “Sinclair, why do you make things so difficult?”

  “Now, I’m difficult,” she replied, indignant.

  “The only thing I’m trying to say is that I can be a friend.”

  “I don’t need a friend. I needed AAA.”

  He didn’t respond to her statement. “How does your ankle feel? Do you need me to take you to the hospital?”

  “No. If it feels worse in the morning I can get myself there.” She knew he was just being nice, but she was mad, and he was there. Why did she move to Pennsylvania?

  “How?”

  “What do you mean, how?”

  Chance’s eyes never left the road. “I mean, your car is on the side of the road, and you don’t know anybody here.”

  “Have you ever heard of a taxi?” she said smartly.

  “Okay, okay, I give up. Where do you live?”

  “Hampton Hill Road off of Locust Lane.”

  “Sinclair, why are you so upset?”

  “I’m not.”

  “You sound like you are,” he said.

  “Well, I’m not.”

  Chance pulled the truck onto the side of the road; he put the car in park. His gaze never left hers. Softly, he said, “I know what it’s like to be alone. My mother left when I was young, and my father...well my father died—he was stabbed a couple of years ago.”

  She’d known him for how long, and she didn’t know any of that. “Your mother left. Your father was stabbed.”

  “It’s a long story, but I’ve been on my own for a long time. So, I understand, but you don’t have to keep everybody at arm’s length.”

  “I didn’t mean to sound ungrateful.” The truth was she felt like a jerk. He’d just picked her up on the side of the road. Aside from Sharon, he was her only friend. “I really am thankful.”

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  “No, I mean—”

  “Really, it’s okay. I’ve been there.”

  “I’m not worried about fitting in. I just want to do my job, and get out of here in a few months.”

  “Okay, but you can’t tell me that while you’ve been here that you haven’t gotten a little lonely.”

  “I don’t spend enough time here to get lonely. Every weekend, I go and visit some of my college friends in New York or D.C.”

  “So, you don’t get tired of driving all around? Or of not having anybody here to spend time with?”

  “No.”

  “Then why were you so sad at dinner?”

  “I wasn’t sad. I was angry.”

  “Well, maybe you’re different from me because I got tired of it.

  She did, too.

  “Chance, I—thank you for helping me out.”

  “Sinclair, if you give me a chance I could be a friend. Everybody needs a friend, but—”

  “I do not. At least not the kind of friend you’re talking about. I don’t want any problems at work. Remem
ber the banquet. Do you want to have that every day at work?”

  “I don’t really care what anybody thinks about me. I can’t believe you do.”

  “I’m here for a reason. I need to use this job as a springboard to the next thing. I don’t plan on being here for very long.”

  “Me either.”

  What? Chance is leaving? “You’re leaving? Where? When?”

  He turned from the road to face her. “Why?” He turned back to the road. “You don’t want me in your bed or as a friend. Right?” A smile curved his lips.

  She turned to stare out a window as he drove. “I just thought that...”

  “Sinclair you know I’m a contractor. I don’t know if I’m going to stay or not.”

  “If you leave, where will you go?” Questions rolled off of her tongue without her control.

  Chance placed a hand on her thigh. “I’m not sure, yet.”

  Heat from the touch of his hand on her thigh conflicted with the pain from her ankle. “Hmm.”

  “Sinclair...”

  She didn’t want to hear anything else; she removed his hand from her thigh. “I understand, and you understand what I mean. I want to go back to Georgia. With the experience I’ll gain from this job I’ll be able to go back and maybe help my parents expand their restaurant. Maybe help them franchise.”

  Chance put the car in drive and pulled back into traffic. “Which condo is yours?” he asked as he drove into her condo community.”

  “809.”

  His truck idled in front of her condo. He exited the truck and rounded it to her door. His arms slipped underneath her body, and he hoisted her up.

  “You don’t have to carry me inside. I can make it on my own.”

  “What’s wrong? You don’t want me to see the inside of your home? Is it really messy or something?” He laughed as he walked down the sidewalk towards her door.

  “No, it’s just that there’s no need.”

  “You really don’t want to be alone with me, huh?”

  “What?”

  “Yeah, I think you’re afraid you won’t be able to control yourself if we’re alone.”

  “You are really cocky, aren’t you?”

  “I think it’s the truth. Just like before. You’re scared,” he persisted.

  Her keys clanged against each other as she opened the door.

  “I am not scared of you.” She repositioned herself in his arms.