Take a Chance on Me_A My Heart Channel Romance

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Take a Chance on Me_A My Heart Channel Romance Page 10

by Kaylee Baldwin


  She replied: Can’t go this weekend. And the article is due soon.

  His response came instantly. The deal was three adventures.

  Madelyn took a long, distracted drink of the Coke, regretting it almost instantly when the pepper taste hit the back of her throat hard. She coughed, irritated at Linda, now, at herself and at Chance, too.

  Why was it so important to Chance that she go on all of these adventures? Didn’t he realize how difficult this was for her? She wasn’t like him. She didn’t have a lot of money. She couldn’t pick up everything and go out of town on a whim. She had a job, a child, responsibilities. She responded back. I’ve got Oliver this weekend.

  I’ll take care of it, he wrote back.

  She shook her head, even though he wasn’t there to see it. I don’t want to leave him with someone I don’t know. And he doesn’t want to be away from me again so soon.

  She waited a few minutes, but he didn’t write her back. Maybe this article wouldn’t happen after all. With a sigh, she put her phone away and went back out to finish her shift. Things remained fast for the rest of the night, but her tips were lower than she expected. Linda collapsed into the chair beside her and pulled out her own meager tips. “There’s something in the air that brings all the cheapies out to eat.”

  “Right?” Madelyn had two tables not leave a tip at all, which, thankfully, was not a common occurrence. She stuffed her tips in her purse and stood up from the chair with a tired groan. “See you tomorrow.”

  She arrived at her mom’s house near midnight. All the lights were on and she could hear the television from the porch. Was it too much to ask that her mom put Oliver down to bed at a reasonable time and keep things quiet so he could actually sleep? Maybe so, because it seemed impossible for her mom to do it.

  She opened the door without knocking. “Mom!”

  “Back here!” her mom’s high-pitched, panicked voice responded. Madelyn raced down the hall to see her mom trying to sop up the rushing water still gushing from the washing machine. Oliver, looking exhausted, was handing her mom towel after towel.

  “What happened?” Madelyn picked up Oliver, whose feet and pants were soaking wet. He clung to her neck.

  “I was running a wash and all of a sudden water started gushing out.”

  The pain in Madelyn’s head increased. She sloshed into the laundry room, wincing at how wet her shoes were getting—it would take days to dry them out— and set Oliver on the dryer while she reached behind the washer to turn the water off.

  Her mom collapsed against the wall with a relieved sigh. “Thank you. It shouldn’t take us too long to get this cleaned up.”

  Madelyn took in the piles of wet towels and the water-saturated carpet, and exhaustion rushed upon her in one overwhelming wave. “I can’t deal with this tonight, Mom. I’ll come back in the morning when we’re all not so tired.” She picked Oliver up. He snuggled into her shoulder, sucking his thumb, something he only did when he was extra tired.

  Her mom wrung her hands. “What am I supposed to do?”

  “Close the door and pretend nothing happened.” Madelyn would love to give her mom a lecture on taking care of it herself and being independent, but she’d given that same lecture numerous times before and it always fell on deaf ears. She didn’t have the energy to do it again.

  She didn’t have the energy for anything.

  But she also didn’t have the luxury of rest, no matter how overwhelmed she felt. And it was starting to look like this would be what every day for the rest of her life looked like. One long marathon where she never, ever stopped running. Tears pricked at her eyes, but she blinked them back hard. Crying would only set her mom off more—not to mention worry Oliver.

  She left despite her mom’s protests and headed home. Oliver fell asleep in the back, but on the way, he woke up with a scared cry. “The clowns!” he whimpered, holding on to the hand she slid behind her between the seats. She gritted her teeth.

  They arrived home to the sight of a young man with two suitcases sitting near her apartment door. He glanced up from his phone, startled, and then jumped to his feet. “Are you Madelyn Stewart?”

  “Yes,” she said slowly, holding Oliver closer.

  “These are for you.” He handed her a card and left.

  “From who?” she called after him, but he didn’t answer.

  She shifted Oliver on to her other hip so she could unlock the door, and carried him straight to bed before going back to examine the suitcases. She opened the envelope first.

  Madelyn,

  This adventure is perfect for a five-year-old, too.

  Chance

  There were two plane tickets to New Orleans for next weekend—one for her and one for Oliver.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Oliver gripped Madelyn’s hand tightly as the flight attendants bustled around them, preparing for takeoff. It was the first time he’d been on a plane, her second time, and she worried she gripped his hand back just as tightly.

  She’d emailed Chance to tell him she couldn’t accept it all. It was too much: the ticket for Oliver, the brand-new suitcases with a gift card, a list of supplies she’d need to buy for her and Oliver, even the thought of seeing Chance again. But Kim had responded back explaining that the plane tickets were nonrefundable, so they might as well use them rather than have them go to waste.

  And if that weren’t enough to convince her (it wasn’t), Jason had seen the luggage still sitting by the door when he’d come to pick Oliver up and had grilled her on where they’d come from. When she’d finally told him they were from Chance for her and Oliver to go to New Orleans, he’d launched into another Madelyn-is-no-fun spiel followed by a heavy dose of “I’d kill for this opportunity,” ending on an earnest note that if she wasn’t willing to do this for herself, to at least do it for Oliver.

  And since even that wasn’t enough to get her agree to drop everything and fly to Louisiana to spend time with the one person she wanted to avoid most in the world, she’d still planned on calling the airline to see if there were any refund options. Until Oliver spoke. The sweet boy who rarely asked for more than an ice cream cone, who had been shuffled around from house to house over the last several weeks, who was content with the same cheap meals night after night and had spent who-knew-how-long helping her mom sop up water the night before. When he’d looked at those suitcases with his wide, solemn eyes and asked her who he was going to stay with when she left again, she’d caved.

  Now here they were, heading toward an adventure that had Oliver eagerly shifting around in his seat. His cherub cheeks were pink with excitement as he stared out the window. The plane taxied backwards, preparing for takeoff. He squeezed her hand.

  “Am I gonna see Chance Risk?” he asked. Her stomach twirled at his name.

  “Yes.”

  “Will I talk to him?”

  “Definitely.”

  He gave her a sneaky smile. “Am I gonna be on his show?”

  She laughed and hugged him close. “Probably not. But if you’re really well-behaved, we’ll get to watch him record an episode.”

  “Cool,” he breathed, sounding so much like Jason, she laughed again. The plane rushed down the runway, preparing for takeoff. Oliver watched out the window, in awe as the plane left the ground. Madelyn closed her eyes and felt the stress melt away with every mile she put between herself and real life.

  Madelyn grabbed their bags from the carousel and glanced around for a familiar face. When she’d gone to the Grand Canyon, Chance had reserved a rental car for her. This time, his agenda had instructed her to get a taxi to the hotel. He’d left an envelope of money for her to pay for things like this. As much as it pained her to spend any of his money, there was no other option for her. She could afford exactly nothing.

  They stepped outside into the muggy late afternoon. She inhaled the fragrant scent of magnolia, and marveled at the wisteria climbing up the pillars near the airport. It was so different than L.A. More lush, in a w
ay. Less hectic.

  She found a taxi parked in the pickup area of the airport and told the driver which hotel she was staying at. He hoisted their bags into his trunk as she and Oliver piled into the back seat, leaving the airport a few minutes later. She’d never been in a taxi before and was kind of surprised to realize it was basically a normal car.

  “Look!” Oliver pointed to a long bridge that spanned over the water.

  Her eyes were caught more on the beautiful, stately homes lining the narrow streets they passed. It didn’t take long for the driver to drop them off at the circular driveway of their hotel. She’d looked it up before they left and learned it was near the French Quarter. The infamous Bourbon Street was also within a short walking distance, but she wouldn’t be exploring it with Oliver in tow.

  Madelyn got them checked into their hotel, then insisted that Oliver rest. Neither of them had been getting enough sleep lately. He bounced around on his bed a few times before finally lying down.

  Everyone was meeting in the main lobby of the hotel in the morning to go on their adventure—which Chance kept secret once again. Didn’t he know how much she hated the unexpected?

  Oliver wiggled back and forth on his bed, as if trying to find a comfortable spot, before his little feet thumped onto the floor and Madelyn felt him climbing onto her bed. He snuggled up at her back and whispered, “I’m hungry.”

  Her stomach growled in response, and Oliver giggled. Madelyn turned to face him, and started tickling his neck. “What? Is something funny?”

  “Your tummy,” he said on breaths between his laughter. She stopped tickling him and sat up. They were both too wound up to sleep.

  “Should we find something to eat?”

  “Yeah!”

  She went into the bathroom before they left and eyed herself in the mirror. She swiped away some of her smudged mascara and pulled her hair into a low ponytail. She wore a pair of black leggings and a light cotton navy shirt dress. What it lacked in style, it made up for in comfort.

  Oliver came into the bathroom to tug on her hand. “Let’s go!”

  She laughed and let him pull her out of the room, snagging her purse on the way out. As they rode down the elevator, she pulled out her phone to see what kid-friendly, inexpensive food places were within walking distance.

  The elevator doors dinged open, and she absently followed Oliver into the lobby. He started to run. “Wait for me,” she called after him, alarmed when he didn’t stop. “Oliver!” He never ran off like this. She dropped her phone in her purse and jogged after him, pulling to an abrupt stop when she realized why Oliver had run.

  Or, more accurately, who he was running to.

  Chance was talking to the concierge and hadn’t noticed Oliver standing beside him yet.

  Oliver’s enthusiasm morphed into timidity. He looked up at Chance, and Madelyn could almost feel him gathering his courage. Part of her wanted to rush over and help him, but the other part of her knew she needed to wait. To let Oliver get out of his comfort zone. She smiled wryly at the hypocritical thought. Yes, she hated being pushed out of her comfort zone, but didn’t good parenting involve helping your children be better than you were?

  She edged closer. Chance finished up his conversation and turned to walk away.

  “Chance?” Oliver said, his voice quiet in the bustle of the hotel lobby. Chance swiveled back and looked down at Oliver, surprise written across his face.

  “Oliver, right?” He glanced over Oliver’s head. “Is your mom here?”

  “There.” Oliver waved her closer. “We’re watching you do your show tomorrow.”

  “That’s true. You’re a big fan, aren’t you?” Chance gave Oliver a warm, gentle smile that zinged her right to the core.

  “I love your show.” Some of Oliver’s nervousness was starting to wear off, but he still reached for Madelyn’s hand when she came close.

  “Hello, Madelyn,” Chance said with a formal nod. “Did your flight go okay?”

  “It did. You?”

  “Yes. I took a red eye last night.”

  Silence stretched between them. Chance was acting more offish and formal than when they’d last parted ways, but that was good. Great, even. It would help Madalyn keep her head on straight.

  “Well, we’re heading out,” she said. “See you in the morning.”

  Oliver tugged her to a stop and asked Chance, “Do you want to eat dinner with us?”

  Madelyn stepped in. “He can’t, bud. He’s got a lot he needs to get done before the show tomorrow.”

  “Actually, I’m pretty much set,” Chance said.

  “Yeah, but you’re probably meeting your team for dinner tonight.”

  “Nope.” He shrugged. “They all had their own plans.”

  She clenched her teeth and widened her eyes at him, to indicate that he needed to take the easy out she was handing him, but it only made him smile. Some of the offishness from earlier was wearing off. Not good.

  “So you can come with us?” Oliver said, alight with hope.

  “If it’s okay with your mom.”

  They both looked at Madelyn, and she knew there was no way she could tell them no. “Sure,” she said weakly. “I’m not sure where we’re going yet.”

  “Hmmm.” Chance’s eyes brightened and he turned to Oliver. “You need to try a beignet.”

  While they walked to dinner, Oliver gave Chance a play-by-play of his favorite Take a Chance episodes. Chance caught Madelyn’s eye over Oliver’s head and gave her an amused smile. Her heart softened a little more at his patience. And even more than that, he genuinely listened to Oliver rather than pretending to listen to appease him. Oliver could tell the difference, too. She’d never seen him so talkative with someone he’d just met.

  The city was alive with music and laughter and friends and families walking arm in arm. Artists and performers lined the streets, and Madelyn soon found herself succumbing to the effervescent happiness surrounding them. They stopped to watch a break-dancing group, and Oliver’s chatter halted as he got distracted watching the dancers.

  A tall, lanky man with a handful of flyers sidled up beside Madelyn. He held one out to her, and she took it. Ghost Tour. Chance moved closer to Madelyn’s side, his arm brushing against hers.

  “Did you know New Orleans is haunted?” the man said with a lilting drawl.

  “The entire city?” she asked skeptically, hoping her voice didn’t betray how hard her heart was beating at having Chance so close.

  “No. But several buildings.” He nodded his head to a close restaurant. “Including that one. The man who purchased it in the eighteenth century lived there and loved it. Until he lost it in a game of cards and hanged himself in the second story. His ghost still haunts it.”

  “Are you trying to scare me?” She glanced at the unassuming building, bursting with people. Clearly rumors of being haunted wasn’t doing anything to harm their business—maybe even helping it. Still, she shuddered.

  “No. Why?” The man paused before lowering his voice. “Are you scared?” Then, without warning, something grabbed the back of her calf.

  She let out a shriek, causing Oliver to whip his head toward her. “I’m okay,” she assured Oliver before smacking Chance’s shaking-with-laughter shoulder. “How old are you?”

  “Never too old to get a reaction.”

  “Obviously.” She rolled her eyes, but was almost grateful her racing heart was for different reasons than having Chance so close. She used the flyer to point at the tall man. “And you didn’t warn me. I don’t know if I should go on this ghost tour.”

  The man laughed and moved on to the next group.

  She stared at the flyer, intrigued by the idea of a ghost. “Want to go check it out?”

  “Do the tour with Oliver?” he asked, incredulous.

  She shrugged. “Not the tour. Let’s just check out the restaurant.” She lowered her voice to a whisper, even though Oliver’s attention was caught up in the dancers again. He’d taken
a step away from them and sat on the curb. “We won’t tell Oliver what we’re looking for.”

  “It’s not the telling I’m worried about,” he muttered.

  She paused. “Are you freaked out by the idea of a real ghost in there?”

  “I did a ghost tour a few years ago, and some crazy stuff has happened in this city.”

  He turned away, but she took his arm and pulled him to a stop. “Wait. I just need to process this. Spiders. And ghosts.”

  “Both are perfectly acceptable things to not like.”

  “Maybe you need to film a show that combines both. For the perfect theatrical tension.”

  “Remind me to not let you anywhere near my Chance Risk Live producer.”

  She laughed and hip-checked him. “I think it’s sweet.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “That spiders and ghosts freak me out?”

  “That there’s more to you than meets the eye.”

  She felt Chance watching her as she leaned down to let Oliver know it was time to go. Oliver danced while they strolled, trying out some of the twists the street dancer had been doing.

  “Lookin’ good,” Chance told him, doing a few of his own dance moves. He wasn’t half bad, to be honest.

  They arrived at the cafe and found a seat outside. The air had cooled with the evening, and the streetlamps lit up with yellow lights along the street.

  Madelyn ordered soup and a sandwich for her and Oliver to share, self-conscious about using Chance’s money to pay. Oliver’s gaze darted from sight to sight. The jazz band getting set up on the corner near where they were eating. People around them talking in tons of different languages and accents. And plates piled high with small powder-sugared donuts were continuously delivered to the tables around them.

  Oliver ate his half of the sandwich like he hadn’t had anything to eat in weeks. Madelyn watched him eagerly eat, a bittersweet feeling washing over her. Time was flying away quicker than she expected. She slid the other half of the sandwich toward him, which he dove into, and she slowly sipped on her gumbo. “This is delicious.” A little spicy for Oliver, but perfect for her.

 

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