by Jill James
CHAPTER SEVEN
Bennett College Library
Chase stared at his watch for the twentieth time in as many minutes. Their third tutoring session and Darcy Bennett was late again. He started gathering up his books at the library table as the door slammed open and hot air swirled into the air-conditioned room as the cold air was sucked out. He didn't need to look up to see Darcy had finally decided to grace him with her presence. He'd thought the first time she just had forgotten the time. By today, the third time, he realized Darcy had no concept of timeliness.
"I'm so sorry," she huffed out, throwing herself into the chair across the table with a creak of leather and rollers on carpet. "Basketball practice ran over."
She smelled of perspiration with a rose scent lingering underneath. Her skin glistened and her cheeks were painted with a bright-red flush of exercise. Her long hair was swept into a ponytail, with curls falling on her shoulders. Her smile didn't reach her eyes where worry pushed her forehead into rows of furrows.
The worry in her eyes was the only thing stopping Chase from slamming his books into his bag and leaving Darcy Bennett to pass or fail on her own. Their past two study sessions showed the woman had no head for business. She wasn't stupid, but anything business related seemed to put her to sleep.
"Why do you even bother?" he asked, opening a book and getting the pad of paper and pencils lined up above it.
She shrugged her shoulders, the long hair sweeping across her breasts. "Mom, dad, big business. Like I have a choice."
He swallowed deeply as the strands of hair caressed the breasts straining against her thin T-shirt. "Everyone has a choice. With your family's money, you could be anything you wanted. Why business if it isn't what you want?"
She sighed and picked up one of his pencils. Her long fingers twirled it as she stared into space. "I'm an only child. From a long line of only children. The Bennett Foundation is my responsibility once my parents pass on. I can't let more than a hundred years of history just fall apart under my care. I won't know if I'm being ripped off if I don't know the business of business. Even if it is as boring as watching paint dry."
He took a deep breath and stared into her eyes. "Then you have to commit to this. No one can do it for you, unless you are willing to be a token figurehead and let people rip you off left and right."
Darcy slammed the pencil down on the table and stared right back at him. "I'm no figurehead. I will run the Bennett Foundation."
Chase stuck his hand out. She smiled and shook his hand. Her eyes glared with determination. He prayed it would be enough to see her through endless business classes and finals.
Hours passed as Darcy alternated from glee as understanding cost accounting to despair with her head on her folded arms at contract law. He closed the law book and concentrated on drilling her on the basics to help her pass their upcoming test. His stomach grumbled as the light dimmed in the library and the lights came on to shine across the polished tables.
Her gaze shot to his with panic in her eyes. "We can't quit yet. I have to pass the next test in Professor White's class. He's threatened to drop me from the class if I don't get at least eighty percent on the next two tests."
The tables around them cleared as the others filtered out of the room. Friday night on campus was not spent in the library. Ms. Springer, the librarian came up to them and handed her keycard to Chase. "You'll lock up, Mr. Thanos, as usual? Just leave my keycard in my mailbox in the office."
Darcy stared as the older woman grabbed her purse and turned off the outlying lights in the room until their table stood as an island of light in the dim room. "What did she mean, as usual?"
Chase coughed and stared at his book. His face heated in a flush. "I'm here most nights studying. Ms. Springer decided it was easier to let me lock up instead of being stuck here when she could be home with Mr. Fluffy."
She laughed. "Mr. Fluffy?"
"Yep, Big white cat. She has pictures in her wallet and everything."
Darcy's phone started pinging with messages, reminding him the young woman was not a lonely, older, cat lady but a sexy, popular student. She pushed the off button and the sound died.
"Don't you need to see who that is?"
"Doesn't matter," she replied, flipping pages to the next chapter.
Smiling, a smug feeling filled him at the thought of her spending time with him instead of football players and fraternity presidents. Until he was brought back to Earth with her questions about cost accounting and realized she only wanted him for his brains. It didn't matter, he told himself. He was in this to get a new laptop, not a new girlfriend.
Time passed in a rush as he taught and she listened, asking questions to anything she didn't understand. As they moved through the lessons her questions came less and less and her excitement for discussing the work grew. By the time they reached the end of the lesson, Darcy had him questioning everything he knew about accounting as her ideas outpaced his own at how to run a business. Why not? The Bennett Foundation had to be lightyears away from Thanos Furniture.
"I think you're ready for a practice test," he announced, tearing off a page from his notebook.
The pencil snapped in her hand, the jagged edge poking her palm. The pieces fell to the table at her cry of pain. He came around the table and grabbed her hand. A line slashed across her hand, filling up with bright, red blood.
She yanked her hand back and reached into her bag, pulling out a dingy shirt. He pulled it away from her. "We have to at least clean it first."
He walked over to the librarian's counter and moved to the other side. Squatting down, he came up with a white case with a red cross on the lid
Darcy laughed. "It's just a scratch. I'm not bleeding to death."
"Humor me," he insisted. "It's a lead pencil. We'll clean it up and put a bandage. You can sit still long enough for that, can't you?"
She huffed and slammed into the seat. "Fine, Doctor Thanos. Fix me." Her voice turned low and sultry.
Darcy placed her hand, palm up, on the table, leaning in with her breasts resting on the table inches from her hand.
Chase swallowed and then swallowed again. He stared as her dark eyes glittered with mischief. She knew exactly what she was doing. He placed the first-aid kit on the table and squatted in front of her. He pulled a brown bottle out and opened it.
"This is going to hurt."
Other than a small hiss she sat perfectly still. "It hurt a lot more when the doctor fixed my dislocated shoulder after I skied into a tree in Vail. It was almost worth it to see the look on Jillian's face when it snapped back into place."
"Who's Jillian?" he asked, winding gauze around her hand and tying it off on the back of her hand.
"Jillian Michele. She always goes to Vail with us."
He gulped air and starting coughing at her casual use of the name of the last president's daughter. As if he needed a reminder that Darcy moved in a whole other world than he did. His job was to tutor her. Nothing more.
Moving the first-aid kit to the side, he handed her another pencil. Her fingers shook as she took it into her own hand.
"You aren't afraid of a test, are you?"
The color drained from her face. He silently chastised himself. Lots of people hated tests. Some even feared them. If Darcy's face was any indication, some people were terrified.
"I did fine in high school," she stammered out. "College is just so much harder than I thought it would be." A shaky laugh escaped her. "I thought I would breeze through. I mean, come on, my family owns the college.
"I did great until the first test. I froze. I couldn't even remember the little I'd studied that week. It's only getting worse. If I fail one more test I'm out of here. My parents are going to be so embarrassed."
He put his hand over hers. "We'll do this. We'll practice until you get like me and like to take tests."
She stared at him as if to say he'd lost his mind. He shrugged. He was used to that look anytime he mentioned his love o
f tests. "It's as if the studying is the hard part. The test is the proof that the studying worked. I wish we didn't have homework, either you do it or not. But the test. The test is the proof you get it and you get to show that you get it."
Nodding her head, Darcy pulled the paper toward her. "I want that."
Soon the floor around their table was littered with crumpled balls of paper but Darcy handed him the latest test with a smile on her face. His heart raced like a horse bursting from the gate. He'd do anything to have that smile directed at him instead of at the thought of doing well on a test. He took his pen and ticked off the correct answers against the key in the back of the book. He returned her smile.
"You only missed one."
Her smile fell. "What do you mean, I missed one?"
He laughed. "You transposed two numbers on the last one and didn't move the decimal point enough spaces. I'm pretty sure it doesn't cost over a million dollars to make one teddy bear."
"It seemed like a lot but I've seen them cost hundreds of thousands, so I thought, why not?"
He sat there dumbfounded at the thought of a priceless teddy bear. The one percent truly lived in a whole other world. Writing a minus one at the top of the page, he circled it and handed it to Darcy.
"I can do this," she whispered, kissing the paper.
"You can," he managed before she ran around the table and grabbed him. Yanking him to his feet, she smiled up at him and planted her soft, warm lips on his.
Her kiss deepened. Chase tried to pull back, but her arms wrapped around his neck and pulled him in close. Her soft fingers threaded through his hair sending shivers down his spine. Her tongue slid along his closed lips and he groaned. She took it as permission and her tongue slid along his. She tasted of oranges and cinnamon. Moving closer, he felt every inch of her firm, athletic body. Her breasts pressed into his chest. His breath caught and his heart raced. He'd wanted to do this since the moment she'd fallen into his lap.
Was she smiling? It felt as if she was smiling. She struggled to move her mouth. That kiss had been so gentle, so sweet, so perfect. Why couldn't time stand still? Why couldn't that feeling go on forever? Why did sadness and disappointment have to butt in on a perfect life? She sighed. Sinking deeper, she embraced the dark, the warm, the nothingness. No sadness, no disappointment in the nothingness. Nothing in the nothingness.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Chase stepped through the large open door and inhaled the strong, sharp scents of sawdust and wood stain. He sighed as his shoulders slumped in relief. The familiar sights and sounds and scents of Thanos Fine Furniture grounded him in a world he understood. Lake Willowbee and the family business was lightyears away from the confusion and angst of the hospital.
"You're back," Uncle Dimitri called from the loft office, his deep voice carrying over the buzzing of saws and dropping of boards.
"For a check-in," he said, once he reached the stairs.
Uncle Dimitri waved him up and Chase followed him into the office. He shut the door behind him, shutting out the clatter as well. His uncle took a seat behind the desk and he fell into the one in front.
"How is Darcy?"
He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Better. Worse. I don't know. Some days it seems like she will wake up and other days it seems like it will never happen."
His uncle opened a drawer and Chase heard the clink of glasses. The man put the glasses and a bottle of Ouzo on the desktop. Chase smiled and Uncle Dimitri poured a dollop into each glass, handing one to Chase. He took a large gulp and heat traveled down his throat to his stomach, where it warmed him inside and out.
Uncle Dimitri sat back in his chair with a creak of leather. He set the cut-crystal glass on a stomach that had expanded year by year until he looked ready to play Santa in a Christmas pageant without added stuffing. "It's the holiday season. The season of miracles."
He huffed and threw the rest of the drink back in one large gulp. "So, if I get a miracle and she wakes up I could be divorced by New Year's." Chase slammed the glass down on the edge of the desk. "Oh my God, I didn't mean that."
"Of course you didn't, son," Dimitri whispered. He drank the rest of his drink, put the glass on the desktop quieter than Chase had, and leaned forward. "This has been a tough row for you to hoe. Your mom and dad would be so proud of you. I'm proud of you. You could have left Darcy to her parents' care. She was divorcing you, you know?"
He jumped out of his seat. "I love Darcy. I'm going to be there for her. Marriage isn't something you just up and leave." His voice rose until he caught the twinkle in his uncle's deep-blue eyes.
Sitting back down, he shook his head. "You played me, old man. You know I'll never leave Darcy. Certainly, not to her parents. Those two were responsible for most of our arguments."
"How's business?" He switched the subject to something easier to deal with than Darcy's parents. They hadn't liked him since day one and nothing he did or achieved in the ensuing years would change their minds. He'd finally just given up trying.
His uncle sat up straight and grinned. "We have more business than we know what to do with. I'm only giving the crew a couple of days for the holidays. We'll have to make it up to them in the spring, give them a spring break or something."
Chase relaxed back in his chair. The business on an even keel was one less thing to worry about. He didn’t think he could handle one more thing on his shoulders. "Did you get the special orders I completed while at the Inn?" Thanos Fine Furniture had been his dad's and his uncle's dream, but Chase Designs was his baby.
Uncle Dimitri whistled. "Yep, shipped them off a couple of days ago. The buyers will get them before Christmas. Always surprises me to put $25,000 insurance on an itty-bitty box."
He grinned. "Not bad for a hobby everyone said would amount to nothing."
"I always believed in your talent, Chase."
"I know you did, Uncle Dimitri. I hope you know what it means to me to have your backing all these years. I could never have started the business without your help."
He stared as a flush swept across his uncle's cheeks. "Now, you know I didn't do anything but give you the tools and the space to do your work. That little girl from college was the one who got the ball rolling."
Chase thought back to Misty and that first carved necklace. She'd shown it to all her glitzy friends and suddenly his work was in demand from the rich and famous the world over. The shop had gone from a nice business for the area to being known in corners of the world he'd never dared dream about. His work now graced the necks of people from A-list actresses to a former first lady. One was on loan to the MOMA in New York City. The spillover for Thanos Fine Furniture built the business from Dimitri, Chase, and two apprentices to a staff of hundreds that employed a good portion of Lake Willowbee.
Had he let the fame go to his head? Had all the time spent building the business been time he should have spent with Darcy? He was ripped out of his thoughts by the ringing of his phone. He pulled it out of his pocket and stared at the screen. The split-second of relief that it wasn't the hospital was replaced with dread at his lawyer's name on the screen.
"Hello," he replied and listened with growing anger as his lawyer spewed a bunch of legal mumbo-jumbo that amounted to one thing—he was getting screwed by the Bennett’s again.
He slammed the phone shut and crammed it back into his pocket. His uncle sat up and stared at him with a question in his eyes.
"That was Whittaker. Margaret and Steven have gotten their wish. A judge ruled they are in charge of Darcy."
"Can they do that? Your lawyer got the papers to make you responsible for your wife."
"Mr. and Mrs. Bennett say they have divorce papers Darcy filed. As her ex-husband, I have no rights, but her parents, out of the kindness of their hearts, as if, say I can come tonight and say good-bye."
"You have to fight them, Chase," his uncle urged, leaning forward in his seat. "If she had filed the papers they would have been found weeks ago."
; He fell back into the chair. "Uncle Dimitri, I'm so tired of fighting."
"Do you still love her?"
"I will love Darcy 'til the day I die."
"Then go fight for her, just like you did before. You didn't give up then, don't give up now."
CHAPTER NINE
The drive back to San Francis and the hospital was too long and boring not to let his mind wander to what might have been. The latest legal maneuver by the Bennett’s was just the most recent battle in his ongoing war with Darcy's parents. From the moment he had met them, they had been crystal clear he wasn't good enough for their little girl. Not enough money. Not enough prestige. Even when the money and the prestige came, it wasn’t enough. Never enough to make them believe he could take care of Darcy. Then the accident happened.
From the day of her car wreck, they'd placed the blame on him even though they'd been separated for months and he wasn't responsible for the rain or the drunken driver. It wasn't as if they could put anymore shame on him than he put on himself first.
If they hadn't been apart.
If she hadn't been driving in the pouring rain.
If Mr. Mattson hadn't decided he could drive after seven shots of Bourbon at the local bar.
You could ‘what if’ until the end of time and still be left with a wife in a coma in a hospital bed. Ex-wife, if what his lawyer said was true.
The road left the mountains and swept down into the foothills, lush and green this time of year. Fog hung in the meadows, but the freeway remained clear and light of traffic. The holiday rush was just beginning to build up. Another few days and the families would be clogging the road on their way to the ski slopes of Lake Tahoe and nearby.
Once he returned to San Francis, Main Street was cluttered with holiday shoppers. Twinkling lights decorated each skeletal tree lining the middle of the street. Banners proclaiming Happy Holidays swung in bright red and green. The bell-ringing Santa had a crowd of little kids putting their dollar bills in the red bucket to get a hug and lollipop from the jolly old elf.