Chance of Romance (Happy Endings Book Club, Book 8)

by Kylie Gilmore

They ate in comfortable silence for a few minutes.

  She set her fork down. “I want to help people. I just don’t want to lose myself in the chaos.”

  Logan lifted his head. “Who’s going with you to your TV interview?”

  She took a drink, thinking it over. Her friends were probably all working. “I don’t know. I’ll ask my friends tomorrow when we’re shopping for Mad’s wedding dress, but I’m not hopeful. The interview’s at eight a.m. on Monday morning in the city. I have to be there by six. Claire would be my ideal choice, but she’s still out of town.”

  He met her eyes, his expression unusually serious. “You want me there, say the word.”

  Her heart squeezed, touched by the offer. She knew he was busy at work with some important investor meetings he had to prepare for. A small sliver of hope warmed her despite her certainty that he saw her only as a friend, despite all of her previous concerns about getting close to him.

  “Why would you want to do that?” she asked softly.

  “Because we’re friends and you’re shy as hell.” One corner of his mouth lifted. “You know they have a studio audience and people on the street can watch through the big windows. I’ve passed by their studio before. I’d hate to see you blushing brighter than their logo.” The Sunshine America logo was bright red and orange. Gee, thanks.

  She lifted her chin. “I’m a professional. I can handle myself.”

  He took a drink, watching her over the rim. “You sure?”

  “Yes!”

  “Okay, okay.” His brown eyes held a hint of amusement. “Pretty mouthy for a shy girl.”

  Grr…

  He grinned. “Though your article was badass.”

  She met his eyes and smiled. He smiled back so warmly that her entire body warmed. Maybe there was something there. Questions darted through her mind: you into me? You into committed relationships? Are you really still pining for your college girlfriend? Would you be willing to embrace a stable, no-risk lifestyle?

  So like a total professional, she blurted, “With so many of our friends getting married, you ever think about it for yourself?”

  He blew out a breath. “That was random.”

  Her cheeks and neck were burning, but she still managed to say in a composed voice, “I’m a relationship counselor. It’s my special field of interest.”

  He shook his head. “Most things don’t pan out, in my experience. Hard to imagine committing to forever when the odds of sticking together are stacked against you.” His lips quirked to the side in a wry expression. “Guess that’s why the world needs people like you to help them stick. No offense to your profession, but it seems to me if it’s that difficult to be together, then maybe they shouldn’t be.”

  She suppressed a sigh of disappointment. How unromantic, how commitment-phobic, how honest. She did have to give him credit for being honest. And she had the answer she needed. Logan wasn’t a good fit for her relationship-wise. A committed relationship was something you had to work for. It was a choice, every day, to commit to the love of your life, even when that was difficult. It occurred to her he hadn’t mentioned his ex in all this relationship talk. Mad must’ve been way off base on that. He was definitely not pining.

  Logan launched into a detailed rundown of his upcoming investor meetings out in California and what it could mean for Checkin. He’d built the business, valued at two hundred fifty million, with his honorary brother Ben, and now they were seeking investment to take it higher. The most important meeting was in two weeks.

  She listened intently without interruption as he spoke passionately about the business and what he dreamed for it. At least they had this, a close friendship, where they could talk about important stuff. That had to be enough.

  Chapter Three

  Logan drove to Manhattan early Monday morning to surprise Sabrina by showing up for her big talk-show debut. If he’d told her ahead of time he’d be there, she would’ve put on a brave face and said she was just fine. But he’d seen the real fear in her eyes and, as soon as he found out from Mad that Sabrina was going alone, it was a no-brainer. Sabrina was like a porcelain doll—beautiful, perfect, delicate. Untouchable. Her dark blond hair was smooth and straight, never mussed or out of place, and she had these big innocent-looking brown eyes with round cheeks prone to blushing, and a sweet smile. Her body was trim and curvy, wrapped in perfectly tailored professional clothes.

  Not that he was a complete Neanderthal, but he needed someone that could challenge him, a little more give-and-take. He could easily walk all over Sabrina with her sweet accommodating ways. And, for sure, if Sabrina was rattled, a talk-show host could walk all over her too. If his standing backstage during her big interview could give back even a little of the support she’d given him, well, it was the least he could do. His sister-in-law Claire had gotten him on the VIP list so he could stand in Sabrina’s line of vision, off camera, letting her know a friend was there for her.

  Sabrina didn’t know how much her quiet listening and support had helped him through some tough spots. Like last summer when his business partner, Ben, had been falsely accused of sexual harassment. Logan had been hurting for his friend and worried about their company when the news leaked out through business channels. Sabrina had encouraged him to ignore the whispers and let Ben know he believed in him. They’d weathered that storm.

  Then later when Ben had been a bear to work with and Logan couldn’t figure out why, Sabrina was the one who’d zeroed in on the cause of Ben’s misery—Missy—and suggested Logan let her go a little early from her work contract so Missy and Ben could get together without professional boundaries holding them back. Now they were engaged. Sabrina was smart like that. Too modest for her own good, but, in his opinion, she was the relationship expert.

  Damn traffic. It had been smooth sailing all the way into the city. He inched his way through the last few blocks to the Sunshine America studio, hoping it cleared up fast. He was excited for Sabrina and what this could mean for her career. Sabrina’s believing in him had really helped his own career. When he, the tech guy, had to take the lead on the investor meetings due to Ben’s damaged rep from that lying former employee, Sabrina had offered unwavering support, listening to him go on and on about his presentation and then confirming he was on the right track. Ben liked to razz him about Sabrina, calling her Logan’s sweetheart, which was part of the problem with Sabrina. She was too sweet; she even smelled sweet like honey and flowers.

  Though she’d surprised him during their lunch on Friday, raising her voice for the first time ever and confessing her family was nuts. He’d always pictured her in a quiet family that went to orchestra concerts or the opera. In any case, she’d never given him any indication that she wanted to be more than friends. She was so reserved and professional. He couldn’t imagine even mussing up her perfect hair. The one and only time she’d touched him had been last week on New Year’s Eve when she’d given him the most awkward hug of his life. Even his most reserved brother, Josh, gave better bro hugs than that. She’d been so careful to keep her distance during their hug she’d actually squeezed his elbow—the most unexciting spot on the human body—and patted his back. When the hug ended, she’d jumped a foot away like she could barely tolerate touching him.

  There were other complications. Sabrina was close with his loudmouthed sister, which was why he never got too personal during their talks. He hadn’t told Sabrina about Olivia, even though things were looking very promising for him and Olivia. He’d fallen hard for her his senior year of college and proposed on graduation night. Something he’d kept from his family and friends because she’d turned him down, saying he wasn’t from the right family. Translation: he had no money. She was from a wealthy family, and her inheritance depended on her marrying well, all sorts of stipulations, blah, blah, blah. All he’d heard was you’re not good enough. He’d thrown himself into work, mostly to prove he could be a success and shove it in her face. But that was in the early days. Eventually, he’d
really enjoyed work and later building his own business.

  Olivia’s rejection didn’t sting as much as it might have because she kept in touch, sending him birthday and holiday cards, occasionally emailing to see how he was doing. Deep down he knew her keeping in touch meant she still cared for him. A couple of months ago, she’d emailed with her usual friendly note, and when he’d told her Checkin was about to take it to the next level, she’d been happy for him. She’d even said she should’ve known he’d be a success and she’d been foolish to turn his proposal down. Now, he wasn’t naïve. He read between the lines that he was more appealing to her now as an established successful businessman than an entry-level employee from a working-class family, but still. There’d been something real between them before, and now that he was at a point in his life where he could reap the rewards of all his hard work, he’d been thinking more about making time for a relationship.

  It helped that Olivia had confessed the real reason she’d rejected him was because she’d been too young. She was two years younger than him, only twenty when he’d proposed. He forgave her. She’d been sincere, and it had been her initial rejection, after all, that lit the fire of ambition in him.

  He’d flown out to San Francisco six weeks ago to see her over the long Thanksgiving weekend. They’d connected like the fit of an old glove—comfortable and easy. He hadn’t seen her since—she’d flown to the Swiss Alps for Christmas with her family, and he’d wanted to spend Christmas with his own family while sneaking a little work in. But they’d talked and texted a lot. He’d told her if things went well for Checkin, he’d open a San Francisco office so they could be together. She’d been excited about the idea.

  He hadn’t told Olivia about Sabrina either, even though they were just friends. Olivia was the jealous type. Besides, if everything worked out like he hoped for Checkin, he’d be moving to San Francisco, and Sabrina would be out of his life. No more lunches, no more deep conversations. His throat tightened, unexpectedly choked up at the thought. He’d miss Sabrina. No one had ever listened to him the way she did. He gave himself a mental shake. Priorities. His life was on the verge of great things.

  He reached the studio an excruciatingly long time later and drove past it, looking for a parking garage. He found one a couple of blocks from the studio, left the keys with the valet, and booked it out of there. Her interview was starting in fifteen minutes. He went into the studio building and stopped at the security guard’s desk, giving his name and telling him he was on the list.

  The security guard, a tough-looking man with a shaved head and deep lines in his face, looked skeptical. “Driver’s license.”

  Logan pulled out his wallet and showed him. “It’s starting soon. I need to get in there.”

  “Hold on.” The guy picked up a phone and checked in about Logan. He hung up and turned to him. “Set’s closed. All the seats in the audience are filled.”

  “No, I’m with Claire Jordan. I’m supposed to go backstage. She cleared it with the producer.”

  He looked around Logan, where there was no Claire Jordan. “Uh-huh.” No one ever believed he knew Claire Jordan. She was just that famous, but she’d married his brother Jake.

  “Claire’s my sister-in-law,” he said urgently. “She cleared it. Check with the producer.”

  The man eyed him. “What’s the producer’s name?”

  He racked his brain. “Cindy. No, Sandy. Sally! She said Sally would help me out.”

  The man’s gaze flicked over his shoulder, where another person was approaching the desk. Shit. This guy wasn’t moving fast enough, and Logan was going to miss the whole thing. He pulled out his phone and called Claire. She was going to kill him. It was before five a.m. in California. Voicemail. She must’ve turned her phone off. He called Jake. Voicemail.

  The security guard let the other guy in.

  Logan gestured to the security phone. “Please call again. Claire got me on the list.”

  “Buddy, you’re not on any list.”

  “I am!” His gaze darted to the elevator. He debated racing past the guy, but the chances of getting to Sabrina before he was hauled out of the building were slim. He focused on the security guard again. “Check with Sally.”

  “There is no Sally.”

  “Cindy, then.”

  The man stood, bulky with muscle and fully armed. “Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

  Logan scrambled for an alternative. He had to let Sabrina know she wasn’t facing this alone. He lifted a hand, signaling the guy to stand down, turned, and left the building, still trying to think of a workaround.

  A crowd was gathered at the end of the street near the large picture windows of the studio. All right then, that was how it was going to have to be.

  ~ ~ ~

  Sabrina sat stiffly in the pale yellow cushioned guest chair near the ultra-perky hosts, Becky Simpson and Dell Rowan, sitting in matching chairs. The makeup lady blotted Sabrina’s face with some powder for the second time. No one ever died of stage fright, she reassured herself. The worst that could happen was she’d blurt out every single reason she was a fraud and run out of the place. Live on TV. Gah! No negative self-talk. Be your own cheerleader.

  “Try not to sweat so much,” the makeup lady said before heading over to Becky and Dell.

  Sabrina took in a shaky breath, clasping her hands tightly in her lap. The studio audience was filled and noisily excited to be here. A huge crowd outside waved and pointed, peering inside the large picture windows at them. Some people held signs that read I love Dell! There were a lot of signs that read Good Morning, Sunshine! That was the line they used to start every show.

  Claire had prepped her last night by phone, but truthfully, it had made Sabrina even more nervous than before. Claire was adamant that Sabrina only answer questions she wanted to, but her suggested “no comment” wasn’t something Sabrina felt comfortable saying. A movie star could get away with that, but a relationship counselor had to come across as warm and open. She wished she were a better actress because then she could play the part she longed to be seen as—a confident, warm, open relationship counselor with a committed relationship and a normal family, who’d never been a jilted bride.

  “Five minutes!” someone hollered offstage.

  Sabrina gulped.

  Becky and Dell hadn’t said anything beyond “good morning” to her and had been busy chatting with the crew and each other. Sabrina supposed she was just another guest to them, but she sure wished there were someone for her to chat with so she could get out of her own head and relax a little.

  A woman walked over and checked Sabrina’s microphone clipped to her white cardigan. She wore her favorite purple A-line dress and black heels. She’d put the entire outfit on last night and texted a picture to Claire, who’d approved it both for its professionalism and pop of color. At least she knew she had that going for her.

  A young woman wearing a headset put a Sunshine America mug filled with water on the end table next to Sabrina’s chair.

  “Thank you,” Sabrina croaked. “I’m parched.”

  The young woman took pity on her, leaned close, and whispered, “Most guests use the water when they need a moment before answering a question.”

  “Smart. Thanks.”

  “Good luck!”

  Sabrina smiled tightly and took a small sip of water. Then she was alone again under the hot lights. A few minutes later, the audience quieted as the screen flashed the countdown to filming. Sabrina tucked her icy fingers under her legs.

  Becky and Dell finally stopped talking to each other and gave her a warm smile.

  She smiled back, her cheeks hurting with the false effort. Be genuine, be yourself. She took a slow deep breath.

  The director did a silent countdown, the cameras aimed at them. She’d been instructed not to look at the camera, just to look at Becky and Dell. It was hard not to notice the three huge cameras aimed in their direction.

  “Good morning, sunshine!�
�� Becky exclaimed, looking into the camera.

  “Good morning to all of our viewers,” Dell chimed in smoothly in his rich baritone voice. “We have a very special guest today. If you’ve made a New Year’s resolution to find the love of your life, Sabrina Clarke might just be the answer.”

  “Hi, Sabrina! Welcome!” Becky said with a huge smile.

  “Hi, Becky and Dell. I’m happy to be here.” Her voice shook. Dammit.

  “We loved your piece ‘Goodbye Commitment-Phobe, Hello Happiness!’” Becky looked off camera toward the crew. “Can we get a link up there? In case anyone missed it.”

  A moment later, Becky smiled. “There it is! Thank you. Sabrina, what motivated you to write it? Was it personal experience or based on your clients?”

  Sabrina’s heart pounded in her ears. If she said it was personal experience, there would be follow-up questions, and she did not want to share that on national television. If she said it was her clients, then that was a clear breach of patient confidentiality. And she was definitely not going to mention the real vengeful reason. “I don’t know” wasn’t going to cut it here.

  “Neither,” she blurted.

  “What was the impetus behind it?” Becky asked. “Had you recently found some happiness you were eager to share?”

  Sabrina blinked, her mind blanking. This was a show about good news. She had to say something positive. Her eye caught on a sign someone was holding up outside the window. It read Shy Girl Rocks! She couldn’t help her huge smile. Only Logan would tease her like that. He was here. He knew what this meant to her, knew how nervous she was and, even though she told him she could handle it, he’d showed up to support her. He cared about her deeply. Her chest swelled with affection. If only she could see him. He was near the back of the crowd.

  Becky turned toward the window and back to Sabrina. “Is there someone you know outside?”

  Sabrina smiled. “Sorry, yes. What were you saying?”

  Dell chimed in with a teasing tone. “Someone special? Does he have a name?”