“Good morning, Stanley. How are you?”
“Better now that you’ve shown your pretty face.”
I smiled and pulled a few bills from my wallet as he rang me up. “You’re shameless, you know that?”
The weathered skin on his face wrinkled as he smiled brightly. “Just stating the facts. One of these days you’re going to succumb to my charms. I just know it.”
I laughed as I tucked my wallet back into my purse and grabbed my coffee. “I have no doubt about that. Have a great day.”
“You too, darlin’.”
I headed out the door feeling a thousand times lighter than when I walked in and ready to start my day. The memories from my past and my mother’s cruel words might have stung a bit, but it was nothing a kind gesture from another person couldn’t erase.
“SON OF A bitch!”
At the sound of my boss’s loud curse, I shot up from my desk and scurried into his office.
“Everything okay, Mr. Locklaine?”
“Oh, for the love of…” He closed his eyes and reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose just below his glasses, pulling in a calming breath before addressing me. “Melany, you’ve worked with me for almost a year now. What’s it going to take to get you to call me Collin?”
It was a conversation we’d had every single day since he transferred to the New York office from Boston and I’d become his assistant. Collin Locklaine was one of the top architects at Archer & Weatherly Architecture and Design and an all-around fantastic boss. The man I’d worked for previously had been the polar opposite: a mean-spirited old fart who seemed to get off on belittling the people around him—something he had in common with my mother—and after working for him for four long years, the behavior he demanded was ingrained, permanently scored on my psyche. It was hard to break certain habits.
“Sorry, Collin,” I mumbled with the same discomfort I felt every time he insisted I cut the formality. “Is something wrong?”
Taking off his glasses and tossing them on top of his desk, he picked up the cell phone that had been resting on his ink blotter and waved it in the air. “I took Devon’s phone by mistake.”
“Oh. Um…” I shuffled from foot to foot. “Do you… do you want me to go over there and get it?”
His expression softened as he stared at me, and I had to will myself to meet his gaze and not look down at the floor like I was prone to do when people paid too close attention to me. “Would you mind?”
“N-not at all. I’ll just…” I pointed over my shoulder and began backing out. “I’ll head over there now.” I grabbed the phone before spinning on my heels. I exited his office and stopped back at my desk to grab my purse before heading out. I knew where the law firm Devon worked at was located; it wasn’t too far, so I decided to take advantage of the pretty day and walk the five blocks from my office to hers.
My eyes stayed trained to the dingy sidewalk as people skittered past me like I wasn’t even there. I was nothing more than wallpaper to most people, and I was totally okay with that. My social anxiety didn’t allow me to interact with others comfortably, so I’d grown accustomed to allowing myself to blend into the background. It was just easier that way.
If I couldn’t be normal I’d rather be invisible.
I made it to Devon’s office without any preamble and waited patiently while the receptionist called back to let her know I was there. I used the time to pull out my cell phone and open the game I’d been playing against some unknown cyber person. Playing Scrabble on my phone with people I’d never meet was the closest I came to social interaction with a human being outside my comfort zone.
I’d just played the word circumspect for a triple word score when I heard Devon’s voice calling my name.
“Melany, hey!”
She stopped a foot away and leaned—surprising the hell out of me—to give me a hug.
“Oh… h-hello.” I felt like a bumbling idiot as I inelegantly returned her hug before pulling away.
I finally had the chance to take her in, and wasn’t surprised in the slightest that she looked just as beautiful as always. Her long dark hair hung around her shoulders in artful waves, her makeup was flawlessly tasteful, and her form-fitting dress probably cost more than my entire wardrobe, judging by the fine quality of the soft material. “Thanks so much for coming down here.”
As usual, I felt like a sack-wearing bumpkin standing next to her. Normally, I might be jealous, but she was just too sweet. “No problem,” I said as we traded phones and I stuffed Collin’s cell into my purse.
I vaguely heard her mention something about getting lunch together, but I wasn’t really paying attention because, as she talked, I noticed a familiar flash of blond hair from the corner of my eye. When I turned my head to get a better look, my lungs stalled.
Chapter 3
Melany
IT WAS THE guy from the engagement party, the one I’d been drawn to, the man whose confident demeanor I’d envied, the very same man I’d made a complete fool of myself in front of.
“Melany? Hello…?”
I stood still as a statue as he looked over and met my gaze, almost as though he could feel me staring. The corner of his mouth hooked up as he quickly changed direction and started heading toward Devon and me.
“Ladies,” he greeted with a polite smile.
“Oh, Chance. Hi.” Devon returned his grin. “This is Melany. She’s a friend of mine and works with Collin.”
My stomach did a little flip at being referred to as her friend, but I was too busy gawking at the handsome man before us to really pay attention.
“Yes. We met at your engagement party the other night.”
“That’s great.” Devon clapped. “I’d hoped to have a chance to introduce you two, but the whole night was kind of crazy. I don’t think I got to talk to half the people I wanted to.”
“It wasn’t a problem,” Chance offered. “Actually, Melany kept me entertained with the most fascinating story about the differences between sparkling wine and champagne.”
A spike of embarrassment pierced my chest and began to course through my bloodstream. My skin prickled uncomfortably at the way he poked fun at my expense. The only thing that made my anxiety worse was being made fun of.
“If it hadn’t been for Melany, I might have spent the entire evening bored out of my mind. I’ve been meaning to ask—” He looked back at me with a teasing grin. “—what’s the difference between scotch, bourbon, and whiskey?” Yep, he was definitely making fun of me. My fight-or-flight instincts kicked in and the sudden need to flee grew too strong to be ignored.
I began backing toward the elevators, the tension in my belly coiling tighter. “I-I should get going. I need to get back.”
I jabbed the down arrow several times, dropping my head to keep from having to look at either of them. But I could still feel their stares on my back.
“But—wait,” Devon spoke up. “What about getting lunch?”
“Maybe some other time,” I managed to spit out as the elevator doors slid open. “I’ve got a lot of work to do.”
With my gaze locked on the carpeted floor, I stepped into the elevator and breathed a sigh of relief once the doors closed. Only then did I risk looking up to hit the button for the lobby.
At that very moment, I’d have given anything to just be normal.
Chance
“YOU JERK,” DEVON snapped, slapping me in the arm with the back of her hand.
“Ow! Hey.” I glared at her and rubbed my sore bicep. “What the hell was that for?”
With narrowed, angry eyes, Devon propped her hands on her hips and said, “You embarrassed her.”
“What? How?”
“She thought you were making fun of her.”
My eyes got wide as I looked down at Devon’s irritated expression. “I was just teasing. I didn’t mean anything by it.”
She let out a disgruntled huff and crossed her arms over her chest. “Yeah, well, Melany’s really sh
y and a little awkward, so she didn’t realize you were just messing with her.”
I remembered back to how her face began to turn red at my words and felt a slight twinge of guilt. I knew she was a little strange, that became evident after our conversation at the party, but I hadn’t realized a bit of harmless teasing would hurt her feelings. “That wasn’t my intention. I thought what she’d said was funny. I wasn’t trying to be offensive.”
Some of the fire faded from behind Devon’s eyes. “I know that, but I think that maybe you should apologize. Melany is really sweet, but she’s also sensitive.”
“Are you serious?” I asked indignantly. “It was just a joke, for Christ’s sake.”
Her look screamed: don’t argue with me, just do it. With a frustrated sigh, my shoulders slumped and I found myself doing what I usually did when it came to women: caving. Most days I prided myself on being a nice guy, but on days like today, it was more a pain in the ass than anything else.
“Fine. I’ll go by her work at lunch and apologize.”
She smiled proudly, happy to have gotten her way. “Awesome! And taking her a pastrami sandwich from the deli on 6th would go a long way in getting her to forgive you. Just saying.”
I scowled even though I knew damn good and well I’d make a pit stop on the way to apologize. Without another word, I turned and strode back to my office.
“CAN I HELP you?”
I couldn’t help but grin at the appreciative look the receptionist gave me as I strode off the elevator and to her desk.
“Yeah. I’m here to see Melany Fitzgerald.”
There was no missing the surprised expression that flittered across her face before she had a chance to school her features. “Of course. And your name?”
Hmm. I hadn’t really thought my plan through. With how skittish Melany was, there was a chance she’d just send me away if the receptionist gave her my name. Then the whole trip down here would have been for nothing.
Smiling in a way I knew women loved, I rested my elbows on the credenza of her desk and leaned in like I was about to tell her a secret. Her eyes glazed over just slightly as she tilted toward me, and I knew I had her. “How about we keep it a secret, huh? I’m surprising her with lunch.” I held up the brown paper deli bag. “Just tell her it’s a friend.”
She shot me a sneaky smile, like we were together on some inside joke, and quickly picked up the phone. “Hi, Melany. There’s someone here to see you. Yes. No.” She looked up at me and winked. “He said he’s a friend. Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Yeah, sure. I’ll send him back.”
She hung up the phone with a pleased grin and gave me instructions to Melany’s desk.
With the bag still clutched in my hand, I made my way down the hall. As soon as I rounded the corner, I caught sight of her coming out of an office and pulling the door closed behind her. Her gaze was on the ground as she moved toward her desk and took a seat. It wasn’t until I was standing two feet away and cleared my throat that she looked up with a start.
“Chance,” she said in a breathy voice, her doe eyes growing even rounder at the sight of me. It wasn’t lost on me that, behind those ridiculously baggy clothes and plain haircut, Melany Fitzgerald was a looker, a natural beauty in a very girl-next-door sort of way. “W-what are you doing here?”
I lifted the bag in my hand, showing her my peace offering before saying, “I came to apologize… and bring you lunch.”
She studied me for several seconds with a wary skepticism. “I don’t understand.”
“I embarrassed you earlier this morning, and I wanted you to know that hadn’t been my intention. I wasn’t trying to make fun of you in front of Devon, and I’m truly sorry if what I said to you hurt your feelings in any way.” I set the bag down on her desk before continuing. “And in an effort to win you over, I stopped at your favorite deli and got you a pastrami sandwich.”
She looked from me to the bag and back again. “How did you—?”
“Devon might have hinted.” I chuckled, tapping the bag closer to her. “So… am I forgiven?”
She didn’t look any less hesitant as she slowly reached for the bag and peeked inside, so I lowered my voice and said, genuinely, “I really am sorry, Melany.”
Some of her resolve slowly started to melt away as she pulled in a deep breath. “You’re forgiven,” she said in a quiet voice. “And… thank you for lunch. And for the apology.”
I considered her acceptance of my apology as my “in” and used it to my advantage. There was an empty chair next to her desk, so I took it upon myself to get comfortable and take the paper bag back, pulling out the turkey club I’d gotten for myself before passing it back to her.
“What are you doing?” she asked after several seconds of silence.
I unwrapped my sandwich and lifted it to my lips. “What does it look like? I’m having lunch with you.”
“But… why?”
I swallowed and smiled. “Because I want to,” I answered honestly. “Despite how you took my earlier teasing, I really did enjoy talking to you at the party a few nights ago. You were funny and intriguing, and I’d like to get to know you better. Besides, I figured I’m here, so now’s as good a time as any, right?”
Her expression was almost comical. It was as if she’d never had anyone show the slightest bit of interest in her before and had no clue how to handle it.
“I… b-but… you… we—”
I reached into the bag and took out her lunch, holding it out for her. “Eat your sandwich,” I said gently, not giving her the opportunity to argue. It was clear she was unsure how to act in many situations. Instead of letting her flounder, I decided I’d simply help guide her way.
She slowly took the sandwich from my hand and began to unwrap it. I reached back into the bag and pulled out the two canned drinks I’d purchased along with the food. “Diet or regular?” She gazed at the cans before finally taking the regular and popping it open.
We ate in silence for a bit before she broke it, asking, “You’re kind of bossy, aren’t you?”
I looked up to find her with a tiny smile on her lips, somewhat shocked by the sarcastic nature of her question. So she had a backbone underneath all that shyness after all. That was good to know.
“If we’re going to be friends, you’ll eventually get used to it,” I joked.
She was amazing to watch. I could practically see those protective layers shedding away. With a little giggle, she teased back, “Oh, so we’re friends now?”
“Sure.” I shrugged. “Why not. I find you interesting, and I’ve been told I’m a catch.”
This time her laugh was a bit louder. “That doesn’t sound cocky at all.”
I winked and we both went back to eating in companionable silence. I was halfway through my lunch when she spoke again. “To answer your earlier question, both bourbon and scotch are whiskey.”
My head shot up. She was looking at me with a pleased grin tugging at her lips. That smile only worked to enhance her already pretty face. “Go on,” I pushed, finding that I actually wanted to know what she had to say.
She finished chewing then took a swallow of her drink to wash it down. “Well, the difference between the two is based on geography, along with a few other factors. Scotch is a whiskey made in Scotland while bourbon comes from the U.S. The difference also has to do with ingredients and the distillation process, but I won’t bore you with those facts.”
I opened my mouth to inform her that I didn’t think there was anything she had to say that I would find boring, when we were suddenly interrupted.
“Excuse me…”
Melany did a little frightened jump in her seat, neither of us having realized there was someone else standing there. When I tipped my head up, I saw the guy standing on the other side of the desk was none other than the man she’d been ogling at the engagement party.
“L-Logan,” she gasped, her cheeks growing pink. “Hi. H-how are you?”
“I’m good. Thanks for asking, Melody.
” Melody? Ah, shit. The dude didn’t even know her actual name?
Melany’s entire frame withered before my very eyes, and my palm suddenly itched to smack this douche upside his head for causing her to slink back into her shell. One second of thoughtlessness on his part had undone the work I’d put in to help pull her out of it.
“Melany,” I said in a gravelly voice.
Both of them turned to me, Melany looking surprised, Douche McFuckstick looking confused. “Sorry?” he asked.
“Her name’s Melany. Not Melody.”
“Oh, uh… sorry.”
“It’s all right!” Melany said, far too loudly. “Common mistake. No biggie. So w-what can’t I help you with, Logan?”
He held up the papers in his hand. “I just need you to get Collin to sign off on the revisions to the McGinnis designs.”
“Oh! Yeah! Sure! Totally!” Oh fuck, she was spiraling… only this time, she was yelling while doing it. “I’ll get right on that! No problem!”
Logan stared like she’d lost her damn mind—not that I could totally blame him—and dropped the documents onto her desk. “You can just interoffice those back to me,” he said with a bland smile before walking off. When I turned my attention back to Melany, she’d dropped her forehead to her desk.
“On a scale from one to ten, how bad was that?”
I had two options. One, I could lie to make her feel better, or two, I could tell her the truth in the hopes that it would help her with volume control the next time her crush was around. I decided the latter was the way to go.
“It would have been a four, but the fact you practically screamed at him, made it a solid fifteen.”
“Damn, damn, damn, damn,” she murmured under her breath, punctuating each damn with a small bang of her head against the desk.
There was no holding back the laugh that had been building in my chest. I let it go and reached out to stop her before she gave herself a concussion. “Hey, look on the bright side. At least you have nowhere to go from here but up.”
Chance Encounters Page 3