by Alison Kent
But he had to give it one last shot, had to make one last effort to convince her that he didn’t want to own her. That he didn’t want to run her life. That he didn’t want to mold her into some sick and twisted ideal.
He only wanted to love her and, no matter that she expected differently, he wasn’t going to say, “Here’s the catch.”
Pulling his Mustang into the parking space three down from Chloe’s VW Beetle, he braked hard and jumped out, needing to get to her before she got to her car. All three women were headed his way. Deanna and Poe probably wouldn’t appreciate the holdup but, hey, they’d get over it.
He walked toward the laughing trio, his long strides eating up the pavement. At Chloe’s carefree smile, at her throaty trill of delight, Eric’s gut knotted. Must be nice to be able to relax, enjoy lunch with friends. Eric had felt ready to snap now for ten days.
Poe caught sight of him before Chloe did; her head was turned to the side as she chatted up Deanna. Poe gestured, looking his way, though she spoke to Chloe from the side of her mouth.
Chloe’s head swung around. Deanna’s followed. The women stopped talking and their steps slowed as he continued to approach at full speed. All four of them wore sunglasses, so he was as blind to Chloe’s expression as she was to his. He was, however, able to see her mouth and her smile freeze in place.
Eric shrugged off the cold. He didn’t care if he was putting her on the spot. He didn’t even care if he did look desperate. Last-ditch efforts often did.
The group came to a stop and Chloe was the first to speak. “Eric. Hey. You remember Poe.”
Eric nodded. “Miss Lee.”
“And this is Deanna Elliott,” Chloe said, inclining her head toward the younger woman. “Our gIRL-gEAR gIRL.”
“Miss Elliott.” Again, Eric nodded. But that was it for the small talk. He pulled off his Ray Bans. “Chloe, can I speak to you privately?”
“I don’t know, Eric.” Chloe gave a quick glance toward the other two women. “We really do need to get back to the office before Sydn—”
“This won’t take but a minute.” He gave both Deanna and Poe a dismissive look, one he hoped conveyed the apology absent from his tone of voice, then turned back to Chloe. “I can give you a ride back if that will help.”
“Chloe, you stay. I’ll get Deanna to drop me at the office. In fact, I think I’ll put her to work.” Poe linked her arm through the younger woman’s and teasingly tugged her in the other direction. “Now that she’s the proud owner of a high-school diploma, we have to keep her busy. We can’t have her getting any wild slacker ideas.”
Chloe frowned. “Are you sure?”
Deanna giggled, tossing her long dark braid over her shoulder. “Are you kidding? Like your office is so totally the coolest.”
Eric could’ve given the teen a brotherly hug and kissed the dragon lady. Though Chloe now appeared to be the one breathing fire.
She watched the other two women walk off, then turned her flames his way. “You sure know how to put a bad mood on a good time, don’tcha, sugar?”
Eric hung the Ray Ban’s earpiece over his T-shirt’s ribbed neckline. “At least I know how to return phone calls.”
“Oh, now that is a big fat lie.” Chloe stomped off toward her car, digging in her macramé bag for her keys. “I called you fifteen times if I called you once before I ever came to see you at Haydon’s. If you’d had the courtesy to call me back, we might not be standing here now arguing in a parking lot.”
“I’m not doing any arguing.” Eric crowded in between Chloe’s car and the one beside it, blocking her only easy escape route.
“No? Then what are you doing? Why are you here?” She opened her car door, tossed her bag on the passenger seat, slammed her hands on her hips.
Eric couldn’t believe it. They were right back where they’d started. She was doing her best to break him. And she sure had the ammunition. “I’m here because you wouldn’t call me back. You could’ve saved me the trip and saved yourself the embarrassment of being stalked in a parking lot.”
She stared at him for a minute, though she still wore her sunglasses so he couldn’t see her eyes. Then she turned her head to the side, her gaze sliding away, her lips pressed together in a flat, grim line.
Eric shoved a hand back over his hair. “Chloe, I’m not here to stalk you. Or embarrass you. And I’m sorry if I have.”
She waved him off with one hand. “I’m not embarrassed. And I should have called you back. I know the frustration of waiting on a return call that never comes,” she said, her mouth twisting wryly.
That look gave Eric hope that she wasn’t hell-bent on never speaking to him again. “I thought you were blowing me off. Call me masochistic, but if that’s what you have on your mind, I’d rather be blown in person.”
Her lips quirked and she chuckled at that. “I’m sure you would, sugar. And you deserve better than me leaving you to stew in your own juices. But my not returning your calls is about me. Not about you.”
And if that wasn’t the oldest kiss-off in the book, he didn’t know what was. Oh, well, he thought, and shook his head.
“Eric,” she began, reaching out and placing a hand on his forearm. “I know how that sounds. ‘It’s not you. It’s me.’ That’s a crappy thing to do to someone.”
“Glad we agree on that, at least.” Not that he felt any better. What he felt, in fact, was dumped. Stupid for being here. And like a whipped sucker.
Her fingers tightened a minute before she let him go and moved her hand to the car’s open door. She held her jaw tight, as if holding back a mouthful of the wrong words.
Eric put his hands to his hips and watched the late lunch-hour traffic crawl by. “Look, Chloe. If you can’t tell me what you’re thinking, then I don’t need to be here. I thought we were beyond being tongue-tied with each other.”
He started to turn away. She stopped him with a whispered, “Wait.” So he arched a brow and waited.
She took a deep breath. “I’m not giving up. Or throwing away what we have…this thing we have. But I’m not ready to be part of an us. Too much of me has been stirred up lately, what with Aidan’s visit. And with…you.”
“What about me?”
“You scare me to death, Eric.” Her voice quivered. The car door squeaked as she leaned her weight into it. “You talk about love and make it sound so simple. But I’ve never known it to be anything but complicated. It’s complicated and it’s hard. Your mother abandoned you. My father’s an abusive ass. Even Lauren and Anton can’t get it right.”
She paused, slowly closing the car door and resting her forehead against the curve of the roof. “I’m not even sure I know what love is.”
He could counter every one of her lousy arguments. He had his foster family. She had four brothers. He had a feeling Anton and Lauren weren’t totally kaput. But even if they were, look at Leo and Macy.
And then there were Eric’s own feelings for Chloe. Which he thought he’d made clear. And, yeah. It hurt that she still didn’t get it. So he’d say what he’d come here to say and leave his heart in her hands.
“Chloe, I know our arrangement is a done deal. And I know I used up all three of my wishes. But I have one more to make.” He was going way out on a limb here, but at this point did he really have anything to lose?
Her head still resting on the car, she rolled to the side to see him. “I supposed I can descend from my ivory tower long enough to hear your petition.”
Seeing the smile that touched her face, Eric felt his gut clench. He didn’t think he’d ever loved her more than he did right then. “Haydon’s Hammers have a tournament on Memorial Day. I want you to come.”
She was already shaking her head. “I can’t. Ray’s having a barbecue. I’ve already committed.”
“That’s okay. You don’t have to play. Just show up.”
She frowned and stood up straight. “I thought you liked the way I played.”
Eric laughed even though his m
ood was anything but lighthearted. “I do like the way you play.”
“So, what? You’re looking for your own personal cheerleader?”
“No. I’m looking for someone who plays for keeps.” She pulled off her sunglasses then, and Eric continued, spitting out what he’d come here to say before those big violet eyes did him in.
“I want to renew our exclusive arrangement. I want this relationship to be a real commitment, Chloe. And this time I want it with all strings attached. If you don’t want the same thing, then don’t show. I’ll take that as your final answer.”
Heart pounding in his chest, Eric turned and walked away, wondering how he was going to make it through the next two days before finding out if he was a winner.
Or the biggest loser since Cary Grant waited on top of the Empire State Building for a woman who never showed.
THE SUN GLARED DOWN on Stratton Park and on Eric’s bare shoulders and bad mood. Haydon’s Hammers were sucking wind, and he was going to end up shelling out for a helluva lot of brew by the end of the day.
He wouldn’t have minded so much losing the tournament or that much beer if he hadn’t felt like he was losing a big part of his future happiness the closer it got to the end of the day.
Chloe hadn’t showed.
A hundred scenarios had run through Eric’s mind. Her Beetle had been squashed on the drive over in the holiday traffic, and she was being scraped off the pavement while he played ball.
She’d gotten stuck flipping burgers or had to make an emergency beer run for Ray…and her Beetle had been squashed in the traffic and she was being scraped off the pavement while Eric played ball.
He knew none of his conjured imaginings were anywhere close to the truth. She’d just decided she liked things better with no strings attached.
He guzzled a paper cup of bright orange sports drink and scrubbed the ball of his drenched T-shirt down the center of his chest. The Memorial Day heat was taking no prisoners.
The park was packed with picnickers—families, couples, teens and kids. Kites soared and baseballs zipped and Frisbees winged across the fields. The smells of burning charcoal and smoked sausage and grilled chicken and burgers would’ve had his stomach growling if he’d had an appetite.
Instead he was growling at anyone who made eye contact. All these shiny, happy people were getting on his nerves. What did they think they were celebrating, anyway, besides a day off from work? He doubted half of them knew what the holiday was about. They didn’t deserve to have fun.
And who made you king of the world, Haydon? A king needed a queen, and he couldn’t even convince a princess to come to a volleyball game. And, hell. Who needed a princess, anyway?
All that ivory tower wall scaling cost a man too much time and effort, made him old before his time. And put a big damper on his fun with the damsels.
Good thing his princess had showed her true colors before his armor got too rusty. Now he was free to rescue at will. Since he would obviously never learn his lesson…
“Damn it, Chloe. You’re not a quitter. I can’t believe you’re giving this up.” He muttered the words under his breath. And, yeah. He had to admit it. Hearing them spoken aloud, even in his own rough and raspy voice, made them real.
Real enough to accept. Hands planted at his hips, T-shirt caught in one, he hung his head and faced facts. He’d had an affair to remember, but it was over. Finished. Kaput.
He’d do better with an overgrown mixed-breed, big-footed mutt. Unconditional love would go a long way toward healing the wreck of his heart.
“Yo, Haydon. Let’s go.”
“Gimme a sec.” He jogged to his car, tossed his T-shirt onto the floorboard and dug in his gym bag for another. Then he went to play the game.
Not quite as satisfying as playing for keeps, but he’d live. Yeah. He’d live.
“RESIGN? What are you talking about, resign?”
“You can’t resign! You’re a partner.”
“You are gRAFFITI gIRL. No one else can take your place.”
“This is insane, Chloe. You’re one of the original girls.”
“It might not be insane, but it’s certainly not cosmically sound. Chloe, have you really thought this through?”
Wearing a skinny black skirt, plus a shell and cardigan of pale pink cashmere, Chloe sat at the conference table, legs crossed, foot swinging, hands laced in her lap, waiting for the shock to wear off, the objections to die down.
She’d delayed making her announcement until the end of the partners’ brainstorming session, thinking it the perfect time to present her proposal, knowing the five female brains in the room would be in rare form.
And now that the uproar had settled and stunned silence had descended, she glanced around the table at the faces looking at her as if she’d lost her mind. Which, truth be told, was not out of the question.
Macy, the wild child. Lauren, the ethereal willow. Kinsey, the bohemian mystic. Melanie, the technical wizard. Sydney, the classic beauty.
All Chloe could do was smile and count her blessings. Joyful tears pricked her eyes and, with a tremulous sigh, she said, “Do you know how much I love all of you? How much I owe all of you?”
Sydney frowned, blinking rapidly, and tapped the pointed end of her pencil against her legal pad of notes. “You don’t owe us anything, Chloe. I don’t know why you would think you would.”
Now that she was being honest—with herself, with her friends—Chloe saw no need to sugarcoat the truth. She took a deep, cleansing breath. “Because all this time you’ve been putting up with a fraud.”
“Fraud?” Melanie screeched, nearly coming out of her seat and overturning her chair in the process. She righted her seat, adjusted her headset and glared. “Get real. You’re the most open, honest, tell-it-like-it-is person I know. Fraud my butt.”
Chloe closed her eyes briefly, realizing this was going to be a lot harder than she’d thought. Even painfully squeezing her fingers hadn’t kept them from going numb. “Well, okay. I’ll give you that. Personally? I am who I am. But this fashion business?”
She let the question settle and got to her feet, lifting the leather satchel from the floor by her chair as she did so. She pulled out the five binders she’d put together on her own, using feedback gained over several lunches and dinners with both Deanna and Poe.
Picking the brains of gIRL-gEAR’s gIRL and the firm’s number-one buyer had given Chloe the confidence to go forward with her plans. She was doing the right thing. And, for the first time in her life, she was going to be true to herself.
Which also meant she was going to be true to Eric. The two statements were synonymous, and it was time she accepted that fact gratefully. But first things first…
“Brace yourselves, because this is going to be a shock.”
And, hugging the binders close to her chest, Chloe told her best friends the story of her life.
She told them of being given no choice but to major in fashion design when she’d wanted nothing more than to study phys ed. She shared the news of Aidan’s unexpected visit and, with permission, of her conversation with Poe.
Leaving out the details of Poe’s modeling career, Chloe used the other woman’s pursuit of her dream as a paradigm for her own decision to change her career focus, to take what she’d learned in life and put it to use.
After all, cosmetics and accessories, for all the fun she’d had managing her product lines, would hardly make a difference in any girl’s life. Chloe wanted to make a difference. She wanted to share the riches found in following one’s heart.
“I know this is not the most conventional way to approach a change in gIRL-gEAR’s structure,” she said in closing, circling the table to distribute the binders. “But I had to see if I could come up with a halfway feasible plan before I brought it to the table. What I’ve put together is only a draft, but it should answer most of your questions.”
Sydney quickly scanned the opening page and spoke first, lifting her eyes and meeting
Chloe’s gaze. “gUIDANCE gIRL? You want to set up a mentoring program?”
Having passed out the proposals, Chloe returned to stand behind her chair. Her hands anxiously gripping the chair back, she nodded. “The name is open to debate. I’m more interested in discussing the fundamentals. We have such reach, such influence. I want to do more with our celebrity than we’ve done so far.”
“Am I right in understanding that this is more than simply offering advice? Like Macy does in her column?” Lauren asked, her eyes already sparkling with enthusiasm.
That sparkle was the only affirmation Chloe needed. “Yes, exactly. Advice would be a part of it. But it’s more encompassing. I want to include career counseling and peer groups and even organized lock-ins.”
“Slumber parties?” Macy asked.
“Sure. Why not? A girl’s got to have some fun.” That said, Chloe cast a glance around the table, taking in the expression on each partner’s face as they intently read through her ideas.
Feeling the need to spread her enthusiasm, she started pacing again, circling the table and feeling five separate gazes following. “I don’t expect this to be decided today. And it’s not like I’m giving two weeks’ notice here. The entire concept will require a lot of preparation, study and development.
“But I am determined to do this. If not here at gIRL-gEAR, then wherever.” She came to a stop behind her chair once more and took a deep breath. “Which is why I’m going back to school in September. I don’t think a degree in fashion design qualifies me for any sort of social services work.”
“What about gRAFFITI gIRL and gADGET gIRL?” Melanie asked. “You can’t mean to walk out on your babies?”
“Actually, no. I’ve covered that base as well.” She could hardly keep the grin from her face.
If they thought she was out of her mind now, wait until she told them about Poe.
CHLOE ZUNIGA STEPPED inside the doorway to Haydon’s Half Time and paid no attention to the unholy blast of noise. She was a woman on a mission, and she would not be deterred by chumps with bad manners, lame come-ons or beer breath.