Chance on Love

by Vristen Pierce

  Her face warmed, and she gave him a sheepish grin. “Sorry?”

  He waved her apology away. “We’re going to have to talk specifics.” He turned to Chance. “I’m not sure there’s enough time left to implement a format change before you’re due to be in New Orleans.”

  Stephanie looked at him. “You’re going to Louisiana?” Her heart clenched. She’d known he was leaving, but hearing his next destination made it more real.

  He shrugged. “Next station, next town.”

  “Right,” she said lightly, hoping he couldn’t see how the news affected her. The smug, ruthless bastard would be gone. His charm, his sexiness, his smile, his voice, his laugh...gone. Her cell phone rang from within her purse, snapping her out of her daze. The muffled sounds of Billie Jean filled the otherwise quiet conference room.

  Chance snorted.

  “Shut up,” she muttered as she fished the phone out of her purse and looked at the screen. She frowned. “Excuse me, gentlemen. I need to take this.” She answered as she made her way out of the room. “Yeah?”

  He wasted no time on a greeting. “Frank wants you.”

  Stephanie stifled a yawn. “You think I care?”

  A pause. “I’m not joking. He’s asking to see you and he’s not letting up.”

  She sat down on the chaise lounge outside of the conference room. “And this is my problem because?”

  “Knock it off already. Just see him and be done with it.”

  She gave him an irritated sigh. “I’m not even in the city.”

  “Well, get back.”

  She rubbed her forehead. She didn’t have time for this shit. Frank Alford was hopeless. A rotten, hopeless waste of a human being. The only skill he’d ever possessed was breaking hearts. He shouldn’t get to her on any level. Not anymore.

  And because she still couldn’t help herself, her voice grew quiet as she said, “Fine.”

  Chapter 24

  Chance found Love sitting on the chaise lounge staring down at the phone that now lay in her lap. He squatted down in front of her to look at her face. “What’s wrong?”

  “I need to go back home.”

  “Now?” He frowned. “Why? What happened?”

  Sighing, she ran a hand through her hair. “Valentine, please. I don’t want to go into details. I just need to go.”

  Chance peered into her face. She still wouldn’t meet his eyes. After several long moments, he nodded. “Fine.” He stood up and held out his hand to her. “Let’s go.”

  Her head snapped up then and she shook her head. “Alone. I don’t need a babysitter.”

  Chance clenched his jaw. “I’m not putting you on a plane alone, Love. The rest...we’ll figure out when we get back to Oklahoma City.” He wiggled the fingers of his outstretched hand. “Come on.”

  She hesitated a moment before taking it and standing to face him. Looking up into his eyes, she gave him a tiny, shaky smile. She placed her other hand gently on his chest. “Thank you,” she said quietly.

  His gaze flickered over every inch of her face. God, she was beautiful, her lips close enough that if he bent down just so... And he did lean slightly toward her. Her eyes widened for a second and he came to his senses. “You’re welcome, Love.”

  They stood there peering at one another until the men came out of the conference room.

  “What the hell’s the hold up?” Ross asked with an unlit cigar hanging out the side of his mouth.

  She pulled her hand away from Chance’s chest.

  “We have to go,” he said.

  “Now?” Grant asked, frowning.

  “It’s, uh, sort of an...emergency.” Chance didn’t really know what the hell it was, but the only good reason to leave one of his grandfather’s meetings early was an emergency.

  “You find something better to do, boy? Something urgent?” Ross slid his gaze down to Chance’s hand, which still held Love’s. He lifted an eyebrow as he looked up at each of them in turn.

  They immediately let go.

  After giving up the futile effort to make the two men believe he and Love weren’t hightailing it out of there for a little afternoon delight, they made their hasty exit after saying their goodbyes to the rest of the family.

  Gammy wanted Chance to return as soon as possible to see her. Naturally, he’d agreed to do just that. After making a quick stop at his condo for Love’s clothes, the driver dropped them at the airport hangar.

  With Chewy safely in his carrier, they prepared for takeoff. This time, Love needed no prodding. As soon as the jet began to roll down the runway, she reached over to give him her hand as the other one gripped the armrest. Wordlessly, Chance took it.

  After giving her some time to calm her nerves once they were in the air, he had to ask. “So do you want to tell me what this is about?”

  Love rested her head against the seat and closed her eyes. “No,” she said softly.

  ****

  “Damn it, Valentine, take me home. I’ll get my own car and drive myself.”

  They’d been arguing ever since they’d landed. “I think I should be with you,” Chance said, maneuvering the Jag onto the freeway.

  “What are you, my babysitter? I don’t need a chaperone.”

  “Then tell me what the hell’s going on.”

  “It’s none of your business,” she cried. Crossing her arms, she stared out the passenger window. “Take me home. And you’ll notice that wasn’t phrased as a question.”

  “And you’ll notice I’m ignoring you.” Chance reached down and turned up the volume on the radio.

  “Son of a bitch.” She snapped the radio off before turning to look at him. “You don’t even know where you’re taking me. What are you going to do? Drive around aimlessly all damn day?”

  He shrugged. “If I have to. I mean, you’re right—I don’t know where I’m taking you because you won’t tell me and if—”

  “I won’t tell you because it’s none of your business!”

  “And if that means I drive around aimlessly all day, well,” he glanced at her, “just guess whose fault that would be?” He settled more comfortably in his seat as he drove. “I hope it’s not an actual emergency, Love, because this could take a while.”

  “Perfect example of why I can’t stand you. You pull shit like this.”

  They rode in silence for a few minutes. Chance began to whistle a carefree tune, knowing it would irritate her.

  “Fine,” she said through gritted teeth. “Take me. Anything to shorten the agony of being stuck with you.”

  He smiled, and she gave him directions on how to get to her destination. The farther they drove, the environment grew rougher around the edges. Housing became more dilapidated, stores more vandalized with graffiti.

  He glanced around. “Are you sure we’re headed in the right direction?”

  “I’m sure,” she said with a sigh. After he drove on for a while, she sat up straight in the seat. “Take a left here.” He did and she said, “That house there on the right with the blue truck in front of it, that’s it.”

  Chance lifted his eyebrow.

  Love pointed. “Right there.”

  “I see it; I see it.” He pulled into the driveway behind the truck before cutting the ignition and looking around. The Jag was really out of place in these parts. None of the homes were in great shape, but the old, frame house before them really needed some TLC.

  The roof sagged and was missing more than several shingles. The window to what might have been a bedroom was boarded up with a piece of plywood.

  The screen door was broken. Hanging on only the middle and bottom hinges, it leaned somewhat precariously to the right. The lawn was a disaster area; the grass was worn away to dirt in spots, and well past ankle-height in other areas.

  Trash littered the yard as well—junk food wrappers and plastic bags were strewn around.

  Chance followed her out of the car, making a quick stop to the backseat to get Chewy.

  She held up a hand
. “Where the hell do you think y’all are going?”

  “Where do you think we’re going?”

  She shook her head. “Oh, no. No, no, no. Get back in the car. I can take it from here, thanks.” She whirled around and stomped toward the house. After making it to the door, she glanced back and did a double take when she saw Chance and Chewy close behind.

  She turned with her hands on her hips. “Go away.” She released a string of expletives colorful enough to damn near make him blush.

  Still, he held his ground. “I’m not letting you go in there alone. It looks like a drug den, for God’s sake.”

  She let out a mirthless laugh. “You don’t let me do shit, Valentine. Now get the fuck outta here,” she yelled, pointing toward the car.

  The door creaked open. A gravelly voice said, “Steph, is that you?” The man took a step forward from the shadows of the dark interior and pushed the broken screen door back. His dark green eyes lit up. “I heard a lot of cussin’.” He smiled. “Of course it’s you.”

  Chance snorted.

  She rolled her eyes before turning around. “Let me in, Frank.”

  He stood aside to let them enter. The house reeked of alcohol and not the antiseptic kind. A dim floor lamp in one corner provided only the most meager lighting. Chance was grateful he couldn’t get a good look at the interior of the place.

  “Who’s this?” Frank asked, his words slurred. His clothing was dirty, stained, and torn.

  “A...coworker.” Love glanced at Chewy. “And his little Jackhuahua, too.”

  Frank gestured to the sagging, filthy couch. “Have a seat.” He looked at Love. “Don’t usually have dogs in here, but, you know.”

  Chance almost laughed. “Yes, they can be...unsanitary.” Love shot him a pointed look. “But this one,” he held Chewy up for Frank’s perusal, “is pretty clean.”

  Nodding, he turned back to her. “Stephie,” he stumbled a bit as he took a few steps toward her, “I’ve missed you, baby.” He pulled her in for a hug and she stiffened.

  Chance tensed as well. Who the fuck was this guy and why was he calling Love, ‘baby’?

  “Give me a kiss,” he slurred as he pulled her close.

  Cringing, she pushed him away. “Why did you want to see me, Frank?”

  The man lurched forward a bit, clearly unsteady on his feet. “I told you. I missed you.”

  She folded her arms. “It’s a little too late for that, don’t you think? Look, I shouldn’t have come. But I did expect to get something out of this trip: The satisfaction of looking you straight in the eye and telling you that I want absolutely nothing to do with you anymore. Ever again.”

  Frank tilted his head slowly as if trying to comprehend what he’d just heard. “I love you, baby,” he said, his voice heavy with emotion.

  “You never knew what the hell that was and that’s the problem. Goodbye, Frank. Don’t send me anymore messages.” She marched toward the door.

  Chance began to stand.

  “I need your help, Stephie,” the man cried. His red-rimmed, bleary eyes filled with tears.

  She spun around. Chance dropped back on to his dirty seat on the sagging couch.

  Stopping to pick up an empty whiskey bottle from the scarred, wooden coffee table, she got right in his face. “No, you don’t need me. You never needed me.” She held the bottle up. “You only needed this. You only ever truly loved this!”

  She pushed it to his chest, and he grabbed it. “You’re the one who ruined everything. You’re the one who had to fuck things up by being a cheating, lying bastard.”

  She gave him a cruel smile. “You should feel special. You were the first man to treat me like shit. But, sadly, far from the last.”

  Frank wiped at his eyes as he lurched forward slightly again. “I miss you. Let me make this up to you, please.”

  “It’s not possible.” She squared her shoulders. “Now do me a favor will you?”

  He searched her face. “Anything, baby.”

  Leaning in, she dropped her voice. “Go to hell.”

  Chewy barked and Chance pulled him close to his face. “Now’s not the time, pal,” he said quietly. He watched as Love whirled around and headed for the door again. This time, she made it all the way out.

  Standing, he cleared his throat. This isn’t awkward or anything. “Uh, Frank...it’s been...” He looked around as he eased toward the door with Chewy. “Uh, yeah.” Fortunately, he didn’t have to think of a decent parting remark because Frank was no longer paying him any attention.

  The man had dropped dejectedly on to a threadbare recliner. His shoulders slumped before he leaned forward to drop his head in his hands.

  Chance silently pulled the door closed and made his way to the car. After putting Chewy in the backseat, he slid behind the wheel. “What the fuck was that?” he asked as he started the car.

  Love quirked the corner of her lips as she stared straight ahead. “Father-daughter bonding.”

  Chapter 25

  That short time with dear old Dad had been just what she needed to put her firmly back on the right track. Stephanie was well and truly pissed now. She planned to use that righteous anger to keep her focused on her plan for Valentine. The smug bastard.

  It wasn’t surprising he’d had the gall to invite himself along even when she’d specifically told him to back the hell off. Great. She hoped he’d had a nice, long look at how some of the other half lived. There were no private planes, butlers, mansions, million dollar condos, and diamond platinum necklaces on this side, that was for sure.

  She just knew he’d been secretly laughing at the little display of poverty—when not trying to keep his champagne and caviar down, that is. The fact that he’d actually sat on the couch was enough to bowl her over. He couldn’t just leave well enough alone and drop her off like she’d wanted, could he?

  Pacing her small living room, she seethed with anger. Her father embarrassed her. Not his meager earnings, his shoddy house, or his ragged clothing—she was ashamed of him. Stinking drunk, his speech slurred, and stumbling around like a fucking idiot.

  He’d become a functioning alcoholic after her mom had died. Somehow, he’d managed to hold down a job by sobering up just in time to clock in each day. Unfortunately, once he’d come home, all bets were off. The weekends had been the worst.

  Now, it seemed as if he was beginning to function less and less.

  Whatever. It wasn’t her problem. That’s what he’d chosen. That’s what had been more important than his family. Well, that and the mistress who was God only knew where by now. Apparently, after helping to implode Stephanie’s home life, her job had been done.

  Fucking men always thinking with their stupid dicks. Just like Valentine. And she was definitely going to use that weakness against him. There she’d been, getting starry-eyed over his ruthless playboy ass and why? Because he’d been nice to her a few times? Because he’d bought her a necklace? She was an idiot, pure and simple.

  Chance was nothing but a high-class version of her dad minus the alcoholism. He cared of nothing and no one except whatever happened to further his agenda at any given time.

  It was time to remind herself of one of the reasons why she should be bound and determined to take the son of a bitch down.

  ****

  After pulling her sedan into the driveway of the large, brick home, she walked up the pathway as the cold, sharp wind pierced her skin. Before she could knock, the door opened. She smiled up at him. “Hi.”

  “Get over here, kid.” Kenny opened his arms to her and they shared a big hug.

  Her eyes stung, but she vowed to keep it together. No need to show her mentor she was on the verge of crumbling.

  Pulling back, he searched her face. “You all right?”

  She nodded and he stepped aside to let her enter.

  “Sit down,” he said, closing the door. “I was happy to get a call from you.” He walked over to sit across from her in a large, plush chair.

 
Stephanie looked around. “Is Gwen here?” Kenny’s wife of thirty-three years was a warm-hearted, petite dynamo. Assertive and not one to mince words, she was definitely Stephanie’s kind of woman. Stephanie frowned as she took her coat off. “Am I interrupting a Sunday family dinner or something? I can come back. Really.”

  He waved her comment away. “She’s still making dinner.” He held up a hand when Stephanie opened her mouth. “But you’re not interrupting, kid. What’s going on?”

  The concern in his eyes warmed her currently frozen, dead heart. The ice melted a little and she gave him a shaky smile. “I missed you.”

  He grinned. “I’ve missed you too.” He sat back and narrowed his eyes. “What else?”

  She took a deep breath. Kenny knew all about her rocky relationship with her dad. If anything showed the level of respect she had for him, it was that. Even Amber didn’t know all the dirty details of her dysfunctional early family life—and Stephanie had made it a point never to let anyone come over to her house when she was growing up. “I saw my father today.”

  He cocked his head. “What brought that on?” he asked quietly.

  “My brother called and said Frank needed me.”

  Nodding, he gazed down at the floor. “And you went.”

  She sighed. He was always trying to come up with ways to salvage that which was broken beyond repair. “I didn’t go in order to chat with the man, Kenny.”

  “Then why did you?”

  “To tell him to his face to leave me alone. It’s way too late to play daddy, don’t you think? He was drunk, as usual, of course so who the hell knows if what I said even registered.”

  Kenny turned a sharp gaze on her and she knew he saw through her bravado.

  She averted her eyes. “It’s stupid, all right? You’d think I’d be immune to the crap he pulls, but I’m not. I hadn’t seen or talked to the man in months and suddenly he misses me?”

  “He’s still your father, though. And you care about him, whether you like it or not.”

  “I don’t like it,” she said without hesitation. “It’s crazy... I thought maybe we could have a real discussion about, well, anything. Even that would have been progress. And then I show up to find him drunk. That was the biggest slap in the face he could have given me. I’m done.”