Chance on Love

by Vristen Pierce

  Instead of trying to come up with the best options for breaking her heart, he’d been too busy worrying about her, lusting after her, bantering with her, and sleeping with her.

  Smart. No, it wasn’t just a twisted side of sexual addiction on a heaping plate of hate anymore. He liked her. Could he actually...love her? Chance brushed the thought away. Even if he did love the pain in the ass, he certainly wasn’t foolish enough or masochistic enough to be in love with her.

  He wasn’t an “in love” kind of man. He had perfected the love ‘em and leave ‘em routine. Why abandon that now? And for Love? Shaking his head, he unlocked his office. He could just imagine the two of them married. That would be a nice life of absolutely zero peace and innumerable spousal homicide attempts.

  The knock on the office door snapped him out of his reverie and he spun around. “Love?”

  “Sorry,” Carly said as she peeked in. “It’s just me.”

  He offered her a tight-lipped smile. The brazen brunette was due for some serious job counseling. Ever since becoming News Director, she’d had the power go directly to her head. She may be in a good mood now, but he wasn’t looking forward to the shift once he reprimanded her. “Carly, hi. Please, come in.”

  She strolled in with a radiant smile in place. “I thought I’d come check on where we were exactly.”

  He frowned. “I’m sorry?”

  “With the party,” she said, eyebrows raised. “You were going to consider being my date?”

  “Oh,” he said slowly. “I’m already going with someone—sorry.”

  Nodding, she folded her arms. “Stephanie, by any chance?” When he didn’t respond, Carly shook her head. “Why? I mean, why her? The woman is horrible.”

  Chance smiled. “She’s not that bad.”

  Her eyes widened. “I beg to differ.”

  “She’s tough, but she’s smart as a whip. She’s got horrible taste in music and movies, but she’s funny. She’s honest and...sweet.”

  Carly’s jaw dropped.

  “When she wants to be,” he added quickly, “which is, uh...very, very rarely.” He cleared his throat. “Anyway, she’s gorgeous, and she’s just...something else.”

  Carly studied his face.

  He cocked his head. “What?”

  “You’d better watch it, Chance,” she said softly. “That sounded a lot like you’re in love.”

  He stared at the empty doorway long after she’d left, all thoughts of taking her to task for her job performance forgotten. She was crazy. Stephanie Love wasn’t a woman to fall in love with; she was a woman to run from. A woman he’d definitely get the hell away from—and stay away.

  Walking over to stare out the window, he sighed. Damn it. Only a couple of weeks left. He was really going to miss that exasperating little she-devil. He just hoped it wouldn’t take him too long to forget about her. Even as he hoped, however, he knew it was pointless.

  He would never forget Love.

  ****

  Stephanie jotted the message down on the notepad as she held the phone to her ear. “I’ll have Mr. Valentine give you a call right after I fax the papers off.” She listened for a moment. “Yeah...uh-huh. That’s fine, thank you. Goodbye.”

  “Mr. Valentine?”

  She raised her head to see Carly standing in the open doorway clapping slowly.

  “Brava.”

  Stephanie frowned. “What the hell do you want, Carlene?”

  She took a step into the office. “To congratulate you, of course. Your phone etiquette’s improving. I mean,” she giggled, “one might even think that you weren’t screwing the boss.”

  “Excuse me?”

  Carly waved the question away. “Don’t bother with the phony confusion. Donna told me all about it.”

  “How does Donna know a damn thing about me other than that time I came close to kicking her ass?” Stephanie asked as she stood.

  Carly lifted her expertly manicured eyebrow. “How do you think?”

  Clay, that piece of shit. Stephanie pressed her lips together.

  Sighing, Carly walked farther into the office. “Imagine my surprise when she said Clayton told her that you and Chance had been dating for weeks.” She laughed as she shook her head. “Now, naturally, I didn’t believe it. I mean, come on—you and Chance? You over me? Me?” The bitch looked genuinely confused. And close to tears. That was definitely the best part of this.

  Stephanie put her hands on her hips. “Guess he didn’t feel like going where thousands of men had gone before.”

  Carly folded her arms. “But then,” she said, ignoring Stephanie’s dig, “I go in to talk to him about the Valentine’s Day party and he says he’s already going with someone.” Her tone hardened. “Thanks to Donna’s information, I made a guess.”

  Stephanie gave her a huge smile. “Sorry?”

  Carly stormed up to stand right in front of the desk. “All the times you’ve implied I was some sort of tramp—”

  She tilted her head. “There had to be at least a few times I just came right out and said it.”

  “—when you’re no better. You looked at Chance and saw dollar signs. He’s gorgeous and well off, and you hoped he’d your ticket out of here.”

  “You’re describing yourself, Carlene.”

  Carly looked her up and down. “And you still have the audacity to stand there and look at me with contempt.”

  Stephanie crossed her arms. “I’m not using Chance for his money. I never was.”

  Carly laughed. “Right.”

  “It may be hard for your tiny brain to comprehend this, but he’s more than a wallet. He’s strong and funny and warm-hearted. Yeah, he can be smug, and he likes crappy shoot ‘em up flicks and weird shit from the sixties, but so what? He’s intelligent and charming. He can even be,” she shrugged, “honorable.”

  She thought of how he’d taken the brunt of her abuse just so he could keep Kenny’s secret.

  Carly’s smile slowly evaporated. “Are you...in love with him?”

  “Please. I don’t do love.”

  Looking away, Carly seemed to consider what Stephanie had said. Finally, she turned back to her. “So you are just using him for his money.”

  “Believe whatever the hell you want.” Stephanie jerked her head in the direction of the door. “But get out.”

  “Love,” Chance’s low, sexy voice said from the intercom.

  She smiled at Carly. “Yeah, boss?”

  “Boss?” He was quiet for a moment. “Huh. Get in here.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Carly was practically shaking with anger now. “He was supposed to be mine. My ticket away from this godforsaken station, this whole backwater state!”

  “Ooh,” Stephanie said, grimacing. “Then you’re really not going to like this.” She mustered up the saddest expression she could. “Ross Lucas...?”

  Carly gave her a wary look. “What about him?”

  “He’s Chance’s grandfather.”

  Carly’s mouth dropped open.

  Stephanie laughed. “So, yeah, Chance is way past ‘well off’.” She leaned toward her adversary’s surgically enhanced face. “He’s filthy...fucking...rich.”

  Carly began to sputter. “But Chance—Ross Lucas is—I didn’t—”

  Stephanie picked up the papers she had to fax. “Sucks to be you, huh?” She headed out the door with Carly right behind.

  “You only went after him because you knew I wanted him!”

  “Whatever,” Stephanie said as she kept walking.

  “I’ll get you back for this,” Carly said.

  She frowned. “You can’t hurt me.”

  “Trust me. I’m going to give it a shot.”

  She stopped walking and turned to put her face directly in Carly’s. “Make it good.”

  A man’s voice came from the direction of the building’s entrance. “Stephie,” he cried.

  Stephanie looked toward the sound—and she winced. She knew that slurred voice all too
well.

  Chapter 29

  “God, no,” she said under her breath as she sidestepped Carly.

  “Stephie,” he called again. Looking around wildly, he came into view. “Where’s my baby girl?” He pushed a production assistant away when he came up to help him. “I don’t want to have a seat. I want to see my—” His eyes connected with hers, and he pointed. “There’s my girl.” He walked on unsteady feet toward her.

  Whirling around, she took a few deep breaths. They did nothing to calm her.

  Carly grimaced as she looked past her. “Is that...your dad?” Laughing, she held her stomach.

  Stephanie walked away.

  “Stephie, get back here,” Frank yelled.

  She kept moving—right toward Chance’s office, and she didn’t stop until she was inside. Immediately shutting the door, she leaned against it. Her chest heaved as her knees threatened to give out.

  “You took your sweet ass time getting in here, Love. And after all that ‘boss’ and ‘sir’ shi—” He looked at her and immediately stood. “What’s wrong?” he asked as he came toward her.

  She shook her head. “He’s...he’s here. Why did he have to come here?” She started shaking with anger and humiliation.

  “Who’s here?”

  “Frank.”

  Chance blew out a long breath and ran his hand over his face. “Shit.”

  “Exactly.”

  “I’ll get rid of him, Love.” He grabbed her hand. “Don’t worry.”

  She peered up into those eyes she had come to love. “How?”

  “I’ll throw him out on his ass if I have to—what do you mean how?”

  Stephanie gave him a shaky smile. “Okay.”

  He pulled her to him and hugged her.

  Closing her eyes, she wrapped her arms around his waist. Before her meltdown the other night, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d needed to be taken care of. But she felt that way now—again. And for some reason beyond her understanding, she knew she could count on Chance to do just that.

  They sprang apart when the door burst open. Frank stood there, swaying slightly. “Stephie...why’d you walk away from me?” His bleary eyes filled with confusion.

  Carly peeked in. “I thought I’d help your dad by showing him where he’d be most likely to find you.” She gave Stephanie and Chance a huge smile.

  Biting her lip, Stephanie lowered her head.

  “Thank you, Carly. That’ll be all.” Chance wrapped his arm around Stephanie’s shoulder, pulling her to him.

  “But I—”

  He lowered his voice. “Get out,’ he said slowly.

  Stephanie looked up in time to see Carly roll her eyes and stomp off down the hall.

  “Come in, Frank.”

  “Thank you.” Squinting, he said, “You’re that fella with the dog.” He ambled into the room on slightly unstable feet.

  “Yeah.” Chance walked over to close the door before turning back to the man. “Listen, Frank. Now’s neither the place nor the time to have a heart to heart with Love. I’ll call you a cab. You can go home, sleep it off, and we’ll see about doing this another time.” He moved toward his desk.

  Frank pointed at his back. “Now you hold on there. Who the hell are you to tell me to make a damn appointment to talk to my own little girl?”

  Chance sighed and turned around. “She’s not a little girl anymore, Frank. Something tells me you missed most of that.”

  Sneering, Frank rushed over to him. “You son of a—” He swung and Chance caught his fist in his hand. Frank struggled to yank it from his grasp. When Chance let go, Frank tumbled backward to the floor.

  Faxes long forgotten, Stephanie dropped the papers she’d been holding. “My God,” she said breathlessly. She grabbed handfuls of her hair as she stared down at him. “What the hell is wrong with you?” she cried. “You can’t even see how pathetic you are? Or is it that you just don’t care?”

  Frank pushed himself to a sitting position, peering up at her with wet, red-rimmed eyes. “I just want to talk to you,” he said softly.

  “How many times do I have to tell you?” She bent down and raised her voice. “We have nothing to talk about.”

  “We have everything to talk about!”

  Chance held out his hand. “Get up.”

  Frank looked at him for a moment before accepting the help to stand. He swayed a couple times after turning to look at Stephanie. “You look just like Vicki.”

  She crossed her arms. “I won’t discuss my mother with you.”

  Taking a step toward her, he tilted his head as he frowned. “Why not?”

  Stephanie threw her head back. “You have got to be kidding me,” she cried before turning her furious attention directly to him. “It’s your fault she’s dead, you son of a bitch!”

  Chance’s quiet, “What?” barely registered. Frank had opened a door she’d prayed would forever stay closed.

  She walked toward him, catching the reeking scent of alcohol, as always. “Your cheating wore her down and made her a shell—a fucking shell—of the woman she used to be. And after you ran off without a second thought, she struggled every single day to take care of her kids. Where were you? Sleeping with some random floozy, that’s where.”

  They’d never been a financially comfortable family when they’d been getting by on Frank’s mechanic wages, but things had definitely soured once he’d taken off for parts unknown. Getting married and becoming a stay-at-home mother right out of high school hadn’t afforded her mom with many lucrative job prospects once she’d suddenly had to fend for a family of six alone.

  “You didn’t care about us. So you’ll have to accept that your drunken regret does absolutely nothing for me.” She jabbed her finger against his chest. “You are nothing to me—just as I was to you my whole life. You’ve forgotten I existed before, Frank. Do it again. Please.”

  His eyes filled with tears. “I made a mistake, baby.”

  “A mistake is forgetting to pick up dinner on the way home. You abandoned your family, you asshole!”

  He shook his head as he looked down at the floor.

  “Or,” Stephanie said, clasping her hands in front of her face, “was the mistake breaking your wedding vows and taking a mistress? I forget. No, no...” She snapped her fingers as she began pacing. “Maybe it was running off with her after springing a divorce on my mother. Let’s see... We’ve already established that ditching your children was a ‘mistake’ so what else is there? Oh yeah,” she said, laughing without humor. “Maybe it was all the ‘regret’ you felt after Mom killed herself. You fell into a bottle and never managed to crawl out. Wow. Impressive, Frank. So many mistakes.”

  “I...” His chin quivered. “I loved her.”

  “Oh, and you proved it as only you could.” She held up a hand to stop him when he opened his mouth to speak. “It’s not all bad, though, Frank. Don’t worry. One thing you did give me was a backbone. I watched my mom suffer because of you. I saw what love gave her. Wasn’t much.” Her eyes began to sting.

  “She died trying to ease her pain, and it killed me that that means she died because of you. A man who was never remotely worth the heartache you caused. But then, my pain gave way to an anger that has stayed with me since. I vowed never to be as weak and as vulnerable as she was for you. I wanted to be stronger, tougher, than my mother was, than all the poor fools out there who fall victim to some stupid emotion called love.” She narrowed her eyes. “And I succeeded.”

  She sighed, her fury giving way to weariness. “Love doesn’t last. Most of the time, it’s not even real—it’s just an illusion. And if you let your guard down, people are just waiting to fuck you over.” She glared at him. “So thank you, Father. You did teach me something.”

  She walked out of the office with her head high.

  ****

  Chance took a deep breath as he tried to wrap his mind around all that Love had inadvertently revealed to him. No wonder she had a guard up. She wasn’t
a bratty pain in the ass; she was hurting. Well, she was still a pain in the ass, but she was his.

  “Sit down,” Chance said to the man.

  Frank regarded him with suspicious, watery eyes. “Why?”

  “Because you look like you’re going to fall down. Now sit.”

  Frank slowly walked over to sit in one of the chairs in front of Chance’s desk. He ran his hands over his face and groaned. “Stephie’s really mad at me.”

  “That seems like an understatement.” Chance sat on the edge of his desk and peered down at the man. There had to be something salvageable in him. It would just be hell finding it. Whatever Love’s mother had seen in him years ago was well hidden now. Love already had a dad in Kenny, thank goodness, but it would help if her biological father wasn’t so...Frank.

  “You need serious help.”

  He nodded. “You’ll talk to her for me? She seems to like you more than she likes most people.”

  Chance gave the man a sad smile. “Not that kind of help. You need to sober up and stay that way. Get your life in order. Then, no one will need to talk to Love for you. You’ll be able to do it yourself.”

  Frank shook his head. “That won’t help.”

  “Yet you think stumbling in drunk to visit her at work is a good start?”

  Frank looked down at his lap.

  “You talk quite a bit about being sorry and about loving her—”

  “I am and I do,” he said softly.

  “Then stop talking, Frank, and prove it.” Chance sighed. “I’ll get you some help. But it won’t do a bit of good unless you want it.”

  He was quiet so long, Chance wasn’t sure he’d reply. Finally, he looked him in the eye. “I’ll do it.”

  Chance arched his eyebrow.

  “For my kids, I’ll do it,” he said with more conviction. Standing, he reached out his hand to Chance. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” He shook the man’s hand. “I know you’re Love’s father so I say this with all due respect, sir. You hurt her again—one more time...” He pulled Frank’s hand, bringing the man closer, and lowered his voice, “I’ll kill you myself.”