by Leigh Morgan
SECOND CHANCES
by
Leigh Morgan
KINDLE EDITION
PUBLISHED BY:
Leigh Morgan on Amazon
Second Chances
Copyright © 2011 by Leigh Morgan
Cover art by Vince Milewski
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
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...
Dedication
For my family.
Aidanne and Cian, who continue to believe they have the best parents in the world.
And for our family in Pontrhydyfen, whose hearts are as beautiful as their country.
(Mary, Gareth, Lynda, Emma, Mark, Robert, Layla, Jack, Rhys, Molly, Iori & Evan)
And for my best friend, the keeper of my heart, Vince. With you all things are possible.
...
SECOND CHANCES
There were two of them lounging in his bathtub, immersed in what appeared to be copious amounts of spaghetti. He was going to kill the concierge, or who ever let Bimbo and Bimbet into his suite. The thought that the hotel was going to have a hell of a time getting vats of pasta out of the oversized Jacuzzi assuaged some of his anger, but just some.
Leaning against the door jamb, Ramsey Macleod crossed his arms over his chest and threw both women his trademark grin. He knew it didn’t reach his eyes, it rarely did these days. Bimbo and Bimbet didn’t seem to notice, if they had they’d be halfway down the hall by now given his reputation for trashing hotel rooms when he was unhappy. A reputation that he’d earned ten years ago and had yet to live down.
Ram hit the button on his pager summoning his head of security, so he didn’t need to be the hardass. Stark would take over that role soon enough. He’d learned long ago not to handle any issue himself that Ben Stark could handle for him. Stark was simply better at getting rid of trouble, not to mention more polite.
“I didn’t think you were into sharing, Becca. You never were before.” Ram raised an eyebrow at the raven haired woman he’d dated far too long.
“I had to do something to get your attention. You haven’t been taking my calls.” Her affected sultriness grated, making Ram’s jaw tighten.
“You’ve got my attention now. What was it about ‘have a good life’ you didn’t understand? I thought I made myself pretty clear. I expected our last meeting to be our last meeting. Ever.”
Becca shook her full mane of ink black hair and shot him a wounded expression he knew from experience was totally false. The woman just didn’t do wounded.
“You know you didn’t mean that. Besides, I’ve changed my mind. I think we should get married. I can be faithful, Ram.” She batted her thick eyelashes at him and her tone deepened again. “The two of us were good together. Stunning, even. All the tabloids said so.”
Ram would have laughed, but he was afraid Becca would take it as an invitation to take this farce to the next level, something he didn’t have the stomach or the patience for. Where the hell was Stark?
“This is your idea of being faithful?”
“Of course.” Becca smiled and leaned over to give her blond counterpart an open-mouthed kiss. “I didn’t touch her, at least not before you got here. We were waiting for you.”
Ram just turned and walked away.
Stark let himself in and met Ram’s gaze without a word. Ram nodded toward the bathroom and before he knew it Stark was ushering two starched and toweled women from his room. One befuddled. “Don’t you like girls Ram?” And one irate. “I’ll get you for this Ramsey.” Stark handled them both with respect and the quiet authority he was known for.
Five years ago Ram would have been flattered by Becca’s impromptu appearance. Hell, ten years ago he would have taken a nose dive into that tub and come up with a blond in one hand and brunette in the other. He had done exactly that after his first U.S. tour. Since he was only twenty at the time he didn’t beat himself up about it. That was then. Now he was older and if not wiser, at least he was more discriminating.
Becca had obviously heard about some of his more seedy escapades and tried to recreate a moment he wasn’t exactly sorry he’d experienced, but didn’t want to experience again. She must have been desperate. She didn’t lean toward women in his experience. Plenty of men, but never women.
It was moments like these that had Ram rethinking the path he’d cleared for himself twelve years ago when he’d laid down his first hit. It was a good path then. Now he wanted a real life, with a family that consisted of more than anorexic super models and burned-out roadies.
Ram knew he was whining. He’d gotten everything he thought he’d wanted. Fortune and fame just weren’t all they were cracked up to be. He’d trade both for a wife who loved him for the man he was now, not because of his wealth and fame. The Beatles had sure gotten it right. Money couldn’t buy him love.
Ramsey pulled out his cell and speed dialed his manager. “Frank, find out whoever is responsible for letting Becca into my suite. I want them gone. If you knew about this, pack your bags. Stark will cut you a severance check. Cancel the rest of the tour, Frank. I’m done.”
Ram listened to the sputtering on the other end of the phone with half an ear. He didn’t really care if cancelling the next show trashed the band, he was looking to go solo anyway. This little event just gave him an excuse to disappear for awhile.
“You’re not hearing me Frank. Tonight was the last show of this tour. I’m outta here.” Ram held the cell away from his ear as his manager screamed about contract clauses and ‘substantial compliance’.
When Frank was no longer roaring but pleading Ram continued. “No not for a few days. Can whoever knew about this shit, I mean it. If it ever happens again the whole crew is fired and I’ll sue your ass. I’ll call you in a couple of months.” Ram hung up before he threw away his entire career. He knew better than most that in his business you were only as good as your next show. Unfortunately for his crew, the way he was feeling the rest of the tour would tank and no one would make any money.
Frank would issue a press release saying that Ram came down with something and the remaining shows would have to be rescheduled. They were on the last leg of the tour anyway. Their last stop was Milwaukee, a venue Ram usually loved. They’d reschedule in the fall and he’d make sure to give the best show he knew how to give.
It was going to be his farewell show with Purple Orchid, although the band didn’t know it yet. Ram wanted a second chance at a real life. That was worth jeopardizing his next contract for.
Some days it sucked being a rock star.
...
“William. Are you li
stening to me?”
When William finally looked at her, Rhia wondered when exactly in the course of their seventeen year marriage he’d learned the fine art of tuning her out completely.
“I heard you Rhia. There are two weeks worth of frozen meals for the kids. Oh, and by the way, you want me to clear out the rest of my stuff before you get back from Wales.” William waived the spoon from his cereal bowl in the air. “Yadda, yadda, yadda.”
Rhia sat at her kitchen table next to her ex-husband. “We’ve been divorced six months. Don’t you think it’s time you stopped sleeping in the guest room?” Rhia asked.
Their children were already gone for the summer at their grandparent’s ranch and Rhia finally had the time and the opportunity to do the research she’d wanted to do since grad school.
“William, you know it’s time for both of us to move on. I’ve got the chance to do my research on Celtic goddesses, and you’ve got a chance to do something other than work sixty hours a week.” Rhia was being more open and honest with William than she’d been in years. Funny how finally admitting her marriage was over freed her to see the good in William again. He really was a decent man, for the most part. She just wanted more than a decent man who made time for his family only after work and his golf game.
If she ever contemplated a serious relationship again, which was doubtful, Rhia would pick a man who was capable of using the words ‘hot’ and ‘Rhiannon’ in the same sentence. Of course this mythical man would also want only her and not every twenty-two year old intern who worked for him. Rhia shook off the thought. The last thing she needed now was a man in her life...
Rhia pulled her t-shirt away from her neck. There’d be plenty of time for that when she left. It was time for her to make some positive changes in her life, she thought with a smile. It was time for her to explore her inner warrior woman, just like the Celtic goddesses she yearned to write about. Rhia intended to come back to Milwaukee at the end of the summer more independent and experienced, a woman capable of taking on life’s challenges on her own, without a man who considered her an after thought. She didn’t want William, or his presence, in her house when she returned. She had no intention of falling into old habits.
William shoved his face closer to his cereal bowl. “My condo’s almost done.” He muttered.
“You have to leave William. This isn’t doing either one of us any good. I don’t mind if you stay here awhile, just make sure you’re out of here before school starts. I want a fresh start.” Rhia finished her coffee wondering why they hadn’t shared breakfast together while they were actually married.
William looked into his cereal bowl as if he weren’t certain what he was supposed to do with its contents. He’d stopped eating when Rhia said she wanted him out of her house. She studied her ex with the eyes of a woman no longer tainted by hurt and expectation.
With his athlete’s body and silver streaked dark hair William was still a fine looking man; better looking at forty than he had been at twenty-two when she married him. Being one of Milwaukee’s most successful litigators hadn’t hurt his appeal either. Rhia didn’t know how many women he’d fallen into bed with over the years, and she no longer cared. She had a second chance at life and she was going to take it, without looking back. Looking at William no longer filled Rhia with regret for what might have been, she was too busy looking forward to her independence.
“I’m comfortable here. I like it. I like you too.” William sounded like a little boy who had just been told he couldn’t keep an old toy he hadn’t played with in years.
“If you wanted to keep the house, you should have bought me out.”
“It’s not the house.” William’s pleading brown eyes held hers, Rhia remained unmoved.
Rhia got up and put her coffee cup in the dishwasher. Her bags were packed. She’d kissed Ethan and Hunter good-bye before they went on their annual pilgrimage to their grandparents’ ranch just west of Yellowstone. They both had summer jobs lined up when they got back. They wouldn’t even know she was gone.
“You can’t have a family and be single at the same time William. It doesn’t work that way. You made your choice a long time ago. I made the choice to move on. Let’s stick with that.” Rhia kissed the top of his head and grabbed the keys to her minivan.
“I’m willing to sell you the house if you still want it. If not, I expect to pick up the kids at your condo at the end of the summer.”
Rhia left feeling lighter than she had in months.
Sometimes being a history professor on sabbatical really rocked.
CHAPTER TWO
Summers in Milwaukee were magical for Rhia. She spent all year planning for the festivals and art fairs she would attend. She wasn’t one of those people who hate the humidity and unpredictable temperature swings that are part of southeastern Wisconsin’s charm. For Rhia, Wisconsin summers were just about perfect, give or take a few mosquitoes. That’s why it was so hard for her to leave Milwaukee this summer.
But leave she would. She wasn’t looking to date and she sure didn’t need a relationship. She wanted to focus on her career and her research, now that she finally had no commitments. Unfortunately, she also wanted to get laid.
Marrying her college sweetheart before twenty-one necessarily curtailed the variety of her sexual experience. But that was then, Rhia thought, and this is now. Her lack of experience was fixable and she was a woman on a mission. She was peaking and there were things she’d like to try that she’d only read about. It was ‘use it or lose it’ time and she had no intention of losing one more moment.
One thing for certain, if she wasn’t looking for a serious relationship, she couldn’t stay in Milwaukee and explore her sexuality. Where could she go in the city and not risk meeting a student, former student, or colleague? Worse yet, what if she was on the prowl and ran into one of William’s partners? The idea alone was enough to make her sick.
She wanted a sex life again, but not badly enough to search for it in Milwaukee. She wanted, needed really, down and dirty-lick-the-salt-off-your-skin sex, but she didn’t want to ruin her career getting it, especially now when she had a grant to publish.
Having the summer to herself gave her the opportunity to finish her research on Celtic warrior women and expand her sexual repartee’. With the divorce settlement and her savings she had the finances to accomplish both goals. She could get far away from Milwaukee and go where the goddesses and warrior women she wanted to write about originated, Britain.
Rhia decided to focus her research in Wales, where she’d rented a house for the summer. Originally she was supposed to have the castle-like structure to herself, but she’d just been notified that the owner was exercising his option to occupy his section of the house. The realtor insisted Rhia wouldn’t even know the owner was there, as apparently he was something of a recluse and valued his privacy.
The realtor had given her a three-thousand dollar refund, since she’d be sharing the house, so she could afford to rent a car and travel throughout Wales and Scotland. She wouldn’t be in the house long enough to bother, or be bothered by, an old recluse.
Her luggage had been misplaced somewhere between Chicago and London. The airline was doing its best to track it, but she’d been informed it could take weeks. They promised to have it delivered to her rental home as soon as it arrived, but in the mean time she was stuck with the clothes on her back and the contents of her carry on, which consisted mostly of books, her lap-top and various other items she’d need if the right moment presented itself.
At least she had her tooth brush, make-up and passport, as well as the directions to her rental which she’d been assured was ‘just up the road’. That was several hours ago.
Apparently no one in Wales knew how to find Pontrhydyfen. It was a small country, how hard could it be to find one small village? Southern Wales was full of hills and narrow roads, unfortunately it all looked the same to Rhia. She’d been driving, on the wrong side of the road no less, for hours and
she’d swear she was going in circles.
Since her Vauxhall had the most inept GPS system ever (with a British man’s voice that she affectionately named Jeeves) Rhia leaned over slightly to consult her MapQuest directions which were liberally annotated with directions she’d been able to glean from the locals. Their dialect was musical, but that didn’t make it any easier to understand.
Looking up from her illegible scribbles Rhia screamed and hit the brakes of her rental car hard. Her car tires screeched, laying down a thick layer of tread as she skidded to a halt less than a foot from a stray sheep standing in the middle of the road.
Her rapid stop brought the items from her carry on flying into the front of her car. She kicked one of the books away from the pedals as she put the vehicle in park. Rhia pushed her hair from her face and growled at the fluffy impediment blocking the road. She was tired, hungry and in desperate need of a bath. She didn’t need one more thing to go wrong before she got to her rental house and slept for the next three days.
Rhia growled again. The sheep didn’t move.
Beeping her horn she hung her head out the open window and tried reasoning with it. “Hey buddy, unless you want to be stew meat, get out of the road. Shoo. Come on you can do it. Get.” Rhia tried the horn again to no avail. “Damn it.”
So much for reason. The damn thing probably only spoke Welsh.
Rhia tried working her car around the sheep. The beast moved with the car. If the car inched right, it moved right. When she stopped, it stopped.
“What’s wrong with you? You want to be road kill?” Rhia was shouting now, so completely absorbed in her diatribe that everything fell into the back ground. Except the sheep.