by Sarah Hegger
“Oh, no.” Eric smiled. “I’ll take care of this myself.”
Brett took a step away from him. “You’re one scary motherfucker, Evans. You know that?”
Yeah, he did know that, and soon Chase Gunning would know it too.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Eric grabbed coffee and muffins on his way to see Chase the next morning. He’d spent the night making calls and now he was ready.
Chase’s temporary offices occupied a small space above the new coffee shop, Mugged, not too far from Bella’s. He’d been using the space since he first came to Ghost Falls.
Looking up as he opened the door, Miranda smiled. “Eric. Were we expecting you?”
He didn’t know what, if any, part Miranda had had in Chase’s strategy.
“You weren’t expecting me.” He put a coffee on her desk. “Nonfat chai latte, if I remember correctly.”
Her smile broadened. “You remembered perfectly.”
“Is Chase in?” Eric held up a second cup. “Black, plain.”
Miranda nodded and sipped her latte. “He’s on his way now. It shouldn’t be too much longer.”
“May I?” Eric indicated the sand colored sofa against the wall.
“Please.” Miranda gestured.
He sat and put the muffins on Miranda’s desk. He’d be surprised if she ate one. She had the look of a woman who watched everything she ate.
Cup in her hand, Miranda sat back and studied him. “Chase said your meeting went well last night.”
“Yes.” That was one way of putting it. “Very informative.”
The look in her onyx eyes sharpened as she sipped her latte. “Why am I getting the impression you’re here for something other than accepting our offer?”
“Our?” He raised an eyebrow. “I’m still trying to ascertain exactly what your involvement in this has been.”
“Involvement?” She put her cup on her blotter and adjusted it to fit in the corner. “Why don’t you ask what you came here to ask?”
Eric cut to the chase. “Did you know Chase was behind all the trouble we’ve been having on Highgate?”
Her expression didn’t change. She sat perfectly still and looked at him. “That’s a fairly large accusation you’re making there, Eric.”
No shock and no outraged protestations of innocence. Either she had a great poker face, or she must have known, suspected at the very least.
“Of course, if I handed my proof to my brother he’d here instead of me.” Eric sipped his coffee and sat back in the sofa. He crossed his ankle over one knee. “My brother, the sheriff, that is.”
“Ah.” Her lips twitched as if she was enjoying the game they were playing. He found it hard to believe that there had been a time when women like Miranda did it for him.
Not anymore. Now he wanted someone who didn’t see relationships as a battleground. A woman who knew how to love. A home that wrapped comfort around him when he went there.
Miranda wiped her thumb across the lipstick stain on her coffee cup and then used a tissue on her thumb. “Would you believe me if I protested my innocence?”
“I’m not sure.” He shrugged. “I’m also not sure it really matters any more.”
“Blythe Barrows.” Miranda cocked her head. “I never stood a chance did I?”
“No.” He saw no reason to sugarcoat this. Miranda was a big girl, and she could take care of herself. “At the time I didn’t realize it if that helps.”
“Not really.” She pulled a face. “But you needn’t concern yourself with me. Merely a bruised ego. No permanent damage done.” She glanced to the door. “Chase has just arrived.”
“Good.” Eric looked forward to this. “Just for the record, how aware were you?”
“You don’t expect me to answer that.” She smirked. “At least not honestly.”
No, he hadn’t, and he sipped his coffee as Chase opened the door.
He caught sight of Eric and stopped. “Eric? We didn’t have a meeting today.” He checked his watch. “I really wish you’d called first because I don’t have time for this.”
“You’ll make time.” Eric stood. “Do you want to do this in front of Miranda or not?”
Chase did an almost adorable confused look. “I’m not sure I understand? What are we doing?”
“Yes, Eric.” Miranda leaned back in her chair. “What are we doing?”
They were cool customers. Eric would give them that. “I believe this is the part where I lay down all my accusations and you protest your innocence. I then point out that I have witnesses. Let you know that Ray and his buddies have rolled over on you.”
“I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.” Chase pointed to the coffee. “Is that for me?”
“My treat.” Eric smiled. “We both know me standing here and accusing you is going to get nowhere. Frankly, I’m too busy to bother.” He stood and straightened the crease of his suit pants. “You tried to reduce the value of Evans Construction so you could step in and rescue it for chump change.” Eric dropped the piece of paper into a crumpled ball on Miranda’s desk. “There’s no point to my reading that.” He held up his hand to stop Chase from speaking. “I know. You’re innocent. How dare I. You’ll sue.”
Chase went still and scrutinized him. Here, at last, was the real Chase Gunning. The ruthless predator and not bothering to hide it. “Let’s assume for a minute you’re right.” He sipped his coffee. “Accusations that I categorically deny, but let’s assume. What are you going to do about it? You sunk all your available capital into Highgate and now it’s gone belly up.”
“I have people ready to swear they took your dollar to disrupt my site.” Eric let that sink in. “I did my homework on you too, Gunning. You’re arrogant and that has always been your downfall. You should have sent someone else to do your dirty work.”
Chase chuckled. “Again, I have no idea what you’re talking about. But I was going to send around a document by courier this morning with a fair offer for Evans Construction. What it’s worth today. In light of all the trouble you’ve had.”
“That’s your arrogance again.” Eric wagged a finger at him. “Did you really think one project would break us?”
Chase’s confidence faltered and he glanced at Miranda.
Ah well, it was too much to hope that she hadn’t known all along.
He turned to Miranda. “You should have dug a little deeper.”
“Clearly.” The woman was still enjoying this. Eric didn’t envy Chase that.
“Now, we both know this could tie us both up for months,” Eric said. “So, here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to give me the labor and raw materials, at your expense to fix the Highgate site.”
“You’re insured,” Miranda said, looking more intrigued than concerned.
Eric shrugged. “Yeah but I’m losing my no-claims bonus and my premiums are going sky high after this.” He tried to look apologetic, but he’d spent all night setting up and he wanted his moment too much. “As I was saying, you’re going to fix what you broke, but you’re also going to do it where you came from. As in not close enough for me to catch sight of either of you.”
“Or what?” Chase sneered.
“Great question.” Eric beamed at him. “Or your loans are getting called in”—he checked his watch—“in about ten minutes if I don’t call first. You will also lose the Patterson and Beaulieu contracts you’re about to sign.” He shrugged. “And all this after I take my proof to the authorities.”
Chase glanced at Miranda.
She was watching Eric as if she found him fascinating. “You sound very confident that you can do all this.”
He pushed his hands out, palms up. “I am, and I can do all these things because this is what happens when you spend your career not screwing people over.”
* * * *
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Blythe waited for Chase to arrive for his regular appointment. He was late, which he never had been before, but clients were often late, and she didn’t let it stress her. There was only so much she could do and if they chose to cut their time short, the loss was theirs.
Chase arrived, dressed in a suit. He gave her a tight smile. “Sorry I’m late. Is there somewhere we can talk?”
Randy raised his eyebrows behind Chase’s back.
Blythe shrugged. She had no idea either. “In my office.” Blythe led the way.
Following her, Chase closed the door behind them.
Blythe indicated his suit and tie. “I assume you’re not training today?”
“No.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, looking uneasy for the first time since she’d known him. “Actually, I’m not going to be able to train with you any longer.”
“I see.” Damn, she really didn’t like losing clients. Particularly with things as they stood at the moment. Still these things happened, and she needed to move forward. After all she’d done, she was not going to let Blake break her. She’d come too far. Kim needed her, and when he got better, Will was going to need her more than ever. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Listen, this is not my place, but I like you Blythe. I feel a connection with you, and I don’t want to see you get hurt,” he said.
Nothing good could come of a conversation that started like that. “Okay.”
“I’m gonna level with you.” He sighed. “I know you and Eric Evans are a thing. I’ve known about it since I first came here.”
Chase needed to update his information. “We’re not a thing.”
“Really?” Chase frowned. “Because my information indicates otherwise.”
She wasn’t going to argue with him. It was none of his business. “I’m not really sure where you’re going with this, Chase.”
“Right.” He refocused. “It’s just that if you and Eric were a thing, you should know not to trust him.”
Now she really didn’t like where it was going, but she’d spent eighteen years keeping the details of her and Eric’s relationship to herself, and she and Chase were not close enough for her to share any of that with him.
Frustration tightened his features, and he broke the silence. “Eric has been seeing my associate Miranda Patel.” He thumbed up a picture on his phone and showed it to her. “They’ve been an item since we arrived in Ghost Falls.”
The woman in the picture with Eric looked perfect for him. Beautiful, sophisticated, elegant and classy, she was Eric’s female match. Except for one thing. The woman in the picture looked cold and contained.
As much as Eric appeared to be the same, he wasn’t. Eric burned molten gold at his core. He loved his family, and he loved his friends. He gave of himself freely and he needed that warmth around him.
Blythe handed Chase’s phone back to him. Chase was after something. He had the same look in his eyes Pat got when he thought he had the upper hand. Only her desire to find out Chase’s endgame kept the conversation going. “She’s beautiful.”
“Yes, she is.” Chase watched her as if trying to find the chink in her armor. “Eric certainly thinks so.”
Chase had a good game face, but he was pushing too hard, and he had from the beginning. Pat would never have made such a rookie error. The way Chase had tried to ingratiate himself with her, provide that manly shoulder for her to lean on. Then the way he’d seen a gap and tried to forge that connection between them.
He stared at her expectantly.
Blythe held his gaze, but gave him nothing.
Chase smoothed down his tie and cleared his throat. He shoved his hands in his pockets. “I do my research on my business partners and that includes anyone associated with them.” He produced his charming smile but it was looking a bit forced and worn around the edges. “I wanted to see who you were and what Eric saw in you. After I met you, I came because I liked you, wanted to be near to you. I still want that.”
In much the same way as a rattlesnake cozied up to a mongoose. “Huh.”
He stepped closer to her. “I know you’re having some trouble right now, too.” He spread his hands in a manner that was meant to be disarming.
“And?” Blythe kept her anger off her face. Pat and her brothers had given her a lifetime of experience in dealing with scumbags. You never showed your hand first. Part of her was also curious as hell where he was going.
Chase gave her a charming smile. “I’m a man in a position to help you.” His gaze crawled over her in an unmistakable message that made her want to shower. “I’m known to be generous with my…friends.”
As long as his friends dropped neatly into line. “We’re not friends.”
“Eh?” He blinked at her. “Of course we are. I’m here to warn you Eric is messing around on you. There’s no reason for you to hang around for a man who’s making a fool of you.”
“Really.” She almost laughed.
“I’m here to save you.” His perma-smile faltered. “If revenge is your thing, then I can make sure Eric never stops regretting the day he let you go.”
“If I sleep with you.”
Chase’s face tightened in anger. “I was talking about something more permanent than sex.”
“Get out.” She didn’t bother hiding her contempt.
Chase scowled at her. “I came here because I care about you. To save you from yourself. Eric Evans is laughing at you behind your back with Miranda.”
No, Eric wasn’t and the truth hit Blythe like a ton of bricks. She trusted Eric. Trusted him that he would never see anyone behind her back. Trusted him with her family. Trusted him with her pain and her vulnerabilities. Trusted him with every part of her.
Blythe grabbed her bag, brushed past Chase and opened her office door. She walked into the gym, not caring if Chase followed or crawled back under his rock. She had somewhere she needed to be.
Chase had come there with that stupid picture, so sure she would gobble up his lies.
Randy looked up as she approached. “You okay, Blythe?”
“I’m more than okay.” For the first time since that awful day she’d left Eric, she felt wonderful. Goddamn incredible. “I’m leaving. And I won’t be back for the rest of the day.”
Chase yelled after her, “I’m not done talking to you, Blythe.”
“What do you want me to do with that?” Randy jerked his head at Chase.
Blythe glanced back at him. “I really don’t care.”
Truth be told, Chase had done her a favor. If he hadn’t shown her that stupid picture, she might have gone on floundering in uncertainty. She’d like to think that eventually she would have gotten there on her own, but that didn’t matter now. None of that mattered. Joy bubbled up and she laughed aloud. Not for one second had she considered Chase might be telling her the truth.
Blythe Barrows loved Eric Evans and trusted that Eric Evans loved her right back.
Chapter Forty
Eric poured himself a single malt and stood looking out at the view from his sitting room. Like he’d done in Denver, he’d built his house himself. Unlike the Denver house, the space cried out for love and laughter, family and warmth. It cried out for Blythe and a beginning to all those things.
Matt had taken the news about Gunning remarkably well.
“You always felt like something wasn’t right,” he’d said. “As always your instincts were spot on. We’ll get through this.”
Eric’s calls to outflank Chase had unearthed a couple of promising leads. He and Matt wouldn’t consider another merger, but there were some interesting financing options out there for them. Like he’d said to Chase, you do business honestly and people wanted to do it with you. Evans Construction would fight on, grow bigger and better from here, because together the Evans brothers could do anything.
He
checked his phone, but Blythe hadn’t called. When he’d left her place the other morning, he’d been hoping she would call him first and give him some indication that she might change her mind.
The single malt created a pleasant simmer in his belly. It was probably still too soon, but Eric didn’t intend to give up on her. She’d made huge strides toward forgiving Brett and that gave him hope.
The doorbell rang and he went to the door.
Blythe stood on his doorstep with a cup of coffee. She handed it to him. “You look like you need this.”
It was the same thing she’d said to him that night outside Cranks.
She brushed past him, took his single malt and sauntered into the house.
Not sure what she was up to, but thrilled to have her there, he followed. “What’s going on?”
“Chase Gunning came to see me.” She took a sip of his single malt.
Eric put the coffee down on the kitchen island and reached for another scotch glass. If he had to talk about that prick, he wasn’t going to do it on coffee. Besides she didn’t look like she intended to give him back his original glass anytime soon.
“He tried to tell me that you were messing around behind my back.” She faced the view, her back to him.
Eric gripped the bottle tightly and reined in his temper. “That’s bullshit and you know it.”
“Yes, I do know it.” She turned to him and her smile was blindingly beautiful. Not a trace of reserve or caution dimmed the edge of her loveliness. “I know.”
“And?” Hope stirred in his chest.
Blythe laughed. “And I know because I trust you. I trust that you won’t hurt me. I trust that you mean what you say when you tell me you love me.”
“I do mean what I say.” Eric couldn’t help himself and he reached for her.
“Wait.” She ducked away from him and shot the rest of the single malt. Eric almost winced for his sixteen-year-old Lagavulin but she could gargle with the stuff, mix it with Coke for all he cared, just as long as she always looked this happy. She stood outside his reach. “I need to finish this before you touch me.” She rolled her eyes. “Because we both know what happens then.”
