by Ellie Danes
The lump in my throat grew bigger as I choked back the tears and sadness that had overcome me. I cared for Chance, more than I realized and I was about to jeopardize my new job by overpromising what I was actually capable of.
For once, luck had been on my side. As I exited the building a cab had stopped at the corner and I quickly jumped in and gave the driver my address. I whipped out my notebook and jotted down thoughts and ideas as they came to me. It was crazy how much I had to do. My life had went from completely boring to overwhelmingly busy overnight.
After a twenty-five minute drive through the city, the cab pulled in front of my apartment, I paid the driver and got out, still entranced in my thoughts. I pulled out my phone and looked at my calendar. Two and a half weeks. Tomorrow I needed to lock down some dates. Becca, how do you get yourself into these things? I tapped at the phone with my thumb as I balanced my notebook under my arm and fumbled for my keys.
“Hey Becca. I knocked, but obviously you weren’t home.”
“Chris?” I said as I slowly walked up the steps toward him. “What are you doing here?”
“I just wanted to come and apologize,” Chris said as he moved toward me, “I hated the way I left things before.”
“It’s fine.” I really just wanted to get up to my apartment and avoid any conversation with him. “Don’t worry about it. I understand why you were upset. I should have–”
“No! I’m sorry.” Chris moved uncomfortably closer as I still fumbled for my keys. I was hesitant to open my apartment door, but I wanted to get away. I didn’t want him to take that as an invitation to come inside. “By the way, where were you? I came by earlier and you weren’t home?”
“Umm, no,” I said slowly, as I tried to move away from him. “I told you last night, I got a job.”
“This late?” Chris said as he once again moved closer. I was really starting to feel uncomfortable. “So you work nights now?”
“Well no…I mean…If I have to. It’s a big project.” I looked away, “I actually have a lot of work to do, so if you don’t mind, I need to go inside.”
“Okay, I understand.” Chris stabbed his hands into his pocket and looked at me. “Well, would you be free tomorrow night? Could I take you out for an apology dinner?”
“No,” I said softly, “I’m going to be really busy.”
Chris huffed. “Seriously?” His temper escalated slightly. “How about the night after?”
I took a deep breath and debated the best way to get rid of him. As he inched closer towards me I took a step backward. The attractive, yet dull man I had grown to like had changed into someone that was obsessed and possessive. I grabbed a hold of my keys inside of my purse and pushed past him, finally turning as I put my key in the door. “Listen, Chris,” I said slowly, as I met his gaze, “Right now, I really need to focus on this new job. I don’t think we should see each other anymore.”
“What?” Chris extended his hands, palms up and shrugged his shoulders. “What did I do? Please, Becca, reconsider…I really like you.”
“I’m sorry. Chris, it’s not you. I just need time to focus on my job.” My excuse sounded so cliché, but it was the best I could do given the situation at hand. “I’m sorry.” I unlocked the door and stepped inside, immediately locking the deadbolt behind me.
* * * *
My evening was spent with one eye open, listening for signs of Chris attempting to break in and kill me, and my mind racing with the list of things I needed to get done for Chance. Melissa had spent the night at her fiancé’s apartment, leaving me alone and scared. Something I was going to have to get used to once she was married. I got up early and started working. Midway through the morning I switched from coffee to wine in an attempt to loosen up my creative energy.
I stared at all of the papers on the coffee table, a glass of white wine ready for every stress filled sip. This was going to be nearly impossible. There was no way I would be able to get everything done in such a short amount of time. I had spent the last seven hours making calls, jotting down notes and researching everything I would ever need to know to get this project right. I needed to manage the impossible, not to mention I also needed time to fulfill my Maid of Honor duties. I polished off my glass of wine and set it on the table. I leaned forward, holding the sides of my somewhat aching head as I scanned my notes. My list of things to get done continued to grow and I was mixed with a combination of frustration, anger and disappointment. The two glasses of wine clouded my judgment as I picked up my phone and called Chance, ready to find a solution.
“Chance, this is insane! I can’t do all of this by myself! I have three pages of things that need to get done in the next few days! I have appointments with like three more people tomorrow! I don’t know how I can possible do this alone! I need help! I don’t have a problem making the decisions but I don’t have time to do all of the grunt work! How am I supposed to get this done?” The sobs of disappointed overcame me as I fumbled for words. I paused for a moment as I realized my outburst was being left on his voicemail. What was I thinking?
“Oh, my God!” I gasped, “There’s a way to delete messages, right? Oh, my God, oh, my God!” I randomly tapped the keys on the screen, attempting to delete the message. There was a beep and the automated voice played on the phone. "Message received. Goodbye.” The phone went dead.
“Nooooo!”
Chapter Six
Chance
I sat in my living room, my phone gripped tightly in my hands as I rubbed the back of my neck. The world around me seemed to collapse around me. My mind was twisted into shambles. As the news sank in I replayed the conversation in my head. I tried to remember the tone of his voice. I tried to think how he might have looked as the words came from his mouth. My stomach ached as I thought about his words. Chance, I’m dying. All I could say was Oh. Nothing else came out. I listened as he explained how the disease had taken over his body, starting with his kidneys. He had sounded so defeated, so unlike the overly confident man I had always known. I squeezed my phone tighter, wanting to throw it against the wall, but held back.
Instead, I stood and walked over to the liquor cabinet and pulled out a bottle of bourbon and grabbed a glass. I staggered over to my chair, sat down and looked out at the city. It didn’t feel real. Howard Vaughn, dying. He had always seemed invincible to me. I knew we hadn’t really ever gotten along, but I had always, and would always, admire him. His intelligence, his drive, how he always accomplished his every goal, no matter what.
“Fuck!” I cursed as I took a swig of bourbon. The burn of the oaky liquid rested within my chest. I blamed him for never trying to connect with me. I blamed myself for never saying the right thing around him. I hated all of this. My phone vibrated in my hand and I looked down seeing Becca’s name lit up across the screen. I tapped the voicemail button and took another swig of my drink.
I wanted to answer and tell her everything. I wanted to tell her that my father was dying, that I didn’t know what to do, that I didn’t know what to say to him. A man I had always wanted to love me, to be proud of me, was dying and I never proved myself to him. It all seemed so important now, like something I needed to get done before it was too late.
I knew I couldn’t talk to her, even though I needed a friend and someone to confide in. I thought about Becca and my father. Even though he knew he dying, he wanted me to patch things up with Sara. He told me not to be like him. He was convinced I was headed down the wrong path. I couldn’t figure out why he thought Sara was the solution. But it was clear that it was important to him that I fix things between Sara and me, and in my confused mind I thought that maybe I should.
Maybe the one thing I knew he wanted from me I should do without resentment and without a fight. If being with Sara would make my father happy, I figured I could give up my own happiness. There wasn’t much of a point to try and make my father see how truly horrible Sara was, or how much Becca made me happy. My whole life I had wanted his approval. But I never real
ly did what he wanted.
I glanced down at the voicemail icon flashing on the screen. One missed call from Becca. I felt my chest swell. I ran my fingers through my hair and then rubbed the back of my neck, frustrated and lost. I tapped my finger against the phone screen, contemplating whether I wanted to listen to the message.
I bit my lip as I tapped the phone again and listened to the message, her distraught voice changing octaves as she rambled. She begged for help. I felt guilt as I listened to the message and realized the stress she was under. Her deep sob paused as panic overtook her voice and I couldn’t help but smile as I listened to her fumble, attempting to delete the message.
Even in pure chaos she was able to bring a smile to my face. I knew what I had to do, for myself, for my father and for Becca.
* * * *
I stood in the lobby, waiting, where I had, only a few days ago. This time, my objective was clear, to get what I wanted and needed. The petite receptionist smiled at me from over the tall, oak desk as she covered the mouthpiece to her headset. “He’ll be with you shortly.” She smiled again and batted her eyes.
“Mr. Vaughn,” His voice was overly cheerful to the point that it sounded fake. “It’s always a pleasure to see you.”
“Nice to see you too, Matthew.”
“I don’t remember us having an appointment. Is there something I can help you with? I could make some time. Why don’t you meet me in the conference room and I’ll grab your proposal.” Matthew motioned as he stepped in the direction of his office.
“I’m afraid that won’t be necessary.” I gazed towards the opposite hallways and back toward Matthew. “I’m actually here to meet with someone else.”
“I see. Who?” His face had turned a deep shade of scarlet. Beads of sweat had grown in number across his balding head.
“There he is now. I nodded toward the hallway where Figg, Johnson, partner in the company, approached.
“Mr. Johnson!” Matthew smiled at the partner and the looked at me. “Good afternoon sir.”
“Afternoon Michael.” He said curtly as he shook my hand. “Now if you don’t mind I have to speak with Mr. Vaughn.”
“Actually, it’s Matthew sir.” Matthew fumbled for words as he tried to brush off the awkwardness of the conversation. “Don’t you think I should be a part of this discussion?” he said in a sheepish voice.
“Not this time Matthew.” Figg said smoothly. “I’ve got this meeting under control.”
Matthew turned and made his way toward his office. I could hear him muttering something under his breath as he left us in the lobby.
“No what was it that you wanted to discuss with me Chance?” Figg said as he clapped his large hand on my shoulder.
“I have a proposal for you,” I smiled broadly, “A proposal that you can’t refuse,”
“Well.” He laughed heartily, “Those are my favorite kind!”
* * * *
The meeting had gone off exactly as I had wanted and everything was in place. Only a few small details remained and I knew I needed to see Becca. She hadn’t answered either of my texts or phone calls and I wondered whether she was embarrassed about the voicemail she had left or possibly just angry about the interaction between her and my father the other evening.
Either way, we needed to talk. My driver pulled in front of her building and I slipped out, hopeful that she would be home. I quickly stepped across the street and up the stairs to her door and knocked, wondering whether she’d pretend to not be home once she saw me through the peephole in her door.
Moments later, sounds of the clicking deadbolts echoed into the small hallway and the door opened. Becca was dressed in yoga pants and a plain white tank top, her tanned skinned looking even darker in the oncoming light of the sunset.
Her gave me a wide-eyed smile as she stared at me. “Chance? What are you doing here?”
Chapter Seven
Becca
“What are you doing here? Why are you here?” I could feel my eyes growing bigger as I stared at him. I immediately felt nervous as he stood in the doorway. It was different than the other night when he dropped me off. He was now just a step away from being inside of my apartment. Just like he had been in my dream.
“I really wanted to talk to you,” he shifted slightly. “I tried to call, but I was close, so I figured I just stop by. I hope that was ok.”
“Sure, of course.” I stepped to the side as I watched him finally step foot into my apartment, something I had never imagined happening when I had met him that day on the plane.
“Can I get you something to drink? A glass of wine? It’s nothing fancy but–”
“That would actually be perfect, thank you.” He smiled as his eyes took in his surroundings. I was happy I had cleaned the place up from earlier. The mound of papers from work were still scattered across the coffee table. “Is Melissa home?”
“No she’s out with her Fiancé. She won’t be back until tonight, at least another few hours.”
“I see. Good. I was hoping we could talk…about the other night.” Chance sat on the couch among the mess of papers and I joined him as he continued. “I wanted to apologize for what my father had. Howard can be…well, he can be…tough.”
“It’s ok.” I smiled as I played with my wine glass, remembering how uncomfortable I was when I had met his father.
“Things have been really crazy.” His voice seemed softer, almost hurt. I slowly looked up at him from my wine glass and could see he was struggling.
“Is everything ok Chance?”
“No, not really,” His brow intertwined in the middle, a slight frown creased his jaw.
I gently reached over and hesitantly touched his hand. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“I…I do…and the thing is…” Chance picked some lint off of his pants as he stalled, searching for the right words. “I’m not so sure things will be ok,”
“What happened?”
“It’s my father.” Chance looked sadly into my eyes, “He’s here because he’s sick. He had an appointment with a specialist.”
“Oh, Chance,” I squeeze his hand softly, “I’m so sorry.”
“I wish I could say he’s going to be alright,” he looked away, “but that wouldn’t be true. He told me he’s dying. He was vague in a way, but I knew there was more to it.”
“Chance,” I whispered softly. I thought about the rant I left on his phone earlier and how I had spoken to his father the previous night.
“I feel so much guilt Becca, so much regret,” Chance slumped into the couch. I hadn’t been in this situation before and was at a loss for words. I scooted closer, listening to his every word. I hoped for a sign that would tell me what to do or what to say. I thought him coming to the city for hotel and club opening would be the beginning of a new chapter for us. That finally I would make him proud. But now I see that it’s really just the end.”
“Chance you can’t think like that,” I rubbed his arm gently as he leaned toward me, vulnerable and broken. “Like you said, your father tends to be tough. I’m sure he’s proud of you. More than you realize.”
“I hope so.” He sighed heavily as than looked up at me. “All I ever wanted was his approval. But know things have changed. I won’t have much longer to fix our relationship.”
I gently stroked his hair and tucked a lock behind his ear as his eyes locked on me. I could feel my pulse surge. “Is there anything I can do?”
“No, I appreciate that. I’m just happy we can talk about this. I’ve kept this inside all day. It’s drained me.” He moved in closer. “I don’t really have anyone in my life that I can talk to like this.”
My lips pursed as I nodded at him, acknowledging that I would be there whenever he needed me. I felt as vulnerable as he was, allowing myself to feel his sadness. He brushed the back of his hand against my cheek as he thanked me again, our eyes still locked. He slowly moved his heads closer, eventually placing his lips gently on mine and I didn’t resist.
It felt natural. Our kiss quickened as he pulled me closer, his full lips kissing mine. His tongue danced across my lips and the sweet taste of white wine on his tongue filled my mouth. I kissed him back as I grabbed his arms, squeezing them. The closeness of his body reminded me of our time together in Vegas. I stood from the couch, pulling him upward to stand with me and then took his hand, leading him to my room.
His strong hands roamed my body and I took in a shuddering breath as he caressed my breasts through the thin fabric of my tank top. He kissed my neck, pulling the tank sleeve to the side and kissing my shoulder. His hot breath sent shivers down my spine. I quickly lifted my tank top, exposing my breasts and erect nipples. His hand clutched my neck as he kissed me. His hand traveled down over my shoulder to my breast as he kissed me harder. His other hand pulled me closer as I could feel his hardness through his suit pants. It pressed against me and I could feel myself getting wetter. The sensation of pleasure shooting through my bundle of nerves.
I tugged at his shirt, quickly exposure his smooth, tanned chest and ran my fingers over his rippled abs until my hand came to rest at the top of his pants. I flicked my wrist, unhooking his belt and deftly released the button and pulled down his zipper. His pants fell to the floor as he stepped out of pants and kicked of his shoes and socks. He stood in front of me, a thin layer of nylon briefs held in his hardness and I could barely contain myself.
Chance pulled me close, rubbing himself on me as he eased his hands around my hips, slowly pulling down my yoga pants and leaving me naked in front of him.
“Chance,” I pleaded, “The bed,”
He picked me up and placed me on top of my covers. My body burned for his touch as my body squirmed. He climbed on top of me, slowly grinding his body on my naked body, only a thin piece of material keeping us apart. I reached down, sliding them off of him and feeling the heat of his skin against mine.
