He turned and took in the linebacker-sized man eyeing him, his thick hand outstretched. Except he wasn’t any player Chase had ever faced on the field. “Have we met? I’d remember you.”
“I get that a lot.” The man shook Chase’s hand. “We spoke on the phone. I’m Drew Harrington.”
“I should’ve known.” Chase grinned and enjoyed having to tilt his head to look into Drew’s eyes. It was rare he encountered someone taller than him who wasn’t playing for the opposing team. “The press hasn’t exaggerated your presence. And I’m suddenly glad we never met on the football field.”
Drew laughed. The sound, genuine and natural, transformed his entire face from imposing to teddy-bear approachable. “I have to agree.”
Chase followed Drew away from the crowd. Drew rubbed his hand over his short beard and glanced at Chase. “I would’ve called sooner, but I’m waiting on one more contact to get back to me.”
Chase scanned the crowd, spotted Nichole surrounded by his family and her friends on the far end of the patio. “Is Fund Infusion legit?”
“It’s a real, functioning company.” Drew frowned and studied the deck as if he’d stepped in a red ant hill. “If Nichole had any other product, I’d let her sign a contract with them.”
Chase straightened, suddenly more alert, and eyed the former DA. “What’s wrong with her app?”
“Fund Infusion already represents Nichole’s biggest competitor in the market.” Drew lifted both eyebrows and allowed Chase to fill in the rest.
Like a serious conflict of interest. Glenn and Vick wanted In A Pinch but most likely not to launch it nationwide. “She could still take the deal and the money. Build a different app.”
“She could.” Drew accepted a glass of champagne from a passing waiter. His voice remained noncommittal.
“Except she’s already worked years on this program. It’s personal to her. She believes in her product.” Chase scrubbed his hand through his hair. “Killing it would be like destroying a part of herself.”
“We’re looking too serious and drawing attention.” Drew tapped his glass against Chase’s and smiled. “I’ll put together my findings and you can tell Nichole.”
“Why me?” Chase forced his smile wider. Nichole and Chase’s deal had been until both contracts were signed. Now he was going to ruin her deal with Fund Infusion and there’d be no contract to finalize. He’d have his contract signed, his life reclaimed on the football field and his freedom. Nichole would have bad press from their sudden fake divorce and an app that never launched. The last of his optimism deflated inside him, lowering his shoulders. Regret seeped in.
“I don’t envy you.” Drew drank his champagne and shuddered. “I never could handle disappointing a woman. Something about their tears always gets to me.”
This was about much more than tears. This was Nichole’s future. And Chase had promised to protect her. He had given his word to her grandparents. His gut clenched as if wanting to be wrong. “Thanks, Drew. Wish I could say it was good to know my intuition was still sharp.”
“Hey, at least she’ll have you to lean on.” Drew set his palm on Chase’s shoulder, supportive and encouraging. “Bad news is always better with someone you love beside you.”
Love. The word lodged in Chase’s throat like an elbow thrust to his windpipe. If he’d loved Nichole, he’d never have fake married her. Never have convinced her of the brilliance of his plan. Never have entwined her in his world of schemes and slanted press. If he’d loved her, he would’ve walked away.
“Looks like you’re wanted.” Drew angled his chin toward the tables situated near the beach entrance of the pool.
Nonna sat at one of the rectangular tables and motioned to him. The Pioneers’ general manager, Keith Romero, and Travis talked to her. From her position at the head of the table and her regal bearing, Nonna appeared to control the conversation and every decision being made. Perhaps he should’ve requested she join Travis for his contract negotiations. His grandmother could be a formidable opponent or valuable ally. Chase shook Drew’s hand, thanked him again and headed toward his grandmother.
Nonna removed her glasses—something she only ever did when she wanted to see a situation clearly, or so she always claimed. A thread of apprehension trailed through Chase. He intercepted Nichole on his route, wrapped his arm around her waist, suddenly needing her by his side. “Having fun?”
“Would you be surprised if I said yes?” Her arm curved around his waist and she leaned into him.
He’d miss that connection—simple yet so very settling. He said, “I like your friends.”
“Your teammates are funny and kind.” Nichole grinned; delight colored her voice. “Your sisters and I already have lunch scheduled for next week.”
“If your schedule is open, you can join Nonna and me for lunch.” Chase leaned over and kissed his grandmother’s cheek. The tension creasing around her eyes wrenched Chase’s calm, knocking his composure askew. He shook Keith’s hand, worked the kinks of worry out of his words. “My grandmother and I haven’t missed our weekly lunch in over two years.”
“It’s quite the streak.” Nonna patted the seat beside her and smiled at Nichole. “Sit, my dear.”
Chase dropped into the chair beside Nichole, noted Nonna’s slight toward him and pushed his shoulders down against the unease.
“But it seems all streaks must be broken.” Nonna touched her ear as if signaling Chase to listen well. Her mild tone rendered her voice all the more grim. “The surgery on your shoulder and neck will certainly disrupt our weekly lunch plans.”
Surgery. Chase froze in the chair, wouldn’t have been surprised to watch his body wilt onto the deck. Now he understood that phrase, world crumbling. Understood how it felt: numbing and disorienting. And him: powerless.
“So, it’s true.” Travis rocked back in his chair, betrayal thick in his voice.
Keith shook his head. Anger lit his dark gaze.
“Chase.” Alarm rattled Nichole’s voice.
He locked onto her and stumbled over the pieces of his broken future. Guilt paled her skin. “Who...who told you?” Who did she tell?
“Mallory and I were talking...” She wavered, became soundless. She cleared her throat. “Mallory assumed you’d told me.”
“You never corrected her.” Bitterness seeped into his tone.
“You should’ve told me,” she countered brusquely, as if she were the injured party. As if she had the right.
“Why? So, you could tell my agent, my coach, the rest of my family? Ruin my life.” His anger rolled toward fury. “Wait. You already did that.”
She flinched. Her voice never trembled. “I was only trying to protect you.”
“Why?” He lashed out. “You aren’t even my real wife.”
Their audience gasped. Or perhaps that was the shocked cry of his mom. Or Mallory’s sharp inhale. Anything decent left inside Chase shriveled and faded. His career was most likely over and he’d exposed their deceit. Thrust Nichole into the lion’s den without protection. He really was a bad guy—selfish and cruel. She deserved so much better than him.
“You’re right. I’m not your real wife.” She shot up and out of the chair, rigid and proud. Her gaze uncompromising and resolute. “I’m only the woman who loved you before all this. And the woman who loves you now, faults and everything included.”
She couldn’t love him. He barely even liked himself. A chill rooted into his core; ice-coated vines extended the incessant cold to every part of his body. His voice, even to his own ears, sounded frigid and detached. “This was all a farce. One elaborate lie.”
Elliot’s deep curse rumbled through Chase. Travis closed his eyes, his hand curled into a fist on the table. Ivy pressed her hand over her mouth; her gaze skidded away from him. Disappointment, so much disappointment, flowed from his family and friends. Betrayal, not
warmth, poured from the outdoor propane heaters around the patio. And Chase flatlined to a new low. A new rock bottom. He’d betrayed them all. Betrayed those he’d loved the most.
The handful of reporters Chase had noted mingling within the crowd swooped in, alert for the unfolding drama.
“Was it?” Nichole’s gaze never wavered.
Chase rose and kept his focus on her. Only her. Don’t love me. Please. Don’t. Love. Me. “Yes. One big publicity stunt like I always do. It was only ever about me.”
But it could’ve been about us. If he was any other man. A better man. The kind of man she deserved.
His words aimed true. The illusion shattered. Sadness cracked through her gaze. Her shoulders stiffened. Her chin tilted up. She turned, set her diamond ring on the table. “My sincere apologies, gentlemen.” She shifted again. “Nonna.”
Only then did her voice crack. Only then did something splinter inside his own chest. If he recognized his heart, he’d have considered it broken. But that would’ve meant he’d fallen in love too. Impossible.
Nichole walked away, linked her arm through Brooke’s and never looked back.
Chase sidelined his own pain. Sidelined his concern for Nichole and his regret. They’d always planned to break up. Their plan was never supposed to be long-term. That chill overtook him. He’d been cold after his father had left. Empty and cold. Now the chill was sharper. More biting. The emptiness even more stark. Chase was more like his father than even he could’ve ever imagined. And it appeared the son had become the father after all.
He buried his heart and embraced the incessant cold and the man he’d always feared he was. Then he faced the table and focused on the only thing he knew: damage control to save himself.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHASE AND NICHOLE’S pretense had been exposed, along with her heart.
Nichole turned her cell phone to silent and dropped it on her kitchen counter. Calls from reporters requesting a statement now outpaced calls from her friends and family. Several calls had come in from Vick and Glenn, no doubt requesting a meeting to cancel their agreement. After all, what company wanted to invest in a known liar?
Last night, she’d mentioned Chase’s shoulder injury to Mallory, wanting only to ask Mallory about other methods to ease his constant pain. Something else for Chase to try beyond physical therapy to help his shoulder heal. Nichole grimaced and replayed the conversation:
Mallory had scowled into her wineglass. “Chase will heal only after surgery, as you probably already know.”
She hadn’t known. He hadn’t trusted her enough with that particular piece of information. “I don’t know when the surgery is.”
“Neither do we.” Mallory had directed her scowl at Chase across the pool, who’d been laughing and joking around with his teammates. “He keeps putting it off.”
Nichole had stammered, “W...why?”
“Why else?” Mallory had flung her hand out. “For football. It’s always about football.”
“But he can’t play injured.”
Mallory’s gaze had dimmed, a grim shadow had crossed her face.
“What aren’t you telling me?”
“He might not be able to play even after surgery.”
Nichole had pressed on. “But what if he plays anyway?”
“Then he risks permanent damage. Damage that can’t be repaired by a surgeon’s scalpel.”
Nichole had blanched. Her arrangement with Chase concluded upon their finalizing their individual contracts. Once Chase signed his extension with the Pioneers, Nichole would no longer be useful. No longer be with him. That had been the terms of their agreement—an amicable split to pursue their own goals.
She’d panicked, not wanting Chase to risk a more devastating injury on the football field. She’d only wanted to protect Chase. Only wanted to find someone to reason with him.
She’d located Travis and Elliot. Thanked the sports agent for his hospitality and Elliot for his friendship. Travis had expressed his hope to have good news for them both the following week regarding Chase’s contract extension, giving the happy couple another reason to celebrate. Nichole had requested the celebration wait until after Chase’s surgery and stunned both men into silence. From there, an undercurrent of tension had washed across the outdoor patio.
Nichole had accepted Chase’s anger, but not his dismissal. Or his firm declaration that everything between them had only ever been a lie.
She’d always protected those she loved. She wouldn’t apologize.
Movement in her backyard caught her attention. A familiar figure closed the side gate and walked across the small lawn. Chase Jacobs—her newly minted pretend ex. Except there was nothing pretend about the tears that had dampened her pillow last night. The catch in her chest now. Or the dull thud of her heart in her ears.
Nichole stepped onto the back porch and stood in the doorway. Surely there was nothing more to be said. He’d confessed his truths last night for the world to know. She crossed her arms over her chest, blocking him from taking another aim at her heart. “What are you doing?”
“There are reporters out front.” He pointed at the back gate and tugged the rim of his baseball cap over his forehead. “I didn’t want to be seen so I came in the back way.”
And he could turn around and leave the same way. Now. Before she noticed his unkempt appearance and the misery in his tone. Or searched for regret in the shadows under his eyes. Nicole flattened her lips together and remained silent.
“I’m sorry about last night.” He ground his foot into an anthill as if defending himself from her silent attack. “Football is my career. My entire life.”
“There’s more to you than football.” Surely, he understood that. Recognized he was more than a football player. So much more.
“Nothing special.” He scratched his fingers through his beard and grimaced as if surprised to realize he hadn’t shaved that morning. “I wanted to give you something.”
“I don’t want it.” Unless it was his...
He reached into his pocket. For a brief moment, Nichole’s breath hitched. The silly hope that refused to shrivel up swelled inside her. Had he recognized his error? Acknowledged his heart.
His hand reappeared, holding an envelope. And that hope finally withered. As it should. Love had no place between them.
“I wanted to give you this.” He held out the envelope. “It’s for damage control.”
Nichole glared at the envelope. She’d been given a similar one more than a decade ago. Still remembered the stunned ache inside her chest. She’d revealed her surprise pregnancy and had received a payoff to go away quickly and quietly.
Last night, she’d confessed her love and now stood ready to collect another payout. Once again, her love wasn’t enough. She braced herself in the doorway. Her heart crumbled around her feet, tiny unrecognizable pieces, and still she refused to collapse. “I can handle the fallout. I’ve survived much worse than this.”
“Take it.” He clenched the envelope, thrust it toward her. Desperation punched through his words. “You can finish your app. Fund the launch yourself and secure your own future.”
Funny, she’d started to imagine a future that included Chase. Beside her. With her. She’d started to imagine more than she’d ever dared before. The cries of her shattered heart became silent. Soundless. She should ache. A full body splintering ache that dropped her to her knees. But she was too hollow. Too empty. “I don’t want a free ride.” Or his handouts. Or his pity.
“I want you to have this.” He adjusted his baseball cap, revealed his tired eyes. Still, he held her gaze. “It doesn’t make up for what I’ve done. But it can protect your future.”
Ironic. That was all she’d ever really wanted. To feel protected and secure. “What about our future?”
“This is the best I can offer.” His voic
e was flat and muted.
“You’re more than a quarterback. More than a touchdown pass or an autograph.” He rescued kittens. Took care of his family. Believed in her. Nichole pointed at the envelope in his tense grip. “You’re more than the size of your bank account.”
“Are we?” He stuffed the envelope back inside his pocket and set his hands on his hips. “You’ve been so busy chasing the sale of your app, you ignored the warning signs. And for what? To increase the size of your bank account and have a couple of strangers believe in you?”
“That’s not fair.” Nichole charged off the porch onto the staircase. The door slammed behind her, blasting force into her words. “Is that what this has become? A comparison of bank balances to determine who can claim to have a more fulfilling life?”
“Look around, Nichole.” He gestured toward her home, the movement a rigid snap. “You already have that life. With or without your app sale, you win.”
She clutched the wooden railing and searched his face. Where was the Chase she knew? “Why can’t we both win?”
His smile was dark. Bitter, as if coated in contempt and dipped in cynicism. “That’s not how real life works.”
But what about love? “So, you claim defeat, pay me off and walk away.”
“I messed up your world.” That contempt scored his face. “The money can help fix that.”
“You can stick around and fix it yourself.” She launched her challenge. He’d always accepted before.
He shook his head. “I don’t belong here.”
“Why not?” She disliked the callous man standing before her. Despised the defeat in his gaze. Her heart was already broken. Still, she fought. “Because we don’t ask for your autograph enough. Don’t quote your football stats and recite your best plays.”
“People want the football star. Not a has-been. Not a former.” He stabbed his arms out to either side, punching the air.
Not me. She only ever wanted him. Just Chase. “I’m not everyone. But then again, I’m not enough, am I?”
Her Surprise Engagement Page 21
