You're All I Think About_Second Chance Romance

by Scarlett Avery

  “Maybe she's upstairs.”

  I drop the heavy box containing the pastry and the shopping bag containing my Americana flip flops and the shapeless clothing I left here with on the counter and backtrack my steps.

  "You'll never believe what I won. They call it the Glam Outfit of the Day. I bloody love America! It's nice stuff too. Not crappy rubbish I'll get rid of," I shout as I make my way up the stairs to the third floor. I balance myself on my high-heels and walk as quickly as I possibly can down the corridor to her room.

  "Julianne?" I shout, knocking on her door.

  She doesn't answer.

  “Kenner?”

  Nope. No answer.

  "Julianne?" I knock again.

  Still nothing.

  I crack open the door, but the room is empty.

  “What the hell is going on? Where are they?"

  I walk to the other side of the house, to open the door to the guest room where I'm staying. I'm out of luck. That room is empty as well.

  "Now I'm seriously confused. Maybe I spent too much time in the steam room. My brain shriveled," I laugh at my own joke.

  Then it hits me.

  “Of course! The garden. We’re having a barbecue, after all."

  I make my way down the stairs. I don't rush things. Not in these heels.

  "Julianne? Kenner?" I shout again as I re-enter the kitchen. "Are you out there?"

  I swing open the door leading to the garden and stop in my tracks when I notice a row of lanterns on each side of the steps.

  "Wow! She went all out for Saturday night.”

  I step down and suddenly I hear music.

  "Nice and mellow," I nod, taking in the first few notes.

  When I reach the last step, I freeze.

  My heart jumps out of my chest when I make out the lyrics.

  For a quick second, I think my sister is punishing me for forcing her to listen to the same anthems over and over again for the last three months to the point that she knows the lyrics off by heart, but something doesn't feel quite right. How would she know Claes Rosen’s remix of Marvin Gaye’s ‘If This World Were Mine’, is one of my favorite songs? I've been careful not to play that one.

  When the song really kicks in, my gut twists into a knot. That part always gives me shivers, but it’s amplified by a thousand this time around. I don't even know why.

  Cautiously, I start walking down the illuminated path towards the music.

  Suddenly, everything goes quiet.

  “Kenner? Julianne?” I call out.

  “Interesting lyrics.”

  Dear God and all the saints above.

  I swivel my head in the direction of the voice. Deep. Rich. Familiar. It’s a voice I never thought I’d ever hear again. It’s the voice of the man I refuse to admit I still love.

  "Barrett?”

  CHAPTER 49

  Barrett

  I step out of the shadow. “Butterfly.”

  “What are you doing here?" Her voice trembles.

  "I was desperate to see you again."

  “Where are Julianne and Kenner?” I guess I deserve that. “They’re supposed to be here. My sister told me dinner would be served at seven," she adds nervously.

  “They’re on the boat at the marina for the night."

  "How did you get in?"

  "They’ve graciously given me their home—including keys—so I can win you back.”

  Her jaw drops, but she recovers quickly. “You just wasted a tank of petrol flying here.”

  "I've been in Monterey for a week now. I’m renting a beautiful house with an ocean view."

  She blinks her confusion.

  It takes her a few seconds to speak again. "If you've been here that long then you've seen everything there is to see. Monterey isn't that big or that eventful. It's time for you to hop back on your private jet and head back to London."

  "I'm not leaving California without you."

  "You become more delusional with age, mate."

  "I mean it, Charlotte. We need to talk."

  She lifts her hand up. "Save it. I'm not interested."

  "You look gorgeous, by the way," I retaliate. "I'm glad to see that everything fits. I had to fly the dress from Los Angeles, but it’s well worth it." My comment throws her off.

  She narrows her gaze. "You're behind this?"

  "Yes and no."

  Her arms go flying in the air before landing against her thighs in a loud thump. "I should've known it was too good to be true. Everything fits too perfectly."

  “Julianne was behind the spa idea. Something about an SOS grooming intervention."

  Unwillingly, she laughs. "My sister is a piece of work."

  "She’s also the one who came up with the scratchy contest. The spa was gracious enough to go along with it because she’s a loyal client. My job was just to buy things I knew would look smashing on you and that you’d love. I might have gone a little overboard with the lingerie," I chuckle.

  Julianne didn't have to convince me to splurge on Charlotte. Since I already knew she was still sporting a spectacular tan from a hotter than usual summer and autumn, I bought her a short orange dress and a pair of nude high heels. Of course, it looks more traffic-stopping on her, than I ever imagined.

  "You didn't have to do that. I have clothing, you know, and I have my own money," she throws at me.

  “Julianne said that you shoved the clothing you arrived with inside your suitcase and it hasn’t seen the light of day in the last three months. Apparently, you’ve adopted this uniform that sends a very clear message—you’ve given up. I have to be honest, I didn't believe her, but when I caught a glimpse of you a few days ago in town, I barely recognized you—”

  "You've been stalking me?"

  "I just wanted to see you… even from afar," I explain. “Since I know how feisty you are, I knew you hadn’t given up on life. You had simply given up on us."

  "Can you blame me?" she shouts. "A fucking porn star, Barrett?"

  I take several steps forward.

  She takes several steps back.

  That does little to deter me. I close the gap between us and drop my hands against her shoulders. She flinches and tries to get away from me, but I tighten my grip. When she realizes she isn't going anywhere, she averts her gaze.

  "You actually believe that?"

  "I saw it with my own two eyes," she spits at me.

  I've never seen anger shine so bright in her eyes.

  "You saw what Octavia wanted you to see," I tell her.

  "Are you saying it wasn't you in that video?"

  "Yes, that was me—”

  "See. You came here to lie to my face. Take your dirty hands off of me," she shouts.

  I tighten my grip a little more. "Listen to me, Charlotte."

  "I've heard enough. Go back to London. I've been doing this for two and a half years and I'm done. I can't anymore." Her voice breaks. “It hurts too much.” My heart sinks when a few tears escape. "I can't cry any more than I already have."

  "That's why I'm here," I say in a soft voice as I wipe away her tears.

  "I thought I was going to die when I saw that video. How could you have done that to me? Why didn't you just tell me you were seeing someone else?"

  The tears come out in streams now.

  I clench my jaw.

  "I’ve never wanted to kill someone as much as I wanted to kill Octavia when I found out what she did."

  "You were pissed off because you didn't want me to know about your little sordid affair? Is that it? I may hate her guts, but I'm glad Octavia showed me what you’re made of. And it isn’t much, mate." Her tone is dismissive again.

  "Octavia used one of my employees—who was willing to do just about anything for the right price—to trick you. It's the same asshole who transferred two million pounds out of my account using my own authorization code."

  She blinks up at me flabbergasted. "Wha-what?"

  I lean forward until her forehead touches mine, a
nd I breathe in her floral scent. God, I’ve missed her.

  "You've been duped, butterfly. Just as much as I've been conned."

  She pulls away from me and her eyes dart straight at me. "But it doesn't make any sense. It was you. I recognized your voice."

  "Didn’t anything strike you as weird about that video?"

  "Well, you sounded strange. Constipated even."

  I bite off a smile.

  "In the years you've known me, how many times have I hesitated when I speak?"

  Her eyes shift from left to right. "Never. You're the most eloquent and self-assured person I know."

  "Didn't you notice how choppy my voice sounded?"

  "Yeah, but I thought maybe it was a bad reception."

  "Didn't you question why I’d want to fuck a porn star? How could she even compare to you?"

  She shrugs dismissively. "What we shared was casual at best. Octavia nailed that one on the head. Once we were back in London, the Greek fantasy was over. You could pretty much shag anyone you wanted. Even a porn star. That’s every man's dream, right?"

  "No, Charlotte, it isn't. My standards are much higher than that. This whole fiasco happened because unscrupulous people wanted to get to me by hurting you.”

  “Capri whatshername called out your name," she rebuts.

  "That wasn't Capri’s voice. You heard Cheryl Mulvey—a struggling actress willing to do anything for a few hundred quid."

  Charlotte frowns. “I don't understand. I heard it with my own ears."

  "Until I nearly knocked out your assistant for coming at me with a bloody bronze sculpture when I dropped by your office to find out where the hell you were, I didn't know Capri Ocean even existed."

  "Oh, God. Please tell me you didn't hurt Terry."

  "I didn't, but I came close. Once I was able to calm him down, he explained why he was so angry with me. I listened to the story, and once he was done, I just kept staring at him like he had two heads. That's when it hit both of us—it was all a ruse."

  "Blimey."

  "Yeah."

  "I thought you had betrayed me," she says.

  I shake my head. "If this world were mine, I would never allow anyone to hurt you. Do you know why you haven't heard from me since you left London for Paris?"

  "I thought you and Capri—"

  "Enough with that rubbish," I snap.

  "In that case, no, I don't know," she says in a small voice.

  "I had to make this world mine again before I came for you."

  Her teary eyes widen. "It’s not because you had forgotten about me?"

  "Like that's even possible." That earns me a laugh. “You’re all I think about, Charlotte. You've always been the one… even when you walked out of my life. You were still the one consuming my thoughts.”

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  “It's over, butterfly."

  "What’s over?"

  "The evil Ascotts will never be able to hurt you again."

  "What happened? You couldn't get rid of them no matter what you tried."

  “I have so much to tell you, but I can't force you to listen. You either want to hear me out or not."

  She studies me carefully, as if she's trying to read my soul. I hold her gaze.

  Charlotte inclines her head. "Okay."

  One word, but it's the sweetest one I've heard in a long time.

  "Why don't we sit down?" I point to the illuminated table decorated for the occasion. "There's so much to talk about. Julianne helped me. On my request, her chef prepared an amazing feast for us, and her housekeeper and I got everything ready before you arrived."

  "You did all this?"

  I nod. "I would've done anything for you."

  "I feel like such a fool. Octavia was so convin—"

  "Don't." I stop her. "Given what I know now, we were no match for that level of evil."

  "Wow."

  "Yeah. This isn't the kind of tale you want to hear on an empty stomach," I chuckle.

  "I can't believe Julianne was in on this. What a treacherous sister that one."

  I tense up at her words, but when she lets out a soft laugh, I can't help but laugh.

  "Kenner, Amelia, Veronica, your parents, Terry and even Derek are all in on it. Once they heard my side of the story, they were all on board. This night could never have happened without them.”

  "I'm gobsmacked that they’d go behind my back like that."

  "They were all rooting to get us back together," I set her straight. “You should know by now that I'm a very determined man. Once I have my sights set on something, it's over. Setting the stage for tonight was the easy part. Convincing you that I was as much of a victim as you were—despite what you saw—was the dicey part. So, thank you for being willing to listen."

  CHAPTER 50

  Charlie

  Never in a million years would I have imagined that Barrett would be standing in my sister’s garden. I had swallowed my pride and resigned myself to the fact that I was no more than an afterthought. That I’d willingly given him space to sort out his affairs, but I'll be honest, I was a little hurt by how quickly he had stopped communicating with me. It seemed so abrupt. One minute we’re hot, the next, he can barely remember my name. By the time Octavia had seeped her venomous poison into my veins, I didn't look for any further explanations. I bought her deceitfulness at face value. I really believed that Barrett had played me for a fool and that he was using this latest drama in his life as a front. I hate myself for falling so easily into that cunt’s web.

  It was getting a little too cool to stay outside so we retreated inside. We’re sitting next to each other in my sister’s open-concept dining room, finishing up a sumptuous meal. We didn't do barbecuing in the end. That was also part of Julianne's little plan to throw me off course. That said, her chef dazzled our palates. Everything was delicious. You wouldn't believe how shocked I was when Barrett brought out the heavy dessert box I lugged back. When he opened the lid and declared that he had worked the entire week with Lafayette Bakery to help them perfect my favorite dessert—the raspberry and Cointreau trifle—I nearly melted in a pool of warm feelings.

  "They did good?" he asks as he watches me with amusement painted across his face.

  This is so freaking delicious that I'm a lick away from cleaning my plate with my tongue.

  "Not bad. I think I might need two or three more portions to confirm that they nailed it," I grin.

  "I won’t stop you," he chuckles.

  "Seriously, Barrett, this is incredible. Thank you."

  "It's my pleasure, butterfly."

  Hearing my nickname on his lips shouldn’t bring such a huge grin to my face, but it does. I've missed hearing it. I've missed him.

  "More wine?" he asks grabbing the bottle of Chardonnay by the neck.

  "No. I've had enough," I smile. "Thank you again for the clothing. Julianne was right. I might have given up."

  "Well, for the record, even in the jeans, flip flops and t-shirts, you still looked elegant."

  "Thank you for saying that. Even I knew I looked like a hot mess, but I didn't care. If we’re exchanging compliments, I like the Cali look. It suits you," I say brushing my eyes along his torso.

  Barrett is as handsome as ever. He rocks this laidback casual look of loose-fitting dark wash jeans and unbuttoned black shirt. But don't be fooled, he's as fiercely alpha as the last time I saw him.

  "Thank you. This is a great town. I can see why your sister never wants to leave. I have to admit, I've enjoyed my week here."

  "Yeah, about that. I'm still a little freaked out by your new vocation as a stalker," I laugh.

  I expect him to make a joke, but suddenly his green eyes become stormy. "If you only knew how many times I just wanted to approach you and embrace you in my arms. I didn't, and it killed me every single time. I knew I had to do this the right way because I owed you an explanation."

  "Is this the part of the evening when things become serious?"

&nb
sp; He nods.

  "All right, I'm ready."

  That's a partial lie.

  I'm a little apprehensive about what he's about to tell me, but how bad can it be? Now that I know he never shared anything with Capri Ocean and that he came all the way here just for me, it changes everything.

  Since we’re sitting side-by-side, Barrett turns his chair so he's facing me. I do the same. "Ten and a half months ago—as I was dealing with the accounting nightmare Archer, Cormac and Newton Himes had created—an idiot by the name of Marlon Holloway approached me as I arrived at my office. I didn’t know it then, but he was about to become a thorn in my side.”

  “Who is Marlon Holloway?”

  “I’ll come back to him.” I nod. “As I was trying to do damage control to contain the accounting fiasco that threatened to damage my firm’s reputation, and dealing with this new blow that literally knocked me at the knees, you left me—”

  “Barr—”

  “I don’t blame you. That was a lot of shit to handle and I wasn’t easy to live with. I was angry 24/7.”

  “You should’ve told me what was going on in your life.”

  “I needed to protect you, butterfly.”

  His words are chilling. “You’re scaring me, Barrett.”

  “Let me explain.”

  “Okay.”

  “A month after you had called it quits, Natasha and I became an item."

  My jaw drops. I really didn't expect him to bring her up.

  "Ah, the good old days of #NatBar." I roll my eyes.

  "I paid her, so I could be seen with her."

  "You paid Natasha Herron as an escort?" I shriek.

  "Did you hear me say that?"

  "I'm very confused here."

  "I never had sex with her. I never even kissed her."

  I'm dumbfounded by his confession.

  "You didn’t? But, she's a beauty queen—”

  "She isn’t you.” His words reverberate in my chest.

  “You really mean that?”

  “Bloody right, I do. I needed Natasha as arm candy. I never had any intention for it to be much more than a charade." He says that with absolute conviction.

  “Oh.” Guilt snakes through me. All this time, I thought he had cast me aside.