“Who was the other guy in Michael’s cart?”
“I think his name was Stephen.”
“Stephen…Stephen Fremont.”
“Yeah.”
“So, Steve did make it after all.”
“You know Stephen?” asked Sinclair.
Chance stared down the green. “Yeah, he’s my boss.” Nervous unsteady laughter followed his words.
“This isn’t funny. This affects your job and my job. He wants his daughter to be happy, and she wants you to make her happy. And now, he and your boss are riding around like a mini-gang.”
His arms slid around Sinclair’s waist. “So what.”
“So what?” asked Sinclair.
He ignored her question, but asked his own. “Sinclair what about you? Do I make you happy?” The feel of her in his arms stimulated his thoughts of the nights they’d been spending together. If he could find a tree, he’d take her behind it, and strip her out of the wet shirt clinging to her body, but he could tell from the look on her face that was not going to happen.
“Of course you make me happy, but...”
Tightening his grip on her waist, he pulled her a little closer. “No more objections. Not right now.” The kiss they shared silenced her. Then he turned and walked back to his cart allowing her no time to say anything else. Near the cart, he halted, and faced her once more. “Let’s skip the tented cook-out, and go back to your condo or dinner. Maybe Chinese. Sound good?”
“Sure, if you want.”
“Okay, meet me at my truck when this is over.”
“Okay.”
Chance’s mind wandered while he drove the narrow path back to his beer stand. The whole Raquel and Michael situation was not going away quickly. He knew Sinclair was right to worry about their jobs, but he couldn’t believe he’d finally found someone he wanted to spend time with, and now he had to deal with all kinds of bull to hold it together.
When they were alone everything was so perfect. But as soon as they walked out of the door there was always something causing a problem for them. He was beginning to understand what Sinclair meant, but he didn’t want to let her go.
Chance, went back to his stand, and took up his post. Five hours, hundreds of bottles of water, and even more bottles of beer later Chance pulled away from the golf course with Sinclair sitting beside him.
Later that night, as Sinclair fell asleep nestled up against his side, he wandered…how he had gone for so long without the sense of belonging to another in his life. The sensation of not being alone had evaded him since the death of his father. Work had filled a lot of his needs—not all—but most. It gave him the chance to move around, meet lots of different people—women, and he always had the perfect excuse for leaving. He’d never really had a problem making friends, but he was cautious to avoid falling in love. But this…it felt like he couldn’t get enough of her. Whenever he heard her voice or she was near, he could barely stop smiling. Stephen was right when he said she interfered with his work. Whenever they had a meeting, he never wanted it to end. Just to be close to her made him feel a hundred pounds lighter.
Chance wrapped his other arm around her, and he held on. For the first time in his life, he fell asleep and would wake up beside someone he loved, and that loved him back. He didn’t want it…her to leave him.
A shiny bald head peeped over the top of Chance’s computer monitor. Chance didn’t have to guess who’d have the balls to walk into his office, sit in his chair, and fiddle around with his computer. Stephen Fremont—his boss. He pulled up one of the other chairs, and sat.
“Hey Steve. I didn’t get the chance to speak with you at the tournament this weekend.”
Steve didn’t move. He kept clicking away on the keyboard. “I know. I called you a few times, but your phone was off all weekend.”
“Yeah, I spent the weekend with a friend.” This comment seemed to capture his attention. He lifted his head away from the screen.
“A friend? Sinclair Mosley?”
“Does it matter Steve?”
Steve got up, walked to the office door, and closed it. He returned to the desk, leaned his bottom against it, and folded his arms across his large gut.
“Chance, I know what you’ve been through. I’m happy you found someone you like, but how serious is it with this girl.”
“Girl?” Chance glared up from his seated position at Steve.
Steve threw his arms up in a defensive gesture. “Okay, sorry. Woman.” He returned to his original seated position.
Chance’s words were staccato in tone. “Why does this matter to everyone? We are on our own time.”
“I know…I know, but—” Steve paused before he continued. “But, your phone, your computer, laptop, etc. are mine. The company’s.”
His boss’s words caused his temper to escalate, but he calmed down and chose his words carefully. “What does that mean, Steve?”
“I mean IT brought some things to my attention.”
The sound of his fist striking the desk echoed through the small office. “What?”
“Chance you used company equipment in an inappropriate manner.”
“I used my own private email, and this phone is mine. You just pay the bill.”
“Chance, I just want you to understand. That’s all. Michael really loves your work, and wants you to stay here. Losing you for any reason is not something that I want to do. Tell me what I can do to make this work for you.”
“Make what work Steve? Are you trying to help me or Michael or Raquel?”
Steve stood, and walked toward the door. “I am trying to help everyone. Maybe you should think about your friend more. Did she really sign on for all of this?”
“Close the door behind you, Steve.”
Steve’s words replayed in his mind all day. He knew Sinclair just wanted to work, and go back home. She didn’t sign on for what he was taking her through. But he hadn’t planned on it either. He’d had plans to leave Pennsylvania, and move on to the next spot, but now he’d complicated her life, and his.
Chance ignored his cell phone. He knew it was Sinclair again. He’d gone out with Craig the other night, gotten drunk, and Craig had to drive him home. He passed out on his couch, and showed up at work late. Michael had managed to stay in his face all day. When he left Raquel or someone from her team replaced him.
Chance promised himself he’d call her as soon as he could so he could explain everything. He had thought about it all day. Screwing up Sinclair’s world was not his goal. She only had a few more months before she would be leaving. When they were both gone then they could pick up where they left off. They needed to get away from Carni’s.
Sinclair sat in her weekly ad meeting across from all of the other Category Managers, and fumed. She couldn’t concentrate on what they were saying because she was pissed. She’d been calling, texting, and emailing Chance all day, but she hadn’t received one response.
Raquel waved a hand back and forth in front of Sinclair’s face. “Sinclair. Hello Sinclair.”
Blinking, she shook her head slightly before speaking. “Sorry Raquel. What was your question again?”
Raquel’s hand returned to rest on top of the conference room table. “No problem, I’m sure you have a lot on your mind.” She smiled. “My statement was about some of your General Merchandise items in the bakery and perishable departments. We’re thinking about expanding those departments, and some of the cross-promotions items may have to be eliminated.”
“Which items?”
Raquel slid a memo across the table to Sinclair. Sinclair scanned the page. Raquel and her father wanted to remove about thirty items. Thirty seasonal items Sinclair had gotten them to agree to cut in for the fall season.
“Raquel the sales on some of these items are really fantastic, and not only do my items move but bakery and perishable items sales increased, too.”
“We believe we can expand some of the items in our own categories and increase our sales dramatically.”
She leaned back in her seat. “We believe our sales may improve.”
Sinclair looked around the table. Everyone sat motionless and quiet. Once again Raquel was using her position and the relationship with her father to affect her and her job. From the expressions on the faces at the table, she was convinced that everyone knew it. The items they were discussing used previously unutilized space in both categories. Originally, they were beyond excited with cross-promotions because they used space that was difficult to merchandise. The space was unused and unattractive. Now, everything was different.
“Okay. I guess if I can’t change your minds, I’ll have to figure out different merchandising programs for these items.”
“Great. I knew you’d understand. If I can help you with any of your planning give me a call.”
“Thanks Raquel, but I think I’ll be okay.”
At the conclusion of her meeting, Sinclair rushed to her office. She checked her phone for a call from Chance, not one call from him, but she had two missed calls: one from a number she didn’t recognize, one from Marcus, and no voicemails.
Sinclair ended her day without hearing a word from Chance. She went home and curled up on her couch with some chocolate chip ice cream. She wanted to talk to him, but she didn’t feel like getting his voicemail again. And she knew if she called Kendra or Adena they would just say I told you so. Instead she popped in a DVD.
Close to midnight she turned off the television, and headed towards her bedroom. She stopped when she heard a knock on her apartment door.
“Who is it?”
“It’s me.”
Sinclair unlocked the door, but stood blocking the entrance. She wanted to hug him. She wanted him to hold her, and tell him about her crappy day, but instead she stood immobilized.
“Sinclair can I come in?” His voice did not have its normal certainty. Fisted hands shoved into his pockets. His knuckles imprinted against the cotton fabric.
“Why? You have been ignoring my calls all day.”
“I haven’t been ignoring you. I’ve just been busy.”
Chance leaned in, and kissed her on the cheek. “Forgive me.” He smiled, but it was faint.
The warmth of his lips against her skin tempted her body and mind. She didn’t respond, but she did let him in.
“Sinclair the last few days have been crazy. I had a lot to think about.” Chance walked over to the couch and sat down. He removed his jacket, and tossed it over the arm of the couch. His shoes he placed in a nearby corner.
She closed the door, but stood in front of him.
He stared at the floor for a moment as if searching for the words he needed. “Sinclair I’m sorry I dropped off the grid, but Steve, Michael and Raquel worked me this time.”
“What are you talking about?” Her words were angry.
“I called you a few times, but you didn’t answer.”
“No you didn’t.”
“Yes, I did. I bought a new phone. Now, I have a 717 number.”
The unknown number on her missed call log, but he’d only called once. It’s not like he tried very hard to reach her. “Oh, that was you. Why didn’t you leave a message? I thought it was a wrong number.”
“I didn’t think about you not recognizing the number, but I knew I was coming here tonight.”
“Why’d you buy a new phone?”
“You know it’s not important. The thing is Sinclair…Michael, Raquel and Steve are really giving me a hard time. I am going to take a few weeks to work on a project off-site, and someone is going to replace me here.”
“What? Why?” Sadness washed over her. In a short period of time, she’d grown used to having him by her side. Imagining the next few weeks without him caused her stomach to flip flop. She fought the urge to cry. Standing near him gave her even more pain. She sat in one of the small dinette table chairs on the other side of the room.
“I will be back. I will be back in a few weeks. But when I come back, I need us to figure out some things.” For a long time, he said nothing. He sat, and gazed into her eyes. She couldn’t take the pressure of the stare. She turned her head, and stared down the hallway leading to her bedroom.
“Where are you going?”
“Back to Long Island for a few weeks.” He rose from the couch, and walked over to her.
“You’re leaving me here to deal with all of this alone.” What kind of a man would leave her alone to deal with hate and stupidity? Trembles of anger and hurt flowed through her body. His touch heightened their intensity.
“No, I’m not leaving you. I just need to take care of a few things, but I’ll be back. And I think this will be the best. I think when I’m gone, things will be different. Easier for you.”
“What? Why would you think that things would be easier?” Sinclair snatched her hands away. “Don’t worry about it Chance. I can handle myself. Just leave. It seems to be what you want to do anyway. What you’re good at.” Her harsh words mirrored her feelings of anger.
“Sinclair. That’s not fair. Come on.” He dropped to one knee, and placed his hand underneath her chin lifting her gaze to meet his. “While I’m gone, I will get some things together, and I think the gang at Carni’s will leave you alone. I’m the reason they’ve been digging their claws into you and making it hard for you to do your job.”
She quickly slapped his hand away from her face. “Whatever, Chance.” He might be right, but she didn’t really want to hear it. She didn’t want him to leave. He’d made her love him, and now he was leaving her. She’d be alone again.
Grabbing his shoulders with both hands, she pushed him away, and stood. She walked over to the door, opened it, and waited. Her ears perked at the sound of a distant howl of a dog, but otherwise, parked cars and darkness greeted her.
Chance stood in the center of the room. “You want me to leave?”
Focused on anything, but him, she replied. “Yes, please. I’m tired. I had a really rough day.”
“Why was your day so rough?”
Why the hell did he run away so much? She knew why. His mother ran. His father died. His daughter was taken away. Although she was pissed, she understood that staying in one place with one person went against everything he knew how to do. Everything he knew how to be. “Don’t worry about it, Chance. I can take care of myself.”
She shoved his shoes at him. He tucked them underneath one arm and threw his jacket across the other before he walked out. The click of the deadbolt clanged behind him.
Chapter Ten
Sinclair’s parents always had an uncanny way of knowing she was unhappy. As far back as she could remember she’d never been able to hide anything from either one of them. If she tried to lie about a grade, a PTA meeting, or sorority hi-jinks she never could get away with anything.
When she saw her parents’ number pop up on her caller I.D., she could have let it go to voicemail, but she didn’t. She never liked to miss calls from her parents. Before she answered, she tried to perk up her voice by practicing a few quick hellos, but she was not able to fool them. Her father wouldn’t give up.
“So, Baby girl tell me why you sound so down in the dumps?” He asked.
“I’m not down Pop. It’s late. I’m just a little tired.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, I was dozing off a little bit.”
“Hmm, really? O.K. Well, your mother and I figure since you’ll be moving back in a few months that we should come to visit you before you leave.”
“Visit me?”
“Yep. Visit. Your mother found some pretty cheap tickets on the Internet with the new computer you bought her. We’re going to be there for about a week.”
“A week!”
“Yep. You don’t work on Saturdays do you?”
“Saturday coming?”
“No. A few weeks from now. We might be able to get a cheaper ticket. Your mother’s still playing on that dang thing.”
“O.K. Pop. Please call me before you buy the tickets.”
&nb
sp; “That’s what I’m doing now. We’ll call you in the next few days to let you know our flight information.”
“O.K. Pop.”
“Love ya, Baby girl. Get some sleep.”
“Love ya too, Pop. Good night.”
The next few weeks were a blur to Sinclair. She dreaded her parents coming to Harrisburg. She hadn’t spoken to Chance, and her job was taking up so much of her time. Her parents would see through her for sure when they arrived.
She’d agreed to meet Marcus a few times since Chance was M.I.A. She’d tried to talk with him about her low sales, but he was still too busy talking about his barber shops. He’d actually opened one of them, and he and his partner were scouting out locations for the next one. They were calling the shops CUTZ.
The new woman—Kristin something—who replaced Chance would not meet with Sinclair after hours, so Sinclair had been working on pulling numbers during the day and plan-o-grams and merchandising after work and on weekends. She was talking to a vendor about a new merchandising rack for special order fall themed plates when the reminder notice on her phone chimed. She ignored it until she realized it was reminding her of her parents’ arrival at the airport. As quickly as she could, she chose a rack design which fit in with her category. Then she ran through the building to her car. She was lucky she didn’t get a ticket as she sped toward Middletown and Harrisburg International Airport.
She pulled into one of the empty short-term parking spots, hopped out of her car, and made her way to the sky bridge. Breathless, she practically ran down the moving sidewalks towards the baggage claim areas for Delta. Scrolling through her phone, she looked for her parents’ flight information, and then scanned the LED displays overhead in search of the right conveyor belt loaded down with luggage. Before she could find them, they found her.
“Clair, Clair,” yelled her mother.
Her Mother’s waving hand from the middle of the crowd could barely be seen. Sinclair was only about 5'5" herself but her mother was even shorter, although you would never know it because she always wore at least a 3-inch heel.
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