The shark tank stood in the middle of the room, an enormous rectangle of thick plastic, the shark swimming back and forth inside of it. The briny scents of salt water and fish grew stronger as they walked closer. The floor around it was wet and slippery from water being pushed over the lip when the shark glided too close to the edge.
“The shark!” Oliver squealed, his voice echoing in the cavernous room as he rushed to press his hands against the wall. The shark swam toward Oliver, and Madelyn rushed forward, slipping a little on the wet floor, to grab his hand and pull him back a few feet.
“Let’s give him his space,” she said, keeping one eye on the tank. “And I need you to be really quiet, okay? Whispers.”
A couple of people in wetsuits stood at the platform over the shark tank, chatting, and everyone else was busy cleaning. Hopefully if they got in trouble, it was only the kind that got them kicked out and not worse. She gripped her backstage pass like a weapon.
It was interesting to be at the bottom of such a huge arena, looking up at all of the red, towering seats. Staggering. While they were dating, Graham did community theater, and even though he tried to downplay his talent, he had been amazing. He connected with the audience in a way that made his characters come alive. Graham had said once that the energy of the crowd always made a huge difference and enhanced his performance in a way nothing else could.
That concept was difficult for Madelyn to understand. The thought of so many people watching her made her ill, not excited. She loved meeting people one-on-one or in small groups, asking questions, keeping the attention focused on whomever she was interviewing and making them shine in her articles.
It had been a long time since she’d written something like that.
“Mommy, look! The fire ring!” Oliver whisper-yelled, tugging at her arm, all semblance of disappointment gone.
“Let’s go see.” She followed Oliver to the parked motorcycle, then to the ring that had been lit on fire and the bungee cord he’d been released from during the second half of the show.
“This is so cool!” Oliver ran to the bungee cord and picked up the end of it. “Remember Chance fell from the ceiling?” Oliver jumped and pretended to fall in slow motion, making sound effects through puffed-out cheeks.
She smiled at his antics. Before Chance had bungeed from the high platform, he’d told them he learned something on all of his adventures, and from a woman in China he’d learned to let go. Of his past. Of his fear. Of expectations.
In retrospect, the message should have been enough for her to realize Chance was Graham. He’d always loved a big, inspirational monologue.
And his speech had been as cheesy as those monologues ever could be, but the way he said it, the entire audience, including Madelyn, had been captivated. While he told the story of the woman who had found peace with the life of hardship she’d lived, he’d walked along a thin ledge that made him nearly even with the highest seats in the arena. The woman’s story had been moving. Inspiring. And Chance’s speech had made Madelyn long for the freedom he seemed to encapsulate.
He’d concluded by promising everyone that if they let go of their fears, amazing things could happen, and then swan-dove from the ledge. The entire arena held their collective breaths. It had been an incredible moment.
But the dangling cord reminded her it was all a show.
Oliver checked out all the little nooks of the arena floor, running excitedly to each one. Madelyn glanced at her watch nervously. They’d been wandering around for over thirty minutes. Someone important was bound to come by, and she wanted to be long gone before that happened.
“One last look at the shark, and then it’s time to head home for bed.”
“I’m not tired,” Oliver said in his tired, whiny voice, but raced off to see the shark.
“Slow down! It’s slippery,” she called out after him.
He slowed his steps to a skip. She chuckled at how his body wiggled with the repressed desire to go faster, and he disappeared around the corner of the tank.
Madelyn approached the tank and watched the tiger shark glide through the water. It was almost mesmerizing, if she could keep the ominous movie music from running through her mind.
A deep voice spoke from beside her. “Magnificent creature, isn’t it?”
Her heart ratcheted up to a million beats a minute, and she couldn’t move.
“Have you seen Glen around?” From the corner of her eye she saw Graham rock back on his heels. “I want to make sure the shark gets taken care of before I head out.”
Was it possible he hadn’t recognized her? She turned so her back was to him a little more. “I haven’t seen him.” She spoke in a lower voice than normal. This was ridiculous!
“He’s got to be here. I swear he never lets the shark leave his sight.”
“Hmm,” she responded.
She sensed him turn more fully toward her. “You work for the arena, right?”
Now was her chance to run. Except Oliver was on the other side of the tank. His slow, shuffling footsteps were the only indication he would eventually make his way around it. She couldn’t run. And she wouldn’t make this moment worse by acting immature.
She turned fully toward him.
It took less than a second for the recognition to flicker through his wide eyes. Less than a second for her to take him all in, so close up, to see the familiar tilt to his lips, the slight indention in his chin, the smooth hair she’d run her fingers through countless times. He sucked in a deep breath when their eyes met.
Time seemed to stop until she spoke. “Hi, Graham.”
Chapter Five
Chance felt as if he’d been punched in the stomach.
Madelyn Long stood in front of him. The same shoulder-length brown hair. The same soft, full lips and expressive eyes. They were hooded now, but he could see the edge of fear in them. Like it wouldn’t take much on his part for her to bolt. Again.
And maybe that would be for the best. It had taken him years to get Madelyn out of his head, to get to the point where he could go days, or even months, without thinking of her. She was merely an interesting footnote from his years at college. A footnote he’d rather never think about again.
He tore his gaze away and slipped into his comfortable stage persona. He was a different person now. No longer the college kid who tried too hard to make everyone like and notice him, who didn’t know what he wanted in life. He was Chance Risk.
He deepened his voice. “Actually, I go by Chance now. It’s Madelyn, right?”
She gave him a strained smile. “Yep.”
He shook his head and stuck his hands in his pockets, going for casual. “It’s been, what? Eight years?”
“Something like that.” She folded her arms, and his memory flashed back to when she’d do that in college when she was uncomfortable. She had a yellow sweater then, too, just like the one she was wearing now, and whenever he used to see it, it made him think she embodied sunshine.
Chance rocked back on his heels. “Do you work for the arena or …?” Are you here to see me?
She shook her head quickly, still not looking at him. “Just here to see the shark.”
“Did you watch the show?”
Instead of asking more questions, he needed to just walk away. Or better yet, call security and have them question Madelyn.
“I did. You definitely lead an adventurous life.” At this, she finally looked at him, and by her wry expression, he didn’t know if it was a compliment.
The awkward silence continued. There was really nothing to say to someone who had broken off an eleven-month relationship with a vague note. That’s what bugged him the most. Women had broken up with him before, but he’d always known why. With Madelyn, it was like his favorite television show had been canceled mid-season, leaving behind a ton of unresolved plot lines.
So he kept the painful conversation going. “You stayed around here?”
“Santa Lourdes is home,” she said with a shrug.
Had she been here all along? Only miles away from UCLA? Right after she’d left, he wondered many times if she’d decided to pursue her dream of traveling the world. If being with him had only been holding her back.
“Married?” He wished the question back the moment he asked.
“Divorced,” she said shortly. “You?”
“Neither.” Weariness at the banality of this conversation washed over him. “Why are you really here, Madelyn?”
She turned to him fully. “I didn’t know you were Chance Risk before we got here. We just came for the show and should probably leave.”
“We?” he asked.
“Oliver!” Madelyn called out. A shuffling sound from the other side of the shark tank picked up speed. “My son,” she supplied.
Son? He nearly choked on his tongue. He shouldn’t be surprised; it had been eight years, after all.
A little boy, maybe five or six, with a head of riotous blond hair rounded the far corner and ran toward them, a wide smile on his face. “Chance Risk!” the boy whooped. “I thought we couldn’t see him.”
Chance glanced at Madelyn, who studiously avoided meeting his eyes. “Slow down,” Madelyn warned her son, but he only slowed a fraction. “This is Oliver,” she said to Chance.
Oliver kicked his pace into a full on sprint. Chance saw the huge puddle of water in his path just as Madelyn yelled, “Watch out!” She lunged toward him, but it was too late.
Oliver’s foot hit the slick puddle, and his feet flew out from under him. He went down hard, his head rearing back into the corner of the shark tank with a loud crack that echoed in the quiet room.
Madelyn rushed to his side and knelt by him with alarm. “Oliver!”
Chance followed, his stomach flipping when he saw the blood pooling near Oliver’s ear. The boy’s eyes were closed, and though his chest was rising and falling, he wasn’t responding to his mom.
“Glen!” Chance yelled. A few seconds later, Glen peered over the edge of the platform beside the shark tank. “Get the medics here. A kid has been hurt.”
“Right away,” Glen said, scrambling down the ladder, talking into his phone.
“Oliver,” Madelyn said in a firm tone. “Open your eyes for Mommy.”
It was only a few seconds, but they felt like an eternity. Oliver’s eyes fluttered open, and with it, he started crying. “My head hurts.”
Madelyn tilted his head gently to the side, revealing a one-inch gash on the back of his head, blood still pouring from it, with a huge bump forming. “Does your neck hurt?” she asked.
“No. Just my head.”
“Looks like you’re going to need a few stitches on this, bud.” Chance tried to sound calm, even though his heart pounded. It was one thing to do risky things where he felt in control. It was a whole other thing to see a kid get hurt, and feel like there was nothing he could do about it.
“Just rest, okay?” Madelyn said. She took a few deep breaths and then turned to Chance. He hadn’t realized how close they were until she was facing him. He pulled back slightly. “I need a towel or something.”
He stood, glad for something to do. “I’ll grab one.”
He ran to grab a towel from backstage and checked that Glen had called for help before rushing back to Madelyn. She didn’t spare him a glance as she took the towel with trembling hands.
She slid the towel under Oliver’s head, pressing against the wound. Chance stood off to the side, feeling out of place.
“What happened?” Oliver blinked. “Did the shark get me?”
Madelyn ran her hand softly over Oliver’s cheek. “No, honey. You were running and you slipped. You don’t remember?”
“No. I saw you and …” His eyes lit up and swiveled toward Chance. “You’re Chance Risk!”
“Nice to meet you, Oliver.” Chance knelt at Oliver’s side and took his weak hand. “That’s quite a battle wound you’re going to have.”
“Hold really still.” Madelyn leaned over Oliver, coming within inches of Chance. He took in her soft, floral fragrance, reminding him of a springtime meadow. She pulled back the towel to peer at the bleeding cut. Oliver cried out at the movement. “I’m sorry, but I have to stop the bleeding before I can carry you outside.” She sounded on the verge of tears herself.
Chance shook his head. “An ambulance is on the way.”
“No, thank you,” Madelyn said firmly. “I’ll drive him to urgent care. He only needs a few stitches.”
Chance raised both of his eyebrows. “He might have a concussion!”
“I will make sure to tell them,” she replied, infuriatingly calm.
“You’re going to the hospital,” Chance said. So many of their former fights came back to him in a rush. How often had he tried to talk some sense into her about accepting help, and she refused to listen? He’d forgotten how crazy that used to make him.
“Graham,” she said through her teeth.
“It’s Chance,” he interrupted. Hearing his real name was getting under his skin.
“Really? Fine. Chance,” she said, with some asperity. “We can’t afford an ambulance or a hospital stay, okay? The urgent care can do the stitches for him at a fraction of the cost, and I’ll follow up with his pediatrician on Monday.”
“I’ll cover the expenses.”
“No, you won’t.”
Well, it seemed her stubbornness hadn’t changed over the last eight years. “We have insurance for this kind of thing. He was injured at one of my shows. The event will cover it.”
Madelyn ground her teeth.
“I want to ride in an ambulance,” Oliver said, his voice small and hopeful.
“See?” Chance said, lifting an imploring brow.
Madelyn closed her eyes, giving him an unguarded moment to really take her in. Her yellow sweater was fraying at the sleeves; her jeans were faded and worn. She emanated a bone-deep weariness. Where did she work? Who had she married? How did she get by? A million questions swirled through his brain. A million questions he had no right to ask.
“Please, Madelyn,” he said. “Just trust me.”
Madelyn opened her eyes, the vulnerability in them nearly knifing him in the gut. “There’s got to be paperwork for something like that.”
“I have people who deal with this kind of thing all the time. You can’t do what I do and not have really good insurance.”
She still seemed conflicted, but a group of EMTs rushed into the arena with a stretcher and bags of fluid. Chance stood and waved them over. The medics surrounded Oliver and Madelyn, closing Chance out.
Madelyn explained what happened to the EMTs, and Chance stepped back. They’d be taken care of. There was nothing here for him anymore. He glanced back one last time, and met Oliver’s scared gaze. Chance winked, causing the kid to give him a grimace-like smile.
The EMTs blocked his view as they lifted Oliver, and Chance slipped away.
Chapter Six
It was a long night for Madelyn and Oliver. As Madelyn had suspected, Oliver only needed some children’s pain reliever and a couple of stitches, and then they were sent home with instructions to follow up with his pediatrician. Luckily he didn’t have a concussion. The doctor said he might have passed out for a second, but most likely he’d just been stunned by the fall and had the wind knocked out of him. By the time Madelyn had gotten Oliver home and into bed, it had been almost three in the morning.
She pulled her laptop out to work on her article, but her mind kept drifting back to Graham. How attraction for him still tugged at her as strongly as ever. His arms were more muscled than before, and time had sharpened the angles of his jaw and cheekbones. The dark five-o’clock shadow across his face contrasted with the bleached-blond hair in a way that made her stomach dip with awareness.
His need to step in and fix things for her was still as strong as ever, too.
In college, she had been fresh and young. Sure she knew everything, ready to redefine herself as someone new. She didn’t know who that new person mig
ht be, but it wasn’t someone like her mom, who was lost without a man in her life. Madelyn’s childhood had been cut through by a running stream of new men who thrived on being her mom’s knight in shining armor. At least until the sheen wore off and her mom’s chronic helplessness became tiresome.
Or maybe it was the fact that she wouldn’t ditch Madelyn that became tiresome. Turned out, most men weren’t interested in raising someone else’s kid.
Eventually Madelyn learned to pitch in more, hoping her mom would see she didn’t need a man to help her. But Madelyn was never enough, and nothing she did could change her mom’s vital desire to be in a relationship.
So Madelyn arrived at college, determined to be someone independent and self-assured. Then Graham came along, so handsome it was almost painful to look at him, and kind in a way she’d never experienced. Maybe that’s how he’d gotten past her defenses. She’d found herself becoming too entrenched, too dependent, too willing to let him lift the burdens that were hers to carry. Putting a stop to things before they went any further was necessary.
Her email dinged, bringing her pack to the present. “Focus, Madelyn.” She’d have all day tomorrow to think about Graham and the past, but for the next three hours, she had to pretend he didn’t exist.
She wrote down everything she already knew about the Senator’s scandal and scanned his website for more info. She needed to maintain the impartial tone Verity News was known for, while still being interesting and informative. The Verity website had several articles on Senator Brightman, one of which linked to the website for the other California Senator, Gordon Wilmot. Madelyn skimmed Senator Wilmot’s site for a statement about the situation. Three clicks later, she found what she was looking for and opened her doc to start writing. She toggled between the eight open tabs on her computer, taking down notes as fast as her fingers could type, until her eyes blurred with exhaustion.
If she could just rest her head back against the couch and close her eyes for a moment, maybe they wouldn’t be so dry.
Take a Chance on Me_A My Heart Channel Romance Page 3
