Perfect Chance

by Amanda Carpenter

  “You look good, too.” He didn’t, though. He looked bad in such an exotic, enticing way, he could make her forget all about good plain common sense. She didn’t feel afraid, though she thought she ought to. She felt safe—protected. She wondered when reality would hit her.

  Her loose, waist-length fall of hair spilled over his arm. He sank his fingers into it. “Your phone number’s unlisted, Dr. Mary. You want to give it to me, or should I call you at work?”

  She stared up at him, thrilled. Two and a half hours away from each other, and he’d tried to look her up. Her home phone number tumbled out of her mouth, and he repeated it, eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

  Victor’s frigid voice sliced into the warm cocoon where she was hiding. “Mary, are you all right?”

  She jerked, startled, and Chance’s hold tightened briefly before he let go of her and stepped back. The night breeze seemed chilled in contrast, and she touched her hair self-consciously as she summoned up a bewildered smile.

  Victor stood with Cassie, his slim, elegant body taut and expression mildly inquiring. But his eyes were furious. She felt again that sinking sensation from earlier. Cassie, she noticed, was watching Chance closely, but his bland face showed nothing. “I’m— fine. How are you, Victor?”

  He ignored that and strode up to interpose his body between her and Chance. “I thought you were going to look for Tim,” he bit out.

  Oh, Lord. Was she ever going to get a measure of control over what happened that evening? She looked around and was overwhelmed with relief to catch sight of Tim winding his way slowly through the crowd, laden down with hot dogs, elephant ears, cans of soda and bags of chips. “There he is!” she squeaked. “Hi, Timmy! I’ve been looking for you.”

  Tim glanced up with a wide grin, took in the scene of adults around him, caught sight of Cassie, and dropped a can of soda. His eyes rounded and grew lambent with love-struck awe. “Uh, I got some for everybody—I thought…Hi.”

  Mary put a hand to her forehead, which had begun to throb. What next?

  Victor whispered tightly, “Mary, don’t think this is over. You and I are still going to have that talk.”

  God, she owed him some kind of explanation, the way she’d been acting. She put a hand on his arm and murmured, “Later. We’ll talk later, I promise.”

  Cassie said loudly, “Why don’t we all just make it one big party and go find somewhere to sit down?”

  Mary followed the rest of the group as they searched for an open space to settle on the beach. Chance shrugged out of his jacket and offered it to Mary to sit on, and then lounged back on the sand. Victor stationed himself on her other side like a guard dog. Tim passed around food, hovered around Cassie like a bee to a honey pot, and exclaimed over the fire-works. Cassie, who had removed her high-heeled shoes and carried them dangling from one hand, responded with friendly amusement to his incessant chatter.

  Tim’s making enough noise for all of us, Mary thought as she chewed without interest on her hot dog. Bless his heart. The unpredictable silence between the two men was gnawing at her stomach. Chance appeared to be relaxed enough, propped back on both elbows with legs crossed at booted ankles, but Victor was vibrating with hostility.

  The food was sitting like rocks in her middle. She put half her hot dog down, uneaten, and glanced at Chance. His T-shirt glowed very white against the darker hue of his tan. He looked back at her, his eyes lit from the fire in the sky, and for one brief moment they glowed strangely feline.

  Then his lips pursed quickly in a kiss. Her head snapped around and she stared at the shore in front of her. Then she sneaked a peek back at him. He winked. Incorrigible man! She whipped around to see if Victor had seen any of it.

  He had. He was staring balefully at Chance, jaw out.

  Mary set her drink down so hard, soda splashed out of the can.

  I want to go home. Now. I mean it this time.

  Cassie’s low, husky voice said in her ear, “Hey, sugar, could you show me where the rest rooms are?”

  “Yes,” Mary moaned, and she shot to her feet.

  “I could have shown you,” Tim said brightly.

  “Sorry, soldier. This trip is girls only. Come on, honey.” Cassie took her hand and led her away.

  Mary squeezed the older woman’s slender fingers in a silent message of gratitude. Cassie squeezed back before letting her hand drop, then she lifted her red hair up and shook it out with a gusty snort.

  “You might want your shoes,” Mary suggested. “There might be broken glass around the rest rooms.”

  “That’s all right. I don’t really need to go. I just thought you might like to get away for a few minutes,” Cassie said. “Lord, you could cut the air back there with a knife.”

  It was a pretty powerful turnaround of feeling, to go from pure hate to such a sense of appreciation in less than an hour. Mary smiled tentatively and was rewarded with an instant warm smile in return. “Thank you, I did need to be rescued. It’s been a long day, and I’m a little out of my depth.”

  “Looks to me like anybody would be, with those two acting the.way they are.” Shrewd green eyes studied Mary, but it wasn’t an unkind scrutiny.

  She asked impulsively, “Are you really Chance’s half sister?”

  “Oh, so he confessed, did he?” Cassie laughed. “Yes, I am. We share a mother, and a—certain sense of humor. Are you really a doctor?”

  Mary chuckled. “Yes. A resident, actually.”

  “Chance said he met you in the emergency room this afternoon.”

  So he had talked about her? Mary’s step grew springy until she seemed to float. “What else did he say?”

  Cassie’s gaze danced. “He said he was throwing his weight around as usual, and you threw it back again. He had such a note of respect in his voice, I got in-trigued, because Chance doesn’t respect much. Way to be, sugar.”

  Mary’s chuckle turned into an outright laugh. It bubbled infectiously in the air around them, aerated like champagne.

  In an impulsive gesture, Cassie swung an arm around her shoulders and then turned serious. “Hey, I’ve really enjoyed hearing about you and meeting you. Would you like to call me sometime, and maybe we could get together and talk?”

  Mary’s eyes brightened. Underneath that worldly siren image was a really warm person whom.she’d like to get to know. “Yes, I would.”

  “Great! I own a bookstore in town called The Crystal Dragon, and I live above it. The number’s in the book, and you can call any time. It rings all over the place. Maybe you can come over for coffee and cheesecake. Do you like cheesecake?”

  “I love it.” And maybe not only would she acquire a new friend, but she could also find out more about Chance.

  Cassie covered a yawn with the back of her hand, and Mary yawned, too. “We’d better get back,” Cassie said, “and see if anybody’s still alive.”

  Mary was fed up with the emotional roller coaster she’d been on all day. She looked back the way they’d come and said wistfully, “Do we have to?”

  Cassie paused and then said wickedly, “Well, no. I could run you home on my bike. Chance can walk home from here. Course, without a jacket you’d freeze to death and get bugs all over your pretty top.”

  Mary giggled. So the motorcycle was Cassie’s. Chance still drove it like a professional. “And poor Tim would have to go home with Victor. I mean—” that, as Cassie started to guffaw “—I mean, Victor’s mood wouldn’t improve, would it, and—and—”

  “I know what you mean. Your brother’s a sweetie. Come on, let’s go rescue him now.”

  They wandered back to the men, where they found Tim and Chance deep in lively conversation. Victor was standing a few feet away and talking with a surgeon from the hospital.

  Tim had jumped to his feet as soon as he laid eyes on them, almost pointing at Cassie like a retriever. Chance, looking around, straightened more slowly.

  Cassie bent and scooped up her shoes. “It’s past my bedtime, ladies and gents. We
ought to be leaving now, Chance.”

  “But you have to stay for the finale,” Tim exclaimed.

  Mary went over to him and said quietly, “I’m sorry, Timmy, but I’m so tired my head is spinning. I need to go home now, too.”

  “Oh, but—” the boy protested.

  “Tim.” Chance spoke his name good-naturedly, and that was all he said, but Tim shut up immediately and shrugged in resignation.

  “All right.”

  Mary stared at Tim in astonishment. That was it? He hardly ever gave in that gracefully. She and Cassie weren’t the only big turnaround of the evening. Unless she missed her guess, there was a serious case of hero worship for Chance going in her little brother.

  Chance picked up his jacket and slung it over one wide shoulder, then walked over to Mary. She clasped her hands together nervously, feeling the strangest, strongest desire to reach out to him with open arms.

  He stroked the back of his fingers down the side of her face and gave her a private smile. “Call you tomorrow, Dr. Mary?” he said softly.

  She glowed up at him; she couldn’t help it. “All right.”

  She felt rather than heard it: his breath taken in quick. He opened his fingers and cupped her cheek, features sharpened and eyes gone heavy-lidded. “I won’t call early. Pleasant dreams, babe.”

  “Good night,” she breathed.

  This time Tim wasn’t staring at her in astonishment as Chance and Cassie left. He was staring after them, as well. God, she thought with the beginnings of self-disgust, he’s as moonstruck as I am. Aren’t we a pair?

  Victor wasn’t moonstruck, though. As it finally occurred to her to see if he’d finished his conversation, she turned to find him watching her, not with the open anger from earlier, but with something else on his face, something settled and severe and waiting.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  THE trip home was, like the trip to the lighthouse, conducted in silence.

  Tim was stretched out in the back of the Volvo, sleepily humming. Victor drove fast with a sharp, pre-occupied frown, while Mary stared out her window at the moonlit bay and wondered if there was any way she could postpone talking with Victor until they had both had some sleep.

  Her muscles were loose and shaky, all her joints seeming to come unglued at the thought of how nice and warm and soft her bed was going to feel. Besides, a skeptical part of her was saying, how do you know that in the morning you won’t be waking up to the realization that this afternoon and evening were just one long hallucination?

  Chance won’t call! He might be nothing more than some intense, hitherto deeply buried wish fulfillment. Just some figment of your imagination, a product of your overworked brain from too many long, hard shifts at work and not enough fun. Oh, Mary, you’ll say in the morning, wasn’t that a silly way to behave, and what do you have to show for it? One upset boy-friend and an “I’ll call you in the morning”.

  He won’t call. Men like Chance never call…or so I’ve heard! He was only fooling around with me because his real date for the evening came down with chicken pox. He’s going to go home and put my soul in a pickle jar, and stick me on a shelf with all the other souls he’s snatched. A soul museum, that’s what he’s got. We’ll spend our time getting to know each other, all us souls. We’ll chat about how life used to be before Chance came along. After all, what else is there to do when you’re in a pickle jar?

  Victor switched off the car engine. With a start, Mary realized that they’d arrived home.

  Tim struggled to a sitting position, his face cracking into a wide yawn. “I had fun tonight,” he said cheerfully. “Thanks for letting me tag along, guys.”

  “Hmm? Oh, you’re welcome, Tim,” Victor said automatically. “Why don’t you run along inside and let me say good-night to your sister?”

  Mary sighed. The time of reckoning had come. She suppressed the cowardly desire to run into the house with her brother, and twisted in her seat to give Tim a smile. “Yes, you go on inside now.”

  Tim frowned. She could see the thought go over his face. First he caught her kissing one man that evening, and now she was going to kiss another. But thankfully, all he said was, “I’ll go on to bed, then.”

  She said to him, “I won’t be but a few minutes, sweetheart.”

  He leaned forward and kissed her. His eyes asked her if she knew what she was doing.

  Her eyes said firmly, of course I do, and I am absolutely all right. But her heart said differently. What her heart said she kept to herself.

  Then Tim slipped out of the car, ran up the porch steps, and disappeared into the house.

  Mary turned to face Victor, who was staring out the windshield and tapping his fingers against the steering wheel. The silence stretched and grew too thin, until Mary cleared her throat and said quietly, “I don’t know what to say, Vic.”

  “You’re attracted to him.” His voice was flat.

  She stared out of the car, feeling an ache in her chest. Why was she feeling achy? She couldn’t tell from Victor’s tone of voice or from his face if he was even hurt. Maybe it was her pride that was aching. All of her feelings were right out there for everyone to see, and she felt naked. Why prevaricate?

  “Yes,” she said. “I’m sorry.”

  “You’re sorry.”

  She moved jerkily. “Yes, I am, especially if it’s hurt you. I—wasn’t looking for this to happen, Vic. It just happened. I don’t even know him, I just—” I just know when—if—he calls tomorrow, I need to see him again.

  His head turned toward her, and he looked at her at last, sadly. “I know you don’t know him. I’ll bet you haven’t even had the chance to think this through properly.” His hand came out to cover hers. “Mary, sometimes people can’t help whom they’re attracted to. It’s what you do about it that matters. I’m worried about you.”

  She blinked down at his hand. It was, like the rest of him, fine-boned and graceful. She remembered Chance’s hands, wide, strong and calloused, and so gentle. She thrust the thought out of her mind.

  Victor was being so kind and understanding. Somehow he had managed to put aside his jealousy and was just being her friend. She hadn’t expected this. The tension eased out of her body, and she grasped his hand tightly.

  I’m worried about me, too, she thought, but said reassuringly, “Try not to be. You know how careful I am.”

  He smiled at that, stroking her fingers. “Yes, you’ve always been cautious, normally. I’ve just never seen you behave the way you did this evening.”

  That’s because I’ve never behaved that way before. She rubbed her face hard. “I’m all right.”

  Was that the truth, or was that what she wanted to be the truth?

  Victor said gently, “Are you all right, darling? Don’t underestimate Chance. I’ve heard a few things about him today that are pretty disturbing, from people who know him well. He’s made conquests far more worldly and jaded than you are. Apparently he has quite an—appetite, and no respect for marriage vows.”

  The words slapped Mary in the face. She forced herself to breathe evenly; why was she so shocked? She’d already admitted, to herself and to Victor, that she didn’t know anything about Chance.

  But she was disappointed, crushingly so. There had been such a birth of hope in her today, she was only now beginning to conceive of how deep and far-reaching it had gone. Despite her innate caution, despite the glimpses she’d seen of his predatory sensuality, she’d focused instead on Chance’s gentleness, the sense she had of being protected, even cherished. She’d even dared to hope that the erotic heat they had shared was something special and extraordinary for him, too. Instead it seemed that all her fears had been realized.

  She could have nothing important in common with someone who didn’t respect marriage vows. Even his own sister said he didn’t respect much. And he’d come into the hospital with a married woman whose husband came in much later. Her husband couldn’t have been on the yacht. Was Chance having an affair with her?
r />   Welcome back to the real world, Mary.

  Victor was watching her, his dark gaze attentive— was it pleased? Her shoulders bowed down. No wonder he didn’t berate her with his jealousy. He’d had something far more substantial to say.

  She said leadenly, “I’ve got to go in now, Vic.”

  “Yes,” he said immediately, his voice soothing. “You need to go to bed. I need to get home, too. I’ll call you?”

  “Yes, all right.” She stared at him as if he were a stranger. Charming, handsome, patient, safe Victor. If that was to be the definition of her life, why couldn’t she find pleasure in it? Why couldn’t she feel for Victor what she had felt for Chance?

  Maybe that would come with time. Maybe someday soon she could look at Victor and be pleased with the thought of what their life could be like together. Maybe it was only because of what had happened today that she felt trapped. After Chance it all looked so sterile.

  “How do you feel about having children someday?” she asked suddenly.

  He froze in surprise, then smiled indulgently. “I think children might be wonderful, someday. When both our careers are going well, anything could happen.”

  “But that could be years for me. I’m twenty-six— what if I don’t want to wait that long?” she persisted, feeling her eyes prickle.

  His smile twisted, and his eyebrows drew together. “And throw out all your hard work? You’re tired, darling. Everything will look better tomorrow.”

  “Will it?” she whispered.

  “Of course it will.” He leaned forward and pressed a kiss against her lips.

  It was a light, undemanding pressure, warm and pleasant enough, but no fireworks. Mary dutifully kissed him back, and kept her eyes closed to hide how teary she was.

  He pulled back, looking as smooth and unruffled as ever. “Good night, darling.”