The Heartbreaker

by Carly Phillips

  Raina put down the magazine she’d been thumbing through. “She must have a valid reason.”

  He glanced at his mother, annoyed with her attempt to be the voice of reason, and he gritted his teeth. If it weren’t for the fact that dissecting his life took the focus off waiting on Charlotte, he’d walk out on this farce of a conversation now. Hannah, thank God, had gotten engrossed on her phone and wasn’t paying attention.

  “She must have a valid reason,” Chase mimicked. But when he let himself think, he was forced to admit the truth. “She does,” he admitted aloud. “Sloane thinks I’ve got this white-knight complex. That I feel guilty I wasn’t there when she got shot.”

  “Do you?” Kendall asked softly.

  “Of course I feel guilty. But I wouldn’t saddle myself with a wife or even consider having kids just because I think I failed her.”

  “I hope not,” Raina said.

  He glanced at his mother, a woman on the verge of getting her first blood-related grandchild and saw a glimmer of hope in his dim future. “If you mean that, put your matchmaking skills to work and help me get Sloane back,” Chase said to Raina, picking up on the idea he’d had the other day.

  “I can’t.” Raina glanced down at her hands, obviously unable to meet Chase’s stare.

  “Why the hell not?” he asked in shock. “You’ve spent how many years playing matchmaker against our will? And now when I’m asking … no, begging you to help me out, you’re saying no?”

  She nodded, eyes still lowered. “That’s right. I’ve learned my lesson. I’m getting married and I’m going to have a life of my own.”

  From the doorway came the sound of applause. Eric clapped, obviously proud of Raina and her new leaf. “I just wanted to let you know, Charlotte’s doctor said it shouldn’t be much longer.”

  Raina glanced at Eric, and her cheeks glowed. Chase’s gaze traveled between Kendall and Rick, and he witnessed the same adoration. Goddamned envy consumed him. Yeah, he was happy for his mother and siblings, but his entire family possessed what he desired. With Sloane. And he’d struck out.

  He turned back to his mother. “Can’t you learn this lesson after you help me?”

  “I’m sorry, son, but she’s out of the matchmaking business. And as soon as I get my ring on her finger, where it belongs, I’m going to keep her too busy to meddle. That much I can promise all of you.” With a wave, Eric took off for the delivery room once more, the only person with access other than Roman, who wouldn’t leave his wife’s side.

  “Shit,” Chase muttered.

  “Would you watch your language?” Kendall asked, placing her hands over her sister’s ears.

  Hannah laughed. “Like I don’t hear worse in school?”

  “Look, Rick’s got a point,” Kendall told Chase. “I’ve stayed out of this so far, but I’m female and that gives me some wisdom. Add to that, I’ve dealt with a Chandler man who possesses a white-knight complex. I’m more than equipped to give you a few pointers.” She tucked her hair behind her ears and watched him, waiting for permission.

  Chase let out another groan. “Might as well give it a shot. Everyone else has.”

  “That’s gratitude for you,” Rick said.

  Kendall ignored him, focusing on Chase. “As much as I hate to admit this, Rick’s right. If you love Sloane, and I believe you do or you wouldn’t be so miserable, you’re going to have to convince her you’ve changed.”

  “And how do I do that?” he asked Kendall, needing this advice more than he needed his next breath.

  Before she could reply, Eric came in to announce to the family that another Chandler had been born. Lilly Chandler, a healthy five-pound, eight-ounce, eighteen-inch baby girl, had come into the world. And Roman, who’d witnessed battlefields and wars up close and personal, had nearly passed out, needing a paper bag and coaching by Eric to resuscitate him.

  While the rest of the family headed for the glass doors of the nursery to wait for their first glimpse of the baby, Kendall pulled Chase aside.

  “You gave me advice once. I just want to return the favor.” She smiled at him, accepting him for who and what he was.

  “I’d appreciate it.”

  She placed a hand on his arm. “Look inside yourself and see what made you the man you were. The man who didn’t want a family. Then figure out why you suddenly do. When you can explain it to yourself, you can pass that wisdom on to Sloane. That’s all she’ll need to believe.” She shrugged as if it were simple.

  But why didn’t it feel that way?

  * * *

  Sloane had been in Yorkshire Falls for only a brief time, yet she missed both the town and the people. At home in her Georgetown walk-up, she dressed for her first day back at work with a shirt that let her cater to her bandaged arm, and a determined attitude of renewal.

  When she’d taken time off, she’d closed down her small store-front office from which she ran her interior-design business and called her most immediate clients to explain she’d had a family emergency. Though many of her existing clients were antsy, there were none who couldn’t be soothed with an apology and a rescheduled appointment. This morning, she had a list of phone calls to make, consisting of basic things ranging from overdue furniture deliveries to scheduling a pickup on a wall unit a client decided she wasn’t happy with, after all. Easy enough, Sloane thought.

  She was a people person, something she’d probably learned—she could no longer say inherited—from Michael. Meeting with her clients while trying to combine their needs with her vision normally gave her a great deal of satisfaction. But since her trip to Chase’s hometown, everything here felt bland. Dull. Lifeless.

  She tapped the pen on the desktop, reminding herself she lived in Washington, D.C., the nation’s capital. A swinging town at night and a bustling city during the day. So why did the sleepy upstate New York town and its eclectic citizens draw her so? Or was it just Chase who pulled at her like a magnet? She missed him so bad, she ached.

  Shake it off, Sloane. Life goes on, she reminded herself harshly. She’d let him go so that he could experience the rich life he’d envisioned, the one of a single man who found ultimate success as a journalist. A life no longer tied to family or obligation. She’d never have forgiven herself if she’d accepted his words of love and tied him to a future, only to see regret and longing in his eyes later on.

  The jingling of bells signaled she had a visitor and Sloane glanced up.

  Her friend Annelise walked in the door, two cups of Starbucks coffee in hand and a scowl on her lips. “Well, well, well, look who came home.” Annelise handed Sloane a grande-size cup. “What kind of friend disappears without a word? Doesn’t call? Leaves me to worry?” She sat down, coffee in hand. “I called Madeline and she said you were taking some breathing room,” Annelise said, her voice rising. “Wouldn’t a real friend know if you needed breathing room?” Her pout was as real as her concern.

  Sloane’s guilt rose to the surface and she winced. “I’m so sorry.” From the moment she’d overheard Robert and Frank admit Michael wasn’t her father, forcing her to find solace in Chase, Sloane had been single-minded in her pursuit of Samson. And protective of her time with Chase Chandler. All at the expense of her job, her friends, her life.

  Yet here she was, back home, engrossed in work, being berated by a concerned friend, and all Sloane could think of was the people she’d left behind. This life no longer felt like hers. In fact, she hadn’t thought about it once since she’d taken off for Yorkshire Falls.

  Annelise rapped on Sloane’s desk with her knuckles. “You’re not paying attention to anything I’ve been saying.”

  Her friend deserved better. “Annelise, I really am sorry,” Sloane said. “I’ve just been through a major life crisis and … I guess I had to do it alone.” She expelled a long breath. “I’m still coming to terms with some changes.”

  “I know.” Reaching for her cell, Annelise pulled up the article Sloane had avoided, not wanting to know when her lif
e became public and she’d lost Chase to success.

  Annelise pushed the phone’s screen in front of Sloane. “Michael Carlisle’s not your real father; some man named Samson is. And what a scandalous history is involved in that story,” she said, but her voice had softened, no hint of anger in her tone. “I had to read about it in the paper. I wish you’d felt you could confide in me.” She sounded more hurt than angry.

  Sloane read the headlines. FATHER FRAUD OR FATHER FIGURE? SENATOR MICHAEL CARLISLE REVEALS HIDDEN FAMILY SKELETONS. “Ugh,” she muttered. But as she scanned the contents of the article, she read not just an unbiased accounting of the facts, but a rosy picture of the life Sloane had led and the reasons behind it, no dirt heaped on the senator or his character.

  And that, Sloane realized, was because the author was Chase Chandler, the article having been picked up by the major newspapers, the Washington Post included. Headlines and innuendos weren’t of his choosing, she was sure. Pride swelled inside of Sloane as she accepted he was living his dream at last.

  He’d broken the story of Michael’s secrets, Sloane’s parentage, and her shooting in a way that dignified everyone involved, including Samson. She chuckled, imagining how difficult Chase had found that particular task. Still, the story was out now, she thought, and said a silent prayer that Michael’s career hadn’t suffered because of decisions he’d made in the past.

  Slowly she met her friend’s gaze. “It’s been a wild ride,” she admitted, patting her shoulder softly. “Sometimes a dangerous one.”

  Annelise nodded. “And I can see how something like this would send you reeling.”

  Sloane sighed. “That’s an understatement. I’m not sure I could have shared or explained this to anyone. I’m glad it’s all public now.” She spread her hands in front of her. “And thank you for understanding.”

  Annelise nodded. “I’m your friend, Sloane. And that means I’m available for discussion. If you ever decide you want to talk about this guy you’re mooning over, I’m here.”

  “What makes you think I’m mooning over a guy?” Sloane asked after pausing to join her friend for a sip of coffee. The drink was too sweet and she grimaced. “Am I that readable?”

  “You sure are. Your emotions are plastered across your face. You’re miserable and it isn’t family issues bothering you, and before you ask how I know … Well, I can just tell.” Annelise leaned forward, her elbow brushing fabric swatches laid out on the table. “By the way, I like this pattern.”

  “It’s called a trellis.” Like some of the hangings on Norman’s bird-filled walls, Sloane thought.

  And that was another weird thing. The little hole-in-the-wall diner with no real sense of style appealed to Sloane far more than the places she frequented in D.C. The ones who paid the finest decorators to create an atmosphere customers would want to return to. Sloane missed the tacky birds.

  “Okay, your body may be here, but you are still lost in thought.” Annelise picked up her purse. “Call me when you want to talk, okay?”

  Sloane nodded. “Will do. And thanks again.”

  Long after Annelise walked out the door, Sloane forced herself to work her way down the list of phone calls, accomplishing some things and crossing them off her list, and leaving messages on others, with follow-up notes on her pad.

  By the time her cell phone rang, she was ready for any distraction that wasn’t decorating related. “Hello?”

  “Hi, sweetie.”

  Madeline’s voice came through over the phone and Sloane was so happy to talk to her with no secrets, no problems between them. “Hi, Mom. Where are you?”

  “In the mall, taking your sisters shopping. Or actually, chauffeuring your sisters while I pick up a few things myself. I just wanted to hear your voice, so I thought I’d call.” Madeline laughed, but the shakiness was obvious.

  A brush with death would do that to even the strongest person, Sloane thought. “I’m fine,” she assured Madeline, even though her stepmother hadn’t asked. Madeline wouldn’t want her to know she was still worried. “I’m trying to get back into the swing of things at work.”

  “And are you?”

  “No.” Sloane laughed. “Not in the least.”

  “Then come visit. I still have those letters of Jacqueline’s I promised to show you, and of course your sisters want to see for themselves that you’re okay. Hold on.”

  Sloane heard some static and then Madeline’s voice. “Girls, bare backs are fine, but that much cleavage is not. Different dresses,” she ordered.

  Sloane chuckled. “Christmas fund-raiser?” Sloane asked knowingly. She’d attended enough of those to figure out what the twins were shopping for.

  “Of course,” Madeline said. “And you can’t imagine the slinky getups Eden and Dawne just tried to get me to agree to let them wear.”

  Sloane rolled her eyes. “They figured you were distracted and would just nod. Then when you yelled at home later, they could blame you.”

  “Exactly. Now, would you come home? We can discuss your attending that fund-raiser then. There are many new men I can introduce you to who’ll help you get over what’s-his-name in no time,” Madeline said.

  Sloane stiffened in her seat. “His name is Chase Chandler, which you very well know.” Chase was unforgettable.

  He’d never lied to her, never given her less than what he’d promised, and had always delivered more. She loved him even more for that.

  “I know his name, honey. I just wasn’t sure how you were feeling about him these days.”

  Great, Sloane thought. Patronized by her own mother. “We’re better off not going there. It wouldn’t do any good.”

  “Did you know Charlotte had her baby?” Madeline asked softly. “A little girl?”

  Sloane shook her head. No, she hadn’t known. She’d missed the occasion, missed seeing Chase’s expression when he saw his niece for the first time. And she’d missed it all because she’d let him go. He’d offered her a future and she didn’t trust that it was what he really wanted.

  Had she been wrong, after all?

  “Sloane? Are you there?”

  She wiped a tear that began dripping down her cheek. “I’m here. And no, I didn’t know about Charlotte.” She swallowed over the lump in her throat. “I’ll have to send a gift.”

  “I’m sorry, honey.”

  “Yeah. Me too.” She gripped her phone harder in her hand.

  “Come home and let me take care of you. I thought you should take a few more days off to recuperate anyway.”

  Sloane smiled, suddenly finding the thought of Madeline’s care and her sisters’ chatter appealing. But the notion of Yorkshire Falls was even more inviting. “Let me think about it, okay?”

  “No, it’s not okay. Either you call for a flight or I’ll schedule one for you. I don’t want you alone. You still need family around you.”

  Sloane groaned. “You’re determined. But it wouldn’t work unless I wanted to come. I’ll call and schedule a flight. I can be home tonight.” And in Yorkshire Falls tomorrow, if she chose to be.

  “We’re not going to be home tonight. Your father and I have plans and your sisters are sleeping at a friend’s house, but you have the key, right?”

  “Yes.” She jangled the key chain that held all her keys. “I’ll just see you in the morning.”

  “Wonderful! Don’t forget to text your flight information so I have it,” Madeline instructed. “Well, I have to go. The girls are coming back with armloads of dresses. Let me go weed out the trashy from the trashier. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Sloane hung up, feeling better than she had since leaving Yorkshire Falls. Tomorrow she’d be home with her family. Okay, so it wasn’t the same as being with Chase, but it was a start.

  * * *

  Sloane stepped off the plane and walked down the runway. Albany Airport wasn’t busy, and since she had only a carry-on bag, she walked straight outside to grab a taxicab. A cold wind whipped through the night air and she shivered.r />
  Before she could wind her way through to the taxi line, a dark truck pulled up beside her, passenger window open. “Need a lift?”

  Sloane recognized Chase’s deep, rumbling voice and her stomach flipped over in surprise. “How’d you find me?”

  “Madeline called and said you needed a ride home from the airport.”

  Sloane narrowed her gaze. “That matchmaking, lying, sneaky—”

  “Those used to be my sentiments exactly, back when my mother used to exercise her skills. But that was before you came along.” He laughed. “Come on and get in. It’s freezing outside.”

  Without waiting for a reply, he opened his door and stepped into the street. Ignoring her protests and questions, he walked around to put her suitcase into the back of the truck.

  Sloane rubbed her now free hand over her shoulder and eyed him warily. She could take a taxi anyway, but he’d driven half an hour to the airport to pick her up, and Yorkshire Falls was in the opposite direction from her parents’ house, so he’d gone out of his way. Just to see her.

  And it was so good to see him. Even if Madeline had obviously set her up. But why had Chase been willing to go along? She wouldn’t get answers unless she joined him, so when he opened the door, she slid inside without hesitation.

  The heat blasted around her, warming her from the outside in.

  When he settled into the driver’s side, the temperature in the truck spiraled upward. His darkened gaze met hers, telling her he felt that instant connection too. Warning herself to tread carefully, she shifted in her seat, trying to think of neutral conversation.

  “How’s the shoulder?” he asked as he pulled onto the road leading out of the airport.

  She leaned her head back against the seat. “It still hurts some. I’m down to taking Tylenol only.”

  “I’m glad.”

  She wasn’t ready to tackle anything about them, so she went for the obvious choice. “I heard from Madeline that Charlotte had her baby.”