Take a Chance

by Shelley Shepard Gray

  “I started realizing that we’ve got ourselves a conflict of interest. On account of the fact that you are Sam’s English teacher.”

  “So we’re breaking up because of Sam?” She thought back to yesterday’s tutoring session with Sam. She’d thought it went all right. At first he’d acted embarrassed to be there, but after she’d shared her plan, he’d perked right up.

  At least, she thought he had. “Did Sam say something to you about yesterday’s tutoring? Did I upset him somehow?”

  “No, it ain’t that at all. It’s the fact that the lines between us all are getting crossed.”

  “Kurt, um, you may have forgotten this, but even if me teaching him was a problem—which it isn’t—I won’t be his teacher next semester.”

  Some of the lines in his cheeks eased. “Shoot, you know I had forgotten that. So we won’t have to wait that long. We can start up again in January.”

  She remembered Campbell once telling her about a guy her sister dated who never kept a girlfriend around the holidays because he didn’t want to buy a Christmas gift or take her to office parties. If she didn’t know better, she would wonder if something like that was going on.

  Except he seemed so sincere about it.

  Making a decision, she stepped around her coffee table and took a seat next to him on the couch. “Kurt, talk to me. I don’t understand why you suddenly think this is a problem. What’s changed?”

  “Sam had a … well, an altercation with Garrett Condon a couple of days ago. Garrett mentioned that I slugged his dad.”

  “And let me guess, Sam wasn’t real happy about that.”

  “No. He actually had some choice words for me, threw quite a few of them back in my face.”

  “I think teenagers are pros at saying hurtful things from time to time, Kurt. Sam is smart, but he’s still only seventeen.”

  “Yeah, I know. But, well, there’s something else he brought up that got me thinking. Sam mentioned that Garrett and his parents have started telling people that Sam’s been getting special treatment because I’m, ah, seeing you.”

  “It’s sweet you care about my reputation, but it doesn’t really matter what Garrett or his father thinks. We know what’s true.” When his expression didn’t ease, she added, “Believe it or not, I’ve already mentioned our dating to Terry Hendrix.”

  Looking alarmed, Kurt straightened. “You talked about us to your principal?”

  She nodded. “He didn’t act like the news was fantastic, but he agreed with me, that me dating a student’s older brother wasn’t anything to be concerned about. Especially since it’s our private business.”

  “But see, that’s the thing. Bridgeport is small enough that anything we do isn’t going to be all that private. People are going to see us together.”

  “I appreciate you looking out for me and my reputation, but I’m fine.”

  “For now. But you know how rumors are spread.”

  Emily studied him. Looked at his rigid posture. The hard set of his jaw. The resolution in his eyes. He’d come over to break things off, not discuss their future.

  He didn’t want to hear her arguments or try to make things work. It seemed he had an answer for everything. He didn’t come over to talk things through with her. He came over to inform her about his decision.

  Which really kind of ticked her off and made her sad at the same time.

  She stood up. “I think I understand now. Thank you for coming over to tell me in person.”

  He scowled. “It wasn’t like I was going to text you or something. I don’t want to not see you, but I’m trying to do the right thing here.”

  “I understand.” Though she actually didn’t.

  He got to his feet. “Emily, this isn’t easy for me.”

  Maybe it wasn’t. But she sure knew what was happening wasn’t easy for her to hear. “Goodbye, Kurt.”

  His dark blue eyes looked stormy, almost silver as he got to his feet. But that was surely her imagination. “I’ll give you a call in January.”

  “You’d better not. I’m not going to be available.”

  He paused, then kept walking.

  She stood there, her back to him as he opened and then shut her door behind him.

  When she was finally alone she sank back down in her favorite comfy chair. Then she curved her hand in as tight of a fist as she could and hit the cushion.

  Why did everything have to be so hard? She’d finally found a guy who was everything she’d ever hoped he would be. He was handsome and hardworking. Had a job. He treated her with kindness. He’d moved his whole life to another state so his little brother could have a future he’d never had.

  He’d befriended her brother and her brother-in-law. She’d thought he was darn near perfect.

  And then, what did he go and do? He broke up with her the moment things got difficult.

  He broke her heart and walked away.

  Huh. Turned out he wasn’t perfect after all.

  CHAPTER 23

  FROM LES LARKE’S

  TIPS FOR BEGINNING POKER PLAYERS:

  Don’t stay in a hand just because you’re already in it. Sometimes it’s better to cut your losses and walk away … even though it might hurt at the time.

  Driving down Broadway, Kurt barely noticed anything but his pain.

  He’d known cutting things off with Emily was going to hurt but he hadn’t counted on it hurting so bad. He felt like crap. Like he was that guy in the news who had cut off his own arm in order to free himself.

  Okay, maybe that wasn’t the right analogy. That guy had desperately wanted to live. Him? Well, maybe he was just running scared.

  He felt like he had been thrown headfirst into the deep end of the pool and he was trying to tread water while keeping his little brother afloat.

  Realizing he had once again compared his situation to some life or death scenario, he cursed. He needed to man up and stop feeling sorry for himself. Sooner or later he was going to have to call Ace and tell him to drive up to Bridgeport to kick his ass.

  Parking in the drive outside his garage, he eyed the front door. He knew what he needed to do. That was go sit in front of his computer for the next two hours and work on statements and entering in the day’s jobs.

  But given his current mood, he knew he’d likely make mistakes that he’d have to spend twice as much time fixing tomorrow or he would get so stressed out about the business all his doubts would set in again.

  He couldn’t do it.

  That left only one other idea.

  Pushing the remote on his garage door, he walked inside and turned on the light. The room was pretty much the same way he’d left it after the last poker game. Neatly swept, though now covered with a fine layer of dust.

  A large table with six chairs was in the middle. To one side of the garage, an old table he’d found discarded on a neighbor’s driveway held piles of poker chips. Two decks of cards lay next to them, one unopened. Underneath the table was what used to be his pride and joy—a Yeti cooler that a couple of his cousins had gone in on together to buy him for high school graduation. They’d given it to him with big smiles, grinning even wider when he’d opened it to find a layer of Dr. Pepper, and underneath that a twelve-pack of Corona.

  His father had looked at that cooler and shaken his head, saying it was a giant waste of money. But to Kurt it had symbolized freedom and more than one dream—that one day he was going to have a couple of things that meant a lot to him. The chance to be his own boss. A house. A good truck. Friends to count on.

  What he’d hated to admit even back then was that he’d wanted more than what his father had ever been able to get—years of back-breaking work underground, followed by an early retirement alone.

  The thought made him feel ashamed that he couldn’t feel more pride in his father’s choices. He’d done the b
est he could. He’d surely done his best for him.

  Just like he was now trying to do his best for his little brother. It was just a crying shame that he was struggling so much with it.

  When his phone buzzed, signaling an incoming text, he almost thanked God. He needed to get out of this funk, and fast. It was his friend Troy.

  Hey. What you doing?

  Kurt shook his head. Troy was his one of his oldest friends. He was the reason Kurt had chosen Bridgeport instead of some other town to move Sam to. The guy had played ball with him and Ace in Spartan, but had been so talented that he’d earned himself a scholarship. He’d gone to college at Ohio University over in Athens, playing ball for them and studying accounting. Now he’d made a life for himself in Bridgeport and had a successful accounting firm.

  But even though he’d done all that, he still texted like a twelve-year-old.

  Taking a seat on one of the chairs, he texted back.

  Sitting in the garage. You?

  U playing poker?

  Nope. Sitting alone.

  He didn’t bother adding that it was eleven on a Saturday morning. Not too many guys were up for an early morning poker game. Reading his text again, Kurt hesitated before pressing send. His text sounded lame, but what did you do? It wasn’t like he had anything to prove to Troy.

  Want company?

  Sure. You alone?

  Nope. Jim and me just did 9. We’d B up for a game if U R

  Come over. I’ll see if I can find two more guys. But poker later @ 6

  K. We could eat first

  Shaking his head, Kurt’s thumb scanned his contacts and reached out to Brian, one of his new workers who was an all-around decent guy.

  Thinking about playing tonight. 6. You free?

  Ten minutes later Brian and one of his buddies said they’d be over around 5:30.

  Kurt smiled. He had a poker game. Walking in the house to change clothes, he passed Sam who was doing some texting of his own while eating what looked like the contents of half his refrigerator.

  He looked over at him. “What’s going on?”

  “I’ve got some guys coming over to play poker. You still going over to Kayla’s?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Great. Want to have dinner with Troy and me before you head over?”

  “Yeah. Sure.”

  When Kurt walked back to the garage, he thought about Emily’s brother Brenden and her brother-in-law, Chris. Though he figured that cooling things off with Em meant cooling things off with them, too, he wondered if the guys would feel the same. Maybe not. Poker was poker, right?

  Taking a chance, he went ahead and texted them about the game, too. It would be up to them to decide whether they wanted to come over again.

  CHAPTER 24

  FROM LES LARKE’S

  TIPS FOR BEGINNING POKER PLAYERS:

  You can’t bluff someone who’s not paying attention.

  Campbell wiped away a line of sweat from her forehead with one of her light pink towels. Then she frowned at Emily. “You know, most women like to go out after a breakup. They get dressed up, put on cute dresses and high heels, and flirt with men who buy them drinks. They don’t go to extra classes of hot yoga.”

  They’d just finished another hot yoga class and were standing in the back of the room trying to recover. It was their third class in five days and Emily didn’t blame her girlfriend one bit for complaining.

  Especially since she wasn’t sure if the extra workouts were helping her mood much.

  As she stuffed her own damp towel in her gym bag, she said, “Think about how much healthier this is. It’s cheaper, too.”

  “All I’m doing is thinking about how many extra showers I’m having to take a day. It’s getting pretty old.”

  “Maybe we’re losing weight?”

  “I doubt I am. I’ve been in so much pain, I’ve been single-handedly eating a pint of Graeter’s chocolate–chocolate chip ice cream every night when I get home.” Looking at Emily’s figure, she frowned. “Besides, you don’t need to lose anything. You never did. Actually, you’re looking kind of peaked, if you want to know the truth.”

  “Thanks for that.”

  “Only keeping it real, Em.”

  Since she was feeling kind of piqued, Emily didn’t bother arguing too much. The truth was that she had lost weight. Not a lot, but probably six or seven pounds. Enough to make her jeans feel loose.

  After draining her water bottle and gathering the last of her things, she asked, “You ready to get out of here?”

  “Yep.” Picking up her Vera Bradley tote, Campbell led the way, once again looking far too pretty for a girl who had just sweat out half her body weight.

  When they got outside, Campbell gestured to the mother and daughter who’d been working out next to them. They were gulping water and staring longingly at the door to El Fenix. “They’ve got the right idea. Want to grab some tacos?”

  Unlike Campbell, Emily both looked and smelled like a wet rat. “I can’t go inside like this.”

  Looking her over with a critical eye, Campbell grinned. “I think you are right about that. I know—I’ll go in, order, and when it’s ready, we’ll escape to your place and pig out.”

  “I’m not really hungry.” As much as she liked the idea of indulging in a Mexican feast, she just wanted to shower and watch mindless hours of TV until she could fall asleep.

  “Do you have wine at home?”

  “Of course.”

  “Then you’re set. We’ll drink some wine and eat tacos.”

  “While we’re all gross and sweaty.”

  “No, silly. You can let me use your shower.” She patted her tote. I have an extra pair of leggings and a T-shirt in here.”

  “Why am I getting the feeling that you planned for this?”

  “Because one of us needs to make plans. So what do you want? Your usual burrito?”

  Emily shook her head. She felt like trying something different this time. “No, get me some tacos. And some guacamole. And maybe some chips and salsa, too.”

  Campbell smiled. “I’m on it.” She disappeared into the restaurant, bold as brass.

  Emily wished she had even half the confidence that her cousin did at that moment.

  Two minutes later, she was wishing she had even that little bit back, because that would mean that she didn’t feel like sinking into the ground when Kurt Holland’s truck pulled up.

  She was staring at the back fender and wondering why she hadn’t run into the gym’s locker room and freshened up when both of the truck’s doors opened.

  “Miss Springer?” Sam called out.

  He sounded puzzled, like he wasn’t really sure it was her. She wasn’t surprised. She was pretty sure she looked like something out of The Walking Dead. “Hey, Sam.” Then, because she was an adult, she forced herself to lift her chin and meet Kurt’s eyes. “Hi, Kurt,” she said, just as she realized that her embarrassment wasn’t complete. He had another man with him, too. “Hi.”

  At least he looked as uncomfortable as she was. “Hey, Emily. Looks like you went to hot yoga again?”

  “Obviously.” After another tight smile she turned to Sam. “Going out for Mexican?”

  Sam looked from her to his brother. “Uh-huh. What are you doing?”

  “My girlfriend went inside to order. She’ll be out soon.” Please, God, let her be out soon.

  The other guy, who was tan, built like a quarterback, and had light blond—almost white—hair, stepped forward with his hand outstretched. “Hi. I’m Troy Gordon.”

  “Hi,” she said, shaking his hand. “I’m Emily Springer. Nice to meet you.”

  Troy looked from her to Kurt to Sam. “So, how do y’all know each other?”

  Kurt stepped forward. “Emily and I—”

  No way did s
he want Kurt talking about their nonexistent dating life. “I’m Sam’s English teacher.”

  Something new entered his eyes. “Good to know.”

  Kurt narrowed his eyes … just as Campbell flew out the door, somehow looking like she’d been out shopping instead of sweating. Even her fairy-princess hair was down and perfectly curled. “They said five minutes, Em. This was a great idea. Oh!”

  Immediately all three guys turned to her. Emily could practically see the appreciation in their eyes. “Campbell, this is Kurt, his brother, Sam, and their friend Troy. Guys, this is my best friend, Campbell.”

  “Hi.” She smiled at Sam. “You should probably call me Miss Weiss. I teach freshman math.”

  “Were you doing hot yoga, too?” Sam asked.

  She smiled. “I was.”

  “Campbell might be my best friend, but I often hate her,” Emily joked. “She has a freakish way of always looking good, even after exercising. It’s annoying.”

  Campbell looked down at herself and frowned. “Emily tends to exaggerate. I need to get cleaned up, and fast.”

  “I think you look fine,” Troy said. “More than fine.”

  Sam grinned down at his feet.

  Feeling Kurt’s gaze zeroed in on her, Emily said to Campbell, “You know what? I bet those five minutes are already up. I’ll go in and pay with you.”

  “There’s no need to do that. I’ve already paid.”

  “Camp …”

  “Don’t worry about it. It wasn’t a big deal. Besides you’re nursing a broken …” Her expression fell. “You know what? I’m going to go back in. I think our food’s done by now.”

  “I’ll go in with you,” Troy said. “Sam, want to cool off inside?”

  “Sure.” After a kind of half wave her way, Sam followed Troy and Campbell into the restaurant. Leaving her alone with Kurt.

  He leaned against his truck and folded his arms. “Nursing a broken what?”

  No, no, no. She was definitely not going there. “I don’t think we have anything to say to each other.”