One More Chance: A Secret Baby Second Chance Romance

by Amy Brent

  “How’s your mother doing, sweetheart?”

  “I’m sure she’s doing fine. Why do you ask?”

  “If I may be so blunt, she kind of has a problem with the drink.”

  I kept my smirk at bay as I put my hand on Mrs. Hinglebottom’s knee.

  “Between you and me, we’ve done all we can for her. I know she has a problem, and so does my father. But she doesn't want the help. She’s happy the way she is, and she won’t change unless she wants to. I hope one day she does, but we can only control her so much.”

  “You’re a good man, Tyler. I still regret not trying to marry my daughter off to you.”

  “I’m sure she’s happy with Franklin,” I said.

  “They’re the happiest. So, I suppose that is a good thing. He’s a bit of a wimp, though. She definitely wears the pants in that marriage.”

  “Kelsey has always been a bit abrasive. It sounds like she’s met her perfect match.”

  “You know they’re expecting a little one in the fall.”

  “No kidding! So you’ll have another addition to your family soon.”

  “A little boy. I think they’ve decided to name him Tyler.”

  “And that’s not weird,” I said, chuckling.

  “Tyler was my husband’s middle name. Don’t get too cocky.”

  “How can I not when I’ve got a woman like you flirting with me?”

  Just as I smiled at Mrs. Hinglebottom, I heard a loud crash in the kitchen. I shot up from the couch and dashed in, sliding the doors closed behind me before people could get a glimpse. I knew what had happened. Though I didn’t yet know the specifics, I knew this was my mother’s opus for the evening.

  “Son of a bitch!” she exclaimed.

  “Come here, Mom. I’ve got—”

  I turned around and saw her bleeding from her palms. I rushed to her side while my father stood at the door, sipping on what looked like scotch. Whatever it was, he sure as hell wasn’t helping me with Mom.

  And that pissed me off.

  “Can you at least be a little useful and get me a first aid kit?” I asked.

  I helped Mom over to the sink and turned the water on. I plucked a small shard of glass from her hand as the kit landed on the counter beside me. Nonchalance. Not exactly the type of mood necessary for the situation. I cleaned my mother up and got her bandaged. Then I sat her down at the kitchen table while I swept up the bloodied glass.

  “I need another drink,” she slurred.

  “What you need is water and some sleep,” I said.

  “I haven’t finished my wine.”

  “You’ve finished all you’re going to finish tonight. Now come on. I’m taking you upstairs.”

  She fought me as best as she could, but I threw her over my shoulder and stormed out of the kitchen. I carried her upstairs and flopped her down on her bed, watching as she slid under the covers. I dug out some Tylenol and found a plastic cup to fill with water and put on her bedside table.

  She was snoring by the time I turned off the light and closed the door.

  I avoided my father the rest of the evening. I handed out cards to people who seemed interested, going through the hundred I’d come with. I even walked away with Richard’s information and a meeting scheduled to sit down and discuss an issue he was having. I felt good about the networking I had done, and the only thing left was to get out of there without running into my father.

  I should have known it wouldn’t have happened.

  “Heading out already, Son?”

  I slowly turned toward him and locked my eyes on his.

  “I don’t know what the hell is wrong with you, but something needs to give with Mom.”

  “What did you say?” he asked.

  “You are not only enabling her drinking, but she hurt herself on that kitchen floor and you didn’t even give a shit.”

  “How can I give a shit if she doesn’t give a shit?”

  “She was bleeding, Dad! Bleeding from her hands. I bandaged her up as best as I could, but she’s still going to need a doctor. I think her left hand needs stitches.”

  “Not my fault she can’t hold her alcohol.”

  “But is it your fault that she can still access it in this house.”

  “Your mother’s a grown woman. She’s made her decision. I told her that whatever consequences came of her actions while drunk were hers and hers alone to deal with.”

  “So if she had pierced her jugular or slit her thigh open, you would've let her bleed out on the floor?”

  “Don’t you raise your voice at me,” he said.

  “Then don’t give me a reason to.”

  I drew in a deep breath before I opened the front door and walked out to my car. I had been around my parents as much as I could. My mother would be the talk of the town yet again, and my father would wash his hands of it like always. The only thing I could hope for was that I’d snagged a client or two out of it.

  And with the way people had responded to me, I had a good feeling about it—even if they’d only come to see the display of idiocy my parents always brought to the table.

  Ana

  “Miss Price, we really enjoy your designs. And we really do feel that it’s a shame they can only be found in your store.”

  “It does give my store the edge, however.”

  “That it does. But, this meeting is to discuss the possibility of eliminating that edge so we can sell some of your designs in our stores as well.”

  When the executive board of Bloomingdale’s got in touch with me, I had thought someone was pulling a prank. I had thought it was Kristi pretending to be someone or Tyler pulling an asinine joke to get my attention. But when I scheduled the Tuesday morning meeting and dropped Brody off with my parents, I started convincing myself that it might not have been a trick.

  Now I knew it wasn’t.

  “It would be an honor to discuss something like that,” I said.

  “Good. We had a scout come into your store the other day, and he made mention of some designs he really enjoyed.”

  “Jacques. I remember him.”

  “You knew who our scout was?”

  I grinned at the woman who touted herself as the head of design for Bloomingdale’s.

  “Wouldn’t you know a scout when you saw them?” I asked.

  “Fair enough,” she said, grinning.

  “Which designs did he like?”

  She turned a small list around for me to see, and I looked it over. Most of them were my dresses and a few pairs of my boots, which didn’t shock me at all. Those were some of my highest-selling pieces, and I smiled as I pushed the ledger back over to her. I had to play this right and not seem too eager. After all, I was doing just fine on my own. Though something like this could be huge for me and my career, I couldn’t let them know that they held the future of my brand in their hands.

  It gave them too much negotiating power.

  “What are you looking to do? Who are you looking to market to?” I asked.

  “Our vision is summer for the busy woman. All these other stores sell bikinis and flip-flops and all sorts of skimpy wear for women during the summer. Almost nothing is tailored to the woman who still works. I mean, a working woman wants to be fashionable even though it’s eighty-five degrees outside and she’s sweating down her thighs.”

  The two men at her side grimaced, and I quirked an eyebrow.

  “Got an issue with a woman sweating, boys?” I asked.

  “They have an issue with a lot of things. Ignore them.”

  “With all due respect, ignoring men when they react like that is exactly what fuels the behavior. Gentlemen, allow me to educate you on a woman’s body. We grow body hair on our legs, under our arms, and between our legs. We also eat, pass gas, go to the bathroom, and sweat—just like you do.”

  The woman across the table from me grinned as the guys fidgeted uncomfortably in their seats.

  “Any questions?” I asked.

  “Only one,” the
woman said.

  “Then hit me with it.”

  “When can we start collaborating?”

  I walked out of that meeting with several others booked to meet with different people. I was officially one step closer to closing a deal with fucking Bloomingdale’s for my own line of clothes! I was on cloud nine. Nothing could spoil my day. Nothing could wipe my smile from my face.

  Until Tyler called.

  As I got into my car, I thought about ignoring it. But something in the pit of my gut told me not to do that. I answered the phone call and pressed it to my ear, then drew in a deep breath to prepare myself.

  “Hey there, Tyler. Everything okay?”

  “How did you know?”

  The defeated sound of his voice made my heart hurt. I knew why he was calling. The entire town was already talking about it.

  “What do you need?” I asked.

  “Could we get together over lunch? I really need to talk.”

  “Of course we can. Where would you like to meet?”

  “Wherever’s closest to you. I don’t really care.”

  “I’m staring at Gianno’s.”

  “I’ll be there in twenty.”

  I drove down the block and parked. After going inside, I got us a booth in the back, hoping no one would hear the conversation we were about to have. Or see us for that matter. The last thing I needed was anyone putting two and two together, then spreading things around town that didn’t need to be spread.

  Like how Brody looked shockingly like Tyler.

  “Thanks for meeting me,” Tyler said.

  He looked so defeated when he sat down, and my heart went out to him.

  “I ordered us a glass of white wine with some chips and dip to start.”

  “Thanks,” he said breathlessly.

  “So, what’s going on?”

  “My mother pulled another one of her stunts again. At a party thrown for me to network for my new business no less.”

  “What happened?”

  “She stumbled and fell in the kitchen and dropped her wine glass. It shattered everywhere and she cut herself pretty badly.”

  “Wait, what? I didn’t know she—never mind.”

  Our wine and appetizer were set on the table as Tyler’s eyes connected with mine.

  “Ana, what did you hear?”

  Silence.

  “Come on, out with it.”

  “I may or may not have heard something from my mother about it this morning,” I said.

  “Of course you did. What did she have to say?”

  “All she said was that your mother got so drunk you had to toss her over your shoulder and carry her up to bed. But I didn’t know she was hurt. Is she okay?”

  “No, she’s not okay. She’s a drunk and my father doesn’t give a shit about it.”

  “I meant physically, Tyler. Come on.”

  “Were you even going to tell me you knew?”

  “Not when you needed to vent about it, no,” I said.

  He sat back in his chair and gnawed on his lower lip. I felt bad for him. I really did. I knew his mother and all the shit she kicked up was one of the reasons he’d been so excited to leave for college. It had always been that way with her, and it had apparently gotten worse over time.

  If I had to be really honest, his mother was part of the reason I didn’t want to tell him about Brody. I didn’t want her around my son, and I knew Tyler was so desperate to have a relationship with his mother that he might try to use her only grandchild as a means to an end.

  And that wasn’t happening with my son.

  “I didn’t mean to upset you, but you know me. You know I don’t judge you for your parents’ actions. It pisses me off that your father is still sitting back and chilling like it’s nothing, but you carrying her upstairs and putting her in bed? It shows me the kind of man you are and how much you really do love her.”

  “I don’t get why she won’t take help, Ana. It’s insane. I’ve offered to pay for her rehab. I’ve staged two different interventions with her. Nothing works.”

  “If she doesn't think she has a problem, she won’t attempt to fix it.”

  “Why not? Why can’t she see she has an issue?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t have any of those answers. But what you need to understand is that you can’t fix her, either.”

  “Why won’t she get sober for me?” he asked.

  I reached over and took his hand as our appetizer grew cold.

  “You know it doesn’t work that way, Tyler.”

  “I thought if I came back, she’d be better. Or at the very least she’d let me help. But she fought me every step of the way, from cleaning her up to getting her to bed. And do you know what my father had to say about it?”

  “What?” I asked.

  “That the consequences of her actions while drunk aren’t his issue.”

  “He said that?”

  “To my face.”

  I rubbed my thumb along his skin, trying to comfort him as best as I could.

  “Do you want to order food?” I asked.

  “I’m not really hungry. But you can order something. It’s on me.”

  “Nope. Not this time. Today I’m picking up the tab. So order something, even if you get it to go. You always get hungry later.”

  “You know me better than anyone. You know that?”

  It was the tone of his voice that made me pause. I was so scared he was going to bring up what he had said during our date, what he had admitted to me before we lost ourselves in one another. Instead, he pulled away and picked up his menu to figure out what he wanted. I was relieved he didn’t say a word about it, but a small part of me wondered why he didn’t bring it up.

  Had he not meant it? Did he regret saying it?

  “What are you getting?” Tyler asked.

  “You know what I always get from here.”

  “Eggplant parmesan with grilled chicken on the side?”

  “That’s it.”

  “You know that defeats the purpose of eggplant parmesan.”

  “I like them both. Why can’t I have them both?”

  He grinned at me and shook his head before he put his menu down.

  “Let me guess. Lasagna with extra meat sauce poured over it and a fresh slab of mozzarella to melt over the top.”

  “Nope,” he said.

  “No? But you always get that.”

  “Today I’m trying something different.”

  “Oooh, changing it up a bit. How exciting. What are you getting?”

  “I’m leaving off the mozzarella.”

  I laughed at him as a smile crossed his face. It was nice to see him smile, especially after the debacle that had happened with his mother the other day. We sat and ate, and I shook my head when he began to inhale his food. I had known he would get hungry the second that food was set in front of him.

  Brody was the same way. Every time Brody got upset, he was never hungry until he saw food.

  Then it was game on.

  “Are you sure you don’t want me to pick this up?”

  “Yes, I’m sure,” I said as I slipped my card into the check folder.

  “It’s really not an issue.”

  “Tyler, stop. I’m paying for this lunch. You needed to get out and talk, so I’m covering it.”

  “I appreciate it, Ana, but it isn’t necessary.”

  “And neither was walking ne to my door.”

  “But you didn’t let me walk you to your door. Does that mean I really shouldn't let you pay?” The grin that slid across his cheeks made my eyes narrow.

  “What did you do?” I asked.

  “Ma’am?”

  I looked up at the waiter who had appeared. “Yes?”

  “Your card isn’t necessary. This is just a copy of the check rendered.”

  “What?”

  “You’re still not very observant, are you?” Tyler asked.

  I flipped the check folder open and saw there was no total due. The bi
ll had somehow already been paid. My eyes flickered up to him as a full-blown smile crossed his cheeks.

  I sighed. “You’re insane. You know that?”

  “I knew you’d try to pay because I called and wanted someone to talk to. It isn’t necessary. Just like you don’t need me walking you to your front door, I don’t need you paying for my meals.”

  “You’re insane.”

  “And you’re welcome for lunch.”

  “I’m getting you back. You know that, right?”

  I slid my card back into my wallet as Tyler got up and held his hand out for me.

  “I’m counting on it,” he said.

  Then, without a second thought, I slid my hand into his and we walked out of the restaurant with our fingers intertwined.

  Tyler

  “Uh huh. Of course. Thank you, Mrs. Gloria. I’ll be sure to let her know you’re thinking of her. Of course. You can call me anytime. Yes, I can send you a paper bill, or I can bill you to your email. It doesn't matter to me. All right. I’ll make sure I note that. Yes. Because I’m on retainer you can contact me at any time, day or night. Yep, even on vacations. Wonderful. I’ll make a note of it. We’ll talk soon. Bye.”

  I set my phone on the receiver with a massive smile on my face. I had officially opened my practice three days ago and I already had four potential client meetings, two clients who had procured my services on a retainer basis, and a whopping seven clients who had already paid me upfront to get started on things they needed help with.

  As I stared at my calendar, I shook my head. If I took on any more people, I’d have to hire another lawyer to help out—which I fully intended to do. I wanted to fill the four floors I currently rented with a lawyer on each level. But I hadn’t expected to have to do it so soon.

  Things were really coming along, and I almost forgot about the issues with my family for a while.

  Almost.

  My desk phone rang again, and I chuckled. If this was another potential client and I nailed them, my next emergency was to find a part-time defense lawyer to help me out with this stuff. I picked up the phone and drew in a deep breath, then put on my most professional voice.

  “This is Tyler Browning.”