by Lynn Rider
“I didn’t know you still talked to your aunt.”
I nod, realizing Martha was close enough to know about the fall out between my parents and my aunt. Donna was not shy in voicing her opinion about Audrey’s addiction. She blamed my parent’s for allowing it. Which in some cases, maybe they did turn a blind eye to the signs. They were only giving her the same freedoms they gave me. How could they have predicted one kid would go right and the other wrong?
“I know my parents weren’t a huge fan of her before their death, but she’s still my dad’s sister-in-law and even by marriage, she’s the only family we have.” When Martha’s face softens and her eyes drop to the desk, I know I’ve hurt her. Martha’s tried more times than I can count to embrace Audrey and me.
I’ve worked for her since she bought the studio after their death, but I’ve always kept her at arm’s length. So much like my mother, she’s a constant reminder of what I’ve lost. But feeling the sadness in my heart with saying goodbye, I realize trying to keep her away did me no good. “I’m sorry, Martha. I didn’t mean anything by that.” I swallow, wanting to tell her everything, but I can’t.
She flaps her hand in the air. “No need to apologize, honey. You sound like you’ve thought this out, especially if Audrey is already gone.”
I nod, nervously. “We have,” I lie.
She smiles softly, but I see the disappointment in her expression. “Selfishly speaking, I’m going to miss you. Professionally speaking, the student’s and I are all going to miss you. Is there anything I can do to change your mind?”
“No, we’re both excited to start over in a new city,” I lie again, this one tasting more like acid on my tongue than the one before it.
Ten minutes later I’m walking through the back alley toward the same side street where I’ve parked my car for the past two years. I told Martha I would work out a one-week notice, cutting extremely close to my deadline with Paul. As if she had some sort of sixth sense, she offered to shift some things around so I could get south sooner, on the condition I kept in touch. Part of me was relieved with her promise, but as I took one last look around the studio I love, the finality of it all had tears streaming down my face that I still can’t stop.
When I step from between the buildings, the cold wind freezes the warm lines of moisture caused by my falling tears. I tilt my head down, my long hair shielding me as I walk into a firm chest.
My apology falls into a gasp when I look up and into the cold dark eyes of Paul.
15
Chance
I tuck the large envelope under my arm as I make my way across the lobby of Edward’s fancy ass downtown office building. The security guard lands a watchful gaze on me as I stroll by, and as my luck would have it, stepping directly into an open elevator car.
Let’s hope that luck continues.
It’s nearing four o’clock, on a Friday afternoon. Not having heard a peep from him all day, I decided to skip another phone call and come here personally. The weight of the envelope under my arm gives me the perfect excuse.
When I reach his thirty-fifth-floor office, the young brunette receptionist surprises the hell out of me. Edward’s wife, Mary, has manned the front desk in the three years I’ve come here. The brunette looks up with my approach. The second her mind registers who I am or that she likes what she sees, her comfortable, relaxed demeanor is gone. Her spine straightens, shoulders square while poking her more than average tits out in front of her body like a badge of honor. That shit usually works, but with thoughts of Mia on my mind all day, this chick does nothing for me. The brunette’s pink lips inch into a slow seductive smile, but drop as I walk by, ignoring her efforts.
“He’s expecting me,” I lie, slipping through the double doors of Edward’s office.
“Jesus, Chance! You scared the shit out of me,” Edward says, looking up from the laptop perched on his desk. “Was Elena not out there to greet you?” Oh, she was out there all right…all smiles and tits.
“Mary let you hire someone that looks like her?” I point toward the door as I fall into the large leather wingback chair in front of his desk.
“I’m flattered you’d think someone like that, would want anything to do with someone like me, but Mary knows I wouldn’t even begin to know what to do with someone as young and energetic as Elena.” He chuckles.
“Have you heard anything?”
His chuckle stops, smile falls, and I know I’m not going to like what he has to say.
“I talked to the clerk and she was able to push the motion for visitation, but being Friday, the judges were already gone. It’s on Judge Barrett’s desk to be signed first thing Monday and then it will be served. Seeing as how we’re still not aware of any legal counsel, it’ll be served directly to Ms. Miller.”
I sit back in the large chair, feeling partially relieved, but still frustrated. “How long does she have before I can see the boys?”
“It’ll go out Monday. Depending on whether she’s easily found, your legal rights begin at that time, but don’t race in there taking those boys to wherever you damn well please. This only satisfies you have rights, but it’s still up to her to set the visitation schedule. She’s still holding the upper hand, Chance.”
“What about full custody? I want full custody, Edward.”
“I know you do,” he sighs again. “I already explained these things take time Chance. I’m calling in every favor I have and using your star power to get through as much of the red tape that usually occurs with these kinds of things.” He pauses, sitting back in his chair. “I also said it’s easier to do something the first time rather than undoing it. That’s what we’re essentially trying to do—undo what she’s done.”
“I’ll pour every dollar and minute of my life doing just that. Speaking of…” I toss the white envelope over his desk. “This endorsement contract came. I need you to look through it and make sure there’s nothing I need to be aware of. It’s probably the same shit: public appearances, photo shoot, wear their stuff, etcetera, etcetera, but this one’s a big one and I want to make sure I don’t fuck it up over a detail.”
Edward opens the envelope and slides the paperwork partially out of the sleeve. His bushy grey brows lift when he sees the dollar amount. “Damn, Chance, this is the best one yet and with one of the most celebrated sporting lines out there. Congratulations.” He slides the paperwork back into the envelope and lays it in an open briefcase on the corner of his desk. “I’ll review it over the weekend and we’ll talk again on Monday.”
I nod. “Thanks. I have a couple of other things I wanted to talk to you about.” He sits back in his chair. Its usual squeak of protest coming from underneath pauses my words momentarily. “What I say to you is confidential, right? Even if at some point, you’re not my attorney.” His bushy brows nit tightly, forming one long brow line and I lift my palms. “Like if I lost it all tomorrow and couldn’t afford you, you couldn’t repeat what we talk about,” I say questionably.
“That’s right, Chance. Attorney client privilege allows you to speak freely with me.”
I nod, pulling my phone from my pocket and recall the picture of Mia and me. “I want Bryson Maguire to wish he never stepped foot in that bar last night,” I say, handing it to Edward. Edward glances at the picture a bit longer than I like, but I tamp back my desire to snatch the phone away, realizing he’s the only one that can help.
“Please tell me the reason her top is hanging from your hand is that it fell off unexpectedly and you were merely saving her from a wardrobe malfunction? Because honestly, Chance, the first thing that comes to mind is that this isn’t good for your case against your aunt. If this picture gets out, beyond this stupid social media site, a few cigarettes and beer bottles are not going to be perceived as reckless as having your arms wrapped around a half-naked woman. Do you even know this woman?”
“Her name is Mia Hall. Before you turn red and start yelling, let me say Vic already lit into my ass this morning. I’ve heard ju
st about all of it already and I understand how it looks.”
“Okay, then explain what you want me to do?”
“I want this picture go away and I want Bryson Maguire to wish he’d had the good sense to not take it to begin with. I want him to pay, but not to me, to her.” I point down to phone.
“Okay, forward that picture to me.”
“There’s more,” I say.
“Jesus, you’re a bundle of legal work today, aren’t you?” He smiles.
“If I got married, would it help my case for the boys?”
“Chance, what in the hell?”
“If I found someone to marry me and we played the role of a happy, loving couple, would it help my case to show I was more stable?”
“Chance—”
“Look, there’s no question I can provide more material things for Matt and Brandon than Michelle, but my life is crazy and without the crazy, I can’t provide those things for them. Boxing is all I know. Right now, it’s all I have and honestly, I wouldn’t know what to do without it. I know I have a temper, but when I’m in that ring, I channel it and when I’m out, knowing I’m getting back in there gives me the focus and discipline I need to survive until I’m back between the ropes.”
“Do you have someone in mind or do you think that highly of yourself to solicit just any woman to be your bride?” he scoffs, but when his eyes meet mine, his round face pales. “No, Chance. That’s the worst idea I’ve ever heard. Do you understand the repercussions if that backfired? Jesus…” His chubby fingers knead at his forehead while his thumbs desperately circle his temples. Despite the severity of what I’m suggesting, I want to laugh at his reaction.
“I want to ask Mia to marry me.” His eyes flit to where my phone still lies on his desk, the screen timed out and turned dark by now, but he gets the picture. “Can you prepare some sort of document that will protect me?”
“I can’t say I’ve ever been asked to protect someone from a bogus marriage that they willingly went into, knowing it was bogus.”
“I know it’s not traditional—”
“Oh, you got that right! It’s selfish, Chance. You’re going to mess with a woman’s head, emotions, possibly break her heart because you think it’ll seal the deal for custody?”
“I won’t break her heart. I plan on telling her. Paying her a fee upfront—”
He tosses his pencil on the desk. “I’ve heard it all now! I’ve practiced law for thirty-two years, thinking I’d heard it all, but you…you’ve just given me a first!” He shakes his head, letting out a dry laugh.
“Edward, aside from the unconventional reason we get married, would it help my case?”
He sighs heavily with defeat and a feeling of triumph washes over me. “Assuming she’s not some drug addict or raging bitch that could be a potential PR nightmare, yes. Whether it’s the case or not, marriage usually paints a much better picture of stability.”
“Then consider it done.” I stand, swiping my phone from his desk. “I’ll call you Monday with the specifics, but I’m gonna shoot for five thousand a month for an allowance.” I waggle my fingers around with the word allowance. “As soon as I have custody, we’ll divorce,” I add matter-of-factly. Edward turns red with disgust and I laugh, slipping through the door and by the brunette with thoughts of only one person.
16
Mia
I race down the street of my little neighborhood, faster than usual. For once, I left Paul standing in that parking lot, not the other way around.
He found out Jimmy fired me and knew I wouldn’t have the money. He had only just begun his threats before I successfully yanked my arm away from him, thanks to the distraction of a passing police cruiser. I got in my car and hauled ass toward my house. I wouldn’t put it past him to know where I live or show up here, but I’m certain I got the head start I need to get inside safely.
I wanted to stop at the hardware store for a few moving boxes and tape, but didn’t want him to get ahead of me and be here waiting. That seems to be his thing. Garbage bags will have to do. I don’t have much. Most of its already been sold. I’ll comb through my house tonight, gathering the family photos and the few things of my mother’s and leave in the morning.
I take one last look in my rearview mirror, scanning for his dark colored sedan before making the final turn into my driveway. I don’t even let off the gas. My little car rattles with the jolt of the small dip near the street before practically skidding to a stop. I grab my purse from the passenger seat, looking over my shoulder again and quickly get out. I run toward the small front porch before looking toward the few steps that lead to my door. When I do, my heart almost stops.
He stands, sliding his hands into the pockets of his jeans. It’s a casual move, probably a subtle gesture to say he’s not here to hurt me, and it disarms me in a way that has me almost forgetting that Paul could pull up any minute. Audrey’s words come to mind, you need Chance McKnight, Paul will leave you alone and for a fleeting minute, I imagine Paul driving up, seeing Chance standing here and driving off to never be seen or heard from ever again. I push that thought aside, not wanting to involve him in my shit. He doesn’t deserve that, no matter how tough he is. I glance toward the street, noticing his big black truck, and wonder how I missed that.
“Hey,” Chance speaks softly, taking a few tentative steps toward me. He’s taller than I remember, and under the light of day, more attractive than I had imagined.
“Hi,” I say as my eyes briefly flit back to the new tires on my car and praying he’s not here for payment. “Thanks for the tires. You didn’t have to do that.”
“You needed them.”
“I’ll pay you back,” I lie, knowing as much as I would love to, my funds are limited and my time even more so. When I drive away in the morning, I have no intention of ever coming back.
“I won’t take it,” he grins.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, nervously.
“I’ve had a shit day,” he says, using my own words from the night before and immediately setting me at ease. When our eyes connect, he smiles and I get lost in it. He’s so damn handsome. His short dark hair isn’t styled, doesn’t even look like it’s been combed, but something makes me think that messy look is his style. Dark lashes line light green eyes, a slight bump just under the bridge of his nose disrupts its perfect line, but still looks perfect, nonetheless. Full lips stretch, framing a smile of white teeth and exposing a small chip on the inside corner of his left front tooth. This is the first time I’m seeing him unfiltered by darkness or obstructed behind tinted windows, and he’s more than I imagined. Not just more rugged, more handsome, just more…everything.
The wind picks up, reminding me of the falling sun and impending storm. I need to get on the road. I glance at the street once more. “Do you want to come in?” I offer, not wanting Paul to see him here.
“Can I?” he asks, his tone unsure. Proving again he’s not the self-assured prick that I’d catalogued him as. He wasn’t that guy last night, or this morning when he thought enough to buy me tires and he isn’t that guy right now.
“Sure, I don’t have much. Don’t even own a TV,” I say, trying to prepare him for my barren space as I walk toward the door.
“Can we just talk? There’s something I want to ask you,” he says, following me in.
Turning around, seeing him in my two-room cottage, he looks larger than life. ‘Like a bull in a China shop’, my mother would say. Only he walks quietly and carefully, stopping at framed pictures of Audrey and I, my parents, even my childhood dog that died the spring before I went off to college. “Is this your family?” He lifts a framed picture of the four of us at an amusement park. It’s a candid picture where we’re all making funny faces and holding up our carnival game loot. I was home on break my freshman year of college. It was one of the last happy memories I have that includes Audrey.
“Used to be.” I swallow hard, my emotions getting the best of me. I walk by that picture
every day and lift it in my hands at least weekly to dust it, but there’s something in having a near stranger holding what was once your entire world in their hands that has me feeling the loss all over again.
Chance’s eyes land on mine. “I didn’t mean to upset you,” he says softly, carefully putting the picture back in its place.
I force a smile. “It’s okay. My parents died a couple of years ago in a car accident. I should be over it by now, but sometimes when things get tough, their memory creeps in heavily and reminds me of what I don’t have anymore.” I force my smile to return, not wanting to do this tonight.
“And the other girl?”
“My sister, Audrey. No, she’s very much alive. Living in Texas with my aunt,” I say, carefully leveling my tone to avoid the distaste I feel for Audrey these days.
“I have two little brothers, Matthew and Brandon. Ten and eight. They also live with my aunt.” I sense the sadness in his tone. Perhaps this is the reason for his bad day. “I don’t have any pictures of us together though,” he adds.
“You should take pictures. We never know when our time is up. Sometimes that’s all that’s left behind,” I say, meaning every simple word of it. We hear people say things like that all the time, but you never think it’ll happen to you. Since that picture was taken, I’ve lost my parents, my dreams and even Audrey in many ways. We’ve had to sell our childhood home, my mother’s dance studio, but tomorrow when I drive away from St. Louis, I cut the invisible tether to it all, losing it in a gamble that I’ll get all of Audrey back.
Chance simply nods, not saying anything in response. “Would you like a drink?” I ask, deciding not to pry.
“Yeah, water would be great.”
I take off my coat and step to the kitchen area, hating that I don’t have walls. I’m acutely aware of Chance’s eyes on me as I reach into the cabinet for glasses, feeling them follow me as I get ice and pour water from the jug in the refrigerator. When I hand him the glass, I debate on telling him it’s only tap water filled into an old milk container, but he doesn’t seem to notice or care as he drains half his glass in one long guzzle.
