The Most Eligible Bachelor

by Bella Winters

  “Yes?”

  “He’s got everyone thinking that you’re on drugs, and the reason you left was because you had checked yourself into some kind of rehab.”

  “He did what?”

  The messages suddenly made a lot of sense. Why Dennis had done it, though, I had no idea. I remembered stressing on the fact that I didn’t want anyone to bother me while I was away or even know I was sick, but this was a little bit of a stretch. He could have just told everyone I was away on business.

  “It’s all over the news, too,” Alice said. “Someone leaked this nonsense to the press, and they’re really running with it. You’ve been a television sensation since last night.”

  I frowned. What the hell?

  “I don’t get it,” I said. “Why would Dennis do that?”

  “Why? Really?” Alice scoffed. “Seriously, for a man who runs a multi-billion dollar company, you can be thick as a brick sometimes.”

  “For a woman who is still on my payroll and hopefully wants to remain that way, you really need to learn boundaries,” I shot back, angry at the tone, and even angrier at how confused I was by all this.

  “Okay, well here’s the shit you’re in,” she said. “Your so-called best friend has called an urgent board meeting to discuss the implications of your ‘drug problem’ on Ridder Technology. On the agenda? A vote as to whether or not you’re suitable to run this company anymore.”

  “What?” I shouted, feeling every muscle in body tense. A sudden burst of rage exploded inside me. “That’s my company!”

  “Yeah, but the board decides who runs it, remember?” Alice said. “Get back to Austin, Chance. Dennis is screwing you. He’s trying to take over as CEO.”

  “I’m on my way,” I said. My chest started to ache, but I ignored it.

  I hung up and fought the urge to throw the phone against the wall. Christ, did I need a cigarette and a drink. I couldn’t believe Dennis would do this to me. After everything we’d been through together, after all that I had done for him, and he was taking the first chance that I was away to try and steal the company from right under my feet.

  Can he even do that?

  Of course he could, if he had the support of the fucking board, who was not that happy with me at the moment. I wasn’t going to sit around and wait for it to happen. If that fucker thought he could mess with what I built, he had another thing coming. I was already thinking up different ways to rip him apart once I laid my hands on him. Not only that, but he was slandering my name, too.

  I clenched the phone in my hand and went back inside, making my way to the kitchen while trying to think of what to tell Ashlyn. I stopped dead in my tracks when I saw my face on the small television sitting on the kitchen table.

  Ashlyn turned to look at me, the tears in her eyes barely masking the anger that flamed behind them.

  You lied to me!”

  The sound of her shouting made me cringe, and although I had been trying to calm her down for the past ten minutes, there was no breaking through the wall of rage that shrouded her. I would have had better luck talking to a log.

  “That’s not entirely true,” I argued, trying to keep my voice down in hopes she’d do the same. It wasn’t working so far.

  “How is it not true?” she yelled. “You told me you were on fucking sabbatical. You never told me you were a drug addict! Did you run away from rehab or something? Oh Christ, is the law after you?”

  “Jesus, Ashlyn, I’m not a fucking drug addict!” I couldn’t hold my anger back anymore, and my voice bellowed across the kitchen. “That’s a rumor started by an asshole who is trying to steal my company from me!”

  “And I’m supposed to believe that?” she asked. “After all the other lies. You told me you were just some entrepreneur, not a fucking billionaire!”

  “I said an entrepreneur of sorts.”

  “Stop it!” she screamed. “Stop playing with your words to get yourself out of this!”

  “Out of what?” I shouted back. “I didn’t do anything wrong!”

  “You call this not doing anything wrong?” she shot back, pointing at the screen. The networks were having a field day. There was video of me drunk off my ass leaving a late-night party. The banner beneath the video read Billionaire Entrepreneur Drug Addict… Jesus freakin’ Christ.

  I sighed and threw my hands in the air. “It’s all a lie. You have to believe me.”

  “I should have seen this coming,” she said, talking to herself rather than to me, shaking her head and burying her hands in her hair. “I always choose the crazy ones. Always. Why would this be any different?”

  “Ashlyn, please.” I reached out for her.

  “Don’t!” she screamed, pointing at me angrily to keep my distance. “Don’t you fucking come near me, you lying son of a bitch!”

  “Listen, most of what I said was true,” I tried to reason with her. “My name is Chance Ridder, as you can see from the fucking TV. A week ago, my doctor told me that if I didn’t tone down the stress and every other crazy thing in my life, I’d die of a heart attack before I was forty. So I really am on a sabbatical. I was on my way home to see my mother in Booth. I was just trying to stay anonymous, that’s all. Okay? I didn’t want anyone to know who I was.”

  “You should have told me,” she hissed, her eyes drenched. “After everything I told you yesterday, you should have told me. I fucking opened up to you, Chance! I laid my entire life at your feet. And you trampled all over it!” She stopped suddenly, her eyes wide. “I let you into my bed. I trusted you and let you in my bed.”

  She grabbed a plate and threw it at me, the ceramic shattering against the wall over my head. “You fucking asshole!” she screamed.

  “Ashlyn, goddammit!” I yelled.

  “Get out!”

  “Ashlyn.”

  “Get out!” she screamed, running to me and slamming her fists against my chest, pushing me out the kitchen and towards the door. “Get out, get out, get out, get out!”

  She shoved me out the front door, and I let her. I didn’t have it in me to fight her, let alone make her angrier. Right now, I needed her to calm down, and if letting her throw me out of the house would do that, then so be it.

  “You can walk to the fucking motel,” she shouted, ripping off my shirt, revealing her naked body underneath. My eyes couldn’t help but stare at her tits. She threw my shirt in my face and slammed the door. “I don’t ever want to see you again.”

  I sighed, taking in a deep breath before I knocked on the door. There was no reply, but I could hear her on the other side, crying. I slid down to a sitting position with my back to the door, the blood hammering in my head as my mind raced with a hurdle of emotions. My chest was clenching like a son of a bitch. I could hear my pulse pounding in my ears. First Dennis, and now this. Yet, all I gave a shit about was making Ashlyn see the real me.

  “My name is Chance Ridder,” I started loud enough to be heard through the door. “I’m thirty-two years old, born and raised in Booth, Texas. My father was an abusive alcoholic, but my mother loved him, and on the good days, I actually felt like I had a family. I went to college at Texas A&M, where I met the man who would eventually stab me in the back and try to take my company.”

  There was no reply from her, but the crying had stopped.

  “I am the CEO of Ridder Technology, founded it fresh out of college and worked my ass off to make it what it is today. I’m not married, I don’t have kids, and for the past five years my life has only revolved around work, parties and women. I’m an only child. Pauline isn’t my sister, she’s my maid. Alice really is my secretary, and the Chevy in Hank’s garage belonged to my father.”

  I sighed and waited. Still no reply.

  “I am rich. Filthy rich. I have more money than I know what to do with, and then some. I spend my money on alcohol, cigarettes and cars, but definitely not drugs. I live in a penthouse in one of the most expensive areas in Austin in a building I own.

  “I wasn’t on my w
ay to Houston. I was going back to Booth, to get away from it all. When you’re in a position like mine, at one point or the other, you feel like you’re invincible, like you would never die. That maybe you can bribe death to leave you alone. But that’s just a lie I tell myself to kind of validate my lifestyle.”

  I took a long drag from my cigarette, looked at the thing that was slowly eating away at my life expectancy, and let the smoke out with a sigh.

  “I panicked when the doctor told me I was headed for a heart attack. I took the old Chevy, told only a few people where I was going, and left. I wanted a break, Ashlyn. A break from the parties, the stress, everything. I wanted to go where no one knew me, where no one expected anything from me.”

  I thumped the back of my head against the door. “I didn’t expect the truck to break down near here. I didn’t expect to spend a couple of days in Ludwig. And I definitely didn’t expect to meet you. Being with you, Ashlyn, the past couple of days, it’s like nothing I’ve ever felt before. It’s new to me, scary even, but in a good way. I didn’t want to lie to you. I really didn’t. And I especially didn’t want you to find out this way. But these past couple of days, and last night, they were incredible, and I didn’t want to ruin it.”

  I waited. Nothing.

  “Ashlyn?”

  There was a shifting movement behind the door. Her voice came through softly. “Go back home, Chance. Leave me alone.”

  I closed my eyes in frustration as I listened to her feet retreat deeper into the house. My time with sweet Ashlyn had come to an end.

  12

  Chance

  It took me almost an hour to get back into town. Driving up to Ashlyn’s place made the distance seem miniscule, but actually having to walk it in the heat of the Texas sun shed a new light on just how far away from the town center she really was.

  I kept my head low, avoiding eye contact with the scant number of people awake and strolling down the main road. I wanted to get to the motel, pack and get the hell out of here. I didn’t even care about the things I had left at Ashlyn’s house. The feelings coursing through me right now, the embarrassment I was experiencing, it was like I had been slapped across the face. Hard.

  Add to that the fact that my best friend was screwing me over, and you got yourself the perfect blend of self-pity and loathing.

  You should have just kept your head low and not gotten involved.

  Too late for that now.

  I clenched my fists and buried them in my pockets. I didn’t know what was pissing me off more, the fact that I had screwed things up with Ashlyn or the fact that Dennis was trying to screw me over. But the more I thought about it, the more I felt like I could handle Dennis; I just had no idea what to do about Ashlyn.

  “You just had to go and fall for her, didn’t you?” I muttered to myself.

  The Chance Ridder from two days ago would have known better. He would have been able to keep a straight head on his shoulders and get the hell out of dodge before any of this had happened. There was no room for emotions in his life, no space for feelings and caring and all that other bullshit that was clogging up my mind and making me feel like shit. He would have handled this the right way; fuck the girl, then leave.

  A part of me kind of hated that Chance Ridder just a little bit for letting things go so easily.

  By the time I reached the motel, the sun was beating down hard, and I had worked up a good sweat. A cold shower was what I needed, then a few hours of complete silence while I tried to figure out what the hell I would do next. There was no doubt in my mind that I had to get back to Austin. Staying here any longer would only make things back home worse, and I didn’t want that. But at the same time, leaving Ludwig meant leaving Ashlyn, and with the way things stood between us right now, I didn’t want that either.

  Pull yourself together.

  I shook my head angrily, ran a hand through my hair and tried to clear my head. First things first, clean up the mess Dennis had made and somehow get that knife out of my back. I walked past the motel, making my way towards Hank in hopes that the Chevy would be ready for me by the morning. I found the man sitting in the shade, legs propped up on a milk crate and his hat pulled over his eyes.

  “Hank.” I snapped my fingers at him, waking him up.

  Hank pushed his hat up, squinted at me and smiled. “Mr. Ridder,” he said. “Good news. Your head gasket came in.”

  “That’s great to hear,” I said. “How long before it’s fixed?”

  Hank frowned. “Leavin’ already?”

  “I think I’ve overstayed my welcome,” I nodded.

  Hank looked at me for a beat, then shrugged. “Wasn’t gonna work on her until later in the mornin’, but if you’re in a hurry now, I’ll get right to it.”

  “You think you’ll be done by tonight?”

  “That bad, huh?” Hank asked.

  “Excuse me?”

  “With Ashlyn,” Hank said. “Things didn’t go so well I take it.”

  “How about this?” I said, changing the subject. “You get the Chevy ready within a couple of hours, and I’ll update your workstation free of charge.”

  “That’s a mighty fine offer, Mr. Ridder, but I’d be lyin’ to ya if I promised that,” he said. “Definitely not before tomorrow mornin’ for sure.”

  I sighed and scratched the back of my head, looking at Chevy and cursing it for everything it had put me through. “Fine,” I finally said. “I’ll find another way back to Austin. I’ll send someone over to pick it up tomorrow.”

  “Your call, boss,” Hank said, looking at me like I was in desperate need for a friend.

  I thanked him and made my way back to the motel. I speed dialed Alice on the way.

  “Tell me you’re on the road,” she said.

  “Truck’s down until tomorrow,” I said. “How was the meeting?”

  “Postponed until tomorrow,” Alice replied. “Are you sure the truck will be ready in time?”

  “I’m not waiting until tomorrow,” I said. “Call Miles and tell him to come pick me up. I’ll send you the location now.”

  I sat on my bed, the smell of the lilies faint now that Ashlyn hadn’t replaced the flowers in two days. I twirled the phone between my hands, trying to decide whether or not to call her. She wouldn’t answer me anyway; I was sure of that. But a part of me still wanted to dial that number.

  I tossed the phone aside, ran my hands across my face and ruffled my hair in frustration. I needed to get a grip. There were bigger problems right now. I needed to get to Austin and deal with Dennis first, and then I’d be able to figure out just what to do about Ashlyn. Right now, my mind was clogged with problems, and there would be no thinking straight until the one thing that got me into this mess in the first place had been dealt with.

  Fuck, I hated this.

  I stood up and paced about the room, grabbing my phone again and checking the time. If Miles had left when I called Alice, then it would be another three hours at least until he got here. I should have told her to send the damn company helicopter. That meant three hours of me alone with my thoughts, and if that didn’t kill me, I didn’t know what would. If I didn’t get a hold of my emotions, that heart attack would be knocking on my door a lot sooner than foretold.

  I needed to clear my head. Maybe walk a bit around town, although that would only kill a half hour or so, not more. Chuck would only be good enough company for maybe an hour before we both got bored of each other, and Hank wasn’t a better choice. Besides, I wanted him focused on fixing the truck, even if I wasn’t going to be driving it back.

  That fucking truck.

  So many things would have gone differently if that damn head gasket hadn’t have blown. I could have been in Booth right now, enjoying my mother’s food and a relaxing time out in the fields. I wouldn’t be tormented with thoughts of Ashlyn or anyone else for that matter. And I probably would have been able to stop Dennis far before things had blown out of proportion.

  I silently cured my fat
her and his piece of shit old truck. Even in the grave, he was still tormenting me. If I had it in me, I’d dig him out, burn what remained of him, and scattered his ashes across the cow dung at the farm back home.

  You need to get out of the room.

  I needed more than that. I needed a fucking drink.

  Just like every other store in this damned town, the bar was named after the owner, the apostrophe after the name whimsically created in the shape of a beer glass. I hadn’t expected anyone to be at Joel’s this early in the afternoon, but apparently, I wasn’t the only one drinking my troubles away.

  I pulled myself up on a stool at the bar, briefly taking note of two men watching me from a booth in the back and an old geezer who looked like he was half asleep over his drink, his head nodding every few seconds before he snapped it back up again and blinked rapidly. The overall atmosphere was enough to make you want to drown in liquor, and the jukebox was playing some old tune that sounded like cats scratching across a chalkboard. I started to regret the choice to come here, and only the view of lines of liquor bottles lined up and waiting to be drunk made me feel a little better.

  The bartender was a huge man, easily shadowing Chuck and making me look like a matchstick in comparison. He had a towel in his hand and was cleaning a glass, making me wonder how in the world the thing hadn’t shattered in his grip.

  “What can I getcha?” he asked, giving me a suspicious look.

  “Bourbon,” I replied, taking out my cigarettes and lighting one. I inhaled the smoke like a man gasping for his last breath. The smoke burned my lungs, but immediately chilled me out. “Best you got. And keep pouring until I say stop.”

  The bartender didn’t move. He stood there, glaring at me, his hand twirling the towel inside the glass as if he were on cruise control. I took a drag from my cigarette, stared back at him and waited.

  “You’re the new guy, aren’tcha?”

  “The new guy?”

  He nodded. “Over at the motel. The one that’s been hanging around with Ashlyn Carter.”