Love Needs Another Chance (Truth About Love #3)

by Caleigh Hernandez

  I get to the good stuff. “This next part is a doozy.” I could almost hear the audience shift to the edge of their seats. “The day after Bean’s funeral, Sasha plays the rest of her hand. She starts with another picture of me with the wives of two of my teammates.”

  A chorus of oh-nos and sounds of disbelief answer the torrid picture. “I assure you,” I console them, “this image isn’t quite what it seems.”

  I laid out her game of extortion and what was expected of me. “I’ve spent the last few weeks collecting all of this, but none of what I’ve showed you was enough.”

  Gavin looks at me as if I’m insane. “I’d say all this was pretty damning.”

  “You would think so, Gavin, but every piece I’ve shared was like trying to find a needle in a haystack. She’s good,” I say with a chuckle.

  Sasha continues to remain silent, but gone is the warning look. In its place is rage. She’s probably thinking she’s going to release the blackmail photos and destroy my career, friendships, and marriage. I smile at her. It’s completely sincere. I’m going to really enjoy the rest of this.

  “I’m not better, but those that support me, love me, and even work for me are. Thanks to my family and an unlikely friend, I’m here today on the brink of being a free man.”

  Sasha scoffs. She actually scoffs.

  “Speaking of unlikely friends…” I wait for the images of Izzy and Johnny to appear on the screen.

  Sasha gasps at the images that came with my admission. The audience reaction is a mixed bag.

  “Johnny Specter,” I present. “I first met Johnny eight years ago,” I pause pensively. “Eight years ago tomorrow to be exact.” Huh. I didn’t realize the timing. “He was kissing my girlfriend, my wife…he was kissing Izzy.” I got the reaction I was aiming for as cries of sympathy circulated. “I know I’m about to sound like Ross from ‘Friends’, but we were on a break. I messed up and Izzy kissing Johnny was my consequence. However, that is beside the point…” I say shaking off the path I was headed down. “So many stories, Gavin. I’m trying to stay on the golden brick road to Oz, but the forks in the road are many.”

  “Don’t stop,” he orders. “I’m pretending I have a bag a popcorn and enjoying a good flick.” The crowd is an uproar when someone from behind the scenes comes out with a bag of popcorn.

  I chuckle lightly. I’m monopolizing his show and he’s being quite the sport about it.

  “Oh, okay. Johnny Specter. Let’s just say, Johnny and I have actually become friends.” Sasha’s face is priceless. I mumble to her, not really concerned if the mics pick up what I say or not, “Looks like your people aren’t as thorough as you thought.” I feel like I’m shielded by an invisible barrier. The daggers she’s throwing from her eyes have no effect on me. “In fact, Gavin, Johnny helped Izzy in the beginning of my professional career. Since Izzy made my career her priority over her own, she had to learn how the managing of talent worked. Johnny was integral in this. How does this fit with our current story, you ask?”

  Gavin eagerly nods and I can’t wait to answer.

  “Sasha had her people do their homework. She found out about our college days and how Johnny played into it. She brought him here to make me want her by making Izzy fall in love with him. She figured that with Izzy so distraught over our failed marriage and the barrage of images of me with someone else would drive Izzy into the arms of an old fling.

  “Don’t get me wrong. There have been moments in these last few weeks that had me concerned, but when you’re removed from the one person that grounds you, centers you, reminds you of the truths, your truths, it’s easy for concern and doubt to seep in. A single image can be a powerful thing. An album’s worth of them?” I ask. “In my darkest moments, I was afraid.”

  “You poor man,” Gavin consoles me with a pat to my hand.

  “Thanks, Gavin, but it’s not me I was worried or afraid for. It was Izzy. She’d lost our baby. I wasn’t honest about an innocent mistake. Then, her television, the papers, the magazines were all filled with images that she knew not to be true, but they were so many and I was afraid.”

  Gavin nods in understanding and I take the moment to take another sip of water.

  “Of course, I didn’t need to worry. Izzy stayed strong. She was able to keep the truth, our truth at the forefront of her mind and persevere. She figured out the photo of Sasha and I sharing a moment was one of Izzy and me.”

  “Are you all really going to buy all this?” Sasha finally speaks up. “It seems to me like Diego here is regretting his past indiscretions and trying to paint me the villain. He went into this relationship willingly.”

  “She speaks,” Gavin announces.

  “We figured you’d say that. Which takes us back to the fact that all this wasn’t enough. So we dug our heels in and waited. Waited for this…” I trail off.

  The screen comes back to life with still images of Sasha and Johnny as the other night’s exchange between them plays out over the studio speakers.

  “You ridiculous fool. You’re supposed to be seducing Izzy,” Sasha’s voice hisses.

  “And what makes you think I’m not? Or for that matter, I haven’t?” Johnny fired back.

  A look at the screen and everyone listening and watching is getting every word of this exchange. The producers of the show have added captioning to their pictures.

  “Why in the hell are you flirting with that brunette whore then? I thought you were a Boy Scout.” Sasha’s voice is full of angst and frustration.

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  “Nothing. Stop flirting. If you don’t get this Izzy business under control, I’ll make sure that when Diego is finally mine you’ll never see a goddamn penny as his manager.”

  “I’ve done what you asked. You said keep Izzy busy, make sure Diego sees us together as often as possible. Done and done. Now, you make damn sure he’s my client when you make him your husband.”

  When the recording stops, I look to Sasha, giving her a chance to explain herself or the recording. She just stares at the screen, stupefied.

  “The man really is a Boy Scout,” I start. They laugh. “And my manager since my previous manager couldn’t get Sasha’s version of my article fixed.”

  That fact stirs Sasha from her frozen perch. She looks at me with wild eyes. She can’t believe what she’s hearing. “Did I forget to mention that?” I smile wide. “He warned me not to go down this path with you,” I address Sasha. “He encouraged me to let him handle things. Every time I went along with your charade, he was in my ear telling me I was insane. I knew it, but I understood I was the underdog. I knew that my pockets were nowhere near as deep as yours, so I couldn’t throw money at this. I had to match your deep pockets with cleverness and patience.”

  “Whatever,” she says dismissively. “So, I wanted him to seduce your wife. Doesn’t substantiate anything else you’ve claimed.”

  It’s the audiences turn to admonish her.

  “Very true,” I concede. “Which is why I waited for more.”

  The monitor now shows individual pictures of Sasha and me. As the audio turned up, so appeared the captioning. “Last night was unacceptable,” Sasha’s voice rings throughout the studio. “You nearly ruined everything when you confronted Johnny.”

  Sasha fidgets in her seat. She looks like she’s trying to figure out if this is real. She has to be wondering how we managed a recording in her very secure office. Plan B.

  “I’m done, Sasha. No more. You want to destroy everything. Do it.” I sound defeated. I’m not, but it sounds like I was.

  “That’s not how this works. You don’t get to just end things. I will destroy you bit by bit. I can tell you really don’t care if I release these images.” She paused and I remember she tossed the envelope of photos on her desk at thi
s moment. “So, instead, I’ll hit you where it hurts: Izzy.”

  “You leave her out of this. I may not be able to save my marriage, but I’ll be damned if I let you cause her any more pain.”

  “You don’t have a leg to stand on here, lover.” The audience ewws at her word choice. “This will never be over. You will marry me. You will help me get the rest of my inheritance and more if I decide to have a child.”

  The audience gasps, and the rest of the recording is irrelevant. My phone buzzes in my pocket and it’s the final piece of the puzzle. Sure, it’s all out in the open and the picture is clearer than crystal, but this is my game now.

  “Gavin, my assistant just messaged me. It looks like I have one more thing to show.”

  Sasha looks around in bewilderment. From behind the curtain enters Vicki. She’s carrying a manila envelope and from the look on Sasha’s face, she knows what’s in it.

  “My personal assistant, Ms. Victoria Woodhall,” I introduce after standing to meet her. She waves and hands me the envelope. I open to examine the contents. Plan A. I smile at her in appreciation and she takes her leave.

  “Gavin, I’d like to share these final photos—”

  “Are you really going to keep obliging him these fantasies?” Sasha asks hysterically.

  After a nod, one of the crew comes to take the envelope and walks off. Gavin must get a cue in his ear piece when the photos are ready. “Now?” he asks me. I give him a nod.

  The screen fills with the blackmail image. “This is the image that Sasha Stafford has held over me for the last six weeks. This image has haunted every decision I’ve made since then. This photo doesn’t just ruin my marriage, it threatens my career and the relationships I’ve made with my teammates.”

  Gavin asks the question that everyone must be thinking. “How does this ruin your career and friendships?” He’s very confused.

  “I recognized the women the first time Sasha showed me the photo. The blonde and the brunette are actually wives of my fellow teammates.” A round of disbelieving comments started and settled before I continued. “These men were informed before I came here tonight. We weren’t sure we’d get the picture, but on the chance that I got lucky, I warned them. Unlike Sasha here, I’m not in the business of destroying lives just for the fun of it.

  “I explained what I was dealing with. They didn’t have to take my explanations as anything more than excuses, but then I showed each of them the original image.” As if on command, the original image appears. “As you can see, it seems that Javi Bastos was the center of this Neapolitan sandwich.” My comical comparison elicits a nervous laugh from the audience and a hearty chuckle from Gavin.

  “I don’t know how Javi Bastos fits into all of this. Maybe Sasha could explain.” Without a word, Sasha stands up and rips the mic and battery pack from her person. She glares at me one last time and storms off. “I guess she doesn’t feel like explaining.”

  The audience and Gavin join me in laughter. Gavin is startled from his laughter. He presses a finger to his earpiece and then eagerly nods. “Diego Santo, how would you like some good news?” he asks.

  “Not sure what good news you can offer, Gavin, but Sasha’s gone so your good news has a lot to live up to.”

  When the curtain opens, I’m robbed of the necessary air to breathe. “Ladies and Gentleman, the real woman behind the man, Missus,” he emphasizes, “Izzy Santo.” I take the shortest route possible and hop over the back of the couch.

  Hey, she mouths.

  I’m absolutely floored that she’s here. In all our years together, she’s avoided these appearances. She always insisted it wasn’t about her.

  I sweep her into a slow dip, my lips lingering above hers. I crush her mouth with mine, taking her by surprise. I pour every ounce of my love into this kiss. Softening the kiss, I pull back and switch to slow licks of my tongue teasing hers. I alternate back to frantic need and deepen the swirl of my tongue.

  In this moment, there is passion and promise. Her love takes my breath away.

  I break the kiss. Izzy’s smile is no longer broken. “Happy birthday, mi bella preciosa.”

  Epilogue: The Climb

  May 2011 - Izzy

  Mi bella preciosa,

  Happy Anniversary

  Five years ago today, I married Diego Santo, the most amazing man in my world. Tonight, we’re celebrating on the Fleur de Liz floating off the coast of Providenciales in the Turks and Caicos, locally referred to as Provo.

  We spent the day enjoying the activities of the islands. After a light breakfast, we snorkeled. I smile at myself in the mirror, recalling Diego’s silliness. “We need to find Nemo,” he repeated over and over even though I told him there wouldn’t be any clown fish in these waters. He wasn’t disappointed, though. He went crazy taking pictures of the fish we did see…and me. I smacked him when we were looking on the laptop at the photos he took and the ones of me were mostly photos of my ass. “Prettiest thing I saw swimming around out there,” he’d justified. I rolled my eyes and he tackled me to the bed.

  It didn’t take us long before we were naked and slick with sweat. He is the master of my orgasm. After five years of marriage and thirteen years together, he still owns my body. The man looks at me as if he wants to fuck me and I’m practically a puddle of lust. He touches me and I’m bending to his desire.

  When we were done, we went to have lunch on the island. We walked around for a bit before heading back to the boat for a nap.

  Applying my eye makeup, I go for sultry, smoky. Diego is in the other room speaking to Baz and Lito on the phone. I hear him laugh and my heart squeezes.

  We’ve certainly had our shares of ups and downs. Taking on Sasha Stafford had to be our toughest challenge. And our easiest, too.

  She coveted what we had, tested our bond. And she was good.

  Unfortunately for her, when it came down to it, even though the hard parts were many, what she tried to destroy was what made this the easiest challenge. Our bond is solid. We were—are invincible.

  He made a mistake and it had a snowballing effect. But since that night, he admitted he wanted to marry me. That night he told Lito what happened between. That night he showed me had our love memorialized on his arm. Since that night, he’s never given me a reason to doubt him. I was angry. I wasn’t being rational. When I stopped being angry and found my rational side, we worked together to seek and destroy our enemy. We played Sasha in a real life game of Battleship and we won.

  We showed anyone watching that we were invincible.

  “Bella,” Diego calls out. “Lito and Baz say, ‘Hi.’”

  I peak around the corner from the vanity in the bathroom. “Hello, my loves,” I answer as if I’m speaking directly to them.

  Diego scrunches his face. “She says hi back.”

  “Diego Santo,” I scold, “that is not what I said.”

  He gives me a look pleading to not have to repeat it. He must be on the phone with Baz. I can’t imagine he’d have a hard time repeating that to Lito.

  I shake my head, an answer to his pleading look, with a raise of my own eyebrows. He finally repeats to Baz what I’ve said and I go back to putting on my makeup. We’ve got a nice quiet dinner planned here on the boat. I told him we didn’t have to get dressed up, we could do it on our bathing suits. He insisted that he wanted to see my all done up, so he could undo me. I swipe the mascara brush over my eyelashes on one eye and move to the next.

  Seven forty-five.

  I’ve got fifteen minutes to finish getting ready. I secure the platinum charm necklace with the diamond encrusted numbers 2, 4, and 7—24/7, his soccer number and my lucky number seven, a soccer ball, a diamond jeweled single music note, a silver heart with the word amor engraved on it, and in place of the black guitar, a ribbon for the sweet b
aby we lost. The same large lily flower charm and the perfect charm for my saint still dangle on the outside around my neck. My hand lingers on the little mark Diego left this afternoon.

  After our romp in our cabin, we soaked up the sun and swam when we got hot. We snacked on fresh fruit, feeding each other and licking up the deliberate sticky messes. I’m pretty sure the taste of Diego made the strawberries taste even better. Of course, that lead to things heating up and requiring another dip in the water. When that got too hot, we took it back to our cabin.

  “What are you thinking about?”

  “Fuck!” I startle from the memory “Diego, you ass, you scared the crap out of me.”

  “Tell me I’m who you’re thinking about and I’ll make it up to you later,” he offers as a compromise.

  “Of course, it was,” I answer as he nudges my jaw with his chin, so he can have access to the side of my neck.

  He stops abruptly. “Good. Now, it’s ten minutes until dinner is served.”

  The nerves in my tummy start jumping around. I’ve waited so long for this. I hope he’s happy with it. I’m sure I’m just being silly. He’ll like it. Right?

  “Okay, then Mr. Punctual, can you help me with my dress?” He retrieves it from the hook behind him while I slip into my shoes. I had to choose between practical and extra sexy. I chose my five-inch red-soled glass slippers. Practical is for every other day. Extra sexy is for special occasions.

  Diego unzips the dress and holds it in front of him for me to step into. As I’ve become accustomed to, he slides the dress up and carefully zips it into place. I do some lady adjusting, continuing with the theme of extra sexy and my tits are front and center. I love the way his eyes devour me. It takes every ounce of my self-control, and whatever I have in reserve, to keep from unzipping my dress and begging him to take me.