Another Chance at Love (Another Series Book 1)

by Suzanne Sweeney

  As we take the short elevator ride down to the main lobby, something changes. An uneasy feeling begins to creep up on me. The energy that ignited my senses now has me feeling dizzy and lightheaded.

  We step out onto the busy sidewalk and the feeling grows stronger. My heart is racing wildly and my hands tingle. I keep moving, hoping the feeling will pass. But something’s not right.

  People are everywhere, coming towards me from every direction. My heart pounds each time someone races past me.

  My palms are sweaty and my head is beginning to ache. I know this feeling – I’ve felt it many times before. I’m having an anxiety attack.

  Crowds of people and unfamiliar faces are my trigger. And here I am in the middle of the city that never sleeps, jam-packed with masses of strangers scurrying past in a continuous hustle and bustle to parts unknown.

  For months, I struggled to walk down the Point Pleasant boardwalk calmly. If there were too many people on the beach or too many visitors strolling along the boardwalk, I’d avoid and hide – afraid of everything and everyone.

  I’ve come so far. I want to be strong. I want to be brave. I will do my very best to be both. And if I can’t, I’ll just fake it until I make it.

  Cole stops abruptly to answer his phone, leading me away from the crowded sidewalk. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice that across the street, someone also stops – a man.

  Recognition ignites like a gunshot – fast, sudden, and powerful. He looks up and our eyes lock. He smiles. I open my mouth to scream his name, but nothing comes out.

  I reach for Cole.

  “Adam, hold on a minute.” He turns to me and asks, “What’s wrong?”

  I turn to point across the street, directing his attention to the very spot where Paul stood, only to find him gone. There is no Paul. Did he leave, scurry away, and hide inconspicuously so as not to be noticed again? Or was my mind playing tricks on me?

  All I see now are a pair of young girls apparently waiting for someone while they play with their cell phones.

  “Nothing,” I reluctantly admit. “I thought I recognized someone. Sorry.”

  Cole returns to his conversation and I wait for my heart rate to slow back down.

  What the fuck just happened?

  For the next few days, I debate with myself whether or not to say anything to Philip. Surely, if Paul were released early, he would have told me. He would have warned Cole to be extra vigilant. And there’s no way Cole would have taken me into the city. And definitely not anywhere near my publisher’s office. That’s the first place someone would go if they wanted to find me.

  There are probably a million people that look like Paul from a distance, and at least a hundred of them must live in Manhattan alone.

  The more I think about it, the more certain I am that my mind was playing tricks on me. Being back in the city was a rush and being thrust back into the publishing world was a shock to the system. I was definitely off my game when I thought I saw him.

  Friday rolls around and Cole only has time for a quick breakfast. He’s got a one o’clock game, which requires him to be at the field by nine. “What do you want to do tonight?” I ask.

  “I should be home by six. Why don’t we go out to eat? Do you know any good seafood places around here?”

  Aha – more new information. My man likes seafood. I make a mental note and catalog that for future reference. “Um, Cole, we live at the shore. I’m pretty sure every restaurant serves seafood.”

  “Great. Pick one out. Someplace quiet, off the beaten track. Make us some reservations for seven o’clock. I’ll pick you up.”

  I quickly agree.

  “So, what kind of day do you have planned?” he asks.

  “Well, first I have to get my oil changed. But that shouldn’t take too long. Then I think I’ll hang out at work, maybe work on a chapter or two. We’ll see how it goes.”

  Cole smiles, flashing his pearly whites at me with a glint in his eyes. “Listen, if you need to do any research, just let me know. I think I could fit you into my schedule tonight.”

  “Good to know, I’ll keep that in mind.”

  He stands up to leave and I begin to clear off our table and gather up our trash. “Put that down and come here,” he demands.

  Cole wraps his arms around me and pulls me tight against him and kisses me. “See you later.” His fingers drift across my chin. “Have a great day at work.”

  “You, too,” I tell him as he walks away. “Kick some Blue Jay ass while you’re out there.”

  “Will do!” he calls back, giving me a thumbs up.

  When Cait comes in at nine, I’m able to slip away to get my oil changed. When I arrive, they tell me that there are only two cars ahead of me, and the wait should be less than an hour.

  I find an available chair and sit down with my Kindle in hand, prepared to whittle away the time reading. But unfortunately, there’s too much commotion. Too many people coming and going, the phone is constantly ringing, and the television is too loud.

  So I decide to take a walk through the showroom just to see what’s new. There’s a modest selection of new Beemers – a white convertible, a silver sports coupe, a red sedan, and a midnight blue SUV.

  As I peer inside the spacious SUV, I can’t help but think about how nice it would be to be able to drive around with Cole in something other than his beloved Ugly Betty. He would not have any difficulty fitting into this vehicle comfortably.

  It doesn’t take long for an industrious salesman to find me. “Hi, are you looking for a new car today?”

  I turn around and find a young man, around my age, meticulously dressed with highly polished shoes and an equally polished greeting.

  “Oh, no. Not today. I’m just browsing while I get my oil changed.”

  He nods and smiles. Holding out his hand, he introduces himself. “My name is Jim.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a business card. “If you change your mind, I’d love to take you out for a test drive. You’re going to fall in love with our new tech package.”

  I look down at the card he hands me. Jim Gerard. Two first names. Men with two first names cannot be trusted. Ever. Everyone knows that to be true.

  I try my best to brush him off. “Thanks, Jim. But unfortunately, my lease isn’t up for a few more months.”

  His eyes light up. “Then this is the perfect time to do a little research. Why don’t you let me show you what’s new? Do you currently drive a SUV?”

  With nothing better to do, I throw caution to the wind and let him practice his sales pitch on me. “No, I have a 3-Series GT.”

  “Well, this SUV is a great family vehicle,” he begins to explain. “Do you have a large family?”

  “Family?” I chuckle. “No, I don’t have a large family, but I do have a large boyfriend.”

  “And how does he like the GT?”

  “I wouldn’t know,” I explain. “He’s six foot four so I haven’t even tried to get him inside.”

  “Wow – big is right. Do you have your heart set on a SUV?”

  “No, not really. I was just a little curious.”

  “Okay, then. Why don’t you let me show you our 750 model? It’s got the best headroom and legroom in its class.”

  Jim leads me towards the red sedan at the other end of the showroom. I hate red cars and I immediately turn up my nose. My astute new friend notices immediately. “Tell me what you’re thinking. I can see you have reservations.”

  “It’s silly, but I really don’t care for red cars.”

  He smiles. “Well, this model comes in an array of colors. Let me show you some of its features.” As he begins to open doors, show me what’s under the hood (as if I understood any of what he’s saying), and demonstrate the ample storage space in the trunk, another salesman enters the showroom. Jim calls him over. “Hey, Charlie, can I borrow you for a minutes?”

  Charlie seems friendly enough. “Yeah, sure. What’s up?”

  “How tall are you?” Ji
m asks.

  “Six five,” he answers. He smiles and offers me a handshake. “Charlie Ward. It’s nice to meet you.”

  “Kensington Harper,” I answer.

  Jim has an idea. “Charlie, Miss Harper here has a boyfriend about your size. Can you show her how well you fit in the 750?”

  “Oh, sure. My pleasure.” I watch in awe as the tall and lanky Charlie easily folds himself into the front seat of the car. His legs aren’t buckled and his head isn’t scraping the roof. He actually looks comfortable.

  Jim eyes my reaction carefully. “See, I wasn’t kidding when I told you it was roomy. Why don’t you take one out for a test drive?”

  Hmm . . . maybe?

  And in less than one hour, I’m driving off the lot in a brand new fully loaded BMW with driving assistant, parking assistant, blind spot detection, and lane keeping assistant. I thought my old car had bells and whistles.

  Jim effortlessly got me out of my lease three months early and into this brand new car with only fifteen miles on the odometer. I’m not entirely sure exactly how it happened.

  There’s only one explanation for how I got here – Jim Gerard, man with two first names.

  But then again, I do sort of love my new car. I can’t wait to get it home and show the girls.

  I arrive at the boardwalk and find there’s an open spot right up front. So I pull right in and send the girls a group text.

  Me: I’m back, please come meet me outside ASAP.

  Brie: You ok?

  Cait: wassup?

  Me: I have a surprise to show you – hurry up.

  Jim Girard helped me sync my phone before I left. Despite the terrible burden of having two first names, he’s a pretty nice guy. The only thing left to do is program my favorite stations on the satellite radio while I wait.

  The girls come out together and I see them scanning the cars trying to find me. Ha! They have no idea what they’re looking for. I roll down the window, wave my arms, and call, “Here I am!”

  Eyes wide, they walk over to my car. I step out and present my newest acquisition, sweeping my arms grandly in perfect Vanna White style. “Do you want to spin or buy a vowel?” I ask.

  “I’m ready to guess the phrase,” Cait announces as she inspects my car from bumper to bumper. “Is it . . . You’re out of your fucking mind?”

  “Cait!” Brie scowls. “Maybe it’s just a loaner car.” She turns to me waiting for an explanation.

  “It’s not a loaner,” I explain. “It’s mine. At least for the next thirty-six months, anyway.”

  “What made you go out and buy a new car?” Cait interrogates. “This must have set you back quite a bit.”

  That’s Cait, the money cruncher.

  “Actually, no – it didn’t cost me a thing. No money down. The salesman even got me out of my current lease three months early,” I eagerly explain as she walks around the car, eyeing it critically.

  “Nothing is free, Kenny. You know that perfectly well. If you put nothing down, that means you have to make up for it somewhere, somehow.” She turns and looks at me. “What are your payments?”

  Brie takes a sharp intake of breath. “Cait – that’s none of your business.”

  Ignoring Brie’s indignant criticism, she asks again. “How much more are you paying?”

  “Double,” I mumble.

  Cait says nothing. It’s Brie’s reaction that surprises me. “Double?” she repeats loudly.

  I nod.

  “I’m sorry, Kenny, but maybe Cait’s right. This is a car I would expect Kensington Layne to buy, not Kensington Harper.”

  “Well, it just so happens that I am them. They are me. We are one and the same.”

  “No, you’re not,” Cait corrects me. With hands propped on her hips and a scowl on her face, she explains. “You walked away from that life. Your income as Kensington Layne is behind you. You should be looking at ways to cut back, not expand.”

  “I’m sorry, Kenny, but I have to agree with Cait on this one,” Brie begrudgingly admits. She places a sympathetic hand on my arm. “Maybe it’s not too late to bring it back.”

  “Exactly,” Cait barks. “I’m pretty sure you have something like twenty-four to forty-eight hours to change your mind.”

  “I’m not doing it. I love this car and I’m keeping it,” I argue.

  Brie grabs me by the hand and begins walking back towards the shop. “Let’s sit and talk,” she says. Turning to Cait, she adds one word, “Calmly.” We find a table far away from any customers. “You two sit. Not a word from either one of you until I get back.”

  She scurries away. Cait and I both pull out our phones while we wait. Cait is probably checking on her Twitter feed or Instagram, but not me. I’m pulling up my MLB app to watch the start of Cole’s game.

  It’s already bottom of the first and Cole’s in the field. The first batter strikes out and the second batter is struggling at the plate. No sign of the infielders getting any action.

  Brie returns, places three raspberry lemonades in the center of the table, and passes out cake pops. “Here. There’s one for each of you, and one for me. Everything seems better after you’ve had a cake pop. Don’t you agree?”

  She brought me a birthday cake pop, which I absolutely love. Cait gets a chocolate chip cookie dough cake pop. And Brie keeps a chocolate cake pop for herself. The three of us silently inhale our sweet treats. It’s the perfect size, just three bites and gone!

  “Alright, I’ll start,” I initiate the conversation. Turning to Cait, I have to call her out on a few things that bother me the most. “Cait, I appreciate your concern, I really do – but honestly, how I pay for my new car is none of your business.”

  “It will be my business if you decide you need a bigger paycheck to make ends meet,” she retorts.

  “Haven’t you bragged to me a dozen times about how well TitleWave was doing financially?” I charge back. “Has something changed that I don’t know about?”

  “No, I’m not saying that at all. I’m just saying that this is a new business and we really have no way of predicting precisely what the winter will bring. We should be able to stay afloat financially, but you’ve nearly doubled your lease payment. I just hope you have enough stashed away to make up the difference.”

  “You know what, Cait? I’m tired of being careful and cautious. I love this car and I’m keeping it. I can’t continue to drive around with Cole in that beat up truck of his.” I take a deep, cleansing breath.

  “I didn’t even know you were considering buying a new car,” Brie says. “We’re just a little surprised. I’m not saying it’s a bad idea, we’re just a little concerned.”

  “Truth be told, I’m a little concerned, too. But I have faith in what we’ve built here.”

  “But just in case?”

  “Just in case, I guess I’ll start cutting coupons.”

  Brie and I laugh, but Cait doesn’t even crack a smile. “This is serious,” she chides me.

  “I am being serious,” I argue. “I’m fairly confident that if I slow down my shopping habits, I can save more than enough to make up the difference.”

  Well, maybe not fairly confident, more like somewhat hopeful.

  “And your plan B?” Brie asks. “You have one of those, right?”

  “Sort of,” I answer honestly.

  Cait sounds angry. “Sort of? That’s not really an answer.”

  “You want an answer?” I ask

  She nods.

  “The truth is, I’ve been offered a very healthy financial package to finish the third installment of my books. And just so you know, I already have three chapters written and turned into Gail.”

  “Now I know you’ve lost your fucking mind.” Cait’s voice has moved from Normal Loud into Agitated Loud.

  “Does your brother know?” Brie asks. “Or Cole? I can’t imagine either one of them being very happy about the idea.”

  “No, not yet,” I admit. “I’ll tell them after I’ve made a decision.
I said I’ve been offered a package. I never said I’ve accepted it.”

  Both girls visibly relax.

  We spend the next half hour or so talking. Fortunately, Cait’s voice has returned back to Normal Loud and we gradually fall back into our long-established roles. Cait is the realist, seeing around corners and identifying potential pitfalls. Brie is the humanitarian, separating our needs from our wants and helping Cait see the significance of both. As for me – I’m the dreamer . . . go big or go home. I want it all.

  Although they are not completely on-board, they have come to accept the fact that I’m keeping my new car, along with its expensive price tag. And in return, I promise not to make any rash decisions about my writing career. I’m going to carefully think about it and take everyone’s input seriously.

  “So, what are you girls doing tonight?” I ask. It’s Friday and surely they have plans.

  Cait checks her watch. “Another hour or so and Dec will be on his way down. I told him he could crash here for the weekend. I hope that’s okay.”

  “Great!” I excitedly answer. I haven’t seen him in almost two weeks. He’s due for a visit. “He can break in our new couch.”

  “Brie? Is this okay?” Cait asks, noticing Brie’s uncharacteristic silence.

  “No, it’s fine. I was hoping to have Joe come over tonight. It’s no big deal,” she tries to convince us.

  “Hey, I have an idea – let’s have a party. I’ll invite a few of Cole’s friends. Brie, you can invite Joe. Cait, you should invite people, too. It’ll be fun.”

  Brie’s face lights up. “We’ve never actually had a party at the house. I think it’s brilliant!” she praises.

  “Excellent. Then it’s decided. Now, do either one of you know a good seafood restaurant?”

  CHAPTER 24

  COLE CALLS ON HIS WAY HOME, checking up on our dinner plans. The Red Hawks lost today, even though they were expected to win. I can tell by the tone of his voice that he’s not in a very good mood. He had more than one error tonight – a wild throw to third that resulted in a run, and he bobbled a ball with a bad bounce that brought in another runner. Everyone has bad days, but in sports, you’re only as good as your last game.