Chloe pushed the memory out of her head. He had no right to march in here with those baby blues and throw her world into chaos. His gaze practically drilled into her, probing, searching for the girl she used to be with him. Chloe refused to give him even a hint of that girl ever again. He wasn’t allowed to demand anything from their past—he’d made his choice when she begged him, pride splintered helplessly around her, to stay. The scene still made her squirm with humiliation. Begging him to stay. Begging him to love her.
Hearing him say no. The resolute look on his face when he uttered the word, splintering her heart like a bullet. The way he’d never reached out, not even a drunken, lonely text to say he missed her and maybe he made a mistake. How many nights had she cried herself to sleep, cradling her aching chest to stop the pain?
Too many.
Slowly, she calmed. Chloe couldn’t allow him to step back into her life and throw it into ruins. She had everything she’d worked for: a great job with meaning, emotional stability, a close relationship with her father, friends, and the possibility of love one day. Owen’s presence hurt, but maybe it’d been the shock of seeing him when she wasn’t prepared. Now her defenses would be up and instilled. She’d keep her focus on the case. Her life didn’t have to change at all—this was just a small bump in the road. If she channeled her mother’s beliefs, maybe he’d been sent to finally lock the door of her heart and allow her freedom.
Maybe it was time to truly put her first love behind her. For good.
She placed the stress ball back in its place. Owen was here for work, plain and simple. He’d help with the case and then move on. New York was a big city so even if he lived here, it should be easy enough to avoid him. She refused to allow him to make her uncomfortable when he was the one who’d left. Chloe would treat him with professional respect and remain politely distant so he didn’t get any ideas. She’d channel all of her political training to keep herself safe, yet pleasant enough to do her job.
Satisfied with her empowering thoughts, she got back to work.
Chapter Three
Owen watched her from his corner. She was a master multi-tasker, able to juggle a phone call while typing out an email, the buzz of energy visible around her aura. He remembered when they first began dating. His idea of a great night was kicking back with some illegally fetched beers, watching a baseball game on TV or hanging with his friends in the dorm or woods. Things were simple because he’d taught himself not to want anything.
Until he wanted Chloe. There’d never been a girl who’d struck him mute the moment he looked into her eyes. Suddenly, he wanted to be worthy of her attention. He’d spent that first summer on the Bishop rescue horse farm following her around, hanging on each word while she taught him the inner workings of the farm. Her passion and love for the animals, for the structure, for the goal of rescuing the abused and helpless, stirred his inner soul. But no matter what he did, she never looked at him the way he craved.
Once his community service was done, he’d returned to a life that no longer satisfied him. His friends suddenly struck him as lazy and unmotivated, their goals nothing but partying and finding ways to cause trouble for their own amusement. He began pulling back, searching for his own identity and a replacement for Chloe. He wanted to feel good again. Important.
Needed.
He got his shit together that year, and when he saw her again at Mia and Ethan’s wedding, she finally gave him a second glance. One slow dance had sparked a new connection—one more of equals—and he’d used that moment to build a foundation, intent on showing Chloe he could be a man worthy of her attention.
And he’d succeeded.
Owen would have bet everything she’d be the one to break his heart one day. He’d prepped for the event the whole time, because inside, he knew he wasn’t enough for her. Not long term.
Instead, he’d ended up breaking her heart and having to live with the awful knowledge for four long years.
It was time to not only make amends, but get her to see why it was necessary to leave her.
“Owen, I have to go soon—did you get all the necessary vet records you asked for? Dr. Weathers said he’d be happy to meet with you again to be a witness.”
He shook his head to clear his thoughts of the past. “Yes, thanks. I’ll reach out.”
“Any response yet on the temporary restraining order?”
“Not yet, but it may take a few weeks. The court’s been backed up lately. I’m keeping a close eye on it. You look nice.”
She jerked back, her gaze full of that wary suspicion that gutted him. Once her soul had been cracked open. Now she barely glanced at him, choosing to distance herself in every way possible. It had only been a few days working in her office, but he already knew how she planned to play the long game. She was focusing only on the work and shut down any effort at personal conversation. She grabbed every opportunity to leave the room, stand apart from him, or rely on email rather than dialogue. The brick wall between them seemed unscalable. He needed to begin chipping it away piece by piece if he’d ever have a chance to re-connect. “Thanks.”
“Going to a fundraiser?” he asked, keeping his tone easy. He noted her sleek long skirt that hugged her curves, and the yellow cotton blouse that hugged her shoulders, leaving all that gorgeous olive skin bare. Her hair had been pinned up, a few dark strands caressing her cheeks, leaving her nape exposed. She’d always been tall at about five nine, but with strappy, high heeled sandals, she reached his height, her gaze level with his, as if she’d needed the extra confidence to face him.
“No.” He waited, but she seemed done. As the governor’s daughter, her social calendar was pretty booked, and the press loved to follow her around, speculating on her new love interest or charity. He’d come back just in time. The magazine dubbing her Bachelorette of NYC would bring out hordes of suitors, desperate to date her. It didn’t hurt she was young, single, and gorgeous, with a vibrant personality that popped on camera.
It had been another reason he’d decided to flee. One day, maybe he’d be able to explain so she understood.
Owen nodded in the following silence that seemed to ripple with undercurrents of tension. “I see. Good talk.”
She spun on her heel, blue eyes shooting sparks of temper. “I have a date, okay? Not that it’s any of your business. In fact, unless it pertains to the case, I don’t think we really need to chat.”
He pretended the breath hadn’t been knocked out of him. Of course she was seeing someone. He just hoped it wasn’t serious yet. “Chloe, I’m going to be here for a while. Can’t we make a truce? You have every damn right to be pissed at me. Do you think I just happily moved on with my life without thinking about you and what I did to us?” Frustration tinged his tone. “I hoped with a bit of time, we’d be able to talk. I want to explain some things.”
Sadness flickered over her features. Automatically, he rose from the chair and stepped forward to take her in his arms, wanting to give comfort, then stopped. Her voice was a soft whisper of sound, a caress to his ears and skin, light as gossamer. “It’s not about anger anymore. It’s about you wanting to step back into my life when you no longer know who I am. It’s about you thinking a good explanation can wipe away the pain, even if I don’t have a right to question why you wanted to leave. Because I realized I don’t have that right, Owen. You shouldn’t have to apologize to me for going after your dreams, even if I wasn’t one of them. I mean, look at you.” She lifted her arms, a humorless laugh escaping her lips. “You’re a lawyer for an important organization at only twenty-six. You made it. And I’m so damn proud.” Her lower lip quivered, then she pulled herself to full height, a calm settling over her. “I just don’t want to talk about the past, or rehash all the things that led us here. Did you ever see the movie LaLa Land?”
He blinked, then shook his head. “No.”
“Let’s just say they both made choices that put them on different paths. They may not have ended up together, but they wer
e happy. It was just an alternate vision than what could have been. Like us.”
“Well, I hate that ending,” he said. “It sucks.”
Genuine laughter flashed in those baby blues, then faded. “Yeah, but it’s real. I’ll agree to stop treating you like a leper, but I don’t want to be friends. That’s my truth, and I hope you respect it. I’ve got to go. Text me with any issues. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She left to go meet another man.
And she didn’t look back.
* * * *
Dinner was perfect.
Drew took her to Felice, an intimate Italian restaurant that was a favorite of hers and her father’s. She knew the places to dine when she wanted to court the press, and the haunts when she craved a bit of privacy.
Drew kept their dialogue fun and easy through the first course, his All American looks easy on the gaze. Now that Vivian called up images of Chris Evans, Chloe realized her friend was right. With his clean-cut blonde hair, dreamy eyes, and chiseled figure, he was a man who was comfortable and confident around women. He owned a successful finance business and set up a foundation to give to various not-for-profits. She wondered if he’d ever been awkward when he was young, or unsure of his future. Or followed a girl around with his heart in his eyes, not caring if he got hurt because she was worth it.
Stop thinking about Owen.
Chloe reached for her wine glass and took a sip. It was an expensive, hearty red that blended with her eggplant dish, bringing out layers of blackberry and currant flavors. It had taken her a while to begin liking wine, but now she appreciated a good pour, finding it a solid subject to make a connection with strangers. It had served her well at many parties, able to smoothly transition into talking about her charity once a proper bond had formed.
Drew gave her an easy smile, his hand reaching across to tangle with hers. “I’m glad you were able to come out tonight,” he said. “I always termed myself a workaholic until I met you.”
She laughed and returned the pressure of his hand. His grip was solid, his hand practically dwarfing hers as if swallowing it whole. She reminded herself it was a feeling of safety rather than control. “Sorry, we got a new case to work on. Hoarding and abuse. The owner escaped prosecution so we’re deep into the civil suit. Have to make sure those animals stay safe, and they don’t find a new place and start over again.”
His face turned sympathetic. “That’s awful. I sped up your application for Advocates for Animals so hopefully a decision can be made sooner on the amount we can give.”
Unease curled in her stomach. “Drew, I don’t want to use our relationship for any unfair advantage. I told you that—I want a fair and equal shot at being one of your foundation picks.”
He grinned, flashing shiny white teeth. “Don’t worry, everything is above board. Now let’s switch to more pleasant subjects. I think you need a break from all the drama in your world. How’s your father?”
She shifted in her seat and tamped down the irritation at how easily he was able to disconnect from issues that were passionate for her. Still, he was a finance guy, and one who dedicated his money to many different causes. She couldn’t expect him to share all of her views on animal rescue. “Good. He’s been embroiled in words with the President again, but he knows how to smooth things over when needed. Alyssa helps balance him.”
“That’s what a good woman does. I consider my mother the reason for my success. She always supported me, knew how to push, and taught me the value of ethics in today’s world.”
“That’s so nice,” she murmured, liking the way he spoke of his mom. “What about your dad?”
He wrinkled his nose. “Not so much. They’re divorced, but I take good care of her. Give her anything she needs. It’s another reason I connected with you right away. Your close relationship with your dad showed me you have a real sense of family values. I need that in my life.”
A strange foreboding trickled through her. Odd, it was a high compliment, but she felt as if she was being interviewed for being his prospective wife. She forced a laugh. “Well, I’m grateful we’re good now, but we had some rocky times in the past. After losing my mom, it took me a while to find my way. I felt lost for a while, and he was so deep into his run for mayor, we fought a lot.”
“But you realized your mistake and healed the rift. That’s what families do. Forgive. Support each other without question. Isn’t that what you want in your life, Chloe? A partner to share it all?”
She blinked, startled by the intensity in his blue-gray eyes. Drew’s were like a misty storm. Owen’s reminded her of a calm sky that stretched for miles, a safe place to drift, to dream, to be completely herself.
God, what was wrong with her?
“Sure. Down the road, I guess.” She forced a smile. “I still have a lot I want to do before I make any long-term commitment.”
He cocked his head, tapping his finger against his wine glass. “Of course. But I’ve always believed with the right person, you can achieve anything without sacrifice.” He laughed, his eyes crinkling slightly at the corners. “Sorry, didn’t mean to get so serious so quick. I’m known to be a bit intense at times.”
She relaxed. “I can relate.”
“Good. I wanted to see if you’d join me as my date for an upcoming business dinner. It’ll be an intimate event, only a dozen people. I’m holding it at that new French restaurant getting all those rave reviews so it’s still relatively formal.”
“Oh, for the Foundation?”
“No, this one is for my investment corporation. But I promise it won’t be filled with stuffy Wall Street executives. I have a nice mix of people I think you’d enjoy meeting. It’s in two weeks. I can text you all the details.”
She hesitated. She despised spending her precious nights at yet another formal affair, but she’d like to see Drew in his element and get to know more about him and his business. “Of course, I’d love to.”
“Excellent. I’m assuming we’re skipping dessert?”
She’d been looking forward to the tiramisu all night, but figured it would be awkward if she asked for it now. “I’ll have a cappuccino,” she said, hoping they gave her an extra biscotti with it.
“Me, too.” He ordered, and the waiter cleared their table with quick efficiency. Drew’s handsome face softened as he stared at her. “I don’t want this to come off too strong, but I wanted you to know I’ve been thinking about you a lot.” He shook his head, looking adorably self-conscious. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been excited about a woman in my life. I just wanted you to know that.”
Chloe waited for the excited leap in her chest from his declaration, but once again, her heart was disturbingly steady. But maybe that didn’t matter? After all, she was twenty-eight years old, past the age of needing silly physical cues when her head said this man was a good fit for her. Other than a few chaste good-night kisses, they hadn’t slipped into any type of intimacy.
She needed to kiss him tonight. Passionately. Raise the stakes. She refused to screw up an opportunity with a man just because she was stuck on a young boy from her past who didn’t exist anymore.
“Thank you, Drew,” she said, giving him a warm smile. “I’m excited about you, too.”
They sipped their late-night coffee and fell into an easy dialogue. By the time he’d escorted her to his black Mercedes-Benz, Chloe was relaxed. They held hands as he deftly maneuvered through the crowded city streets and unbelievably, found an open parking space on her block. “Score,” he murmured, and she laughed, already turning, her mind focused on him.
He cut the engine. Leaned in. Her hand drifted up to hesitantly touch his face, smooth and stubble free, his square cut jaw straight, full lips, and cut cheekbones straight from a superhero comic. “You’re very handsome,” she whispered.
He chuckled. “Thank you. But you are a work of art.” He stroked her hair. “And it’s officially our fifth date. Would you invite me up?”
Tension stiffened her muscl
es. She wasn’t ready to sleep with him yet. There was something sacred about inviting a man into her bed. When she was young and reckless, she’d made a bunch of bad choices, sleeping with bad boys to prove nothing could hurt her, and it only made a bigger mess in her head. Now she accepted her need to go slow and refused to apologize for it. “I don’t think tonight is a good idea,” she said.
He nodded, taking the rejection with his normal ease. “Got it. Then I’ll just have to show you how you make me feel right here.”
He lowered his head and kissed her.
Chloe responded immediately, allowing her mouth to soften under his, her hands gripping his broad shoulders. He smelled of expensive cologne, a musky, ocean scent that should have driven her crazy. He knew what he was doing, expertly applying the perfect amount of pressure, slowly sliding his tongue with subtle precision, allowing her to warm up. Her body responded like a fine-tuned machine and she sank into the kiss, deliberately shutting her mind down to enjoy the moment.
When he finally lifted his head, satisfaction gleamed in his eyes. “You are delicious,” he muttered. “I can’t wait to see you again.”
“Me, too.” She smiled and grabbed her purse. “I better go. Thanks for dinner.”
“Thanks for saying yes.”
Chloe climbed out of the car and walked to her apartment building. Nodding to Art, the doorman, she took the elevator up to the eighth floor and entered her sacred space. Kicking off her heels, she went straight to her living room, got comfortable, and took out her phone.
He answered on the second ring. “Sweetheart! It’s so good to hear from you. What’s up?”
Begin Again: A Stay Novella Page 3
