Jennifer Fulton Chance

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able to play along with this without missing a beat. As soon as I had
that thought, another scenario presented itself. Had she and Eric cooked
this up between them ahead of time? Was that why she didn t seem
especially surprised by the arrival of her aunt and cousin just in time to
catch us in bed together? It seemed too much of a coincidence that Eric
had just stumbled into my bedroom with his mother first thing in the
morning. He must have known what to expect.
" 104 "
CHANCE
My mouth seemed to fill with sand as this train of thought rattled
irrevocably toward the only logical conclusion. They had planned cold-
bloodedly for Layla to seduce me. I recalled our interaction two evenings
earlier. I had known then that she could see right through me. Had she
confronted Eric with her suspicions? Had he spilled everything, and
had they then hatched a plan to end the fake engagement while making
sure Eric s mother could still fool herself about his sexuality?
The more I thought about it, the more likely it seemed. Layla
hadn t been overcome with desire for me. She hadn t set common sense
aside because she was attracted to me as much as I was to her. She had
simply used her power. Maybe the plan was her idea. She knew I would
be a pushover, and Eric had probably assumed I was so smitten I d be
thrilled to sleep with her no matter how it came about.
I met his eyes and caught a flash of guilt and pleading that told
me my imagination was not running away with me. Humiliated, I said,
Mrs. Standish, I owe you an apology. I was dishonest and behaved
against my better judgment. I should not have come here.
It gave me some comfort to see Eric s eyes widen in panic and his
shoulders tense as he waited to discover what else I was going to say.
Mrs. Standish was gracious. I accept your apology, Chantelle.
You re young and inexperienced, and you were affected by alcohol. I
just hope this situation has taught you something and that you ll carry
this lesson forward into the future. I truly wish you only the best.
She had never wanted me for a daughter-in-law; that much was
obvious. I could see this magnanimous forgiveness didn t cost her too
dearly.
I ve certainly learned my lesson, I said. I m going to take a
shower and pack, then maybe someone could drive me to the airport.
Mrs. Standish said she d speak to the gardener, but Layla
announced, I ll be driving to Los Angeles. I can take you that far, then
you could catch a flight to San Francisco.
Eric shook his head. That won t be necessary. Chance and I
should talk.
No kidding, I said.
He gave me a pleading look. Take all the time you need. I ll wait
downstairs.
He took Mrs. Standish s arm and without another word they swept
from the room. In their wake, Layla and I sat in silence. She avoided
" 105 "
Grace Lennox
my eyes.
I m sorry things turned out this way, she said eventually.
Which way? I decided not to make it easy for her.
She got out of bed and put on her robe. I know you and Eric are
very fond of one another. I hope this doesn t affect your friendship.
I have a question for you, I said, still hoping I was wrong
somehow and that she had not planned this ahead of time. Did Eric
know he was going to find you in my bed this morning?
She took a few steps closer and said, I owe you an explanation.
I caught my breath at the pained candor I saw in her eyes. She seemed
genuinely upset. It s a very difficult situation. There s only so much I
can tell you.
Whatever was going on in this mess of a family, she was hiding
something or protecting someone. I had no idea what or who and I
wasn t sure if I even cared. I just wanted to know if she had any feelings
for me at all or if I had been used from the get-go, first by Eric, then
by her.
You can keep your secrets, I told her coldly, determined not to
be suckered by this show of contrition. I really don t care. But tell me
one thing. Would you have wanted to sleep with me if you and Eric
hadn t cooked up this little family drama for whatever bizarre reason
you had?
She pushed her hair back wearily, and I saw a faint reddish mark
on her throat. I remembered my mouth lingering on that tiny, perfect
inch of flesh and it all rushed back at me. Everything. The hot, wet,
breathless, aching, noisy, urgent feast we d shared. The cries and
kisses. The longing finally assuaged. That same longing was present
once more as I stared at her. Yet it was tinted with bitterness.
Evasively, she said, I don t blame you for being angry. But can t
we agree to just accept last night for what it was? We both had a good
time. Do the hows and whys really matter?
You didn t answer my question.
Eventually she sighed a response to my stony remark. Under
normal circumstances, this probably wouldn t have happened. Okay?
I forced my face muscles to stay very still. With dignity, I said,
Thank you.
She flinched. Chance& please. I like you, and since we re telling
the truth, last night was special. I ll always remember it.
" 106 "
CHANCE
I gave in to a cynical smile at this obvious attempt to soften the
truth. Yep. It s been& unforgettable. And now, if you don t mind, I
have things to do.
I guess this is good-bye. Her voice was husky and tinged with
some emotion I could not identify. Regret? Even if that was what I saw,
I knew I couldn t trust my eyes. For a split second her face seemed to
beam an eloquent plea, then she was serene and Circe-like once more.
I wish you well, Chance.
I gave her a curt nod. Bye, Layla.
She headed for the door and for a single, insane moment I
contemplated running after her and dragging her back to bed so we could
have sex again and prove there was something happening emotionally.
Another fantasy promptly superseded this one: Layla turning around
and rushing across the room to throw herself at me, telling me that she
wanted us to be together without all the lies and games. That she felt
something for me.
Of course, neither of these Hollywood endings happened, and as
the door closed behind her, I felt something crumble inside. Dreams are
fragile, and the siren who d inhabited mine for so long had just tossed a
grenade into the works. Nothing would be the same again.
" 107 "
" 108 "
CHANCE
CHAPTER TEN
used to carry around a four-leaf clover preserved in a block of
Iplastic with For Luck emblazoned on it in gold. My father had
brought it back from Ireland after a pilgrimage to his ancestral haunts.
I imagined Irish families combing bogs for these rare symbols and
selling them as keepsakes. Mom said it was more likely a whole village
had built a cottage industry around gluing the extra leaf on millions of
clovers.
Eventually I came to believe her, for far from stopping a bullet or
ensuring a lottery win, my lucky clover ended up falling into a toilet
bowl at a public bathroom along with my wallet. After the sordid rescue,
I chiseled the token apart to discover once and for all whether it was a
fraud. It was not, which proved that if a genuine good luck charm can
end up in a toilet, we re in more trouble than we thought.
My life bore eloquent testimony to this. I left San Diego dogged
with the awful suspicion that I would spend the rest of my days
lamenting the loss of a woman I d never really had in the first place.
And I was soon to discover that the Fates had something even more
disquieting in store for me.
It was late July and I was at Mrs. Goldman s, trimming between [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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