Chandler: A Standalone Contemporary Romance (17 page)

She raises a brow. “Like you believed me?”

And the knife twists.

I open my mouth, but what can I say? She’s right. I didn’t believe her.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

This time when she tries the knob, I let her leave. There’s nothing else to do. Her cab is already pulling into the drive, and I can’t keep her when she doesn’t want to be here. When I’ve given her no reason to stay.

I watch after her car until the taillights have disappeared down the drive, my emotions twisting and building into a hurricane of despair. Once she’s out of sight, I take off in search of Hudson.

I find him alone in the study.

“This is your fault,” I say, pointing an angry finger at him. “I was happy. You ruined everything.”

His jaw twitches and his mouth tightens. “If you want to blame anyone, blame Celia.”

Sure. That’s easiest. Blame Celia.

But I know deep down the only person to blame for Genevieve leaving is me.

T
he next day
, I lie on the floor, my feet propped on the playroom wall, and with my hands over my heart, I let out a moan.

Mina looks up from the castle she’s building with big block Legos and frowns. “Does your head hurt, Uncle Chandler?”

“No, no.” I rub at my sternum with my knuckles. “My chest. My chest hurts.”

Arin removes the clip she’s placed in my hair and refastens it. She’s sitting above my head so she’s upside down when she peers over me. “Did you get hit with something sharp?”

“I did. Very sharp.” That’s a popular analogy about love, isn’t it? That it’s beautiful but thorny like a rose?

I still can’t believe she left like she did.

For the millionth time, I replay the scene with Genevieve from the day before. She hurt me pretty damn good. But if I’m honest, I wasn’t really very nice myself. “Actually,” I correct, “I was the something sharp.” Sharp tongue, sharp accusations.

After the way I talked to her, no wonder she’s gone.

I moan again.

“I did everything wrong, guys. All wrong.” I’d spent the previous day mad—mad at Genevieve for leaving, mad at her lack of answers, mad at what I was absolutely sure she’d done.
Fuck her
was my mantra by bedtime. Fuck her.

Today, the anger has worn off and the regret has seeped in.

Fuck her, but fuck me too.

With my fingers, I tick off my offenses. “I shouldn’t have snooped. I should have asked her directly. Not in front of everyone. I reacted too quickly. And based on
her
reaction to
my
reaction, I think it’s possible I was wrong about what I reacted to in the first place.”

That’s my emotions talking. I
want
to be wrong.

“Except, I’m not wrong. She texted those pictures. Why else would a person do that?”

“I like to take pictures,” Arin says. Picking up a toy block, she puts it up to one eye and pretends to click. “Smile, Uncle Chandler!”

I pose for the fake camera, but my smile quickly fades. Everything feels wrong. Everything feels terrible. Everything feels pointless.

And nothing makes sense.

“Do you know I actually had to convince her to date me? That’s the first time that’s happened in, like, ever.” I suggested she played aloof on purpose, but how could she really know that would work? “She didn’t even want to come here. She was worried she’d be intruding on the family gathering, and I had to assure her it would be fine. I was wrong. Obviously.”

I sit up to look at my younger niece. “I’m not blaming your father for this, Mina. I could. But he’s not the bad guy in my story.” I said I blamed him, but I can’t. I know Hudson’s just looking out for his wife and kids. Looking out for me.

I lay my head back down. “Frankly, though, neither is Celia. She’s never done anything to me. I barely know the woman. Why would I be wrapped up in her Hudson drama?” Maybe she’s the bad guy in his story, but in mine? In mine, I’m the bad guy.

At least, I feel like the bad guy.

Unless Genevieve is the bad guy. My head says it’s a very likely possibility.

My heart feels quite differently.

My heart remembers how she felt in my arms. How she melted into me when we kissed.
This is fast
, she said, and it felt like she meant it.

“That’s the worst thing,” I say, working through the pit of despair out loud. “I think she might really love me too. The first woman who falls when I do, and I go and f—, uh, muck things up. I mean, she was perfect. We were perfect together. The way we bantered. Our career interests melded. We had similar family backgrounds. And the se—” I catch myself before finishing the s-word. “Well, anyway. You know what I mean. Or you
don’t
know what I mean, but one day you will. The point is, she liked me and I liked her and things were good.”

That’s the part that hurts most. Whether she was working on behalf of someone else or not—I think she actually did fall.

“And then I accused her of doing something terrible. Of
being
something terrible.” Which if she didn’t do anything, well…then I’m a total ass.

I moan again.

I’m miserable.

I’m pathetic.

I’m
heartbroken
.

Mina crawls over to me and puts her hand on my cheek. “It’s okay to make mistakes, Uncle Chandler. You just have to say you’re sorry.”

“I think it will take more than an apology to fix this.”

And then there’s Hudson.

Even if Genny is innocent, even if I could convince her to give me another chance, how could I convince him not to cut us off from his little family?

It doesn’t matter anyway because she’s
not
innocent. Probably.

The door to the playroom opens suddenly, startling me. I turn to see Laynie standing in the doorframe.

Mina runs to her. “Mommy!”

Laynie bends to pick up her daughter then narrows her gaze in my direction. “Are you really spilling your woes to the children?”

“Um…maybe?”

She nods toward the device on the shelf that looks like a walkie-talkie. “The monitor is on. I heard every word.”

I resist the urge to let out another moan. “I’m sorry. Did I say anything inappropriate?”

“No.” She sets Mina down to resume playing and perches on the arm of the child-size loveseat. “You just made me feel extremely guilty.”

“Guilty?” I sit up, shifting my back to the wall so I can face her. “Why?”

My sister-in-law lets out a sigh. “Because I encouraged you to believe the worst about Genny. Or to believe the worst was a possibility, and I didn’t think about the way you feel about her. I’m the one who should be saying I’m sorry.”

I scoff. “You shouldn’t be sorry. I should be sorry. For bringing her into your life.”

Laynie shakes her head. “You couldn’t have known.”

“I should have known. I should have seen the signs. Because there
were
signs that something might be up. I didn’t want to see them.”

She tilts her head at me, her eyes searching. “But do you love her?”

“Yes. Yes, I do. I’m so in love with her.” It hurts more every time I say it. “And I think she’s in love with me. I don’t know what part in our relationship Celia played, but I know how we feel is real. How
I
feel is, anyway. And now I’ve screwed it up too much to know for sure how she really feels or what she did. Not that it matters since Hudson’s made it clear that I have to choose between you guys or her.” I look at my nieces playing. “I could never choose to lose this.”

“I know. I know.” Her face is somber as she considers for a beat. “I think Hudson and I both forgot something important, though.”

I perk up. “What’s that?”

“That people can change. Especially when they’re loved. H and I really should know that better than anyone.”

I have a feeling she’s talking about something personal, but all I care about is what she’s saying about Genny and me. I sit forward. “You mean…even if she did get close to me because of Celia—”

Laynie cuts me off. “I mean that whatever point she started at, she could have had a change of heart.”

I’d thought the same, but Laynie saying it now gives me permission to dwell on it. What if she did start out as Celia’s spy, fell in love, and then didn’t want to go through with it? It would explain why she looked so hurt, and maybe why she left so hastily. She might have felt too guilty to discuss it.

I wish she would have, though. I probably would have forgiven her.

That thought hits me hard. I definitely would have forgiven her. Which means, I
do
forgive her. Because whether or not she loves me, I love her. And since I am the one thing I can control, all that matters is how I feel. What I do.

“So what do I do now?” I ask Laynie since I for shit don’t know.

“I’m probably going to regret saying this, but,” she takes a deep breath before continuing. “Forget about Hudson’s ultimatum. Go after what you love. I’ll, for one, support you. It might take time, but I can work on my husband.”

I shake my head. “You can’t do that for me. I don’t want to cause tension in your marriage.”

“Don’t worry about us. We’ve overcome worse.”

For half a second I’m hopeful. Like maybe this could actually work out, and I could win the girl back.

Then I remember there’s more to the problem. “That’s sweet of you, Laynie, but it’s a no go. She’ll be leaving the country now that the Accelecom merger has fallen through. The only way to keep her here would be…” I trail off as an idea starts to form. A long shot of an idea, but an idea nonetheless.

I stand up abruptly, almost knocking over a tower of blocks next to me. “I think I know what I need to do.” Not just because I want a chance to win her back, but because it’s the thing that should have been done all along.

“That’s the spirit!” Laynie exclaims. “Where are you going?”

I’m already halfway out the door, but I peek back in to answer her. “I have to get to town. There’s a lot of work to do before we’re back in the office tomorrow.” As an afterthought, I run in and give her a giant hug. “Thank you, Laynie. You’re a great sister.”

In no time, I’m packed and on the road back to the city, my head working overtime as I try to tackle the details of the plan that’s emerging.

Just one problem I can see at the moment—if this works out the way I want it to, I’m going to have to have Hudson on board.

Yeah. I know.

* * *

T
uesday after the holiday weekend
, I’m in Hudson’s office first thing. I enter through his lobby this time—I know when to have tact—but the door is open, and his secretary isn’t at her desk so I breeze on in.

“Good morning, Trish,” I say when I see her standing over my brother’s desk, giving him a rundown of his day. “You’re looking fabulous. New dress?”

She beams. “It’s a new hairstyle. I wasn’t so sure about it.”

“It’s absolutely perfect,” I assure her, stalling before I have to address my brother.

I’ll admit it—I’m nervous. I spent all of the night before gathering the information I need to make the proposal I’d like to make, and I’ve got a solid game plan. One that deserves to be heard.

Still, it’s Hudson.

“You know,” he says, acknowledging me without looking up from his paper, “it’s customary for people to schedule meetings with my secretary instead of bursting in unannounced.”

“Trish, can you add me to the agenda?” I glance over her shoulder and see that, fortunately for me, Hudson’s calendar is clear until nine-thirty. “Just pencil me in right now. And hold all his calls, please.”

Trish likes me, but she knows who pays her salary. “Mr. Pierce?” She raises a brow in my brother’s direction.

Hudson concedes. “It’s fine, Patricia. You may go.”

I sink into the chair in front of him. “I guess it’s too much to expect coffee,” I say, causing Trish to halt on her way out of the room.

“He doesn’t need anything,” Hudson says, shooing her away. “If you want coffee, go bother your own secretary.”

“Huh. What an idea. I’ll try that sometime.” Usually, I stop and grab coffee from Trish on my way down to my office, but that’s not something he needs to know. “Anyway, the reason I’m here—”

“You’ve had second thoughts about Genevieve,” he says, cutting me off. “Alayna told me.”

“Really?” Man, that woman’s fast. “What exactly did she say?”

“That you want to give her another chance.”

“And you’ll support that?” My heart thumps in my chest. This can’t be that easy, can it?

“No. My position stands, same as before.”

I throw my head back. “Come on, H. How can you be so stubborn about this?” Ten seconds into my proposal, and I’m already off script. Well, I’ve always been better at improvising. Might as well go with it. “Don’t you believe that a person can change?”

“It’s possible, yes—”

I clap my hands together. “Exactly! Then why can’t you believe that Genevieve could change?”

“You believe she’s changed? Then she admitted she was working for Celia in the first place?”

“No, she didn’t. But if she
had
been working for Celia, isn’t it possible that she could change her mind?”

“Celia doesn’t let people out of her schemes.” He sounds like he’s speaking from experience.

“Maybe she doesn’t. I don’t know about that. But I do know how I feel about Genny. And I’m pretty sure she feels the same, no matter who she might have been working for.”

“
Pretty sure
is not
knowing
,” he says, straightening a pile of papers that doesn’t need straightening.

I sigh. “You’re right. It’s not. But I love her. And I don’t believe you can truly love a person without trust. So I’m choosing to trust her.”

Something I’ve said catches his attention, and Hudson looks up at me.

I sit forward, taking advantage of his focus. “Okay, I know that you have reason to be skeptical where Celia is concerned, but from what I understand, you were once caught up in the same games she’s in and look at you now. You aren’t very forthcoming with your past, but let me guess that who you are today has every bit to do with being loved by Laynie. And I know she trusts you, heart and soul.”