Holding Her Breath (Indigo) (33 page)

“It’s about Whitney, huh? That’s why you’re like this?” Rob said as if reading Chace’s mind.

He shrugged.

“You should talk to her, man.”

“What makes you think that? Wait, did she say something?”

“You know I try my hardest to stay out of the crazy you two have created. We don’t talk about you two just like you and me don’t talk about it. But let’s just say I think that if you called her, she’d talk to you.”

“You think she misses me?”

Rob flopped onto the couch. “I think she’s not any happier about the situation than you are.”

“You know what? I don’t want to call her,” Chace said. He held up his hand when Rob started to protest. “Hold on, hear me out. I don’t think that’s enough. You think you can convince her to come to my show?”

“This mysterious show you won’t tell me anything about hardly besides the gallery’s location?”

“Yeah.”

“I guess. I’m like the official go-between for you guys, huh? First her with the cooking disaster, and now you.”

“You’d be doing me a huge favor.”

“I know.” Rob grinned. “Sure. For the two of you? And the chance of not seeing either of you mope anymore? I’d do almost anything.”

“Thanks, man.”

“Yeah, well, I’m just tired of you moping around here, always on this couch.” Rob walked into the kitchen, singing “Matchmaker” from
Fiddler on the Roof
.

Laughing to himself and feeling a little better, Chace went to take a shower and get ready for work since he had the nightshift. They were catering some sort of awards ceremony that evening.

When Chace walked back into his room, still rubbing excess water out of his hair with a towel, his phone was vibrating on his desk. It was Kelly calling.

“Great,” he muttered. “Wonderful.”

He’d been working all day with June to get things together for the show, and he was going to have to spend all night at work. He really wasn’t in the mood to deal with nonsense. She’d better actually want something.

“Yeah, Kelly?” Chace sighed into the phone.

“Somebody’s in a mood.”

“I’m tired. Did you actually call to say something or you just want to babble?”

“Oh, I think you’ll want to hear what I have to say.”

Chace held the phone to his ear with a shaking hand. He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

* * *

Rob and Erika thought Whitney had made a good decision when it came to her career change. They told her she was already starting to look less miserable on a daily basis. She did feel a lot better.

However, they thought she’d made a really bad decision about Chace. She was having trouble convincing herself that they were wrong. He hadn’t even tried to call her, though. Calling him was out of the question. He’d lied to her. He’d been in the wrong, not her. She wasn’t even sure she wanted him to call. The fact that he hadn’t called was probably a good thing.

She sat on her couch between Rob and Erika. They’d come over saying they wanted to watch a movie, but they had ulterior motives. The whole time they’d been making little hints about Chace. When she’d asked them to please stop talking about him, they dropped the bomb—they told her the real reason they were there. As subversives for Chace.

They wanted her to come to his show at a downtown gallery. Admittedly, she was impressed that he’d gotten the show and gotten an “in” with June—an heiress and up-and-comer in the photography world who’d recently opened her own gallery.

But she refused to go. There was no reason she wanted to see him—well, there was no way she would go see him, anyway.

Rob groaned and sank lower on the couch. “What would it hurt to come to his show? He really wants you there.”

“Yeah, Whit,” Erika said. “You haven’t even seen the guy in weeks. If you do this and you decide it’s the worst most horrible idea ever, you can leave. It’s a huge, public place. We’ll be surrounded by lots of people. You don’t even have to talk to him if you really don’t want to.”

“Yeah, and it’s not like my apartment, which you’ve been avoiding like the plague, and don’t think I haven’t noticed,” Rob said. “It wouldn’t have to be awkward and just you two. There’s going to be a lot of people at this thing. I mean, did you see that spread that June was able to get for him in the
Post
?”

She had seen it. She wondered darkly if he’d done anything special for that spread in the Arts section. Then she was ashamed of herself for thinking it. Chace would never even consider something like that.

“I’m glad he’s doing well,” she said. She stared at the movie she hadn’t been following at all instead of looking at either of them.

“Then why don’t you show your support, if nothing else? If the two of you happen to talk…you talk,” Rob said.

“Okay. I’ll go. To support his art. Because I think he’s a good artist. And that is the only reason I’m going.” She looked at her friends.

Erika and Rob exchanged looks.

“What?” she asked them.

“Huh?” Rob said.

“What was that?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

Erika turned innocent eyes on her. “What was what?”

“The look business. What were those looks you two were giving each other?”

“Oh, nothing. Stop being paranoid,” Erika said.

Whitney leaned back against the couch and looked at the two of them again. They had turned back to the movie and turned the conversation back to it as well. She didn’t know what they were up to, but if they expected anything to come of her going to Chace’s show, they were going to be sorely disappointed.

Whatever that craziness with Chace had been, it was over. She didn’t regret it, but it was over. She didn’t blame him anymore for what she’d known at heart had never been his fault, but she couldn’t get past him keeping the fact that he might have had a child secret, no matter why he’d done it. Besides, there was always the chance that he would want to be with the mother of his child—even if he didn’t think so yet. What if he changed his mind after the baby was born?

And if he did abandon the baby, he wouldn’t be any better than her father had been. She didn’t want to be with a man like her father.

Rob drove. Whitney sat in the backseat of the car, glaring at the backs of Rob’s and Erika’s heads. Although she’d agreed to go, that didn’t make her any more enthusiastic about it. She’d trudged around the apartment as they attempted to get her out of the door. Finally, they’d had to almost pry her fingers from the door frame and push her downstairs.

The gallery was near Chinatown. She, Rob, and Erika walked up to the door after parking in a nearby lot designated that night for special guests of the artist.

Whitney wore a simple knee-length dress with a scoop neckline under her coat. She’d paired it with black knee-high boots that had three inch heels. She wanted to keep it simple and tasteful, not look like she was trying too hard, but also make Chace know what he was missing and regret losing it.

Whitney put a hand over Rob’s as he started to pull open the door to the gallery. “You said we could leave the moment it gets awkward, right?”

Rob nodded emphatically. “Absolutely. I promise.”

“Let’s go in. Do y’all not know it’s freezing out here?” Erika said, brushing both of their hands aside and opening the door to the gallery.

Whitney’s heels clicked against the shiny hardwood floor and her eyes swept over the white walls featuring black and white photographs. Rob handed her a brochure and she saw the title, “It’s Not So Black and White,” but didn’t pay attention to anything else about it.

Rob and Erika mumbled about having a look around and slipped off before she could say anything. They weren’t slick. If things didn’t go well, she would find them, grab them, and be out of there before they could say “cheese.” Tapping the brochure in the open palm of her opposite hand, she scanned the crowd until her eyes landed on him.

Breathtaking, hurt-her-heart gorgeous. What had she expected? Chace wore a black shirt unbuttoned at the throat under a tan blazer that seemed to have been made for him even though she doubted he would have something tailored. His dark wash designer jeans were pressed and creased. And he wore the loafers she remembered from Valentine’s Day. He was talking and laughing with a woman Whitney recognized as a mutual friend of Rob and Ulrich’s. Ulrich knew her from college and Rob from his super secret double life.

Sometimes it seemed as if Rob knew everyone in the city, which was clearly impossible. Except maybe for someone like Rob. The woman was part socialite, part local art critic. Her opinion was highly respected in the city and beyond. Even a bad review from her was good news. And Chace’s charm alone was probably enough to make the review go well. Besides that, he had real talent.

Speaking of his talent, she moved further into the room and took her first real look at the photographs. What she saw froze her to the spot in shock. That was because what she saw was herself.

She put a hand over her heart. It was her. Everywhere. Crying. Laughing. Frustrated. In love. Every single photograph was beautiful. She’d never seen a better photograph of herself anywhere. She wouldn’t have considered herself art until that moment. But the best photos—even though there were only three in the whole collection—were the ones with Chace. The two of them in bed together. Holding each other on her balcony. And him trying to shove a disgusting hotdog piled with relish, mustard, and other unsavory things into her mouth, both of them laughing. Her watery smile broadened. That was the best one.

“Oh, Chace. If only—why?” She reached out to touch the glass of the frame, catching herself just in time after forgetting where she was and what she was doing. She pulled her hands back and placed them on either side of her neck.

“I don’t know. But I want things to go back to the way they were,” Chace said. “I want you.”

She gasped and turned around. She’d had no idea he’d been standing right behind her. “You heard that? I was talking to myself.”

He took a step closer. “It sounded like you were talking to me.”

She smiled. “I quit Gibson and Grey. I’m happier. You were right.”

He nodded. Then he reached for her, coming within inches of her arm before dropping his hand back to his side. “I’m sorry for hurting you. And lying to you.”

“I’m sorry for jumping all over you like I did. And for hurting you, too.” The words tumbled out of her mouth before she could think them through properly. “But you were still wrong for not telling me.”

“I know. But I want you to know that the baby’s not mine.”

Whitney looked down at her hands as he wrapped his around them. Then she looked up into his ice blue eyes. The place where she’d fallen in love for the first time. And the only time she wanted to. Ever. “It’s not?”

“Whitney, all I want is you. That would be true even if it was mine. I haven’t been able to think of anything else. Maybe you can tell that if you have a look around this place.” He gestured around the room at the photographs.

Her eyes filled with tears. He slipped his finger between her skin and the gold necklace she wore. He traced a pattern over her collarbone. She’d never wanted anything more than she wanted to be held by him. Relief overcame her as he pulled her against his chest and squeezed. Hard.

“I’m so sorry I pushed you away,” she said.

“Shh. We’re together now. And that’s all that matters.”

She smiled up at him and continued smiling as he brushed his lips against hers. “You’re right. It’s the only thing that does.”

“I want to put a ring on this finger.” Chace kissed the ring finger of her left hand.

“And what’s stopping you?”

“I guess nothing now.” He leaned in close. “Whitney Jones. Will you marry me?” He brushed his thumb against her ear.

She looked up at him, feeling like her face would crack if she couldn’t wipe the grin off for at least a few seconds. But she couldn’t. “Chace Murphy. How could I say ‘no’ to that?”

His whole face brightened with his smile. “Good. My brother and his family are coming tonight. So are my parents. They’re all stuck in traffic right now. You can meet them. We can tell them tonight.”

She rested her head against his shoulder. “Good.”

“So are going to call your family?” he asked.

“In a minute. This is your night. This show is amazing, by the way. You really have a gift.”

“None of this would exist without you, Beautiful Whitney.” He put a hand behind her neck, pulling her close, and kissed her. “And you’re wrong. It’s our night, not mine. I want to call them. Right now.” His hands slipped to her shoulders.

“Okay.” Blushing and beaming, Whitney dialed her mother’s number and handed the phone to Chace. “You’re going to have to do it. I can barely speak right now.”

Chace took the phone from her and kissed her cheek. “Hi. Ms. Jones? Oh, sorry, this is Chace Murphy. Yeah, exactly, that’s me.” He laughed at something and hugged Whitney close. “Sure did. I’m calling to tell you that you have the most wonderful daughter in the world. But of course you already know that. But there’s another reason I’m calling. I’ve asked this wonderful daughter of yours to marry me and you know what she said? I still can’t believe it. She said yes.”