Playing for Keeps (5 page)

He shook his head. "No, never had the desire, but I respect the craft."

A middle aged woman, wearing a peach colored baseball cap approached the table and tapped Chance on the shoulder. When he looked up at her she bent down and whispered, "Be careful of your brother."

His face spread into a wide smile that made the woman blush. "Thanks, I will."

The woman patted his shoulder then left.

"You have a real community here," Stacy said impressed, although she found the warning odd. "People know you and worry about you."

He shrugged. "I like it. It can get awkward at times, but when I'm here, I don't have the same hassles as others."

She nodded, not quite knowing what he meant.

Chance leaned forward, resting his arms on the table, his gaze growing intent. "So are you ready now?"

Stacy swallowed feeling her skin grow warm. "Ready?"

"Yes, to tell me what happened."

"No."

"Maybe another time?"

He wanted to see her again? This attractive, funny, smart man wanted to see her again? She felt like dancing, but feigned nonchalance. "Maybe."

Chance stood and put on the baseball cap he'd bought from a street vendor. "Good. Let me walk you home."

"I have to take the subway," she lied. Her car was parked in an underground parking garage, but she didn't want the day to end and hated the thought of saying goodbye. She'd pay whatever price she had to when she picked it up later.

"That's okay, unless you're trying to get rid of me."

Stacy grinned. No, she certainly didn't want to do that. "Let's go."

***

"I'm so glad you're not one of those," Stacy said in a low voice as the subway train rumbled to a stop at a station and two men got off. She'd overheard them talking. One mentioned his job as a bartender and the other talked about a possible audition.

"One of what?" Chance said with a frown.

"One of those two guys."

"Do you have something against bartenders? I was one once."

"I'd dated a guy who tended bar briefly. He was an aspiring writer. I guess that's no surprise. A lot of people come to New York to hit it big. But that's not what I mean. I mean, I'm glad you're not an actor. I'm off of actors."

He paused. "Why?"

"My ex was one and all his friends too. I've been surrounded by needy, self-interested, shallow people for more than I want to remember. Now I want to be with people who are grounded in the real world. Who actually care about what happens in other parts of the globe and not who's dating whom and who's wearing what or what angle is their best side."

Chance laughed, but it sounded a little strained. "Not all actors are like that."

"No, there are different ones of course. The elitist snobs of the stage and the vapid sirens of the screen."

His brows shot up. "Wow, that's rather harsh."

"I'm in a harsh mood. Oh, this is my stop."

Once they were aboveground again Chance said, "I've met some awful actors myself but, they're not all like that. As a whole actors--"

"Are a group unto themselves," Stacy finished. "Guys like you wouldn't understand that."

He tapped his chest. "Guys like me?"

"Yes. Every second sentence isn't about you--it's refreshing."

"Thanks, but as a matter of fact--"

"You're so good natured and down to earth. I told you that I'm a writer and you didn't start asking about who I've worked with or if there's something you could see. You don't care about the directors I know. You don't have that calculating ambition in your eyes. I've told myself I'll never date another actor again."

Chance fell so silent the next several blocks that Stacy regretted her words. Maybe he thought she was too judgmental or condescending. What if he had a friend who was an actor? She didn't want him to think that she'd treat him poorly. "It's not something I usually talk about," she said quickly. "It's just that I feel I can trust you. I know your friend is a producer so you probably have lots of friends who are actors."

Chance shoved his hands in his pockets. "Hmm"

"So what do you do?" she asked, eager to get him talking again.

Chance stared ahead. "How far is your place?"

Stacy pointed to a building up ahead. It was a condo she used when she was in town. Her good mood plummeted. He wanted to get rid of her. He probably wouldn't call her and she didn't blame him. She should have kept her thoughts to herself until she'd gotten to know him better. But maybe it was for the best. She needed to find someone who was not in the industry. "We're here." She held out her hand. "Thanks for a great day."

Chance glanced down at her hand then playfully swatted it away. "I'm walking you to your door."

"You don't have to do that."

He sighed. "Are you really going to pretend that you want me to leave?"

A grin tugged on the side of her mouth. "No, but don't expect anything. You're just walking me to my door. I'm not inviting you in."

He looked up at the building. "What floor do you live on?"

"The tenth."

He grinned and winked at her, making her heart leap. "Then I have nine floors to change your mind."

And he playfully did so all the way up the elevator and as they walked down the hall. Stacy giggled at his exaggerated attempts to get her to let him in as she turned her key in the door. "And the answer is still no."

Chance nodded. "I tried."

"It was a good effort," she said then opened the door and stifled a scream.

"Houdini got loose," Kelly said holding the puppy by the leash. "I just caught him. The bathroom's the worst--I don't think you should go in there," Kelly said as Stacy marched past.

"I want to see it," Stacy said, then regretted the decision when she saw the destruction.

Kelly stopped behind her and shook her head, dismayed. "I'd hoped to have it cleaned up before you got home. I'd confined him to the kitchen so that I could run some errands, but he must have gotten loose."

Stacy looked around and saw what Houdini had done. This was the second time he’d gotten loose, and destroyed things. This time, he had taken hold of several of her prized lipsticks and the damage was evident on her camel leather couch, the Persian wool rug she’d been given as a gift from a gracious actor, and smeared into the Italian marble tiles in the bathroom.

"You need to see your bedroom," Kelly said.

Stacy hesitated, then stormed into her bedroom, pulling a reluctant Houdini by the leash behind her. He was refusing to walk, and she could tell by his posture that he knew he was in big trouble. Her clothes were strewn all over, several of her dresses were ripped, and he had chewed through three pairs of shoes. Stacy gripped her hands and screamed. Houdini yanked so hard on his leash, his collar broke. He dashed under the bed. Stacy threw the leash on the ground and stomped on it. "I should have known my day would end like this! I should never have gotten a dog. What was I thinking? Why did I let her con me into this?" She shook her fists at the ceiling. "Enough already! I have a lying brother, a she devil for a student, a bastard for an ex and I now own a Tasmanian devil for a dog. All I need is for lightning to strike me."

Chance grabbed her wrist. "You don't want that."

She stared up at him, stunned he was still there. She'd forgotten about him. She yanked her hand free. "You don't know me that well."

His gaze hardened. "Calm down."

"Don't tell me what to do in my own house," she snapped, embarrassment making her tone harsh. "He has to go! I brought him here out of the goodness of my heart and this is how I'm repaid," she said patting her chest. "This is what happens when you try to do something nice. When you care about something else besides yourself. I let him into my house, my space and he just takes advantage of me. Destroying things that are important to me. He doesn't care. He doesn't think about anyone else but himself. He's selfish and he has to go."

Chance lifted a brow, resting his hands on his hips. "We're not talking about the dog anymore, are we?"

"Of course we are," Stacy said stumbling over the words.

He shook his head. "Look at him."

"I can hardly see him under the bed."

"Yes, you can," Chance said his voice firm. "Try again."

Stacy looked under the bed and this time she did see Houdini-- shivering, evidence of his terror --- a puddle of pee. Damn, she hadn't meant to terrify him. Nila was wrong, they weren't good for each other. She'd tried three trainers, bought books and digital courses on housetraining a puppy and still he was destructive. Not only did he destroy things, but what she hated most was him racing out the door every time she came home, and having to chase him down the hallway.

"Is that the reaction you want?" Chance said, pointing at the puppy.

Stacy straightened feeling guilty and embarrassed that he'd witnessed her outburst. "No, but--"

"He's bored. He's not being selfish. He's young and has energy to burn and he's frustrated. He's not doing this to you on purpose."

"Do you want a dog? You can have him. He wouldn't know the difference anyway. Feed and shelter him and he'll be loyal to you. Take him. He deserves a new home."

"No."

"Then I'm taking him to a shelter."

"No, you won't."

"Yes, I will." Stacy folded her arms. "Stop telling me what to do."

Chance looked at her for a moment, concerned. "Why are you so angry?"

"You know why I'm angry. He ruined everything!"

Chance shook his head, keeping his voice soft. "No, he didn't. Tell me what's really making you angry."

She gestured to the room. "Look at this mess."

But he didn't look at the mess instead he continued to stare at her.

"Go home."

His jaw twitched, but he didn't move.

Stacy covered her face, unable to meet his assessing gaze. She thought of the custom made bed she'd bought for Houdini, the assortment of toys and treats. She'd even cleared a special spot for him in her office. She'd hired a dog walker to take Houdini for long walks, but nothing mattered. She couldn't even make a ten month old puppy happy. But she didn't want to admit that failure to Chance. "I don't want to be used again. I won't ever let that happen. I won't let someone make me a doormat or a dishrag again. I won't." She took a deep breath feeling more in control. She let her hands fall and glared at him. "This is my house and I make the rules. The dog is going and you can't stop me."

Chance knelt down and coaxed Houdini to come to him then held the puppy up and waved one of his paws. He made his voice sound like a little child's. "Mommy, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you angry."

"Stop that," Stacy said annoyed by how adorable both man and puppy looked.

"Please, don't send me away."

"Chance," Stacy said, irritated that she could already feel her heart softening.

"I promise I'll be better. You're the best Mommy I've ever had."

She folded her arms and shook her head, trying hard not to smile. "No."

Chance made his voice higher and his eyes wide like a hurt little boy. "Pleaseeee?"

"I said stop it."

"Uncle Chance will help us get along. Pretty pleaseee...."

Stacy rolled her eyes then laughed feeling her anger subside. "You're incorrigible."

Chance dropped his voice to his regular level. "Does that mean Houdini gets to stay?"

"Why do you care so much?"

"I asked first."

"I'll give him a reprieve." She held up a finger to make a point. "Just this once, but if he does something like this again he...why are you shaking your head?"

"Because he's young and he's going to make a mistake. If you're not going to keep him then it's best you stop now. Does he have a home here or not?"

"You're not being fair."

Chance blinked at her stunned. "
I'm
not being fair? Did you hear yourself a minute ago? Your puppy got into your makeup case and you went off on him like he was an ex-husband. Didn't you see him trembling?"

"Well, I--"

"Or maybe that was just me. For a moment I pictured you with a sledgehammer--"

Stacy covered his mouth with one hand and pointed at him with the other. "Don't bring that up again," she warned in a low voice.

Chance removed her hand, unfazed by her biting tone. "Has anyone ever told you that you may have some anger issues?"

Stacy sighed knowing he was right. "Okay, maybe I went a little overboard."

Chance's brows shot up. "A little?" He folded his arms. "Do I need to remind you what you did to my car?"

Stacy shook her fists at him. "Why do you keep bringing that up? Besides it wasn't your car and--"

"I'm worried about you."

Stacy stared at him openmouthed. "Worried?"

"Yes, you get angry at the wrong things and in scary ways. Did you ever fight like this with your ex-husband?"

"No." He usually shouted at her, and she stayed silent. She always stayed silent. She only fought back on the page. Deep inside a story was where she felt most herself. "And I have a right to be angry, but you don't understand because you never get angry."

"Of course I do."

"When? I've never seen it."

Chance flashed a quick grin. "You don't know me that well either."

"But you've had plenty of opportunity to lose your temper and you didn't."

He shrugged. "I'm not saying you shouldn't get angry. But you shouldn't be like a Lamborghini going from zero to a hundred in three seconds."

"See?" She leaned against the wall. "I told you I'm not good for him. I'm terrible. I have the emotional stability of a volcano."

Chance frowned. "I didn't say that."

"But that's what you mean. I'm irrational. I have hidden baggage that I'm not dealing with. A therapist told me that once. That's why I have few friends. That's why I'm teaching creative writing to women in detention. That's why a judge ordered me to pay my lousy ex alimony because I'm just not likeable and...where are you going?" She asked when he turned and started to walk away. She followed him. "Oh, did I make you angry? I'm sorry I should be more demur." She watched him grab a glass and go to the sink. He filled it with water and ignored her. "An angry woman is scary to a man," she said.