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The Baby Clause: A Christmas Romance by Tara Wylde, Holly Hart (47)

64

16. CHANCE

My phone buzzes on the polished surface of my desk right at 8:30 a.m., almost twelve hours to the minute after I woke up last night and realized I needed to take a whole different approach to the situation if I want to hold onto Atlas.

The text is what I expected: She’s here.

I take a quick glance in the mirror on the wall as I head for my office door: Not too shabby. Satin shirt with an extra button open and my favorite slacks, the ones a woman once said made my ass look like two golf balls wrapped in a handkerchief.

Get ready, Sara Bishop. You’re about to meet the all-new Chance.

I turn left in the hallway, toward the lobby. As planned, I almost walk right into Sara.

Oh!” she says, obviously startled. “Sorry. I almost ran into you again. I need to stop doing that.”

It’s showtime.

“It’s my fault,” I say, taking a moment to admire the curve-hugging green dress she’s wearing. “And I don’t mean just this. I mean yesterday. I’m really sorry, Sara.”

Her sapphire eyes blink like an owl’s. I’ve caught her off guard. Good.

“Uh,” she says. “Really, you don’t have anything to be sorry for.”

“Yes, I do. I was petty, and as a Marine, I should expect better from myself.”

“It’s understandable. I mean, it was the first time we’ve seen each other since… well, you know.”

I nod. “Still, I should have left bygones in the past and just told you how happy I was to see you. Because I was, you know.”

That’s it, Chance. Lay it on thick.

Her eyes are still wide. “You were?”

“Of course. I still am, Sara. We meant a lot to each other for a long time. What happened between us that one night fifteen years ago doesn’t change everything that came before it.”

Okay, Chance, settle down before you start believing this stuff yourself.

She smiles. “I’m really glad to hear you say that. And I want you to know, this isn’t personal at all. It’s just business.”

“Of course. And I want you to feel welcome here at Atlas. Whatever you need, just ask Tre and he’ll make it happen for you.”

“That will make things a lot easier,” she says, looking relieved. “The sooner I can get done with this, the sooner I can tell Quentin that he’s chasing his tail. You’re the most honorable person I’ve ever known, Chance.”

That catches me off guard and makes me suddenly wistful for those days. It was a tough life, sure, but at least it wasn’t overshadowed by secrets and lies.

Shake it off, Chance. I know that Pearce is definitely not chasing his tail, but there’s no way in hell I’m ever going to let him know that.

“That’d suit me just fine,” I say. “I’m sorry about how I acted yesterday; I just don’t like the guy.”

Sara leans in close. “I don’t think anyone does,” she whispers. “Including me.”

That’s good to know, but hardly surprising. After I gave myself some time to think about it last night, I realized that Sara wouldn’t have taken the job to get back at me. She’s not like that.

“He really is a shit, isn’t he?”

“I refuse to answer on the grounds that it may incriminate me.”

I grin. “Then let’s stop talking about him. Feel free to do what you have to do, and if anyone here has a problem with you, tell them I said to take it up with me.”

“I’m sure it won’t come to that,” she says with a smile of her own.

I snap my fingers. “Hey, are you free tonight? I was thinking maybe we could catch up over dinner.”

“Sure,” she says, obviously surprised. “I’d really like that.”

“Great,” I say. “I’m looking forward to it.”

“Where should we meet?”

“Give me an address and I’ll have my driver come and pick you up.”

She taps her phone a few times and I hear a ding. The screen of my mobile shows her contact info.

“You gave me your cell number yesterday,” she says sheepishly.

“And I’m glad I did. Get in touch anytime.”

“Okay,” she says, still smiling

“Awesome,” I say. Why do I feel like a teenager who finally got his crush to go out with him?

“See you tonight.” She turns and walks down the hall, then stops and turns back to me with a little wave.

I wave back, grinning like an idiot.

Smarten up, Marine! This isn’t high school!

She disappears around the corner, leaving me to stand there and wonder what the hell I’m getting into.