Chance on Love (34 page)

“I have some really exciting ideas about a format change for our morning broadcast, but first, some positions are going to have to be shuffled around a bit.” Leaning back in her chair, she turned her attention to her workplace nemesis. “Carlene, Carlene...” Stephanie smiled. “Boy, do I have plans for you.”

Carly rolled her eyes. “You’re firing me. Shocking. Just make it official so we can get this over with.”

Stephanie feigned surprise. “
Fire
you?” She tilted her head. “Why in the world would I do that? You’re such an asset to this station.”

Carly frowned. “What?”

“I just think your talents are being wasted with you stuck in such an unglamorous position as News Director.”

She visibly relaxed. “Well, I wasn’t going to say anything, but now that you mention it...”

“I know.” Stephanie closed her eyes and nodded. “I know.”

“I mean, it was a great opportunity and everything, but like you said, I have
so
many talents.”

“Right?” Stephanie was enjoying the hell out of this. “You just have this—this
flair
for performing, and you believe in making yourself totally accessible...”
Tramp.
“I just wouldn’t be able to rest knowing that you’re behind the scenes and not in them.” She bit down on her bottom lip to keep from laughing at Carly’s nearly palpable excitement.

“Yes,” she cried, slapping her hand down on the table.

Kenny lifted his eyebrow just as Amber said, “What the...?”

“And God knows,” Stephanie continued, “you paid enough for that face, it needs to be seen!”

“Yes,” she said, still caught in the throes of excitement. Her smile faltered. She looked around at the people who struggled not to laugh at her expense.

“So,” Stephanie shrugged, “no more boring old News Director for you, Carlene.”

Her face brightened once more. “Morning anchor?” she asked hopefully.

Stephanie frowned.

Carly’s smile slipped a fraction. “Night anchor? I guess going back to nights wouldn’t be so bad.”

“Hmm...” She pretended to consider it before shaking her head. “No. No, you’d definitely be better on mornings.”

“Okay, but if I’m not anchor—”

Stephanie tapped her own nose with the tip of her finger. “No one else has one quite like yours, Carlene.”

Gasping, Carly rubbed her nose. “It’s fine.” She looked around. “It’s fine, right?”

Knowing all too well Carly’s nose was about the only natural thing left on her face, Stephanie grinned. “It’s better than fine—it’s magnificent.” At Carly’s look of confusion, Stephanie elaborated. “You have a nose for news, girl!”

Carly straightened in her chair and smiled. “Oh, thank you.”

“And I was thinking, how can I best utilize this amazing nose of yours, and then it hit me: Carlene’s no News Director, she’s no anchor. What you are is a reporter. Back to basics I say.”

She laughed. Her expression darkened when she realized Stephanie was serious. “A reporter?” Her voice climbed in volume. “Like—like a...
field
reporter?”

“It
would
give you lots of camera time,” Amber said.

Carly threw her a dirty look. “Oh, shut up.”

Amber shrugged. “You try to help some people...”

“Think about it,” Stephanie said, leaning forward as she stared at Carly. “I mean, you have a knack for being in the right place at the right time to get the juiciest stories. And you’re all too happy to share what you’ve learned. That isn’t luck. That’s a gift. Now, I could
never
repay you for all you’ve done, Carlene.” Stephanie winked at her. “But I’m damn well gonna try.”

****

Chewy’s tail wagged a mile a minute as he retrieved the ball. Then, he hopped onto Chance’s lap.

“Only a couple more minutes of this, pal.” Chance sighed as he threw the ball across the office. The dog bounded after it, but immediately turned his attention to the man who’d just come through the door.

Ross Lucas scowled. “What the hell is Chewy doing here?”

Chance leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling. “Playing,” he said dully. He ran his hands down his face. “And doing his part to take my mind off how much I hate it here.”

Ross sat down. “What’s wrong with this place?”

“Nothing.”

“Then why do you hate it here?”

He stopped staring at the ceiling and leveled a steady look at his grandfather. “I just do.”

Ross smiled. “You could always go back to Oklahoma City.”

“And why the hell would I want to do that?”

“Oh, I have
no
idea.”

He gazed at the ceiling once more. “Sarcasm doesn’t suit you, Grandfather.”

The older man chuckled. “Fine. Stop sulking, and go after your woman. Let’s face it. The only thing you hate about this place is the fact that she isn’t here. Well, guess what? That means you’re going to hate every place from here on out.”

Chance smirked. “How perceptive.” He’d be completely pathetic to go crawling back to that woman. And, even then, what the hell was he supposed to say? “Do you hate me? If not, let’s date.” It wasn’t going to happen. She
did
hate him, for one thing. And as for dating... He was way past the point of no return when it came to that. If he could have her—if he
wanted
her—he would want her for life.

Being in love was absolutely horrible.

“I can bring someone else in as interim here if you need to attend to...other matters.”

“I’ll adjust, thanks. Besides, this should be an easy stint. Lord knows I have an assistant who gives me the opposite of trouble.”

“You seem upset about that.”

“I’m not upset. She’s just so— You know, I could ask her to hand wash my car, and she’d probably do it, no questions asked.”

Ross just looked at him.

“That’s...insane,” Chance said.

His grandfather frowned. “Since when do you want subordinates to question you? Having people coddle you has always been a part of your life, boy. It comes with money. You know that. Folks don’t argue with us. They don’t tell us what’s really on their minds, all for fear of offending us—and for fear of what we might do to them if they do.” Ross spread his arms. “That’s just how people are.”

“Not all people,” he mumbled. Chewy jumped onto his lap and he stroked his fur absentmindedly. It was time to focus on a different Stephanie. “She’s very hardworking and capable. I think she’s a good asset to the station.”

“Your assistant?”

He nodded.

“Well, hell, boy. It’s only been a day.” Ross gave him a husky laugh. “You really
are
ready to fly the coop on this one, aren’t you?”

“Her name is Stephanie, Grandfather. Stephanie.”

“So?”

“It’s like a cosmic joke or something. I don’t want any reminders of that woman.”

“What
won’t
remind you of her?” his grandfather asked quietly.

Chance stared down at Chewy, but didn’t answer. He couldn’t.

Sighing, Ross stood. “I’m flying out tonight so I guess I’ll see you in a few months when you get back home.” He walked to the door. “Unless I see you before then for some reason.”

Chance arched his eyebrow. “I’m not leaving New Orleans until this job is done.”

Ross scoffed as he stopped at the door.

“Now,” Chance continued, “you can call it pride or whatever else you like, but I’ve made up my mind. I will
not
do a damn thing I don’t want to do. And that most certainly includes crawling back to Stephanie Love.”

The man smiled and opened the door. “We’ll see. Oh, but if you were to go crawling back, which
of course
you won’t...”

Chance rolled his eyes.

“You may want to take jewelry. It’s always nice to take a little jewelry when you do your crawling. You already got her a necklace so,” Ross shrugged, “something different this time around. You may want to consider a ring.” He walked out. “But something tells me you already have,” he called back just as the door closed.

Groaning, Chance slowly slumped forward until his head hit the desk. Chewy barked in response to the knock on the door not a minute later. “Yeah?”

“Mr. Val— Oh, sir,” Stephanie said. “Are you all right?”

Chance raised his head. “Headache.”

“Aspirin?”

“No, thank you.”

“Okay.” She smiled. “Well, I was about to head out if you didn’t need me for anything else...”

Resting his chin against his palm, he studied her. “Would you mind washing my car, Stephanie?”

“Not at all. At the wash or by hand?”

He laughed. Then, he laughed some more. All the while, she stood there looking confused. He wiped at his eyes as he finally composed himself. “I’m sorry. Long day. Uh, about the car... Never mind.”

After she made her undoubtedly puzzled departure, Chance swiveled in his chair to stare out the window. The sun was sitting low in the sky, steadily sinking beneath the horizon. He glanced down at Chewy. “We have
got
to get the fuck out of here.” His cell phone rang and he picked it up off the desk. “Hello?”

“Hi,” a perky voice said. “It’s Audrey.”

Chance frowned.
Who?
“Uh, hi.”

“Is this a bad time?” she asked in a near whisper.

Oh, yeah. The dog park chick.
“Not at all. This was just...unexpected.”

“Well, I was hoping to see you again, and I realized the perfect time is coming up so...”

“Perfect time?”

“Valentine’s Day—the most romantic time of the year.”

“Right, right...” He hadn’t thought of the day since he’d taken over as music planner for KMLP’s annual party. He couldn’t help but wonder if Lo—
Stephanie
was still planning to attend. And if she did attend, she would undoubtedly have a date.

Some asshole who would certainly try to kiss her at the end of the night—if not more. The mere thought seemed almost absurd. Every single intimate touch of her body, every painfully exquisite shiver, every climax that made her damn near draw blood—belonged to Chance.

“So I was wondering,” Audrey continued, her tone teasing, “are you in the mood for love?”

Love.
He closed his eyes, the memory of the last kiss he’d shared with the delectable grouch came rushing back. If there were anything sweeter than that woman’s mouth, he didn’t know what it was. “I am,” he said softly.

Chapter 40

Affluent people packed the ballroom of the swank hotel. That blasted sixties music streamed out of the room as she walked toward it. Stephanie gave her date a tense smile. “This shouldn’t be too bad—I hope.”

Clayton Morrison the Third, the bastard, greeted her at the entrance to the ballroom by whistling. “Stephanie...” He looked her up and down. “Wow. You look gorgeous.”

She knew she looked relatively presentable tonight. No designer knock-offs for her this time around. She was decked out in duds straight from Rodeo Drive. Though she couldn’t imagine where she would possibly wear such a thing when Chance’s sister had insisted on its purchase, Stephanie was grateful she’d given in and bought the ridiculously expensive dress. Glamorous, chic, but still incredibly sexy, the strapless red gown fit her perfectly.

A mermaid style dress, it hugged her figure snugly all the way to her thighs before flaring out. She’d completed the look as only a woman could—with a necklace that packed enough shine to make these people wish they’d brought shades. She looked down at herself and shrugged. “Thanks,” she muttered before walking past him.

“Steph, wait.”

Biting back a curse, she turned to him. “What?” She was done moping around, feeling heartbroken. Other than missing the schmuck, life was pretty good. As good as it got for her anyway. Anyone expecting a kinder, cheery Stephanie Love, however, was going to be sorely disappointed. If Clay didn’t watch it, he’d end up weeping tears of pain before the night was over.

He gave her a sheepish grin. “I heard you and Chance ended things. I’m sorry that didn’t work out.”

She gave him an impassive look. “Are you?”

“I am.” He cleared his throat. “I mean, well... Are you seeing anyone right now?” He leaned in and dropped his voice to a whisper. “It can’t be this guy, right?”

“Are you...asking me out?”

Clay gave her an earnest look. “Things would be different. I wouldn’t take you for granted ever again.”

She laughed—she threw her head back and laughed.

“Stephanie, I’m serious.” Clay sighed and waited for her laughter to die down. “You didn’t deserve what I did to you before. Let me make it up to you. Please.”

Taking a step toward him, she lowered her voice. “You know what I
do
deserve? I deserve a much better life than the one I’d have with you.” She grabbed her date’s arm. “Let’s go.” Amber waved to her from across the room as soon as they entered. They made their way to her.

“Oh my God, Belinda made this alcoholic punch,” she said, holding up her glass for Stephanie to see, “and it is really, really strong. But so good.” She took a sip as she eyed Stephanie. “You look smokin’ hot, girl. And you still have the necklace. Good for you,” she said, toasting her friend. The words were slightly slurred, and the party had just started.

Oh, Stephanie was
so
getting video evidence of this. “First of all, you’re drunk. Secondly, who the hell is Belinda?”

Amber wrinkled her nose. “I’m not drunk. And Belinda, you know—from payroll.”

She lifted an eyebrow. “Oh yeah, Belinda.” She had no idea who Belinda was, but no way was she prolonging this conversation with her intoxicated friend.

“Ooh,” Amber said, pulling her in by the arm. “Who is this handsome devil? An older man, huh? Very hot. Hot enough to take your mind off Mr. Valentine?” She gave Stephanie an exaggerated wink.

Stephanie grimaced. “Frank, this is Amber. Amber, this is my
father
.”

“Your...oh.” She seemed to sober up pretty quickly just then. “Ew.”

“Exactly.” Stephanie choked down a dry heave that begged for release.

Amber looked at him as her face reddened. “No offense, sir. I didn’t mean ‘ew’ as in you’re unattractive or anything; I just meant ‘ew’ because I thought you were someone Steph was sleeping with.”