Chance Read online

  CHANCE

  A Novel

  New York Times & USA Today Bestselling Author

  Deborah Bladon

  COPYRIGHT

  First Original Edition, April 2015

  Copyright © 2015 by Deborah Bladon

  ISBN: 9781926440248

  Cover Design by Wolf & Eagle Media

  This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is entirely coincidental. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and situations either are the product of the author's imagination or are used factiously.

  All rights reserved. No parts of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without written consent from the author.

  Also by Deborah Bladon

  The Obsessed Series

  The Exposed Series

  The Pulse Series

  The VAIN Series

  The RUIN Series

  IMPULSE

  SOLO

  The GONE Series

  FUSE

  The Trace Series

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Epilogue

  Coming Soon by Deborah Bladon

  VAIN – Featuring Noah Foster

  RUIN – Featuring Ben Foster

  Thank You

  Subscribe to Deborah’s Mailing List

  About the Author

  Chapter 1

  "You're telling me that I've never fucked you?"

  You'd think I'd walk away at this point. It would make sense for me to turn on my heel and march out of his apartment. I'm not even sure why I'm here.

  Today started out like any other day. I woke up and then I had a glass of orange juice after I brushed my teeth. I cursed myself for doing that and vowed that tomorrow I'd drink the orange juice before I brushed my teeth. I dressed in a navy blue pencil skirt and a pale blue blouse. I'd let my dark brown hair fall in waves down my back and I'd hurried to make the subway train before it sped uptown. I walked through the door of my office at precisely two minutes before nine. It was the same routine I followed every single day.

  I spent my morning in meetings with the development team and I had lunch with the owner of the company. He'd been focused on his phone. It's normal for him. He can't resist his wife and whenever she texts or calls him, the world, as he knows it, halts on its axis.

  Once I got back to my office, I settled in at my desk to go over last month's budget. It was exactly five minutes to two when my phone rang and I dropped everything to get in a taxi to come here. I'm in a spacious apartment on Park Avenue, sitting across from the one man who has popped in and out of my life since I was a child.

  "Caleb," I say his name as I cross my arms over my chest. "What the hell was the emergency? Why am I even here?"

  His finger darts into the air to silence me. It's a gesture that he knows I can't stand. He's pushing me and if I thought it would benefit me at all, I'd push him right back. I know his game though. I know exactly what's going on.

  "I have to go." His deep voice fills the room. "I'll call you later, baby."

  I shake my head slightly as he ends the call. "If you called me down here so I could listen to you talk to some woman who can't remember being fucked by you, I have better things to do with my time."

  "I didn't fuck her." He pushes his chair back from the desk as he crosses his long legs. "If I had, she'd remember it."

  I cover my face with my hands. "I have a lot to do today. I have to get back to my office."

  "Why haven't you quit that job yet, Rowan?" His hand darts into the air. "I need you to work with me. I'm prepared to sweeten the offer."

  "What offer?" I fumble inside my purse for my smartphone. "You know I'm never going to work for you."

  "I know that you will one day." He stands quickly, pulling his large frame up. "Tell me what they're paying you at Corteck and I'll double it."

  "I'm not telling you how much money I make." I scan my phone, reading the new emails that have come in since I left the office almost an hour ago. "When have I ever told you how much money I make?"

  "When you worked at that fast food place right before you graduated from high school," he points out. "I told you my professor assigned a project about young people in the workplace and you let me interview you."

  "You were such an asshole." I don't look up from my phone. "You were twenty-two, Caleb. You should have been partying hard. Instead you were harassing me."

  "I was curious." He rounds the desk. "I wanted you to come and work for me then, don't you remember?"

  I do remember. I remember how envious I was that he was able to work for his father and that he was pulling in more money than my parents were making combined. Caleb Foster has never had to do an honest day's work in his life and he's still trying to get me to pick up the slack for him.

  "I like my job at Corteck. I work in a real office." I scan the home office we're standing in. "Don't you ever actually go into the office building that has your last name plastered all over the front of it?"

  "You mean that one you pass every day when you go to your job at Corteck?"

  "I need to leave," I say briskly. "Don’t keep calling me down here for nothing. I have a job to do."

  "One day you're going to ditch all that so you can work with me." He grabs my arm as I walk past him.

  I stare up into his face. His body may have changed since we were children but the same glint in his dark eyes that I saw when he chased me around the playground is still there. His short hair is a darker shade of brown now than it used to be. There's no denying that he's gorgeous. He knows it and he uses it at every opportunity. He's tall and muscular and if I didn't know him as well as I do, I might even label him as emotionally dangerous. It's the reason I've always avoided getting romantically entangled with him. Caleb breaks hearts whether he's aware of it or not.

  "I'm leaving." I pull my arm free of his grasp. "Don't call me again unless you actually need something from me. I'm tired of you wasting my time."

  'You don't mean that Rowan." He moves in step beside me. "You don't actually mean that you'd rather I don't call you."

  "I mean exactly that." I pat him on the chest. "You can't just interrupt my life for your bullshit."

  He presses the call button for the elevator. "It's not bullshit. I'm hurt that you think that's what it is."

  I sense the grin on his handsome
face before I see it. "Why am I even here? You could have offered me the job on the phone."

  "You always say no when I ask you on the phone."

  "That's because I'm never going to work for you." I push the call button again. "Is the elevator broken again?"

  "It looks that way." He gestures towards a door a few feet from us. "You can take the stairs or you can wait until they fix it."

  "I have a lot to do today. I can do the stairs."

  I follow him through the doorway into a long and narrow hallway. "Do you want me to walk down with you?" He raises a brow.

  "I'll be fine." I reach to open the door to the stairway but it doesn't budge. "Is this broken too? You'd think a building on Park Avenue would have a better maintenance man."

  "The door is fine." He grabs hold of the door handle and gives it a quick twist. He swings it open effortlessly. "You're sure you don't want me to walk down with you?"

  "Of course not." I brush past him into the stairwell. "Promise me you're not going to keep calling me for nothing. I have important things going on in my life right now."

  "More important than me?" He swings his arms in the air as he walks into the small space. "Don't try and tell me that our friendship doesn't mean everything to you, Rowan."

  "It doesn't." l laugh as I look up at him. "You know that it doesn't."

  "You've broken my heart." He pulls both hands to his chest as he takes a heavy step back. "You can hear it breaking, can't you?"

  I turn towards the concrete stairs. "I came here for nothing. I need to get back to work."

  "Wait." He pulls lightly on the side of my skirt. "There is something I need to tell you."

  I roll my eyes. "Why do you insist on wasting my time? It's just a game to you. You're lucky my boss doesn't care when I leave in the middle of the day."

  "This isn't a game." He swallows hard. "I do need to tell you something. I have to tell you something. I just don't know how to."

  I've known Caleb Foster my entire life. I know the instant when something is wrong. A sudden darkness has overtaken his face. It's not just the lighting in this dim and musty stairwell.

  "Row." His jaw tightens. "I'm sorry, Rowan. I can't believe I have to tell you this."

  "Tell me what?" I grab onto the lapel of his suit jacket. "Just tell me. You're scaring me now."

  His hands clench at his sides. His lips move faintly but nothing comes out.

  "Caleb, tell me."

  He cups his fingers around my chin and looks directly into my eyes. "Promise me you'll still be my friend when I tell you. Promise me you won't stop talking to me."

  "I promise," I whisper softly. "I'll always be your friend."

  "You're the only person I can tell this to. You're the only person who'll understand," he starts before he pauses to draw in a deep breath.

  I feel my face heating. I know that the words that he's about to say to me are going to impact me deeply. I see it in his expression and I feel it in his touch. I don't like being this close to him. I've learned skillfully how to avoid being alone with him. He makes me feel things I don't want to acknowledge. I may be able to convince him that he's just a good friend when we're sitting in a room filled with others, or when there's a desk between us. When we're like this, alone, without the welcome barrier of other people or things, I feel vulnerable and exposed.

  I lick my bottom lip. I want to say something that will coax the truth out of him. The tone of his voice gave absolutely nothing away when he called me earlier. He didn't sound panicked. There was no urgency woven into his words. He simply and directly told me he needed me and I came. I always come when Caleb needs me and he's never failed to race to me if I need him.

  His brow furrows slightly as he stares at my lips. His own tongue darts out and for the briefest of moments I wonder if he's about to lean down to swipe his full lips over mine. He shakes his head slightly before he tips his head back to look at the grey painted ceiling of the stairwell.

  "Just tell me," I whisper. "What is it? Did you do something?"

  "I was pushed into a corner," he pauses as his hand drops to his side. "He didn't leave me a choice."

  My eyes fall to the floor. I brace myself for what I know is coming next. I don't know why I didn't see the freight train that is Caleb's completely dysfunctional family barreling down the track right towards me. The brothers haven't gotten into an argument in weeks. That's what this is about. It has to be. "It's Asher, isn't it? Is he alright?"

  "He's fine," he says through a heavy sigh. "Give me a minute to explain and I'll…"

  My stomach twists into a tight knot as I brush past him to reach for the handrail. "What happened? What did you do to him? Is he at the office?"

  "Don't go." He gestures towards the concrete stairs. "We need to talk about this. I need you to understand what he did."

  "You know how hard it's been for him." I spit out the words. "What if he starts using again? He's been clean for almost six months. "

  "I'm not responsible for his choices." He tugs at my elbow. "It's his own fault that he was arrested."

  "He was arrested?" I turn so quickly on my heel that I have to reach for his arm to find my balance. "When was he arrested?"

  "It was right before noon at the corporate office." His jaw tightens. "We didn't have a choice. He was out of control."

  "No." I push against his hands but his grasp doesn't lessen at all. "You didn't do that to him. Tell me you didn't have your brother arrested."

  "Technically I wasn't the one who made the call to the police," he points out. "My assistant did it."

  "Don't do that." I stomp my foot against the concrete floor in exasperation. "Don't divert. Why would you do something like that? We're supposed to be helping him."

  "I have gone out of my way to help him." His hand flexes as he grips the handrail. "I've done more for him than anyone else ever has."

  The words bite through me. Caleb knows that I carry a burden of guilt with me. I wasn't there for Asher when he needed me in college. I'd turned my back on him at a time when he felt desperately alone. I've never forgiven myself for it.

  "You had him arrested, Caleb." I push my finger into his hard chest. "How the hell is that helping him?"

  "He was lashing out." He grabs my hand and holds it tightly in his. "I had to step in before he hurt himself or someone else."

  "This is unbelievable." I feel my pulse race as I yank my hand free. "I can't believe you'd do this."

  "Believe it." He turns towards the door of the stairwell. "He's in jail and this time he's going to have to figure it out on his own."

  Chapter 2

  "Does Gabriel know?" I follow Caleb's large frame back into his apartment. "Gabriel will know what to do."

  "Gabriel is in Italy." His hands run over the lapels of his dark grey suit jacket as he turns to look at me. "He doesn't need to know about this. It's been handled. That’s final."

  I lower myself into one of the chairs in Caleb's living room. The apartment he lives in is extravagant, yet tastefully decorated. Caleb flaunts his wealth. He's never been ashamed of the fact that his parents built a clothing empire from the ground up. They had handed the keys to their fashion kingdom to their three sons when they divorced. Gabriel, Caleb's older brother, had taken over much of the day-to-day duties. His head is always in the game, which explains why he's in Italy. Right now, it is fashion week in Milan and one of the designers they brought on board last year is making big waves.

  Asher, Caleb's younger brother, couldn't shoulder the responsibility that came with being thrown into the position of Director of Sales before he even graduated from college. He was still reeling from his parents' divorce when he was forced to take on a corporate role he wasn't ready for. The luxuries and attention that came with the position were too much and he'd fallen into a life that was filled with reckless abandon. He was rarely lucid and would spend days locked in his apartment with women he'd pick up in clubs and the drugs they brought with them. Gabriel had been able
to convince Asher to check himself into a rehab facility nine months ago. He'd come back refreshed, strong and determined to make both of his parents proud. Although Caleb and he didn't always agree on business dealings, they both have the same focus, which is building and expanding the brand their parents began.

  "We have to tell Gabriel," I point out as I begin to tap out a text message to Gabriel Foster on my smartphone. "He'd want to know. He's so close to Asher."

  I don't look up as I feel him approach me. I know the words have to sting him. Caleb's sole focus for much of his adult life has been the business. He'd watched his twenty-three-year old brother come apart at the seams and the only thing he seemed concerned about at the time was keeping it all away from the sharp eye of the media and the judgmental glances of the public. Keeping the Foster brand untarnished had been his main goal and it had splintered his relationship with his family whether he wants to admit it or not.

  "Don't text Gabriel." He gestures towards my phone. "I need him in Milan. If he comes back here, he'll fuck up everything."

  I look up into his face. I want to tell him that he's the one who fucked up everything. Having Asher arrested crosses a line that Gabriel won't tolerate. I know that. I've been witness to the shifting dynamics between the three brothers for years. I went to college with Asher and even though he was a year behind me, we spent hours together talking about his family and the unique, and often, volatile connections they all had. It made me feel better about the relationship I share with my own brother, Miles. I thought we had issues when we missed one another's birthdays or failed to connect around the holidays, but being friends with the Fosters has shown me that I have nothing to complain about. I know without question, that Miles would never have me arrested.

  "Have you told your parents?" It's a question that I already know the answer to. Caleb and Asher never see eye-to-eye anymore and until a few years ago their parents were the go-to referees. Once they started threatening that they'd hire people from outside the family to run the organization, the brothers hid their battles behind closed doors for the most part. Or they had, until today, when the police were called in.