Chance Page 4

  He rests both of his hands on my shoulders. "I know you've told me there's nothing going on between you and him but there's too much emotion there on both sides for you two to stay friends forever."

  I reach up to grab his forearms. "Caleb and I have been friends my entire life. There's nothing there. There will never be anything between us beyond friends and right now I'm not even sure that exists anymore."

  "Mark my words, Rowan," he begins before he leans down so he can lower his voice to a whisper. "The two of you want each other. You may not see it, but you feel it. I see it whenever you say his name. I saw it today when he said your name. It's going to happen."

  I shake my head as I laugh softly. "I don't want him. I will never sleep with Caleb Foster."

  "You're wrong." He drops his hands to his sides. "I can see the smoke that's there between the two of you. You both just need to give the other a chance."

  I raise both brows playfully. "This discussion is over. You're going out. I'm going to bed and Caleb won't be in my dreams. I can guarantee that."

  Chapter 8

  "Ruby asked me if we ever fucked each other."

  There are at least three things wrong with that statement. The first is the source. That's Caleb Foster's voice. I'd know it anywhere. It's deep, melodic and has just the hint of a growl to it. The second thing is that my office door is wide open. I'm expecting Asher at any minute. I don't need to turn towards the door to know that at least a few of the people I work with heard Caleb's words. The last thing that's completely and totally wrong is that there's no way in hell that Ruby uses the word 'fuck.' I'd peg her for the 'screw' or 'bang' type.

  "Caleb," I say his name in barely more than a whisper. "What are you doing here?"

  "Have your legs always been that long?"

  I smooth my hand over the messy bun I pulled my hair into before I left for work this morning. I'd overslept. After Graham left, I'd fallen between the sheets and had drifted into a deep sleep. I woke with a start when I heard my phone ringing. It was Ivy reminding me that we have a yoga class together the day after tomorrow. Normally I'd tease her about confirming something so far in advance but today, her early call was what I needed to get my ass in gear. I was late to work for the first time in months and now, I have to deal with Caleb. My day can only get better from here.

  "Why are you here?" I turn to face him. He's standing in the doorway of my office, his left hand leaning against the doorjamb. His blue suit jacket is draped over his right arm. He looks relaxed, content and way too pleased.

  His eyes slowly rake over the red dress I'd hurriedly put on before coming to work. It's shorter than what I'd normally wear but when you're in a rush, you grab the first thing that your hand connects with in the closet. In this case, it's a dress I've worn out on dates a few times. "Is that dress new?"

  Any mild discomfort I might have felt when I heard Caleb talk about my legs has been replaced with all out agitation. "No. It's not new."

  "You did your hair differently today." He scratches the edge of his jaw. "Why do you look so different?"

  This is completely reminiscent of a conversation that we had when I was an adolescent and Caleb saw me in a dress for the first time at the wedding of a mutual friend of our parents. He'd marched over to ask me why I looked so different and I had teased him about it then. Today, I can't push myself into a place where I want there to be anything humorous floating between us. I'm still angry with him over what happened to Asher yesterday.

  "I don't look different." I tug on the back of my office chair. "I asked you why you're here."

  "Do you have a lunch date?" He finally walks into the room. "You're going out with someone at lunch, aren't you? Do I know him?"

  I'm not shocked by the barrage of questions. Caleb has met every man I've ever been in a relationship with. I hadn't planned it that way but circumstances brought him straight into the path of me and my boyfriends in the past. For the most part he's been remarkably cordial to them.

  I, on the other hand, have only met one of Caleb's past girlfriends. It was actually his fiancé. Her name is Vena and she's the one woman who found her way into Caleb's heart. Soon after Caleb proposed to her, the relationship was over. We've never talked about it and I doubt we ever will. I only tried once to bring it up and he'd shut me down in anger, telling me to never mention her name again. I hadn't. I won't.

  "It's not like I'm going to follow you on your lunch date."

  "What?" I pull myself back into the moment. "Did you just say you're going to follow me on my lunch date?"

  He puffs out a breath between pursed lips as he takes a seat in one of the chairs opposite my desk. "I said I wouldn't do that. I was just curious about who you're having lunch with."

  "I'm not having lunch with anyone." I dart my eyes behind him towards the door. Asher should have been here by now. I'm worried that he caught sight of Caleb in the lobby of the building and decided to ditch me. I need to talk to him. I want to make sure he's alright after what happened yesterday.

  Caleb careens his neck to the side. "Who are you looking for? Are you fucking someone who works here? Introduce me to him. I want to meet him."

  My hands jump to cover my face. This isn't happening. I can't talk about my non-existent sex life this early in the morning. I certainly can't talk about it with him. "Stop, Caleb. My life isn't your business."

  "I didn't think you were dating." He leans forward in the chair. "When did you start dating someone?"

  "When did you hire a house manager?" I need to shift the focus of this completely inappropriate conversation. "Why did you hire her?"

  "I brought her on board a few weeks ago." He crosses his long legs. "She's a close friend of my mother. She needed a job."

  I recognize the irony in the situation. Caleb's loyalties lie in one place. It's not with me or his brothers. It may have been his former fiancé at one point, but it's always been his parents. If they need anything, Caleb is the first to jump to the ready to help. I admired it when we were younger but now I see it clearly for what it is. He's trying to make up for what he views as his part in the breakdown of their marriage. He quietly blamed himself when they announced they were separating. His guilt stemming from the fact that he forced himself into the middle of their business relationship.

  "Have you talked to Asher?" I scan my smartphone's screen hoping to see a text from Asher telling me he's running late.

  "You only get one phone call in prison," he says with the hint of amusement in his tone. "I doubt I'm Asher's call."

  I have to bite my bottom lip to stave off the urge I feel to scream at him. It may be his incessant need to joke about serious situations because he can't handle anything heavy, but this pushes all of my buttons. "Asher isn't in prison."

  He taps his foot against the edge of my desk. "Did you pay his bail?"

  I look into his face. He doesn't deserve an answer. He doesn't deserve another ounce of my time. He went out on a date when he thought his brother was sitting in jail. He carried on with his life, without a single missed step at all. "What happened to you, Caleb?"

  "What's that supposed to mean?" He cocks a dark brow as his tongue slides over his bottom lip.

  "You've changed so much." I exhale audibly. "I don't know when it happened but you're not the man you used to be."

  The words hit him with the force of a hurricane. His expression doesn't give anything away but his body language does. His shoulder fall back, his neck surges forward and his gaze drops into his lap. "I haven't changed at all."

  "You're selfish," I say it because it's what I see and feel. "The Caleb I used to know would have done everything in his power to protect his brother."

  He's on his feet in one quick movement. "I was protecting him, Rowan. I was doing what I needed to do to protect him."

  "No," I push the word out slowly and loudly. "You were protecting your precious company's reputation."

  "He was in full attack mode." He clenches his fists together at his
sides. "You weren't there. You don't know what was going on."

  My finger darts out to wave in the air over my desk. "I know that you're at least six inches taller than him. You must have at least fifty pounds on him. You're telling me that you couldn't control him?"

  "You don't need to fight my battles, Bell," Asher's voice breaks into our conversation. "Caleb did what he needed to do. I don't blame him. I don't want you to either."

  Chapter 9

  "Asher," I say his name as I round my desk to embrace him. "I tried to find you yesterday. I've been so worried about you."

  "I know." His hands leap to my shoulders. "Frank told me you were at my building. I needed to crash at a friend's house."

  "Are you alright?" I step back to soak in the sight of him. There's never been any question Asher, Caleb and Gabriel are brothers. They all have the same dark brown hair and brown eyes. Asher is just as striking to look at as his brothers but he doesn't carry the same confident air that they do. He's shy. He's more reserved and unless you know him well, making eye contact isn't going to happen.

  "I'm okay." His gaze moves to the right to where his brother is watching us.

  Caleb stands in silence with his broad arms crossed over his chest. I can't tell if he's seething or if he's relieved to see his younger brother looking freshly showered, shaved and ready to take on his day.

  "I need to talk to you about something." Asher sighs and pushes his hand through his hair. "I want to talk about it alone."

  "I'm leaving," Caleb spits the words out without looking at either of us.

  "Caleb," I start before I realize I don't know what to say.

  "Don't." His hand juts into the air. "I need to get to work."

  I glance quickly at Asher as Caleb walks through the door of my office before he turns to the right and disappears down the corridor.

  I reach for Asher's hands and squeeze them both tightly. "Were you hurt? Did you get hurt yesterday?"

  "No." He shakes his head rapidly from side-to-side before looking up towards the ceiling. "I lost it. I totally lost it."

  I want to ask the obvious question about what he was on but focusing on the elephant that's in the room isn't going to pull any of the details I want out of Asher. I have to pace myself. I can't push him into a corner. If I do that, he'll never view me as someone he can confide in. "I wanted to call Gabriel. I really wanted to call him to help."

  His eyes search mine briefly. "He's in Italy. He's got too much to worry about already."

  I nod. "Caleb told me that."

  His jaw tightens at the mention of his brother's name. "Caleb panicked yesterday. He came at me full force. I lashed out. I think I hurt him."

  I smile softly at the idea that Asher could cause any physical damage to his brother. I don't doubt that Asher can defend himself, but I've witnessed Caleb pushing men up against walls with just one hand. "He's fine. You didn't hurt him."

  "He called the police." He motions towards the two chairs that are sitting in front of my desk. "Can we sit?"

  "Yes." I point towards the door. "I'll close my door. You sit."

  I glance down the corridor in the direction Caleb took before I softly close my office door. I can tell that my words stung him. Years ago, I would have raced after him to explain things. Today, although a part of me wants to do that, I can't. Asher needs me and Caleb needs to have some time to absorb what I said.

  "You're sure that you're okay?" I tap Asher on the shoulder before I take a seat in the chair next to him. "Do you want anything? I can get you some coffee or a bottle of water?"

  "I'm good, Bell," he says my nickname with the same ease he always has. Asher and my father are the only two people who call me that. Caleb did at one point, but as we grew older, and he took on a more serious stance, he dropped it.

  "I spoke to my lawyer yesterday," I pause to study his face. "I thought you may need a lawyer, so I went to see mine. She's not a criminal lawyer but she was able to find out that you weren't charged with anything."

  His gaze meets mine for a brief second. "You've always been one of my best friends. You know that, right?"

  I feel a sudden lump in my throat. "You're one of my best friends too."

  "I remember when Tom overdosed." He exhales audibly. "I still remember everything about that day."

  Until a few months ago, the mention of my former boyfriend's name would bring a flash of tears to my eyes. I loved Tom. He was brilliant, fun and caught within a world of deep depression. We had met in class during my senior year in college. He had a mess of blonde curls on his head and eyes that were a pale blue. He was introspective, romantic and wore eyeglasses that would always slip off the bridge of his nose.

  "I do too." I rub at my chest trying to ease the growing tightness I feel.

  "I think about that day whenever I feel the urge." He leans back in the chair. "I've been thinking about that day a lot lately."

  Asher had been with me the day I found Tom passed out on the floor of the apartment we were sharing. We'd moved in together after I graduated and as Tom continued his studies towards his Master's in business, he found an ally in cocaine. Asher had warned me twice that he thought Tom was using, but it was easier to ignore the signs and bathe in the good moments. My relationship with Tom was filled with passion and when the dust had settled and he was released from the hospital, he made a choice. He chose the drugs and he's never looked back.

  "I think about it sometimes too," I offer back. "I thought about it yesterday."

  "I haven't touched anything since I left rehab." He crosses his legs, pulling at the material of his pant leg. "I wasn't on anything yesterday."

  If he said those words to Caleb I know that they would be met with disbelief, but Asher wouldn't mask the truth from me. Not about this. He saw, firsthand, how devastated I was when I found out he had been using last year. My instinct then was to abandon him. I hadn't. I'd gone to visit him when he was in rehab and I cried when he told me that he'd let me down.

  "I believe you," I say it with conviction. "Caleb said you were angry. He said you were lashing out."

  He leans forward to rest his hands on his knees. "Caleb and I are a lot alike. He can't see it. He won't see it."

  "You're not that alike," I say jokingly. "Caleb's changed so much. He's not the same person he used to be."

  "None of us are." His fingers brush lightly against my knee. "Do you remember how shy you used to be? You'd hide behind the oak tree in front of your parents' townhouse when we called you over to play baseball. I don't think you said two words to me before you hit your tenth birthday."

  I'd cowered behind my parents when I was a child. I was painfully unsure of myself. I had only one friend in school but when I'd come home, I'd often find the Foster boys sitting on their front stoop. Gabriel is seven years older than me and back when I was a child, he was the one who would bring me a package of gum from the store or make promises about how he'd run a huge company one day and I would be his second-in-charge. He would tell me that I was the smartest girl he knew even though I doubted the words.

  Caleb, the middle child, was always the most beautiful to me. I was drawn to him instantly and once I understood about fairy tales and promised love, I'd fallen for him in my own innocent way. I'd sit by my bedroom window and watch him as he rode his skateboard down the quiet street. I took a hooded sweatshirt he once left on the railing of the stoop so that I could inhale the heady scent of his skin. I still have it. It's tucked into a box at the back of my closet.

  Asher and I are closest in age but were the furthest apart when we were children. He was as shy as me and on the rare occasions when we did speak to each other, it was stunted. Our words would stall and one of us would inevitably drift away from the discussion as soon as the chance was upon us. He reached out when he started college and our friendship found its foundation then. Our life choices didn't mirror one another's and as he wandered into a world filled with temptation and pain, I'd focused on my studies and work. We'
d let each other down. We both knew it even if we hadn't actually admitted it to one another.

  "I wasn't using anything yesterday, Bell," he says bluntly as he taps his finger on my knee. "I was upset about something."

  I draw my gaze up to meet his. I study his face. His skin is sallow, his eyes sunken in. He may have showered, shaved and put on a brave face, but there's something lurking beneath the surface. "What were you upset about?"

  "I got some news," he says wearily. "I had to stop by…I went to see someone yesterday morning before work and it…the conversation upset me."

  The disjointed answer is punctuated by the pained expression on his face. I want to ask him to just spit it out but Asher has always needed a barrier between him and everyone else. It's how he deals with anything that overwhelms him. He used to turn to drugs, but rehab and ongoing therapy have taught him how to cope. "We can talk about it if you want."

  "I don't want to talk about it right now." He shifts in the chair. "I want to talk about Caleb."

  "Caleb?" I ask through a deep, and audible, sigh. "Why would we talk about him?"

  "He needs you. My brother needs you, Bell."

  Chapter 10

  "Caleb only needs one person and that's himself," I say with complete conviction. "He doesn't need me. He doesn't need anyone."

  "You're wrong." Asher points at me. "When the police handcuffed me yesterday, Caleb kept talking about calling you to tell you what happened."

  "That was his guilty conscience talking," I counter. "He actually told me that I'm the only person who would understand why he had you arrested. How am I supposed to understand it? I honestly don't understand Caleb at all anymore."

  "He was scared." He half-shrugs his shoulder. "I've never seen him that scared. He didn't know what to do, Bell. He pinned me on the ground."

  "He could have really hurt you," I cringe as I say the words. I was witness to Caleb defending himself at a club in Hell's Kitchen one night almost two years ago. I was there with friends and once I heard that there was a scuffle on the street, I joined the crowd that was scurrying outside to get a glimpse. I was shocked to see Caleb pushing a stranger against the brick wall of the building while he pummeled the man's head with his fist. It's an image I can't shed. Caleb's never divulged the details of what drove him to the edge of losing control, but I know now that it's within him to take a life, whether he admits it or not.