Page 94 of The Heartbreaker (Chandler Brothers 3)
“Look, Rick’s got a point,” Kendall told Chase. “I’ve stayed out of this so far, but I’m female and that gives me some wisdom. Add to that, I’ve dealt with a Chandler man who possesses a white-knight complex. I’m more than equipped to give you a few pointers.” She tucked her hair behind her ears and watched him, waiting for permission.
Chase let out another groan. “Might as well give it a shot. Everyone else has.”
“That’s gratitude for you,” Rick said.
Kendall ignored him, focusing on Chase. “As much as I hate to admit this, Rick’s right. If you love Sloane, and I believe you do or you wouldn’t be so miserable, you’re going to have to convince her you’ve changed.”
“And how do I do that?” he asked Kendall, needing this advice more than he needed his next breath.
Before she could reply, Eric came in to announce to the family that another Chandler had been born. Lilly Chandler, a healthy five-pound, eight-ounce, eighteen-inch baby girl, had come into the world. And Roman, who’d witnessed battlefields and wars up close and personal, had nearly passed out, needing a paper bag and coaching by Eric to resuscitate him.
While the rest of the family headed for the glass doors of the nursery to wait for their first glimpse of the baby, Kendall pulled Chase aside.
“You gave me advice once. I just want to return the favor.” She smiled at him, accepting him for who and what he was.
“I’d appreciate it.”
She placed a hand on his arm. “Look inside yourself and see what made you the man you were. The man who didn’t want a family. Then figure out why you suddenly do. When you can explain it to yourself, you can pass that wisdom on to Sloane. That’s all she’ll need to believe.” She shrugged as if it were simple.
But why didn’t it feel that way?
* * *
Sloane had been in Yorkshire Falls for only a brief time, yet she missed both the town and the people. At home in her Georgetown walk-up, she dressed for her first day back at work with a shirt that let her cater to her bandaged arm, and a determined attitude of renewal.
When she’d taken time off, she’d closed down her small store-front office from which she ran her interior-design business and called her most immediate clients to explain she’d had a family emergency. Though many of her existing clients were antsy, there were none who couldn’t be soothed with an apology and a rescheduled appointment. This morning, she had a list of phone calls to make, consisting of basic things ranging from overdue furniture deliveries to scheduling a pickup on a wall unit a client decided she wasn’t happy with, after all. Easy enough, Sloane thought.
She was a people person, something she’d probably learned—she could no longer say inherited—from Michael. Meeting with her clients while trying to combine their needs with her vision normally gave her a great deal of satisfaction. But since her trip to Chase’s hometown, everything here felt bland. Dull. Lifeless.
She tapped the pen on the desktop, reminding herself she lived in Washington, D.C., the nation’s capital. A swinging town at night and a bustling city during the day. So why did the sleepy upstate New York town and its eclectic citizens draw her so? Or was it just Chase who pulled at her like a magnet? She missed him so bad, she ached.
Shake it off, Sloane. Life goes on, she reminded herself harshly. She’d let him go so that he could experience the rich life he’d envisioned, the one of a single man who found ultimate success as a journalist. A life no longer tied to family or obligation. She’d never have forgiven herself if she’d accepted his words of love and tied him to a future, only to see regret and longing in his eyes later on.
The jingling of bells signaled she had a visitor and Sloane glanced up.
Her friend Annelise walked in the door, two cups of Starbucks coffee in hand and a scowl on her lips. “Well, well, well, look who came home.” Annelise handed Sloane a grande-size cup. “What kind of friend disappears without a word? Doesn’t call? Leaves me to worry?” She sat down, coffee in hand. “I called Madeline and she said you were taking some breathing room,” Annelise said, her voice rising. “Wouldn’t a real friend know if you needed breathing room?” Her pout was as real as her concern.
Sloane’s guilt rose to the surface and she winced. “I’m so sorry.” From the moment she’d overheard Robert and Frank admit Michael wasn’t her father, forcing her to find solace in Chase, Sloane had been single-minded in her pursuit of Samson. And protective of her time with Chase Chandler. All at the expense of her job, her friends, her life.
