Stephanie Evanovich - The Sweet Spot

She should have been terrified. She should have run. But every word he spoke was the truth, and though the reasons were different, they both were to blame. Determined not to cry, she cautiously joined him and laid her small hand on his granite bicep, gently urging him to turn to her.

“You’re right, Chase. But where do we go from here?”

He didn’t want her so close, didn’t want her to touch him, but she kept ever so slightly pulling, until he dropped his arms and she slid into him, her arms curling around his waist and up his back. Placing her ear on his slick chest, she waited to hear his heart regulate itself. As if his arms had a will of their own, they wrapped around her. He rested his cheek on the top of her head and breathed in the scent of her, the mixture of perfume and shampoo he knew so well. He closed his eyes.

“I don’t want to love you,” he said despondently, almost to himself. “It hurts too much.”

“I can make it up to you. Please let me try,” she pleaded, her pride no longer relevant inside his strong embrace, the safety she had been looking for all along.

He exhaled and his tension eased a bit. His arms had been without her for too long. “What am I going to do with you?” he asked wistfully.

“You’re going to make me pay, in all the best ways,” she teased, sensing the worst of it was over.

“I don’t even know where to start, little girl,” he said, making the shaky attempt to pick up where they’d left off, although they both knew it wasn’t going to be that easy.

“Start right from the beginning, when Alan Shaw told me to get out of town.”

His arms noticeably began to stiffen around her.

“Wait. What?”

Chase felt like he’d just been plunked in the rib cage by Justin Verlander’s fastball. Right on the tattoo of her he could no longer bear to see. He set her apart from him.

“What did you just say about Alan Shaw?”

Amanda could tell in one look that whatever her answer was, it was going to be the wrong one.

He repeated a disbelieving “Alan Shaw told you to get out of town?”

He asked it the same way he would if he were accusing her of having an affair, all gut reaction. The tone of his voice alone was enough to cause panic. She nodded.

“He told me you’d need to concentrate on damage control,” she said quickly.

Still struggling to wrap his head around it, he repeated louder. “You ran away from me on the advice of Alan Shaw?”

Chase stepped away from her into the middle of the room before turning to face her again. He was composed to the point of indifference.

“Alan told me you called him at his office after you left and said you were so mad that you didn’t want to speak to me. That if you ever stopped being pissed off, I’d be the first to know.”

“That’s completely not true,” Amanda corrected him, hoping the truth would make things better. “He was the first call I got. He pretty much insisted.”

But he only got more glazed over. “So let me get this straight. You took off because Alan Shaw told you it was a good idea? The greasiest, sleaziest, greediest . . .”

His sputtering reminded her of Yosemite Sam describing an altercation with Bugs Bunny. She waited to see if he was going to finish it up by calling Shaw the “pole-cattin-est, flim-flamming-est varmint he ever did see.” But if he was blustering, surely they had to be on the road to recovery. Of all the things she expected to happen, he did the one thing she never thought he would. He started making his way to the door.

“Amanda, you have to go.” He said it so calmly, her blood ran cold. He held his bedroom door open, his hand pointing to the way out and down the hall. She could see Jack hovering in the doorway of the neighboring room, in response to the housekeeper’s concern about the way Chase slammed the door. When Jack wasn’t discharged, Amanda began to realize how bad it was going to get. He had just allowed another person access to the conversation.

She’d expected that they would start making love or have a knock-down-drag-out fight, or that he would give her the paddling of a lifetime. In a perfect world, she’d have gotten all three. But he was always going to forgive her.

“But . . . why?” she asked through the tears that were already glistening on her eyelashes.

“Because it’s the rule,” he stated coolly. “You left me. I told you, only once.”

“But a minute ago . . . ” Amanda looked back to where they were standing. Hugging and reconciling.

“A minute ago, you were at least brave enough to have run away on your own accord. I need someone I can trust, not someone who would take orders from the most immoral character I can think of instead of her future husband. Leave my keys. I don’t want you to contact me again.”

She heard it in his voice. It was the worst voice she’d ever heard, devoid of any passion or emotion. She couldn’t see it in his eyes, because he refused to glance in her direction. His jaw was set and his lips tightly drawn together. He looked from the ceiling to the window to the door he still held open.

There were two things Amanda could do. She could grovel or she could leave. By the all-encompassing change that had taken place in him, the sheer magnitude of his apathy, she didn’t think groveling would make any difference. With the few remaining shreds of dignity she had left, Amanda walked past him, then Jack, down the hall, stopping only long enough to take his keys off her keychain and placing them on the table next to his wallet.

“Make sure she finds her way out of the building, Jack,” Chase said flatly from his bedroom, like she was a fan who had become a nuisance and needed to be removed.

She held it together while in the elevator. The shock was still fresh and she’d gotten good at feeling like the sky was falling and still remain mobile. Jack said nothing, as rigid and unresponsive as his employer instructed. She made no attempt at conversation. The man had just been given the order to kick her out. She got in her car, the useless convertible Chrysler Sebring she wouldn’t let Chase replace. Thank heaven for small favors. The only way it could have been more melodramatic would have been to be banished and then have to board the crosstown bus. She began driving out of the city, starting to feel the full effect of him sending her away. He was bone-chillingly cold. It wasn’t open for discussion and he wasn’t making an idle threat. He simply dismissed her. She’d seen him do it with others, always from his circle of luminosity she had once basked in. But not anymore, he had just seen to it that she’d never be in his presence again. She didn’t have a game plan for the rest of her life without him. It was already getting darker without him shining down on her. With that thought, her tears began to flow freely and she let them, brushing at them just enough to keep them from blinding her while driving. She drove past her own exit and kept heading west. She picked up the parkway and drove mindlessly, heading north, trying once again to escape.

It was no surprise when she ended up in Mendham. She was drawn there as part of her cosmic wheels directing her where she’d be able to sort it all out. It felt as natural as it did finding Gertie on the beach. She would start at the place where she was first told she deserved to have it all. It would feel like he was near until she figured out what to do. She would drive right up that long driveway, and if anyone was working, she’d just turn around. And if no one was there, she’d stare at it and wait to see if it gave her a sign.

Her heart cracked in half as soon as she saw the real estate sign posted at the beginning of the driveway. Chase had put their house up for sale. It wasn’t the kind of sign she was hoping for.

Amanda pulled her car over into the driveway and finished crying. He was acting rashly. She refused to believe he’d stopped loving her. He was too loyal to give up on anyone for one mistake. Whenever he made this decision, it was when he thought she left because she was furious and not mortified. She dialed the number on the real estate sign. She sniffled her way through analyzing in a way that would make her mother proud. She wasn’t sure what she was going to do, but it was going to have to be something drastic. She needed to stop being a damsel in distress and get her act together.

Amanda Cole was getting her man back.

CHASE CAME OFF the elevator at his lawyers’ office, security in tow, and was promptly taken into a conference room. His real estate agent was already there.

“Thanks for coming down, Chase,” his real estate lawyer said, extending his hand. “It was nice that you agreed to do this. I know it’s unorthodox.”

“Meeting a grandmother who wants to see her children enjoy their inheritance is hardly a sacrifice. Thanks for making me sound like a hero, but I have to be honest, I would do almost anything to unload this property.” Chase hated to sound so callous, but it had been getting more and more difficult to keep it from slipping out occasionally when it came to her. Once the house was gone, he’d be one step closer in his exorcism. He needed to make a decision about his lawyer’s recommendation that he send a demand letter for the return of the engagement ring. That would be the final tie severed. But he was torn. What was he supposed to do with a six-carat diamond? He could use it to cut glass or try to carve the tattoo of her off his body. As soon as it was in his hand, it would make one more clean incision into his heart.

“We’ll try to make it quick,” his lawyer said. “They called a short time ago. They’re just a few minutes out.”