Take a Chance on Me(81)

Charlie grinned and gave him a salute. “Have a nice day.”

Stalled and out of options, Mitch left and headed home.

How had she gotten them on her side? She’d only been here less than a week.

Shit. Was it any wonder? She’d had him in a couple of hours.

Minutes later, he pulled into the driveway, tires crunching as he rolled to a stop. He stared at the scene before him.

Maddie and his mother were both on their knees, digging in the dirt, surrounded by little plastic containers of flowers. Maddie wore a white tank top and jean shorts and hair was in a ponytail.

His mother, dressed in a tan top and matching long shorts, shook her head. The normally sleek chin-length bob was a wild mess of windblown tangles around her cheeks.

Maddie nodded vigorously, picking up a small plastic crate of flowers in a variety of bright colors and holding them out for inspection.

The cold air from the air conditioner blasted him in the face as something hard caught in his chest.

All of a sudden, his mom threw back her head and laughed—a real, hearty belly laugh that dropped ten years from her age in an instant. Mitch could see her as a young girl, full of life, reminiscent of the way his grandma used to talk about her.

In thirty-four years, Mitch had never seen her look so carefree.

Maddie beamed. Even from a distance, her enjoyment was clear.

In a couple of days, Maddie had broken through years of repressed politeness and made Charlotte Riley laugh like a teenager.

What was he going to do with her? More importantly, what would he do without her?





Maddie stared blankly at the TV and shifted restlessly on the couch. She couldn’t sleep; couldn’t get comfortable. She’d been restless all evening and had gone for a run earlier, hoping it would settle her down, but it had been a temporary fix. After the endorphins had worn off, her unease had returned.

Was she doing the right thing? She thought so, but at what cost?

Refusing to tell him what she’d been up to had created a divide that hadn’t been there two days ago. Every time he looked at her, his golden eyes glittering with questions she didn’t answer, it grew wider.

In her defense, he wasn’t much better. He’d shut her out the second his father’s scandal had broken.

She needed to talk. She needed to get all of this incessant chatter out of her head so she could think straight. She purposefully hadn’t told her friends anything about where she was or what she’d been doing when she’d made her promised daily calls, but now she reconsidered her stance. She needed confession in the way only her best girlfriends could deliver. She glanced at the clock: it was eleven-thirty. Too late to call Penelope. She went to bed after the ten o’clock news to ensure that she got the full, recommended eight hours of sleep.

But Sophie would be up, and if she wasn’t, she wouldn’t care. Sophie was the friend you called when it was three in the morning and you got arrested for public drunkenness.

Plus, Sophie loved details: the juicer, the better.

Maddie picked up the phone from the end table next to the couch and dialed. Sophie picked up on the second ring and said a groggy hello.

“I’m sorry I woke you.”

Maddie experienced a momentary touch of guilt, which evaporated when Sophie said, “If you’re calling to talk about all the hot sex you’ve been having, you’re forgiven.”

Maddie’s cheeks heated a good twenty degrees. “Oh my God, how’d you know?”

“Wait! What?” Sophie’s voice held none of the sleepiness from moments ago. “I was kidding!”

Oops. “Oh.”

“Well, as I live and breathe, Maddie Donovan, you little slut.”

Maddie laughed and was hit by a wave of homesickness out of nowhere.

“Spill,” Sophie said, always willing to be her cohort in crime. “And don’t leave anything out.”

Maddie spilled.

After forty-five minutes of nonstop talking, she felt much better. “So that’s it, the whole sordid story.”

“Wow,” Sophie said, blowing out a deep breath. “You always did go for the gusto when you decided to raise hell, but it’s been so long I’d forgotten.”

“Do you think I’m doing the right thing?” Maddie picked at a stray thread attached to the couch cushion.

“I don’t know.” Sophie paused and something rustled over the line. “What do you hope to accomplish?”

“It can be fixed. I know it.”

“Maybe, but what about you?”

“What about me?”

Another long silence. “Do you think it’s a good idea to get attached?”

Maddie frowned. Sophie wasn’t supposed to be the voice of reason. That was Penelope’s job. Sophie’s job was to tell her to go for it.

“I’m not that attached.” Liar.

“Your life is here. Your family and friends, we’re all in Chicago. You have to come home soon. Are you sure you’re not getting involved in his life so you can avoid your own?”

Was that was she was doing? No. There was something keeping her here. Something she needed to finish. “I’m not avoiding. I’m just not ready yet.”

“This guy sounds like he has a lot of baggage.”

Maddie’s voice raised an octave as defensiveness twisted in her stomach. “I’m hardly baggage-free.”