Page 27
“Sucks for them,” I mutter.
“It’s obvious that Chance genuinely cares about you, sis. Maybe you can be friends again.” Paisley’s voice is too sincere to ignore.
But my mood has soured. There’s bite in my tone as I reply. “I thought he wouldn’t settle for that?”
She shrugs. “It’s a two-way street. Let’s not pretend Chance Benson means nothing to you, even after all these years.”
“That doesn’t prove I’ll ever trust him again.”
“Not with that attitude,” she counters. “I’m not saying you have to put your guard down. Just… give him a real chance to prove himself. Open your heart to the possibility of maybe letting him back in.”
“I could consider it. Potentially,” I add just to be funny.
Bianca doesn’t miss the opportunity. “You’re both tossing around weak odds like they’re free breadsticks. Commit or don’t. Chance might ease off the constant watch patrol if you do.”
Another long sigh dribbles out of me. She’s right, but I don’t need to verbally admit it.
The only reason Chance isn’t here now is because his brother forced him to complete a laundry list of tasks at the auction barn. I received a lengthy text describing his displeasure of being forcefully separated from me, but it’s for the best. He’s been royally screwing up his role in the family business and his distraction is to blame. If I thaw this bitter edge I’m harboring, that could give him the option to succeed. Not that it’s my responsibility to help him or anything.
“I want to hear more about the advice you gave him.” My index finger bounces from Paisley to Bianca in hopes that this will temporarily take my mind off forgiving Chance.
“Oh, gosh. It wasn’t anything major,” Bianca grumbles. “We told him to start small—freshly plucked flowers, peanut butter chocolate, anything purple, get down on his knees and beg to be your personal sex demon. You know, the basics. After that, he could build up to the grand gestures. I suggested that he watch Jerry Maguire, Notting Hill, and The Proposal.”
Amusement lifts the edges of my mouth while I imagine him following their orders. “It’s safe to say he didn’t listen.”
Just then, my phone chimes with an email alert. I feel my forehead crease as I quickly scan the message.
“Is this real?” I read the email again, but it still doesn’t make sense. “Seems too good to be true.”
Shiloh quirks a brow. “Problem?”
“Quite the opposite, if this is legit. It says I’ve been selected to receive a paperback advance copy of His Corruption by Heather M. Orgeron.”
My sister blinks slowly. “And that’s special?”
“Extremely,” I breathe. “The book doesn’t release for months. I don’t even remember entering to win it or whatever this process includes.”
Paisley is rolling her eyes. “Seriously? You can’t be that clueless.”
“Rude much?”
She waves off the snark in my retort. “Chance is obviously behind this.”
I’m already shaking my head. “No way. He doesn’t know the first thing about romance novels.”
“But he knows everything about you. I bet he saw some post you made about being excited to read this one.” She nods at the email still on my screen. “He’s making it happen.”
Bianca makes a sound of agreement. “The Benson boys have connections everywhere.”
My sister hums while glancing at the insanely expensive custom ring Brody Benson himself slid onto her finger to seal their initial agreement. There are more diamonds than I care to count. “Never underestimate them.”
Emotion prickles across the bridge of my nose. “This is a much better gesture than stalking me relentlessly.”
“You should tell him that.” Shiloh nudges me and taps at my phone. “It will keep him going in the right direction.”
“I’m afraid,” I admit somewhat unwillingly. The words feel wrenched from the depths of my pain. Anger has been my coping mechanism, brewing steadily over the years to cover the pain, but I can’t find an ounce of it now. “It’s terrifying that I still miss him so much.”
“That’s very telling,” Paisley says carefully and reaches across the table for my hand. “Just take it slow. It doesn’t have to lead anywhere significant. At the very least, you’ll get closure.”
