Page 41 of Single Chance

“We do.” I stood, picked up my purse and coat, and joined him in the hall.

“I told Holden and Chloe I’m going to get you up to speed on the venue project,” he said as we descended the stairs to the first floor.

I took his cue and made small talk about the brewery’s potential for events like weddings and parties until we were closed in his SUV against the biting January day. Once it was just us, I let out a quiet, uncertain breath.

“It’s nerve-racking, isn’t it?” he asked. “Hiding a whopper of a secret from everyone at work?”

“Yeah,” I said, surprised to hear him voice my thoughts. “I thought maybe it was partly because I’m the new girl.”

Chance chuckled. “Not because you’re the new girl.” He started the engine, adjusted the heat setting, then took out his phone. “First things first, can I get your number? We need a way to communicate outside of work. I didn’t figure me showing up at the inn whenever I had a question would work.”

“Probably not.” His surprise visit on my first day of work had conjured vivid memories of New Year’s Eve. Scene of the crime, so to speak.

I took his phone from him, entered my number, and handed it back.

He sent me a message so I’d have his number as well, then put the SUV into gear and drove us out of the parking lot.

“Where are we going?” I asked when he drove through the square and didn’t turn in at the diner or the street to Humble’s.

Chance glanced across the front seat at me. “I wanted to talk privately, so if you don’t mind, I can whip up something for us at my house.”

“You’re going to cook?”

“Chicken and pasta with a garlic cream sauce. Does that sound okay?”

My day had taken a turn I hadn’t expected at all, but then so had my life. We did need privacy. “It sounds okay,” I confirmed, curious about his cooking skills even as my stomach gurgled with a hint of nausea at the mention of heavy food.

“Just food and discussion. I know it’s sketchy to take you to my home, but this town has big ears, and so does my daughter.”

“She’s at school?”

“She better be.”

That was an interesting response. My curiosity about her grew. I could get along well with most teenagers in my classroom. It remained to be seen how I’d do with the daughter of my baby’s father. We wouldn’t be starting off with a blank slate…ifI even got to meet her.

Chance pulled into the driveway of a two-story home in a family neighborhood. He parked in the attached garage and led me into the house. I followed him through a laundry room into the kitchen, which was big by my standards and reasonably clean. There was a short dining bar between it and a dining nook.

“Welcome to my humble home,” he said as he took off his coat and laid it over the back of one of the barstools.

When he held out a hand for my coat, I slid it off and gave it to him.

“Your home is nice,” I said.

“I can show you around after we eat if we have time.”

“You moved here after your wife died?” I asked, my curiosity overriding my hesitancy to bring up a sad subject.

“Several years after.”

I watched his face as I sat on one of the stools, trying to read him, wondering whether this was a taboo subject. He gave away nothing. “Was she sick?” I asked.

He turned his back to me and opened the refrigerator, took out chicken and a few ingredients, and set them on the counter. Without making eye contact, he answered, “She was addicted to opioids.”

“Oh, Chance.” My chest tightened with sympathy and shock. “I can’t imagine what you went through.”

He nodded once, still without looking at me. “Do you want a salad with your pasta?”

Message received. Off-limits topic.

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