Page 7 of Irresistible Second Chance

“You were.”

He laughed then, hard, and I joined in with him. “I really was,” he said when he was done.

“But you’re a little less stupid now,” I said staring at him. “You started your own company. And you seem to be doing really well for yourself.”

He raised a brow and said, “What makes you think that?”

“I looked you up.”

“You stalked me, Sydney?” he sounded amused.

“I wouldn’t call it stalking, I just did my research.”

“And what did your research tell you?”

“That you’re really well respected and one of the best in your field.”

“I’m not one of the best, I’m THE best.”

“Still arrogant, I see.”

He shrugged, “The truth is the truth,” and then his smile disappeared, “And the truth is, I’ve missed you. I’ve missed this.”

I wasn’t expecting that. I blinked, trying to form words, “Well, maybe if you came home more often you would see me more.”

“Maybe if you actually took my calls, I would come home more often.”

He had me there. He called me every now and then. Normally, for my birthday and I didn’t bother to call him back or if I did, I would call him from the elevator at work with a quick thank you and then I would hurry off the phone. I’m not sure why I did that. It just felt awkward being married and talking to Chris. I knew it was silly, but I---I couldn’t explain it. Or maybe I just didn’t really want to. I didn’t do introspective. I took everything at face value. I wasn’t interested in dwelling too deeply on why I had avoided Chris.

“I’m sorry, Chris. Life has just been insane.” That was technically not a lie, right?

He nodded, “I get that. It’s crazy for all of us.”

The car started to slow down, and I said, “I guess we’re here.” I was grateful for the excuse to talk about anything else.

“After this trip, we should hang out. Stick around on the island for a little bit,” he suggested, “It’s not like you have anywhere else to be.”

“Thanks for the reminder,” I said, suddenly angry that he was right. He was witnessing me floundering through life and it was embarrassing. He was sexy, successful, and single. He was well-known in the corporate social responsibility realm. He was good at what he did, and he apparently looked better and better with age, while my life was falling apart along with my metabolism. It just wasn’t fair that I would run into him NOW of all times.

As I got out of the car, I said to him bitterly, “You know, you don’t have to keep bringing my divorce up.”

I slapped his hand that he had held out to help me down from the vehicle.

He looked unperturbed and said, “Why not?”

“Because it hasn’t even happened yet, Chris. I haven’t signed anything.”

He looked at me, and I couldn’t read his eyes before he said, “It doesn’t matter. He’s not getting you back,” and then he extended his arm before I could reply, “Milady.”

I rolled my eyes but linked my arm with his, together we walked towards the restaurant, but my thoughts were everywhere. I couldn’t focus. What exactly had Chris meant by that?

Flustered, I let him guide me into the restaurant, not bothering to speak.

To my surprise, he began to speak to the hostess in perfect Spanish. She responded to him saying something that made him laugh, then the pretty hostess led us through a stylist restaurant.

“Since when do you speak Spanish?” I asked him as we maneuvered around the tables. The delicious smells drifting through the air made my stomach growl. I realized then that I was starving. I hadn’t eaten much since the debacle with Mark.

“That semester abroad in college. I went to Madrid. And then when I was in the majors a lot of my teammates only spoke Spanish.”

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