Page 11 of Mending Our Chance

5 Marcus

Our numbers look bad. I clicked through two more computer screens, exported some data, and refreshed the live stream feed of the stock market. Yup, I’m fit to be tied. I dropped my head and ground my forehead into my fist.

But it wasn’t the bleak position of my company that was bothering me the most. It was the fight I’d had with Felicity. She’d been in a beautiful fury. An avenging angel sent to chastise me and bite my pride. Her words had cut deep and I was still reeling from the venom lacing her scathing comments. I can’t fail this business and I can’t lose Felicity. Not again. If I could catch her, there was nothing stopping me this time from keeping her. The only problem was that because of our past, I doubted if I could ever bridge the distance between us.

It wasn’t just the fact that she hated me. It was the unknown. I still didn’t know what I had done to her—clearly something had happened. The way I remembered it, I’d told her the news of my deployment as we’d met up for dinner and then explained that our time together had come to an end. I had always been clear with her that there wasn’t any future for us back then. She had simply pushed her steak away, dabbed at the corner of her mouth, rose from her seat to place a chaste kiss on my sweaty brow, and then walked out. I hadn’t heard anything more from her since. We were supposed to have been a fling, but I had broken my heart and let her go. She could have been my everything.

Digging my knuckles into my eye sockets, I let my black mood possess me. It wasn’t right to let her treat me this way, but call me an addict—I was called to the chase. I still wanted her and if Felicity didn’t want me back in return, I was done for. Despite her aloof state, she was a prize I could fight for. When I thought my business was the only thing I had left after the Marines, I had gone for it. There had to be a way to add Felicity to that chase—if she wanted me to win her back.

After pushing my laptop further back, I laid my head onto the small kitchen table and closed my eyes. My sparsely furnished apartment didn’t give me much choice for work space. I might have a wealthy family, but I couldn’t go back to them after this licking. Not like a dog with my tail between my legs. No, I had to stay strong and build this business. It was my legacy and for it to be purely mine, I had to make it successful without the financial help of my family. And that meant I needed Felicity.

I imagined pulling her into my arms as she screamed and railed at me. Did I deserve her wrath for what had happened in the past? Didn’t matter, I had been clear that we were just a fling even though I had gone and fallen in love with her. She had never known, because it wasn’t the gentlemanly thing to lead her on when I couldn’t commit to her back then, so I’d left before I could tell her how I felt.

I must have dozed off, because my mind quit thinking of my avenging beauty and instead focused on fitful images of an inferno that was filled with the screams of old friends. I was trapped and unable to save myself or my buddies. There were harsh sounds in a foreign language—a language I spoke perfectly when awake.

A hail storm of metal started pouring down on us. A piece of metal pierced the neck of my closest friend. Blood spurted. My screams became strangled. Suddenly, thunder roared as great rocks fell from the sky. They exploded and it was deafening. A subconscious part of my mind understood that this was a dream. Jolted awake, I heard thunder outside my New York apartment. Whipping my head back and forth, I tried to discover the source and where I could take cover. It took a few moments for reality to fall back into place—it was not the thunderous explosion of bombs, but merely an insistent pounding on my door.

Panting, I dropped my head on the table top which I absentmindedly noticed was damp with sweat. It was no surprise I’d had this nightmare. Terrified for my fledgling company, and wounded by the woman I adored, my anxiety had ignited my recurring nightmares. I hadn’t had these for weeks.

I was breathing hard and my skin was slick with a cold sweat. I was tempted to avoid answering my door. It was most likely my bloody neighbor, come to pester me yet again. I didn’t have it in me to worm out of her advances, not tonight.

Then my instincts kicked in. If it wasn’t a neighbor, it could be Harold, which meant someone had to have let my late evening caller into the building. Harold wouldn’t show his face after the stunt he pulled. Something bristled at the base of my spine, after that realization. I had to deal with my visitor. Rising on unsteady legs, I stalked through the dimly lit apartment to the front door.

Without bothering with the peep hole, I ripped the door open, only to be figuratively punched in the gut. Felicity stood there. I immediately tried to hide my raw nerves as Felicity took in the sight of me with a measured look. You’re here… please save me. But the words never left my throat. I buried them before I could speak, because what good would it do to embarrass myself further in her eyes?

Instead, I crossed my arms over my chest. “What do you want?” My surly attitude was a front to hide my insecurities. “Frankly, I’m a bit tired for round two tonight.”

Felicity reached out her hand and brushed my upper arm. I couldn’t help the shiver that rippled down my back. “Been working out?” Her eyes narrowed as she assessed me. “You’re all sweaty.”

I shrugged. Let her think what she wants. Then my eyes traveled over her body. Felicity was all gussied up, with her winter coat slung over her arm. Gone was the pants suit and in its place was a sage green sweater dress, which was fitting given the chilly weather we were having this winter.

“What’s that?” I gestured to the casserole dish in the crook of her arm.

“Penne al forno.” Felicity held out the dish like a good little Italian girl. “It was hot when it came straight out of the oven, but the taxi took longer than expected and now I’m afraid it is only lukewarm.” When the babbling stopped, Felicity lowered her gaze to my sternum, and just stood there with the damned pasta in hand. Her gaze felt hard enough to drill a hole through my six pack.

“Come on in,” I finally replied, gesturing behind me.

But Felicity interrupted, still not meeting my gaze. “Wait, Marcus, just a moment.” Her eyes squeezed closed as she forced the next words out. “I am here to apologize for being a bitch this afternoon. You did well today.” Her voice faltered at the admission, but she still pushed forward, continuing, “And you’re right, it is your company. You have a knack for this thing and I refused to see it. I was too focused on my…” her voice trailed off.

“On your what?”

She grimaced. “I was mad. I provoked you and I took things too far. For that, I’m sorry.” Felicity took a deep breath and added, “I wanted to kill Harold, but I knew I could fix his stupid blunder. It was actually you who I wanted to hurt… to yell at.”

“And I was an ass.” I reached out and tipped her chin up. “Why are you so cold and aloof? Has so much happened in the last six years that we can’t be civil toward each other?”

She opened her mouth and I could see the excuses were on her lips. I laid a finger on those plump twin lines. “I’m not prying into your life or trying to get you into bed.” I watched a lovely blush bloom over her olive cheeks as I added, “But I need to know why you hate me.”

“I don’t hate you. I thought I did, but I don’t,” Felicity whispered. Then she pulled her face back from my touch. “When I do wrong, I acknowledge it. I have been treating you badly. You didn’t set out to hurt me or to break my heart. And now you don’t deserve me being a bitch. So, here is the pasta.” She thrust it out to me, forcing me to take it or let it fall on the ground. “I’m sorry that I let my feelings interfere with our business. The business should come first.” Felicity then turned and tried to dash away.

Grabbing her fleeing form, I pushed her into the wall of the hallway to stop her retreat. “That’s not good enough.” I leaned into her space and my words came out harder than I would have liked. “What do you mean ‘I didn’t set out to hurt you’?”

Felicity pursed her lips and gave her a head a little shake. Choosing to remain silent, I let my body push her into the admission instead of using my words to pry it out of her. Eventually, she blew out a big breath of air and screeched out a frustrated sound. “Fine. Here it is. I put myself out there—even though I was dead scared to. Just wait, it gets better.” Pushing her petite body away from the wall, she tried to force me back. Her words tripped over each other in a rush to spill them. “The nuns? Those dammed creatures, they said it was wrong. But I was a good girl. I listened to every fucking word that came out of their mouths. So I felt really guilty, but hey, everyone else was doing it. And we finally had sex—lots of it, that spring.”

“I never knew, city slicker,” I whispered when she paused for air. “I don’t remember you being a virgin. You didn’t tell me.”

“I got us both so drunk that first night. I didn’t want it to hurt and I was embarrassed. I wasn’t as worldly as you, but still.” Tears pricked in her mocha eyes. Her voice dropped and she gave me a little shove. “I wanted to keep you.”

“Felicity, I didn’t need to have sex with you. If you felt forced—”

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