Page 41 of First Chance

Damaged goods.

No one wanted to be dragged into the depths of hell that was my new reality, anyway.

Even being near me is a risk to Jo’s reputation.

Normally, I’d stand at her approach, a gesture hardwired into my brain as a man who was raised to respect women, but my frame would only draw attention to our association.

I stay seated.

My existence is bleak, and she has so much to look forward to; I don’t want my disease to spread.

“I already have two companies that have vowed to donate to Second Chance Sanctuary,” she tells us proudly.

“Vowed? What does that mean?”

“It means they’ll go to work on Monday morning and tell their assistant to write a check.” She winks, making Jordy and Arizona cheers her with their drinks across the table.

She glances around like she’s looking for a chair, and I kick Seiver’s seat, encouraging him to go take a trip to the bar. He takes the hint humorously, raising his arms as he stands. “I need to stretch my legs. Can I get ya a drink, Jo?”

“Vodka-water with a lime wedge, please.” She takes his seat before noticing all of our grimaces. “It’s not that bad.”

“You don’t like beer, but you like that?”

“I like beer.”

I look at her curiously. I thought she was tipsy the night we played pool, but she had barely had a sip when I took her can. I assumed it’s because she wasn’t a fan of the taste.

“It has too many calories,” she adds.

“Jesus Christ,” I mutter to myself. She has the most perfect body I’ve ever seen, and she’s worried about calories.

“Trust me, if you had someone mocking you relentlessly the moment you hit double-digit sizes, you’d watch what you consumed, too.”

“Aren’t all adults double-digit sizes?”

She snorts. “Not women’s sizes. I needed a ten by the time I was 20, and my mother held an intervention and told me to get liposuction.”

“I don’t know what any of that means.”

She rolls her eyes at me but doesn’t elaborate.

“That person right there.” She leans near me, pointing across the room toward the stage. “They own all the biggest hospitals in the state.”

Someone at the table next to us side-eyes me and Jo, and I instinctively, but reluctantly, put a couple more inches of space between us.

“And that woman is Miss North Carolina. She lost to me during the Miss Teen pageant and hates my guts. Even though I stopped competing she talks shit about me every time we’re in the same room.”

She leans closer again, completely oblivious to what people might think of her association with me, and whispers. “That’s my brother, Conrad.”

Beside the tall, slender man she’s pointing to is someoneI recognize. “That’s our Mayor, Randall Porter. He showed up the day after my grandfather died with his mother and offered to buy my property.”

“Wow, no wonder he wants to be in cahoots with my brother. Seedy politicians always gravitate toward each other.”

“You really think that about your own brother?”

“I don’t think… Iknowhe’s rotten. He takes after–”

“Your father,” I interrupt, seeing the tall politician walk into the room.

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