Easy Charm by Kristen Proby
“I know that feeling,” I reply with a nod. “Men are jackasses.”
“Amen.”
“I’m Gabby.”
“Callie,” she replies and picks up a pair of sexy red stilettos. “These are hot.”
“Super hot,” I agree. “And designed to make a man’s tongue fall out of his mouth.”
“Hmm, that wouldn’t be a bad thing.” She turns them over in her hands. “I’ll try an eight, please.”
“Sure thing.” I fetch the shoes and return to Callie, dying to ask her lots of questions. “Are you from here?”
“Yes, ma’am,” she says and slips her feet into the shoes, then struts around the shop expertly. “Oh, these are amazing.”
“They make your legs look six feet long,” I reply with envy. “And that peep toe shows off your pedicure.”
“I’ll take them.”
“Perfect.” Callie joins me at the register. “So, who are you trying to kill with these shoes?”
She laughs and hands me her debit card. “A man that makes me crazy. I either want to deck him or climb him. There doesn’t seem to be an in-between.”
“Well, these shoes are badass.”
“And I can wear them to work,” she says with a nod.
“What do you do?”
“I own a club just a few blocks over. I’ve walked past this store dozens of times and I’m addicted to shoes, so I had to come in.”
“Isn’t it in our DNA to be addicted to shoes?” I chuckle and bag her purchase add tissue paper, and walk around to pass her bag to her. “Thanks for coming in.”
Callie smiles and waves as she leaves the shop, and I mentally thank Charly. I need this distraction.
I didn’t think about Rhys at all for about ten minutes. The mental picture of his amazing arms and abs never once entered my brain. Or the way he would smile that smile that he reserved just for me. Or the way his eyes would drift closed every time he first pushed inside me, then whisper fucking hell, Gabrielle because it felt so damn good.
Nope, didn’t think about any of that.
Baby steps. That’s the key.
“I talked to Mama,” Charly announces as she joins me. “She’s going to keep Sam until Sunday’s dinner.”
“She doesn’t have to do that,” I insist, but Charly shakes her head firmly.
“They’ll have fun. And this way you can figure some stuff out and hang out with me for a few days.”
“You’re going to hang out with me?”
“Again, not letting you wallow alone, sugar.” She winks and sets a hat on my head. “That’s a good color for you.”
“I love you, you know.”
“I love you more.”
***
“I’d forgotten how nice it is out here,” Charly says as she swings opposite from me. She’s in a pretty sundress, lazily swaying back and forth. I’m in my usual spot, paging through the reservations coming up this week on my iPad, thanks to the cops for returning it to me. Cindy was fined and spent a night in jail for grand larceny.
And I’m just petty enough to find the thought of Cindy sitting in a jail cell very satisfying.
“I love how the trees make the house so cool,” Charly says with a sigh.
“Me too.”
“Have you heard from Rhys?”
“No.” I don’t look up. The sting of not hearing from him at all is still sharp. It’s like he left and immediately forgot about me. And I miss him, damn it. I got so used to having him here, laughing with him, being in his arms, feeling him next to me while we slept.
And now he’s just gone. And it hurts so fucking bad.
“Maybe you will,” she says optimistically.
“I doubt it.”
“Why?”
“Because he’s a jerk.”
“Oh, come on, sugar. It’s not like he knew you were pregnant and jetted. He didn’t know.”
“I trusted him, Charly. I trusted him with my son, with my heart. I let my guard down, and I don’t do that. I let myself feel something so big for him it consumed me. I knew he would leave eventually, so I put that on me. He didn’t make me love him, but I did all the same. He never said that he wanted to stay, but regardless, he didn’t say goodbye. He didn’t say anything. And I can deal with it when it comes to me, but not when it comes to Sam. Sam idolizes him and Rhys left as if Sam doesn’t matter at all. And that’s bullshit. So he can rot in hell as far as I’m concerned.”
“Gabby, you don’t know why he was called to Chicago, or even if he intends to stay there.”
“Why wouldn’t he stay there? That’s where his team is, his doctors, everything.”
“But until you talk to him, you don’t know. What if there had been an emergency with one of the other players or the coaches? Maybe someone died, or got hurt? Maybe he didn’t have a choice.”
“He hasn’t called once. All he had to do was pick up the phone and explain. He hasn’t. And he took all of his stuff.”
“Your phone has been off for the better part of two days, Gabby. You only turn it on to check messages, which is very unlike you. How do you know he hasn’t tried to call?”
“He hasn’t left a message.”
“Maybe—”
“Look, I appreciate that you’re playing devil’s advocate, but I don’t want to try to guess what he’s thinking. I’m not a mind reader, Charly. And if he’s not going to communicate with me, well, things aren’t going to work out anyway.”
“All I’m suggesting is that you should keep an open mind.”
“So noted.” Keeping my eyes pinned on the iPad, I hear a car driving up the driveway.
“Are you expecting anyone?” Charly asks.
“No. It’s Sunday. The guests are all gone. Someone’s probably lost. It happens all the time.”
The car stops and a man climbs out of it, and my whole world stands still.
“Oh shit,” Charly mutters next to me and is immediately on her feet, pulling her phone out of her bra. “Beau, we need you on the front porch now.”
“Hey, Gabby,” Colby says as he saunters closer. It’s been almost exactly eight years since I saw Colby, and little has changed about him, but as I stare at the man I once foolishly believed I loved, I can’t for the life of me figure out what I found attractive about him before.
“You need to get the hell out of here,” Charly says, her voice hard and mean. But Colby doesn’t even glance at her. He just watches me and continues talking to me.
“You look fantastic. You haven’t changed at all. Your body’s still smokin’, even after having a kid.”
“You’re such a piece of shit,” Charly growls, and suddenly, Beau is with us, coming through the front door.
“Call the police,” he instructs Charly, who steps to the side and does as Beau asks. Without taking his off of Colby, Beau turns to. His face is blank, but his whole body is tight with anger. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
“It’s nice to see you too, Beau,” Colby replies, but he’s still watching me. He’s trying to intimidate me, and eight years ago, it would have worked.
Today, he’s just pissing me off.
“There’s no need to call the police,” Colby continues. “I’m not doing anything wrong.”
“This is private property,” I reply, speaking for the first time. Thank God my voice sounds strong and unwavering, because I’m pretty sure my stomach is in my throat. My hands are shaking, so I clench them into fists. “My property. And I want you off of it.”
“Yeah, I heard you made this old place into a hotel.” He looks around and nods, as though he needs to give me his approval. “It’s real nice.”
“Cut the shit,” Beau snarls. “What the fuck do you want?”
“I want to see my kid.” Colby smiles innocently.
“You signed your rights away,” Beau replies. “You have no legal right to be here.”
“Yeah.” Colby nods thoughtfully. “I did sign that contract, but I was pretty young, and didn
“Bullshit,” Beau spits out between clenched teeth. “Your own lawyer was with you, you piece of shit.”
“Well, I saw a new attorney,” Colby begins and my blood runs cold. “And he seems to think that I have a case here. That I might be able to appeal and have that contract thrown out.”
“You’re out of your fucking mind,” Charly cries. “You weren’t coerced into anything. In fact, it was probably Gabby who was coerced into having sex with you.”
“Oh no, she was more than willing.” He winks at me, making my stomach roll.
I’m going to throw up.
“I’m going to kick your ass,” Beau says calmly. “Again.”
“I should have pressed charges the first time,” Colby replies. “You broke my fucking ribs.”
“You deserved worse,” Charly says. “I’d like to kick your balls into your fucking nostrils.”
“Wow, violence must run in the family.” Colby smirks. “I wouldn’t want my child to be raised in such a volatile situation. That can’t be good for him.”
“Oh, I’ll show you volatile, you slimy piece of shit.”
I can hear another car approaching, but all I can see is Colby and his cold eyes as they bore into mine.
He’s going to try to take my child from me.
It’ll be a cold day in hell before that ever happens. My family has enough money to destroy him, and Beau and Eli would do it without batting an eye.
A car door slams shut, and Charly whispers next to me, “Oh, shit.”
Now what?
I turn to my left and my gaze collides with bright green eyes.
Shit.
Chapter Nineteen
~Rhys~
I can’t reach her. Now Gabby’s phone is turned off, sending me straight to voice mail.
It pisses me the fuck off.
Chicago has been a flurry of activity since I got to town, and I just got to my hotel. I don’t know anyone else’s phone number, so I call Kate.
“What’s up, buttercup?” she asks as she answers the phone.
“I’m in Chicago,” I reply dryly.
“What?” I hear her chair creek as she sits up straight. “Why are you in Chicago?”
“I forgot about a charity thing I was signed up for and couldn’t back out, so I had to rush out of town, and Gabby wasn’t home when I left so I couldn’t explain.”
“Uh oh,” Kate mutters.
“I mean, I did text her, but now I can’t reach her.”
“What did you say in your text?”
“That I was needed in Chicago and I had to leave.”
She’s quiet for a long moment, and then she sounds exasperated as she says, “That’s it?”
“I’ve been trying to call her, Kate.”
“Idiot,” she mutters, making my jaw tick. “What do you want me to do? Do you want me to go out and see her, tell her what’s up?”
“No, that should come from me.”
“I agree.”
“I’m going to have some groveling to do, aren’t I?”
“Oh yeah. Are you sure you don’t want me to go let her know what’s up?”
“I’m sure. I just want to freaking talk to her, and I was frustrated, so I needed to vent. I’ll be back on Sunday and I’ll grovel.”
“Flowers. Flowers work. And things that sparkle.”
Things that sparkle.
“That’s an excellent idea.”
“Flowers are always an excellent idea.”
“No, the things that sparkle.”
There’s another pause, and then my phone is suddenly buzzing. Kate has switched to FaceTime mode.
“Hey.”
“Are you talking about a necklace, or earrings or something?” she asks with narrowed green eyes.
“Or something.”
“Define something.”
“I love her,” I begin and rub my hand over the back of my neck. “She’s mine, Kate. Forever. There is no one else out there for me.”
“You’re going to buy a ring?” she shrieks.
“Damn right.”
“Rhys, I adore Gabby, and I love you more than almost anyone, but it’s only been a couple of months.” She’s frowning the way she does when she’s particularly worried that I’ll do something to screw up, but I know in my heart of hearts that this is right.
“I knew the minute I saw her,” I admit softly. “It was like I was hit with a jackhammer. She’s everything I’ve ever wanted, Kate. She’s all I’ll ever need. The thought of being without her makes me fucking panic.”
“Wow.” Tears fill her pretty eyes and she gives me a goofy smile. “I’m so happy for you.”
I glance at the time and calculate the couple of hours I have before I have to be on set for the commercial.
“I have to go shopping.” I grin at the woman who’s always been more of a sister to me than anything else. “Love you, kiddo.”
“I want photos, Rhys O’Shaughnessy. You’ll need my input.”
“Good point. Okay, I’ll send photos from the jewelry store.”
“Tiffany,” she insists, pointing at me. “If it doesn’t come in a blue box with a white bow, we don’t want it.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Oh my God, you’re buying a ring!” She does a little happy dance in her chair.
“This is our secret, Mary Katherine.”
“Call me Mary Katherine again and I’ll slash your tires.”
“Promise me you won’t tell. Not even Eli.”
She sighs, blowing her lips together in a raspberry, but finally nods. “Okay, I won’t tell Eli, or anyone else. But make it quick.”
“I’ll see her on Sunday.”
I end the call and rush out of the hotel, catch a cab to Tiffany, and spend the next several hours searching for the perfect ring for my girl. I send several photos to Kate, but each time she replies with a simple no.
And I agree, none of them are right. Finally, the saleswoman, who has been exceedingly patient and kind, says, “Wait, I just saw something come in this morning that might be perfect.” She leaves for several minutes and then returns with the perfect ring.
Perfect.
“It’s vintage inspired,” the saleswoman begins. “That means it has an older feel, almost like an heirloom. As you can see, there is etched scrollwork on the sides, with diamonds, and the stone on top is a princess-cut. It’s three total karats.”
It’s so Gabby. She has such a love for tradition, for older styles. I can just see this on her hand.
“I’ll take it.”
“I didn’t even tell you how much it is,” she says with a chuckle.
“It doesn’t matter. It’s hers.”
***
It’s the second day of filming. I’ve had lunches and dinners and other meetings crammed between shooting short scenes for the commercial for the children’s hospital. And in between it all, I’ve taken time to actually sit with the kids.
They’re the best part.
And they make me miss Sam, and so damn thankful that he’s healthy and whole. Having a very sick child must be its own special kind of hell. I didn’t like it when Sam had the flu. I can’t imagine having a child with cancer.
I can feel my phone buzzing in my pocket, but can’t take the time to answer it as I’m once again surrounded by fans and parents of the patients, wanting to say hello and get their baseballs autographed.
When the crowd thins, a petite woman about Gabby’s age approaches me with a shy smile.
“I’m sorry to bother you. My name is Fiona. My son is a huge fan of yours, and I was wondering if you’d be willing to say hi to him?”
“Of course,” I reply with a grin. “Where is he?” I glance around, but I don’t see any little boys nearby.
“He’s in room 432. He
“No problem.” I catch Melanie’s attention. “I’ll be back. I have a fan to go see.”
“We’re done here,” Melanie replies with a smile. “No worries.”
I nod and follow Fiona to her son’s room. He’s lying in the bed, hooked up to IVs and other machines that I’m not smart enough to know what their function is.
He’s completely bald. No eyelashes or eyebrows. But he’s smiling widely, and his dark brown eyes, rimmed with dark circles, are overjoyed.
“You talked him into it!” he exclaims.
“I wasn’t a hard sell,” I reply and shake his hand. “I hear you’re our biggest fan.”
“I’m your biggest fan,” he says and tries to sit. “Mom, will you push me up?”
“Sure, buddy.” She pushes a button and his bed inclines. “But you know you can’t stay this way for long.”
“Just for a little while,” he says. “Are you coming back next season?”
“Absolutely. I wouldn’t miss it.”
“Thank God! They suck without you!”
“Andrew!” Fiona narrows her eyes on her son. “Be nice.”
“It’s okay.” I chuckle and shrug. “I don’t know what to tell you, kid. But I will be back in the spring.”
“Good.”
“How old are you?”
“Seven,” he replies. “I have osteosarcoma in my legs.”
Same age as Sam.
“It means I have bone cancer.”
The fact that a seven-year-old even knows the meaning of the word osteosarcoma makes me sick to my stomach. I sit with Andrew for a long time, talking about baseball and TV shows, and when his eyes are so heavy he can hardly keep them open, I say goodbye, then walk out of the room with Fiona.
“Thank you for that,” she whispers. “He’ll talk about that for the rest of his life.”
“Here’s hoping that’s a very long time.”
She nods, but looks sad when she shrugs. “They’re doing everything they can do. Now we wait and hope it works.”
“Will you keep me posted?” I ask without even thinking. “I’ll give you my email address. I’d like to know that he’s okay.”
She tilts her head to the side, and suddenly she’s in my arms, hugging me tight.