Left To Chance-First Chapter

Left to Chance

(The Chances Are Series, Book 2)

By: C.D. Taylor

Copyright 2014 C.D. Taylor

All Rights Reserved

Cover Design by Greg Simanson

Edited by Joanna Jensen

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.  Any resemblance to similarly named places or to persons living or deceased is unintentional.

ISBN:  To be provided

DISCOUNTS OR CUSTOMIZED EDITIONS MAY BE AVAILABLE FOR EDUCATIONAL AND OTHER GROUPS BASED ON BULK PURCHASE.

For further information please contact info@booktrope.com

Library of Congress Control Number:  To be provided

To my beautiful Bombshells: I have never met a more amazing group of people. You make me laugh each and every day with your pics of sexy men and naughty memes. Thank you for being an inspiration and the best cheering section an author could ask for. Long live my naughty Bombshells!

∞One∞

If someone had told me a year ago that I’d be right where I was, I  would’ve told them they’d lost their mind. But there I sat, draped in a dress I’d never wear again, sipping champagne I wouldn’t normally drink, and watching my closest friends dance together on their wedding day. I felt like an outsider. Like I was looking in on something that wasn’t real. Sure, I could admire the beauty of it, who couldn’t? But my opinion of love and relationships wasn’t one that fit the norm. Did I believe in “happily ever after”? Not really. Who could be happy with one person for the rest of their natural life? I had an inkling of what love is; I love my mom and my cat. But to experience a deep love, an all-consuming love? Nah, it wasn’t for me. I would have to be the person with my face plastered to the window, admiring love like that from afar. There was no room in my life for something like that.

I didn’t doubt that Jake and Emily loved each other. You could see it with each look that passed between them, the small touches they snuck when they thought no one was looking, and the air that surrounded them like a fluffy cloak of happiness. Sometimes it made me want to gag. But I  agreed to support them in the ways they asked. And today it was the duty of Maid of Honor. It wasn’t the ideal way to spend my weekend; traveling to Texas and watching my friends tie the knot. But friendship will cause you to concede to things you despise and be there for those who need you most.

I tore my gaze from the overly happy couple spinning gracefully around the dance floor and stared into the bubbly liquid taking up residence in my fluted glass. The condensation streamed down the sides like it was weeping tears of joy for the momentous occasion. Even the glass was more thrilled than I to be there. I spun the stem around in my fingers, wiping some of the liquid off as I went.

As I sat alone at the white linen covered table, my skeptical admiration of everything around me was soon interrupted. “You look terribly lonely sitting here, Eliza.” Jake’s mom sat down in a chair next to mine.

“Oh, just taking everything in. It’s all so magical,” I said in a pessimistic tone. “How are you doing?” She looked a bit melancholy.

“Oh I suppose I’m alright. A little sad, but I think I’ll survive.”

“I’m hoping that it’s a happy kind of sad?” I watched her dab her eyes with a tissue that she’d pulled from her small purse.

“Of course it is. You’ll understand when you have children of your own. We’re sad to see them spread their wings and fly, but want them to have all the happiness in the world.” She patted my hand. “Well I’d better go dance with my son before they head out for the night. You take care, young lady.”

               I’m sure she had a valid point, but for reasons I wasn’t willing to discuss, I wouldn’t have the pleasure of sharing that experience in the future. By the looks of my life, I would be spending it alone. And I’d become comfortable with that fact. Finding my “one in a billion” wasn’t high on my list of priorities. It was a pain in the ass just to try and date. Every time I tried to jump into the dating pool, I ended up needing a flotation device or wanting to drown the person swimming alongside me. There came a time in a relationship when you were expected to reveal all of your secrets. That was the point when I jumped ship. I had too many things I hid that would’ve scared the pants off the most frightening of monsters. So I waited until the time came and gave the whole “It isn’t you, it’s me” spiel and watched as each prospective relationship headed down the drain. Admitting my insecurities to anyone would’ve been the cue for them to run like their pants were on fire, anyway.  No one in this world is perfect and I wasn’t stupid enough to think so. But men want perfection; they want that sweet little woman who wears an apron and slaves over a hot stove while hoisting a screaming baby on her hip. That wasn’t me. I don’t cook; I believe aprons are a fashion best left in the fifties, and the baby thing? Well that’s an area I didn’t talk about.

The lot of it took a toll on my self-confidence and left me wondering if I had some sort of defect that caused me to be so damn insecure about myself. It was either my insecurities or the fact that the majority of the male population was extreme assholes. My case in point: the almighty player himself that I’d had the unfortunate pleasure of being escorted down the aisle by – Gabe Ellingsworth.

The guy was such a douche bag. He lived his pathetic life not giving a shit about anyone but himself. He was the spoiled rich boy with the proverbial silver spoon in his mouth who expected everyone to bow down to his prominence. The man held his nose up so far that if it became a torrential downpour in the next five minutes, I was sure I’d be watching him gasp for air. Worst of all was the widely-known fact that he used women like we were just another play toy in his life of discards.

He never hung on to a woman longer than it took to screw her brains out and send her packing. As long as I’d known him, that was his pattern. Gabe left a riptide of panties in his wake wherever he went, and if my suspicions were correct he would find a panty dropper at this wedding, just like he did at every event.

It infuriated me when I’d meet people who do nothing but “take,” never deciding it was right to start giving back. That kind of people hurt so many others in the process. Gabe was their poster child.  I tolerated him only because he’s Jake’s best friend, but the man had burned me. I was at the point where I would’ve rather poured gas on him if he was on fire than find water to smother the flames.

He wasn’t the ideal person in my mind to escort me, but this was Jake and Emily’s day, so I sucked up my hatred for a few hours. Ah, the things we do for the people we care about. W hen Emily and I had become good friends, I felt like I finally had someone to talk to. I’d been pretty much on my own since moving to New York and it was nice to know I had a shoulder to cry on. I would do anything for her.

Now that the ceremony was over, I didn’t know what to do with myself. The reception was in full swing and even though I didn’t care to be there, I couldn’t take my eyes off Jake and Emily. I started to feel envy creep up on me. I  don’t become envious of people. I don’t much care what they do. But something about them caused a small spark to ignite inside of me.

Emily loves Jake with such intensity. The way she speaks about him, the way she looks at him, is something to behold. Their wedding day was no different; the image of them together made me burn inside. I wanted that.  I wanted to feel my skin on fire with love and passion, but the pickings were slim. Not to mention my disdaining opinions for relationships.

“May I have this dance?” I heard a familiar voice behind me, interrupting my thoughts.

I turned to find Gabe standing there. “Go fuck yourself.”

“Okay, I deserve that. But seriously Eliza, are you going to hold this shit over my head forever?”

“Probably so, that’s just the way I am I suppose,” I spat out flatly.

“Well that sucks,” he said almost under his breath.

“You have no respect for anyone, especially if she has a set of tits and a vagina, so go find someone else to bother.”

“That’s a little unfair, don’t you think?”

“Life isn’t fair, get over it.”

“I would rather not have your emotional tirades thrown at me during my best friend’s wedding.”

“Big words from such a pea brain. I’ve nothing more to say to you, so like I said before…Go. Fuck. Yourself.”

“Fine, whatever,” he huffed while walking away.

He just didn’t see it. He wanted to place blame on everyone else but himself. Most of the time I figured he’d been giving me shit just to mess with me. But it all came to a head when he decided to try to get in my pants at a baseball game, of all places. Who even does that? Gabe—that’s who. The man was lacking the tact it took to have an intelligent and meaningful conversation with someone of the opposite sex. His form of romance was asking a girl to take her panties off before fucking her silly. I was fully aware there were plenty of men like him out there, but at least the rest of them weren’t shoved in my face several times a week.

I curbed my anger once I saw Emily approaching in her gorgeous gown. “Hey, what are you doing all by yourself over here?” She sat down.

“Just trying to stay out of the way.”

“Is everything alright? You look pissed.”

“I’m fine. I’m trying not to scratch Gabe’s eyes out.”

Emily let out a laugh. “You wouldn’t be the first woman who wanted to do that.”

“He’s such a prick; he thinks he’s entitled to whatever he wants just because his wallet is a little fatter than most people’s. Not to mention, he uses women more than most humans use Kleenexes.” I crossed my arms over my chest.

“Gabe is, well…Gabe. I’ve known him since college and that’s how he’s always been.” Emily tried to soothe my frustration with her gentle words.

“He needs to grow up,” I said a little too loudly.

“I agree whole-heartedly with you on that, but that’s not for us to make him do, you know?”

“Yeah I get it. I just wish someone would knock some sense into him. But on the other hand, I don’t know of anything strong enough to fix that kind of stupid.”

“Someone will someday. Something epic will happen in his life that will make him see the error of his ways. When that happens, Gabe will have no choice but to grow up. It will happen, it always does.” Emily winked.

“Yeah, I suppose you’re right. But enough about captain douche bag, I have a question for you.”

“Okay?” Emily raised one perfectly arched brow in curiosity.

“It’s your wedding day and you aren’t drinking. You didn’t even have champagne when Jake made his toast. What gives?”

“Um, yeah about that.” Emily rubbed her belly.

“Oh. My. God. You’re pregnant?”

She smiled and her cheeks turned a slight tinge of pink. “Yes.”

I threw my arms around her gently. “Holy shit. Congratulations. Does Jake know?”

“I told him after we came back down the aisle.”

“And he’s okay with it?”

“Of course he is; he’s over the moon at the idea. I mean, we wanted to start a family eventually–yeah it’s really soon–but I love him and he loves me, so we’re excited.” She beamed.

“I’m so happy for you, this is amazing.” I felt tears sting my eyes.

“No crying. This is a happy day, so as the queen of the day I order you to get off your ass and go dance—or drink.”

She was right, this was a happy day; I needed to get past the fact that Gabe was an ass and have some fun. “You’re right. Here I go.” I steadied my resolve and headed for the bar. I wasn’t going to let the small stuff get in the way of me having a great time. It didn’t matter how much I despised anyone at this event, I would put on a happy face and party like I was supposed to.

When I got to the bar I ordered a Jack and Coke–my drink of choice.

“Pretty strong drink for a little thing like you.” I could hear the grating voice of my nemesis once again.

“What’s it to you?”

He held up his hands in a defensive gesture. “Whoa, look Eliza, I’m sorry, can we please call a truce for today?”

“Fine, you’re right, it isn’t right to be fighting like a bag of cats at our best friends’ wedding.” He was right; I couldn’t be showing my ass all day. It wasn’t fair to Jake and Emily.

“Bag of cats?” He chuckled.

“The making fun of me begins?” I knew he couldn’t be nice for too long. I rolled my eyes and looked into the dark liquid fizzing around in my glass.

“I wasn’t making fun of you, it was funny, and that’s all.” The devil shot me his signature charming grin that made panties burn off his victims like they were made of the most flammable paper.

“We tend to say goofy stuff like that where I’m from.”

“And where is that?” He stared at me with curiosity. Why did he want to know where I’m from?

“Atlanta.” I tried to state it with as much pride as I could.  I love my home state of Georgia – the Southern charm, the sweet tea and, of course, the history of it all. New York is great but Georgia will always be on my mind.

“Huh, I didn’t know you were from the dirty south…”

“More jokes?”

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry. Can we start over?”

“Sure.” I eyed him skeptically.

“Would you like to dance?” He asked gentlemanly, putting me on high alert.

Against my better judgment I agreed. “Alright, why not.” I threw back the rest of my drink and slammed the small tumbler on the bar. The remaining ice cubes swirled around the inside of the glass, sounding like wind chimes rustling in a slight breeze.

Gabe took my hand in his and I felt as if a static shock moved through my body, causing a shudder to rack my nerves. It was like everything came to life, waking from a deep slumber. I quickly pulled my hand back and stared down at it, wondering what the hell had just happened.

“What’s wrong?” He raised his eyebrows.

“Uh, nothing.” I shrugged it off. Must’ve been the lack of humidity, or possibly I’d been shuffling my feet enough to cause static to build up.

I gently placed my hand back in his and the same thing happened once more. What the hell was going on? I’d experienced some major weirdness lately, but this phenomenon took the cake. I again shook it off as some sort of environmental oddity. But something was still bothering me. Why did I feel strange around him all of a sudden? Why did breathing become harder and my steps feel like each one I took was reaching miles instead of mere inches? I must’ve been drunk already. That had to be the explanation of the strange occurrences happening unexpectedly.

Once we were on the dance floor, Gabe pulled me securely to his chest. A collision of sensations started to overtake me and my body felt like it might explode with feelings I hadn’t felt before. My first instinct was to haul ass away from the unknown, but I’d always kept my word. I told him I’d dance with him, and I was planning on doing just that. During the first few notes of the song, I found myself lifting my face closer to him to breathe in his scent. He smelled of expensive cologne and sexy male. He was sublimely intoxicating, which caused me to tremble from the roots of my fiery red hair to the tips of my bright pink pedicure.

“Are you sniffing me?” He interrupted my olfactory observations.

I could feel heat crawl up my face and knew my pale, lightly freckled cheeks were stained with my embarrassment. “I’m sorry… It’s your cologne, it smells really good.”

“Thanks, you smell good too.” He smiled and took in a shuddering breath of his own, making me tremble more. It wasn’t a huge compliment, but it was a compliment all the same – which were few and far between from someone like him. I’d take it as a win. I noticed his eyes taking inventory of every inch of me as we began to glide in sync around the dance floor. His gaze would drop to the low V in the neckline of my dress that showed a little more cleavage than I’m used to. Then they would come back up to survey my face like an artist memorizing each line for his next work of art. Our eyes locked unexpectedly and my gaze was ensnared in his like a fly caught in a spider web, waiting to be devoured. In those fleeting moments I looked at him for the first time, I mean really looked at him. His eyes are the color of a Caribbean ocean, so blue and deep they make you wish for time just to stare into them and lose yourself. His light brown hair was a bit shaggy but had an edge to it with the way he haphazardly spiked the long top. I had to admit that he is easy on the eyes. No wonder he had zero issues getting women to swoon after him. He could’ve been a Calvin Klein model if he wanted to; he just has that raw sex appeal surrounding him. But through the sexual power he portrayed, I could still tell he had secrets. We all do. But there was something dangerous about him that I couldn’t quite figure out. It scared me that for the first time I wasn’t seeing “Gabe the player,” I was actually looking into the eyes of “Gabe the man.”

I shook myself out of my careening mental observations and went back to focusing on the things I despised about him. I didn’t want to know the real him, if there even was a real Gabe. He was just another dick with a huge bank account.  The man had too much history of shit that I didn’t need to be a part of. If I were a smart person, I would slap on my running sneakers and hightail it the hell away from him. I couldn’t let myself get caught up with someone like him. Men like him threw women like me to the curb after they’d gotten what they wanted. I would just become another notch on his over-priced bed post. As it was, his bedpost probably had so many notches it looked like an intricately-carved totem pole.

“Something wrong?” He asked because my feet stopped moving.

“No I’m fine, I need a break.” I pulled away and tried to gulp in some fresh air. The oxygen we were sharing while dancing was starting to suffocate me.

“We just started dancing.” He pulled me back to him, his heat enveloping every part of me, making me feel like I’d been sunburned to the depths of my soul. Holy shit, I was turned on. What a reaction to have for someone I loathed with every fiber of my being. Of all the people I could have that reaction to, it had to be him. I was in some sort of hell or alternate universe.

“Gabe, this isn’t a good idea.” I felt so uncomfortable. I wanted to crawl right out of my skin and find a safe hiding place. He was hazardous, not only to my body but to my heart if I wasn’t careful. Getting mystified by his signature charm would blow me away if I continued to let him create this spell over me.

He reached up and brushed a hair from my face that’d fallen loose from my up-do. His almost nothing action threw my body into a tailspin instantaneously. “I know. Just dance with me, please?”

I couldn’t help but give in. He’d woven some sort of voodoo on me and I was impossibly weak against his magnetism. The devil was the same way, looking all innocent. But if you stuck around long enough he’d strike, and you’d be left trying to pick up the pieces. I wasn’t strong enough to fight it, though , so I continued to dance with him. One song, I told myself. “Okay,” I whispered as I looked up into his eyes. His lips quirked into a sultry half-smile, showing a tiny dimple in his left cheek.

Maybe there was more to this man than what was on the outside. Maybe I was only seeing the jerk Gabe wanted everyone to see. Surely he was more complex than just a guy who screwed for fun and partied until the wee morning hours on weekdays. I was having the most difficult battle raging inside of me. Get away, or stay and chance throwing myself all over him?

Relief hit me once the last few notes of the song came to a close. “I think I’m going to get another drink, do you want anything?” I offered.

“No thanks.”

I left him on the dance floor and went back to the bar. His scent clung to me, beseeching my body to run back to the man who would only crush me if I dared to play his little game. And that’s all it was to him. A game he’d designed that proclaimed a just single winner in the end –  himself.

I ordered another Jack and Coke and started sipping it while mulling over the enigma of a man who was now dancing with the bride. The bartender looked across the long wooden surface my elbows were perched on and I guess he could tell there was something wrong. I’d always been the kind of person who wore my feelings all over my face.

“You okay, Miss?” The bartender asked.

“Just fine, besides the fact that I’m not nearly drunk enough.” I let out a heavy sigh and pushed a few falling tendrils of hair behind my ear.

He reached under the bar and pulled out an unopened bottle of tequila, holding it up like it was a huge prize on The Price is Right. “Well then, let’s see what we can do about that, shall we? This little beauty will help you forget all of your troubles – guaranteed.”

I grinned evilly. “Bring it on.” Hell, I was at a party for Pete’s sake. I may as well have some fun.

He lined up several shot glasses and poured the shimmering liquid in them one by one–some so full the alcohol sloshed out on the bar. “Here’s the game: After you take a shot, you have to say something about yourself that no one knows,” he joked.

“Sounds fun.” Not really. It sounded like a hangover from hell and a bad taste in my mouth. But why not? I’d been buttoned up Eliza for too long, and it was time to let my hair down and have a bit of fun.

He placed a bowl of fresh lime wedges on the bar top along with a salt shaker. He then pushed a shot toward me and chuckled. “Bottoms up.”

I threw back the first one and it burned like hell all the way down. My throat felt as if it might catch on fire if I took too deep of a breath. Okay, so I wasn’t nearly soused enough to do tequila shots, but his little game seemed rather intriguing.

I spilled my first secret. “I have a major crush on Brad Pitt!” I yelled while thumping the shot glass back on the bar.

Everyone at the bar started laughing hysterically. I took another shot. “I have a Backstreet Boys poster on my bedroom wall!” They continued to laugh uproariously at my antics. I couldn’t help but cackle along. This truly was humiliating, but fun at the same time.

By the ninth shot, I was feeling no pain whatsoever. My inhibitions were completely gone and I was pretty sure I couldn’t feel my face–or if I even still had a face, for that matter. I grabbed what I think was the tenth shot. My reaction time was delayed and it was like seeing everything happening in slow motion as I raised the small glass to my numb lips.

A warm hand touched my shoulder, so I turned to see who it was. Gabe was standing there with a concerned look on his face. I tossed down the shot, which tasted like pure water at that point. The small crowd I’d drawn was waiting anxiously for my next secret. I swallowed the liquid and shouted out my final secret before my brain could override my mouth.

“I’m a virgin!”.