Take a Chance on Me

Chapter Nineteen



“I don’t want to meet your mother,” Maddie said, completely horrified. She stared at the attractive older woman with champagne-blond hair, wearing a pale tan linen suit and standing on Mitch’s porch.

Mitch laughed. “Yeah, well, today isn’t exactly going as planned, is it?”

Maddie bit her lip. “I know. It’s a mess. We didn’t even get a chance to talk. . . .” She felt herself flush ten shades of scarlet as the images filled her mind of them, wild and abandoned in the front seat. “In the car.”

Mitch tightened his grip on her hand. “I didn’t give you much of a chance to do anything but get your brains f*cked out.”

With brows slamming together, she angled her head at the woman watching them from the porch. “Your mother.”

“She can’t hear me,” he said almost absently as he contemplated the woman who’d given birth to him as though she were a stranger.

Neither mother nor son rushed to meet each other.

“Are you okay?” Maddie asked. It had been a stressful day, and she wasn’t sure how much more either of them could take.

“Let’s get this over with.” His voice was like the hard blade of a knife.

Their fingers unlaced, and they exited the car. They walked around and he took her hand, striding up the stairs so quickly that she had to rush to keep pace. When they reached the top of the steps, he nodded to the older woman. “Mom, this is a surprise.”

“Mitchell.” She inclined her head. “I’m sorry for arriving unannounced, but you know your father. He’s probably having my calls monitored.”

Mitch smirked. “He’s turned into a paranoid son of a bitch, hasn’t he?”

Amber eyes that matched her son’s flickered, then turned to rest on Maddie.

Mitch slid his arms around her. “Maddie Donovan, meet my mother, Charlotte Riley.”

Maddie held out a hot, sweaty palm and said primly, “Mrs. Riley, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Charlotte’s hand glanced over hers, polite but remote. “You too, dear.”

Mitch hugged Maddie more tightly. “What can I do for you?”

Maddie cringed at his words and gave him a little nudge with his elbow. “I’m sure your mom has had a long ride. Maybe you should invite her in.”

“Yes, thank you,” Charlotte said, her expression warming a smidgen when her lips curved in the barest hint of a smile.

Mitch sighed and went to the door, tugging Maddie along as though she might try to run away if he let go. When they walked into the foyer, Maddie’s gaze immediately fell on the mirror. She blanched.

She looked horrible. With flushed cheeks, rumpled clothes, and hair a rat’s nest, she looked like she’d been doing, well, exactly what she had been doing. Unable to help herself, she examined her neck, and found a red spot, glowing like a neon sign, where Mitch had bit her. Pulling free from Mitch’s grasp, Maddie fussed with her hair to hide the mark.

He threw his key on the accent table, the clang of metal against wood too loud in an already tense room. The three of them stood, warily watching each other while they waited for someone to break the ice.

It sure as hell wasn’t going to be her. Maddie pressed her lips together as she fought the urge to babble.

Finally, Mitch put her out of her misery by pointing to a suitcase near his mother’s expensive tan pumps. “Are you planning on staying?”

“May I?” Charlotte asked. Her tone was cool, but something flickered in the older woman’s gaze. Something sad and hurt.

Why wouldn’t she be? Her husband’s alleged affair with another woman had been splashed over every media outlet in the modern world. Maddie’s heart warmed in sympathy and she asked, “Do you want some lemonade? It’s homemade.”

Charlotte gave her a hesitant smile. “That would be lovely, dear.”

Maddie practically ran to the kitchen, pulling out glasses and filling them with ice. She busied herself while Mitch and Charlotte walked through the swinging door to sit down at the table in stony silence.

The glass rattled as she placed the fresh lemonade in front of them and stared at the empty seat. She glanced at Mitch, smoothing her shorts. “I’m going to take a shower.”

Mitch shook his head. “Sit.”

She backed away. “Really, I’m a mess and I don’t want to intrude.”

Mitch scowled at the chair.

Maddie slid a glance at Mitch’s mother.

“Please,” Charlotte said, gesturing gracefully at the chair.

With a sigh, Maddie grabbed her glass and sat.

Mitch’s shoulders relaxed and he turned his attention to his mother. “So, you’re staying?”

“Is that all right?” she asked politely, as though they were strangers instead of family.

“Are you asking?” Mitch’s long fingers encircled the glass.

An expression of longing flittered over Charlotte’s expression before it smoothed over into a bland mask. “Yes, I’m asking. I need some peace as I work things out and didn’t know where else to go.”

“It’s your house,” Mitch said, his eyes filled with a coldness that was hard to reconcile with the man who’d practically incinerated her with heat not thirty minutes ago.

“Not anymore. You bought it from me fair and square, even though I insisted on giving it to you.” She raised her glass and took a delicate sip.

Mitch rested his elbows on the table and gave his mom a hard-eyed stare.

Appalled, Maddie nudged his knee under the table, but he said nothing to put the older woman at ease. Maddie scowled at him, but when it was clear he wasn’t going to speak, she turned a bright smile on Charlotte. “I’m sure Mitch would be happy for you to stay.”

A deep sadness filled Charlotte’s eyes. “Mitchell, I’m sorry.”

Under the table, his leg slid next to Maddie’s, pressing close as though seeking her comfort and warmth. “It’s over. Forget it.”

“I was wrong.” The older woman’s long, tapered fingers clasped tightly in front of her.

“Doesn’t matter,” Mitch said, his tone indicating that it certainly did.

Whatever had happened was a private and painful matter, and as curious as Maddie was, she could no longer sit here and listen. Maddie shifted in her chair. “I, um, should go—”

Mitch’s hand shot out and gripped her wrist. To the casual observer, his tanned fingers entwined over her pale skin looked loose, light—a gentle hold between lovers. Except it was like a vice, making it impossible to get away without struggling out of his grasp.


She risked a glance at his mom. Charlotte stared at her son’s hand, then raised her gaze to meet Maddie’s. The questions were clear under the Junior League mask of banality.

Maddie took a deep breath. Okay, they didn’t want her to go. Maddie settled in the chair, prepared to wait out the uncomfortable conversation. Mitch loosened his hold but didn’t release her.

Mitch’s chin jutted out. “How long will you be staying?”

“I don’t know.” Charlotte’s eyes slid away. “I don’t want your father to know where I am.”

Mitch laughed, a harsh bitter sound. “God knows he’ll never look for you here.”

Charlotte pressed the tips of her fingers to her lips, and Maddie thought she detected the barest tremble.

“So, did he do it?” Mitch asked.

“I don’t know.” Charlotte looked over her son’s shoulder and out the window. “He says it was some crazy setup.”

“For what?” Mitch’s fingers stroked Maddie’s inner wrist.

“For money, what else?” The older woman pressed a hand to her chest. “He wants me to pay her.”

Mitch shook his head. “That’s crazy. The pictures are already out there, how much more damage can she do?”

“Those pictures are only the tip of the iceberg.”

“Start from the beginning, and don’t leave anything out.” The voice he used was one Maddie had never heard before, and in that moment, she had no trouble picturing him as a shark of a lawyer: ruthless and powerful.

Nothing like the man who’d made love to her like she was his salvation.

“She said the media must have been tipped because she wasn’t going to release anything until she’d made her demands. An unfortunate coincidence, if you will. If we pay her, she’ll go on record and say the picture was a misunderstanding. Yes, his reputation will be tarnished, but not unrecoverable. If we don’t pay, she has other pictures that are much, much worse.”

“Have you seen them?” Mitch let go of Maddie. He sat forward, resting his elbows on the table.

She nodded, the dipping corners of her mouth the only evidence of her distress. “They’re very damaging.”

“How’d he explain those?”

“He can’t. He says she called because she had insider information on a senator opposing one of his bills. He invited her to his room to discuss the matter. They had a drink and it was the last thing he remembers until the next morning.”

Mitch’s eyes narrowed. “Convenient. What did the pictures look like?”

“You can’t see his eyes, he’s mostly in profile. It’s hard to tell if he’s awake or not.” She shook her head. “Not that the papers will care about those details.”

“Do you believe him?” Mitch asked.

Charlotte’s expression crumpled for a split second before she regained her composure. “I don’t know. She’s young and very beautiful. Maybe this time he gave in to temptation.”

Mitch got up from the table and walked to the sink, peering out into the backyard for a good two minutes before turning back. The calculation was clear in the set of his jaw and glint in his eyes. “How much does she want?”

“A million,” Charlotte said, stating the number as though she were rattling off an item on her grocery list.

Maddie tensed.

“That’s a lot for a senator caught f*cking his intern,” Mitch said in a hard tone.

“Mitchell!” Charlotte blanched, her gaze fluttering down.

“What else?” Mitch asked. “There’s got to be more to this story.”

Charlotte reached for a napkin in the middle of the table and started to wipe an invisible spot like Lady Macbeth.

“Spit it out.” Mitch’s voice was so cold that it sent ice water splashing through Maddie’s veins.

His mother blinked, all the color draining from her face. “It seems she’s uncovered the whole sordid story.”

“What. Story.” Mitch fired the words like torpedoes.

“She knows what you did.”

Maddie’s stomach dropped, and her eyes flew to Mitch’s. He raked a hand through his hair. “Son of a bitch.”

“What?” Maddie spoke for the first time, unable to stop the word from flying from her mouth.

Charlotte eyed her son as though looking for direction. Mitch crossed his arms and shook his head.

“Mitch?” Blood rushed through Maddie’s ears. She knew something bad was going down.

He gripped the counter with both hands and leaned back. If he was trying to look casual, he failed miserably. He blew out a long breath. “I didn’t tell you the whole story the other night.”

“And what is the whole story?” Maddie asked, forgetting all about his mother sitting there, watching them.

“When I was trying to find evidence to clear my name I hired an MIT hacker friend of mine to break into Thomas’s files. We didn’t find anything, but we stumbled across something else, a deal Thomas and my father had done. A highly illegal deal that would ruin them.” Mitch met her stunned gaze. “I destroyed the evidence.”

Maddie turned back to Charlotte, still not making the connection.

“Somehow, she found out, and if I don’t pay her she’ll go public,” Charlotte said, suddenly looking twenty years older. “Not only with the affair, but with details about the deal. Somehow she knows what Mitchell did to save his father’s career. A sordid Riley family exposé, if you will.”

Mitch’s expression shuttered over into a cold, blank mask. “How could she possibly know?”

“We don’t know,” Charlotte said, pressing her lips together for a moment before continuing. “But she provided enough details to confirm she’s not lying.”

She pressed a perfectly manicured hand to her chest. “If it was only your father, I’d let him clean up his own mess, but I failed you once and I don’t want to fail you again. It’s not too late for you. In my heart, I know it. I haven’t always been a good mother, but I still have a chance to change that. I can’t let her bring you down with him. Not again. Not after what you sacrificed the last time.”





The headache started in the back of his skull and worked its way over Mitch’s forehead.

Jesus, could this day get any worse?

He dragged his fingers through his hair as he stared at the river meandering slowly downstream. He’d bailed after his mother’s dramatic announcement, needing time alone to think and ponder the state of his meager future.

He sucked in the humid summer air, picked up a stray pebble, and tossed it into the water. It plunked into the center, sending ripples through the smooth surface.

Obstruction of justice was tricky; the sentence ranged anywhere from fines to jail time. The case was old, half of the parties were dead, and the spotlight would be on his father, not him. While it was too hard to predict the penalty of his actions, one thing was certain: he’d be disbarred.

There’d be no getting around that.

The word twisted in his gut like a knife. It shouldn’t matter. He didn’t practice anymore.

But it did.

To realize he harbored hope was like a kick in the gut. All this time he’d convinced himself that he didn’t give a shit about his nonexistent career. But it was a lie. Complete bullshit. Deep down, hidden where he wouldn’t have to examine it, he’d wanted to start again. He hadn’t avoided Luke’s case out of some misguided sense of honor. He’d avoided it so he wouldn’t have to confront the truth. That he had hope.


It was Maddie’s fault. Until she’d come along, slipping past his guard, he’d been content with the numbness. Content to believe he didn’t care about anything or anyone. He’d been fine, happy even, drifting along in oblivion. But then she’d walked into that shithole bar he hated and made him remember what it was like to be alive.

And hope had snuck in.

He skipped another rock into the river, watching the smooth gray pebble bounce over the water’s surface before sinking to the bottom below.

This time, losing everything would be worse. Back in Chicago, he’d had a lifestyle but not a life. Sure, people had surrounded him, but no one had known him, not even Sara. Yes, they’d had sex and passion, but despite the stories they’d told each other, they’d never really been in love. It had been a game. They’d been two bored, unfulfilled people who had needed the challenge and lure of the forbidden to add excitement to their lives. She’d never crawled inside him.

Not like Maddie.

“Here, I brought you a drink.” Maddie’s soft voice came from behind him as though he’d conjured her, blowing over him like a soft summer breeze—a calm, soothing presence in the increasing chaos of his life.

He peered at her over his shoulder and his breath lodged in his chest. Deep red hair blazed like licks of fire in the early evening sun as she smiled down at him. Unnamed emotions pressed in the corner of his mind, wanting to take hold and be named.

He resisted. It was too much, too fast.

She pushed the pale glass of lemonade toward him. “I spiked it with vodka.”

He laughed, surprised he still could. “Thanks, Princess.

She sat next to him on the blanket, and he took the drink, downing half of it in one gulp. It was sweet and tart, with a hint of a kick lurking underneath, just like Maddie.

She dropped her head onto his shoulder and her warm little body snuggled close.

“Wait.” Mitch placed the glass carefully on the grass and lay down. With a tug on her wrist, he pulled her next to him.

The scent of her honey-and-almond shampoo wafted up as her long hair brushed over his skin. She nuzzled close, sliding one smooth thigh over his. His fingers trailed a path over her arms, and he smiled in pleasure when goose bumps broke over her skin, despite the heat. He took a slow breath and the knot that had been coiled tight in his chest unraveled as her small frame curled close. He kept up his rhythmic stroking. Up and down, over and over, until the turbulence eased from his mind. She burrowed more deeply, tracing a path over his stomach. She said nothing, asked no questions and shot no probing glances. In her silence, in her complete understanding of what he needed, another barrier crumbled from between them.

A bone-deep satisfaction and an odd sort of contentment loosened his muscles. His body relaxed. With Maddie lying beside him under the trees, the late afternoon sun peeking through the leaves, and the sound of the river trickling downstream, his eyelids grew heavy and closed.

Some time later, he drifted back to consciousness to find her propped on one elbow, watching him. He blinked, bringing her into crisp focus. “Did I fall asleep?”

She nodded. “You were out like a light.”

He dragged a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” she said, trailing a finger over his jaw. “I could watch you for hours.”

Warmed by the sun and dazed from his nap, he felt lazy, like he never wanted to move again. He yawned. “I’m sure you’d get bored eventually, Princess.”

“No way. You’re an artist’s dream. I hope you don’t mind.” She reached behind her and picked up a piece of paper, which she held out to him.

He took the sheet and was instantly awake.

To his embarrassment, his throat grew so tight he was unable to speak. She’d drawn him in pencil. His lashes brushed his cheeks as he’d slept. The crisp, strong lines accentuated his jaw and bone structure. Somehow, even in black and white with shades of gray, she’d managed to show the cast of the sun on his body, making it look as if he were lit from above. It was uncanny. Her talent was unmistakable.

He cleared the lump sitting behind his Adam’s apple. “Is this how you see me?”

She traced a path over the scrolls of his tattoo. “I see you as you really are.”

He shook his head, unable to think of anything profound. “You are incredibly gifted.”

She plucked the paper from his fingers and scrutinized it with narrowed eyes. “I can see the flaws.”

“I can’t.”

She put the paper down. “It’s the first thing I’ve drawn since my dad died. I’m rusty.”

“I’m honored.” The words were grossly inadequate; he was in awe. “But why are you wasting your talent?”

She frowned, shrugging. “I haven’t wanted to.”

He brushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “Why?”

“I guess after the accident,” she said, her chin trembling enough to tell him that she held back tears, “I didn’t feel like I deserved it. Quitting was my penance. Silly, I know, but I was a teenager. I think my rationale was that he loved that about me, so it was only right it died with him.”

“But why would you think he’d want you to abandon something you’re so good at?” He’d never met her father, but he’d learned enough about him from Maddie to know that he’d never want his child to waste such a gift.

She swallowed, and her eyes closed momentarily before her lashes lifted once again. “He’s dead because of me.”

“Maddie, it was a car accident. It wasn’t your fault.”

“I was driving.”

Shit. He should have guessed. All that guilt, all the bending over backward to make everyone happy. It made perfect sense, but he’d never put two and two together.

The first tear slid down her cheek. “I had my learner’s permit, and I wanted to drive so badly. He was working. He didn’t want to go. But I wouldn’t stop.” She gave a broken sob. “I knew if I kept asking I’d get my way.”

Mitch moved to take her in his arms, but she jerked back, shaking her head. “No.”

He lay back down and didn’t speak.

She drew in a shaky breath. “Sometimes I wake up with the sound of the dangling keys echoing in my ears. The memory of how I waved them in front of his face burned in my brain. I still can see his exact expression as he put down his pen, sighed, and got up from his desk. Do you have any idea how many times I’ve played that scene in my head? How many times I wished I’d taken no for an answer?”

Her shoulders shook as she began to cry in earnest. Mitch wanted desperately to comfort her, but he didn’t reach for her again.

She brushed away the tears with an angry swipe. “I wanted to go to the store to get lip gloss. It was the only makeup my mom let me wear. I had a date with Steve that night. I was driving and laughing. I didn’t like the song on the radio, and I went to change the station. He warned me to pay attention, but I kept flipping. He got mad and yelled at me, pushing my hand away. I looked down, only for a second, but it was too late. I ran a stop sign and a truck plowed into us. Next thing I knew, I was waking up in a hospital room and my whole life had changed.”

She sat up, her movements angry and jerky. “And you know what the worst part of it was?”

“What?” Mitch said, feeling sick to his stomach for what she’d suffered.


“Everyone felt sorry for me. So sorry. God, I hated it. Hated them. They looked at me with pity in their eyes and each time I died a bit more inside. I’d ruined their lives. I changed them forever. And they feel sorry for me.”

“Maddie,” Mitch said, putting his palm over her knee and rubbing.

She buried her head in her hands. “They never say it, never let on, but every time they look at me they have to think about what I did to them. They have to hate me.”

“No.” He’d never met her family, but of this he was sure. Their closeness and unity was clear in the way she talked about them. He knew estranged or strained families, and the Donovans weren’t like them. “They don’t, I promise you.”

She looked at him, her eyes watery and her nose red. “I hate me. Why wouldn’t they hate me too?”

Not caring if she protested, he picked her up and put her on his lap, wrapping his arms around her. He swayed back and forth, the gentle rocking motion meant to soothe away a pain that he couldn’t even begin to erase. “Maddie, you were a kid. Every teenager has worn their parent down. The only difference is that you had horrific, irreversible consequences. I’m sorry—I wish there was something I could do to change that for you—but since I can’t, I can only promise your dad would hate for you to blame yourself like this. For you to let it eat you up inside.”

“I know that here.” She pointed to her head before placing her hand over her heart. “But it’s hard to believe here.”

He lifted her chin and brushed a soft kiss against her lips. “What can I do to make you believe?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “But I’m working on it.”

“I’m sorry, Maddie.”

“I miss him.” She rested her cheek on his shoulder.

He rubbed slow circles over her back. “I know you do.”

She quieted, relaxing into his hold. “You help.”

“I’m glad,” he said. “What else can I do?”

She raised her watery gaze to meet his, and her eyes were so impossibly green, so full of something he didn’t want to name, that he sucked in a breath. “Fight.”