Second Chance Girl (Happily Inc. #2)

MATHIAS WOKE WITH the mother of all hangovers and a beagle licking his face. The previous evening was mostly a blur. He knew Carol had stopped by and they’d talked. At some point, he’d fallen asleep in the living room—hopefully after she’d left. Near dawn, he’d made his way to his bed. He remembered that much, as well as having to push Sophie aside so he could squeeze under the covers. But the rest of it...not so much with the memories.

He got up and winced as bright sunlight burned through his eyes. Note to self, he thought grimly. No more drinking when he was feeling stupid about his lack of talent. It only led to disaster and pushed him a little too close to the Ceallach side of the road. Staying sane meant being his own man.

He let Sophie out and started coffee. While his Keurig worked its magic, he scanned the living room, but nothing was out of place. In fact all the glasses from the previous night were neatly placed in the dishwasher and the salsa and chips had been put away. Had he done that? Had Carol? Jeez, he really hoped he’d stayed awake long enough to escort her to the door. He had, hadn’t he?

Sophie bounced back into the kitchen, her tail wagging. He fed her before retreating to the healing warmth of a hot shower. As he stripped down he remembered the incredible sex dream he’d had, then groaned. Once again Carol had dominated his night. Damn, everything about touching her, kissing her, pleasing her, had been so real. So vivid. If only, he thought with a sigh. But his luck wasn’t that good.

Once he was showered, shaved and dressed, he made his bed and took his second cup of coffee out onto the back patio. Through some quirk of geography or weather, there was still mist clinging to the ground of the animal preserve. The wisps of fog made him think of fairies or maybe just trolls.

Before he could decide which was more likely in Happily Inc, a couple of gazelles raced into view. They tore across the damp grass with the energy of schoolchildren being released for the day. He sat down and reached for his sketch pad. As he picked up a pencil, something nibbled at the back of his mind. Something about the previous night. Had he said something? What was it he couldn’t remember?

Before he could pursue the lack of thought, Millie stepped into view. She moved more slowly than the gazelles, as if each step required planning. Or maybe she was just sad. He wished there was a way to let her know that Carol was working the problem. That as soon as there was money a herd would be purchased and—

Carol joined Millie. It was something she did nearly every morning. Only this time was different. Mathias wasn’t sure how he knew that, but as he watched, every part of him went on alert. Something had changed. Something had happened or was going to happen or—

Carol spoke. Mathias saw her lips move. Millie bent down just as Carol looked up. Sunlight broke through the mist and in that moment, the giraffe and the woman nearly touched.

The image was perfect—all lines and curves. Friendship, maybe love, surrounded them. Carol’s chin was raised, Millie’s neck arched. There were trees behind them, a hint of mist and the light from the sun. Everything was exactly as it should be, he thought as he drew frantically. This was what he’d been waiting for and now he knew exactly what he had to do.

He finished the drawing, then went inside and made copies of it before heading to the studio. After dropping Sophie off with Natalie, he began the painstaking process of turning glass into magic.

It took hours. Nick joined him and together they heated, formed, rolled and discarded different pieces. Finally, as the sun headed toward the western horizon, Mathias set a ten-inch giraffe on his desk and studied it.

There weren’t as many details as he would like, but that would come with size and practice. Still, progress had been made. The piece looked like Millie. Even more important, there was a sense of movement, as if the giraffe would take the next step any second.

“Damn,” Nick breathed. “You nailed it. What’s next?”

“I do it again, only bigger.” The final piece would be maybe three feet high, he thought absently, turning the glass around on his desk. Millie leaning down and Carol looking up. Tomorrow he would make his first attempt at creating Carol out of glass. Once he had worked out the basics in the smaller piece, he would make that one larger, as well. And then...

He stood and studied the giraffe. He had no idea what happened after that, but he was okay with the uncertainty. It had been years since he’d created something other than dishes and pendant lights. Years since he’d been willing to take a chance.

The last time, he’d been all of nineteen. Mathias did his best to ignore the past, but it flooded him with detailed memories and once again he could see the swirling abstract design—part star, part wave, color pulsing in every curve. He’d stunned himself with its beauty and had sensed down to his gut it was the best thing he’d ever done.

Both Nick and Ronan had been silent—as if they had no idea what to say. Their looks of admiration and envy had been enough. He’d known he’d nailed it. Known this piece was going to be the one to put him on the map. He would be more than Ceallach’s talented son—he would be famous in his own right.

He’d waited anxiously for his father to see what he’d done. Waited for judgment to be pronounced. Ceallach had slowly walked around the pedestal, had frowned and said nothing. Mathias had waited confidently, ready to be told he was good enough.

His father’s expression had hardened into distaste. “Garbage,” he’d growled, before pushing the pedestal and causing the huge, glorious swirling, living thing to tumble to the ground and shatter into a thousand pieces.

All three brothers had stared in disbelief. Ronan had spoken first.

“You’re jealous,” Mathias’s twin had shouted. “That’s why you did it. You know he’s better than you and you can’t stand it.”

Ceallach’s next swipe of his fist had been to his son’s face. Mathias had pulled Ronan back while Nick had shoved their father out of the studio. They’d stood there together, their breathing loud in the silence.

“You have to make it again,” Nick said at last. “You have to show him.”

“Nick’s right. We’ll get it out of the studio before he can destroy it. He’ll be forced to admit you’re the one who’s going to beat him.”

Mathias hadn’t said anything. He’d walked out into the woods around their house and had stayed gone for two days. When he’d returned, he’d started making dishes and bowls, mugs and basins.

He shook his head and returned to the present. The small statue of Millie still stood in the center of his desk. He touched the cool, smooth glass. No matter what, Ceallach wasn’t going to take this away from him. That he knew for sure.

*

“WHAT?” VIOLET DEMANDED the second she sat down at the small table.