Second Chance Girl (Happily Inc. #2)

Carol must be proud, he thought. She’d accomplished so much with only a little help. He was glad for his part in what was happening. He wondered if she thought of him much at all or if she’d put him behind her. As for himself, he was living on the ragged edge.

He’d known being without her would be tough, but he’d figured he would start to bounce back in a few weeks. No such luck. He couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat. It was as if Carol was his entire world and without her, there was no reason to get up in the morning. He was going through the motions because he didn’t want to hear any crap from his brothers, but he was starting to think they weren’t fooled.

He told himself he needed to get back on the horse, so to speak. That he should find some pretty bridesmaid and make sure they both had a good time. Only he didn’t want to. His bed might be cold and empty, but the only way to fill it was with Carol.

He missed her. He missed her laugh, her smile, her touch, her warmth. He missed talking to her and laughing with her. He missed knowing he could look forward to going to The Boardroom with her. Sometime when he hadn’t been paying attention, she’d become everything, and without her, there was nothing.

Which left him at a crossroads. What did he do? Assuming he was going to get over her was one possibility, but based on what had happened so far, he had his doubts. That left sucking it up and taking a chance. Something he’d never been willing to do before. But maybe he no longer had a choice—not when Carol was on the line.

He watched her and her father drive back to the main barn, then turned his attention to Millie and her herd. They were so beautiful in the morning light. Both awkward and elegant, completely out of place on the edge of the California desert, yet completely at home.

His cell phone chirped. He pulled it out of his pocket and stared at the single word text.

Well?

Atsuko had been pushing him for weeks. She wanted to have a one-man show for him. Worse than that, a one-man show with a single piece. The statue he’d done of Carol and Millie.

While he appreciated her support, he didn’t understand the point. He was never going to make anything like that again. As for selling it, he had his doubts. Did he want it to go to someone else? Although keeping it was pointless and based on what had happened, or not happened between them, there was no way Carol would want it.

Sure, he texted back, then turned his back on the giraffes and walked into the house.

*

CAROL’S STOMACH WAS not happy. The churning, cramping pressure made it hard to relax. Not that she’d thought she would be able to be anything but nervous, but her tummy’s emotional meltdown wasn’t helping.

Mathias’s show was that night. She’d been invited, along with everyone else she knew. When she’d sent her regrets—because there was no way she could face him in such close quarters in front of all her friends, plus what if he brought a date—Atsuko had asked her to stop by the gallery before the event. Because there was something Carol had to see.

Which all sounded mysterious, and not in a happy I have your favorite flavor of ice cream kind of way. But Atsuko had been amazing with the fund-raiser and had made Carol’s dreams of a herd possible, so saying no wasn’t exactly an option. Telling Atsuko she’d already seen enough of Mathias’s work, thank you very much, wasn’t polite, or true. Honestly, she would love to spend the rest of her life looking at his creations. Which was why three hours before the event, she parked in front of the gallery and told herself she was strong and powerful and going inside would be no big deal.

She’d already circled the block, checking for Mathias’s Mercedes. It wasn’t there. As the star of the show, he would wait to show up until the evening started. It was just going to be her and Atsuko. There was no reason to worry. Not that her stomach was listening.

She got out of her Jeep and went into the gallery. The main room was empty and relatively dark. She looked around, trying to get her bearings.

Once again the display cases had been rearranged. Most of them were gone. The few that remained were filled with examples of his everyday work. Dishes and vases and bowls. There was a collection of his more whimsical pieces and samples of his new Millie-inspired dishes.

Atsuko appeared from the shadows and smiled. “Carol. You made it. I’m so glad. Just give me a second to put the lights on.”

She walked to the wall and played with the switches. For a second the gallery went completely dark, then three overhead lights came on in the center of the room, illuminating a low pedestal and the piece sitting on it.

Carol stared, unable to move or breathe. Tears filled her eyes and her throat tightened. What had he done?

The glass statue was in two parts. There was a beautiful Millie about three times the size of the one Mathias had given her. The features were all there, the markings, the essence of movement. Millie bent her long neck, as if to touch the woman standing in front of her. A woman who looked so familiar.

Somehow Carol found herself standing right next to the piece, even though she couldn’t remember walking toward it. She stared at the face, at the clothing and recognized herself. She was reaching up to Millie as Millie leaned down. They were connected—two different species bound by trust and affection.

How had he done this? And when? The logical side of her was in awe of his brilliance. The technique, the talent. The man was incredible and the world a better place for what he created. But the rest of her saw something else. Something more.

At first she didn’t want to believe. No, she told herself. That wasn’t true. At first she was afraid to believe. Afraid to trust what both her heart and her eyes beheld. Because the true genius of what he’d done wasn’t in the beauty, or the movement or the connection, it was in the love. His love for both his subjects radiated from the very core. It grew until the viewer had no choice but to feel it, too.

She let the warmth wash over her, chasing away fears and doubts. She’d always worried about not being special enough. She’d lived an emotional half-life because of that fear. She’d nearly lost Mathias because she hadn’t been brave enough to tell him the truth and expect the very best of him.

Emotions grew and clashed and swelled before settling into a certainty that eased her stomach and soothed her heart.

“Thank you,” she told Atsuko. “I have to go.”

She drove to Mathias’s house and ran to the front door. She tried to think of what she was going to say, but she couldn’t focus enough. Not with the truth right there. Did he know what he said with his art? Had it been a message or happenstance?

He opened the door and stared at her in surprise. “Carol?”

He had on suit pants and a white shirt. Because he was getting ready to go to his showing. Because he was a famous artist and she was just—

No. No! She wouldn’t assume, wouldn’t be less than. He loved her and she loved him and that was what mattered.