“Who are you and what have you done with my brother?”
“Just shut up. If you can’t do anything other than stand there looking vaguely amused at the fact that I’m going through a personal crisis, then you can go straight to hell without passing Go or collecting two hundred dollars.”
“I’m not going to be able to afford Park Place anyway, because you aren’t out there getting new investors.”
“I’m serious, Sam,” Chase shouted, throwing his hammer down on the ground. “It’s all fine for you because you hold everyone at a distance.”
Sam laughed. The bastard. “I hold everyone at a distance. What do you think you do? What do you think your endless string of one-night stands is?”
“You think I don’t know? You think I don’t know that it’s an easy way to get some without ever having to have a conversation? I’m well aware. But I don’t need you standing over there so entertained by the fact that...”
“That you actually got your heart broken?”
Chase didn’t have anything to say to that. Every single word in his head evaporated like water against molten metal. He had nothing to say to that because his heart was broken. But Anna wasn’t responsible. It was his own fault.
And the only reason his heart was broken was because he...
“Do you know what I said to Dad the day that he died?”
Sam froze. “No.”
No, he didn’t. Because they had never talked about it. “The last thing I ever said to him was that I couldn’t wait to get away from here. I told him I wasn’t going to pound iron for the rest of my life. I was going to get away and go to college. Make something real out of myself. Like this wasn’t real.”
“I didn’t realize.”
“No. Because I didn’t tell you. Because I never told anybody. But that’s why I needed to fix this. It’s why I wanted to expand this place.”
“So it isn’t really to harness my incredible talent?”
“I don’t even know what it’s for anymore. To what? To make up for what I said to a dead man. And for promises that I made at his grave... He can’t hear me. That’s the worst thing.”
Sam stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Is that the only reason you’re still here?”
“No. I love it here. I really do. I had to get older. I had to put some of my own sweat into this place. But now...I get it. I do. And I care about it because I care about it, not just because they cared about it. Not just because it’s a legacy, but because it’s worth saving. But...”
“I still remember that day. I mean, I don’t just remember it,” Sam said, “it’s like it just happened yesterday. That feeling... The whole world changing. Everything falling right down around us. That’s as strong in my head now as it was then.”
“How many times can you lose everything?” Chase asked, making eye contact with his brother. “Anna is everything. Or she could be. It was easy when she was just a friend. But...I saw her in my house the other morning cooking me breakfast, wearing my T-shirt. For a second she made me feel like...like that house was our house, and she could be my...my everything.”
“I wouldn’t even know what that looked like for me, Chase. If you find that...grab it.”
“And if I lose it?”
“You’ll have no one to blame but yourself.”
Chase thought back to the day his parents died. That was a kind of pain he hadn’t even known existed. But, as guilty as he had felt, as many promises as he had made at his father’s grave site, he couldn’t blame himself for their death. It had been an accident. That was the simple truth.
But if he lost Anna now... Pushing her away hadn’t been an accident. It was in his control. Fully and absolutely. And if he lost her, then it was on him.
He thought of her face as she had turned away from him, as she had gotten into her truck.
She had trusted him. His prickly Anna had trusted him with her feelings. Her vulnerability. A gift that he had never known her to give to anybody. And he had rejected it. He was no better than he had been as an angry sixteen-year-old, hurtling around the curves of the road that had destroyed his family, daring it to take him, too.
Anna, who had already endured the rejection of a mother, the silent rejection of who she was from her father, had dared to look him in the face and risk his rejection, too.
“I’ll do it,” Sam said, his voice rough.
“What?”
“I’m going to start...pursuing the art thing to a greater degree. I want to help. You missed this party tonight and I know it mattered to you...”
“But you hate change,” Chase reminded him.
“Yeah,” Sam said. “But I hate a lot of things. I have to do them anyway.”
“We’re still going to have to meet with investors.”
“Yeah,” Sam replied, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “I can help with that. You’re right. This is why you’re the brains and I’m the talent.”
“You’re a glorified blacksmith, Sam,” Chase said, trying to keep the tone light because if he went too deep now he might just fall apart.
“With talent. Beyond measure,” Sam said. “At least my brother has been telling me that for years.”
“Your brother is smart.” Though he currently felt anything but.
Sam shrugged. “Eh. Sometimes.” He cleared his throat. “You discovered you cared about this place too late to ever let Dad know. That’s sad. But at least Dad knew you cared about him. You know he never doubted that,” Sam said. “But, damn, bro, don’t leave it too late to let Anna know you care about her.”
Chase looked at his brother, who was usually more cynical than he was wise, and couldn’t ignore the truth ringing in his words.
Anna was the best he’d ever had. And had been for the past fifteen years of his life. Losing her...well, that was just a stupid thing to allow.
But the thing that scared him most right now was that it might already be too late. That he might have broken things beyond repair.
“And if it is too late?” he asked.
“Chase, you of all people know that when something is forged in fire it comes out the other side that much stronger.” His brother’s expression was hard, his dark eyes dead serious. “This is your fire. You’re in it now. If you let it cool, you lose your chance. So I suggest you get your ass to wherever Anna is right now and you work at fixing this. It’s either that or spend your life as a cold, useless hunk of metal that never became a damn thing.”
* * *
It had not gone as badly as she’d feared. It hadn’t gone perfectly, of course, but she had survived. The lowest point had been when Wendy Maxwell, who was still angry with Anna over the whole Chase thing, had wandered over to her and made disparaging comments about last season’s colors and cuts, all the while implying that Anna’s dress was somehow below the height of fashion. Which, whatever. She had gotten the dress on clearance, so it probably was. Anna might care about looking nice, but she didn’t give a rat’s ass about fashion.
She gave a couple of rat’s asses about what had happened next.
Where’s Chase?
Her newfound commitment to honesty and emotions had compelled her to answer honestly.
We broke up. I’m pretty