Perfect
Odds
by
Lashanta Charles
Genre:
Contemporary Romance
Calista
Brenner refuses to let go of her past. She had her entire life
figured out…except, maybe that was only in her mind. Being stood up
for her own wedding should be a clue. Regardless, she’s determined
to fix this. She just needs a plan and if there’s one thing she’s
good at, it’s planning. It doesn’t matter that she’s a
whirlwind of clumsy chaos. All she has to do is stay away from the
gorgeously irritating Jayce Cranston and her wedding-her life-will be
back on track. That’s exactly what she wants. Right?
Jayce
Cranston has somehow let himself be bamboozled. One minute he’s
enjoying his quiet existence in his home in the outskirts of Buffalo,
NY and the next he’s dealing with a beautiful alcoholic and her
penchant for trouble. And with his business manager out of the
office, he has to actually . . . deal with people. Surprisingly, the
little ball of clumsiness is making that task so much easier to
handle.
Neither
of them could have guessed that Calista’s past would decide it
wants to be her future and will stop at nothing to make that a
reality. Could she accept that maybe her carefully laid plans weren’t
as careful as she thought? Will Jayce be able to show her that he’s
worth a chance and, together, their oddities can be perfect?
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Chapter
1
Cali
I
nibble on my thumbnail as I watch the other travelers, clad in the makings of a
summer vacation t-shirts and shorts, moving to and fro. Hot pink backpacks and
black rolling cases bob and weave in a sea of commuters. Our flight is on the
second call of now boarding all passengers and Cameron
has yet to show up or answer my calls. Scanning the crowd, I search for his
clean-cut, freshly shaved face, but come up empty. He’s still not here. A
roiling ball of dread settles into the pit of my stomach. Something must have
happened to him. It’s the only explanation I can think of that would lead to
him not being here.
A
toddler wobbles past me, blonde pigtails bouncing as plump legs struggling to
support the carefree attempt to run, and stepping aside, I smile down at her as
she chants “uh-oh.” How freaking cute is that? I bet she gets into all sorts of
shenanigans. A woman, with identical blonde curls and green eyes, rushes after
her and scoops her up before giggling ensues. She plants a smacking kiss on the
child’s chubby cheeks before pointing and encouraging the child to say “da-da.”
A smiling man with unnaturally white teeth approaches with his arms stretched
out and the child squeals and squirms as she nearly jumps from the woman’s
arms. You can’t witness such a scene and not smile. Two more years and that’ll
be me with my own family—number three on my list of priorities. My phone
vibrates, startling me out of staring at the trio. Relief envelops me like a
warm blanket when I see the picture of Cameron on the screen.
“Where
are you? They’re boarding everyone now. I’ll go ahead and let them know we’ll
make it,” I answer, my phone cradled between my shoulder and ear.
“I’m
not coming,” he says.
I
pause in making my way to the attendant station. Surely, I heard him wrong.
“Hang
on a sec, let me ask them how long we have before they can no longer wait. If
you’re here already it shouldn’t be a problem. You’ll need to hurry. Like,
sprint through the airport or maybe get one of those guys on the carts to give
you a ride somehow.”
The
attendant flashes a smile at me and holds her hand out for my boarding pass.
Her two front teeth are chipped and it makes me think of the time Cameron
chipped his tooth while playing basketball last year. He got it fixed
immediately, so I wonder why she’s chosen to leave hers like that. I move to
give her the passes, but hear Cameron speaking again.
“Cali,
you’re not listening. I’m not there. I’m not coming either.”
Pulling
my boarding pass away from the chipped tooth attendant, I force a smile and
step away for privacy. “What are you talking about, Cameron? I’m here waiting
for you.” As if he doesn’t know that. He helped me load our luggage into the
car before I left this morning. Is this some sick joke he’s pulling right
now?
“Didn’t
you hear me, Cali? I said I’m not coming,” Cameron repeats, his voice harsh and
grating.
I
stare numbly at the ‘now boarding’ screen above the attendant. I heard him the
first two times. It makes as much sense now as it did then—none.
“I
don’t understand. You can’t not come, we’re getting
married. I can see if they’ll schedule us for a different flight. I’m sure it’s
not too late. We’re getting there early enough one day won’t really matter,” I
tell him.
He
lets out an exasperated sigh. He’s annoyed? We’re four
weeks away from our wedding and I’m at the Hartsfield-Jackson International
Airport in Atlanta, Georgia, sans fiancé. I woke up at some ungodly hour,
battled an hour and a half of bumper to bumper traffic to get here and get us
both checked in two hours early, lugged all our suitcases—overweight, I might
add—only for him to call when it’s time to board the flight to New York and
tell me he’s not coming.
Yet, he’s the one who’s annoyed?
“I
don’t know what else to say, Cali. I’m trying to do right by you here. We both
knew this wouldn’t end well. This was a mistake. A huge mistake and you’re only
making it harder. I can’t do this right now. For once, let something go.”
I
don’t even know how to respond to that. A mistake? What
part of this is the mistake? One of the biggest occasions in my life—number one
on the list—is a huge mistake for him? Try as I might, I can no longer speak. ‘We’ didn’t know this wouldn’t end in anything but a
marriage. ‘Do right by me?’ How is standing me up for
our wedding doing right by me? I didn’t ask to marry myself. I didn’t insist on
us having a short engagement or me moving in with him.
I
watch as the attendant lifts a phone to her mouth and smiles. A few seconds
later I hear her disembodied voice over the PA system.
“This
serves as a final boarding call for Delta Flight 1762 with service to Buffalo
New York. All ticketed and confirmed passengers should report to Gate C23 for
immediate departure."
“Look,
I can hear them in the background. You shouldn’t be at the airport alone. Go
back to your parents’ place and we’ll talk more about this later. I have to get
back to work,” Cameron says.
My parents’ place? He’s kicking
me out? And why is he at work? We’re supposed to be
leaving. Like, right now! I open my mouth to speak, not entirely sure what I’ll
say, but I’m cut off by someone roughly bumping my shoulder. Silently, I watch
as my phone crashes to the ground and bounces once before landing, screen up.
It didn’t shatter, but the screen is dark. Cameron probably thinks I hung up on
him. It’s much less than he deserves at this point.
“Sorry,
didn’t see you there.”
Story of my freaking life. Destined to
fade into the background where no one sees me. Number two on the list—stand out
more. This guy’s apology definitely didn’t sound sincere. I look up to see a
startling shade of blue staring down at me. Cold. I don’t like it. Blue is my
favorite color, but I like warm blues. Blues that make you think of a tropical
oasis. Definitely not blue like this stranger’s eyes. This shade of blue makes
me anxious and . . . sad? Scared? Why the hell am I thinking about shades of
blue when my life has just ended? Stupid stranger not looking where he’s going.
He’s a jerk, like all men in the universe.
“I’ll
get it,” he declares, grabbing my phone from the floor.
Before
I can tell him to leave me alone, I hear the attendant speaking again.
“Ms.
Brenner?” she pauses and looks expectantly at the bearded man standing next to
me.
“Gilmore,”
he supplies as he takes a step away from her.
We
both turn to give her our attention, although I really don’t want to. I want to
stand here and wallow in my misery. I want to reach out and pull this guy’s
thick beard, cause him a little pain so I don’t suffer alone. What the hell
does Cameron mean by ‘I can’t do this right now’? Was
I just . . . dumped? Is Cameron breaking up with me or
does he just not want to marry me? Is there really a difference at this point
in our relationship? Can we really stay together if he basically rescinds his
proposal?
I’m
a cliché of epic proportions. I want the fairytale wedding with a princess gown
and a horse-drawn carriage. I want a wedding that will resemble a forest at
dusk with stars twinkling in the sky and a sensual melody playing in the
background. I stop my train of thoughts when the attendant speaks again.
“We
need you to board now if this is your flight. We really need to close the gate
now.”
“Our
apologies for being late,” Mr. Gilmore grumbles before turning to me and
gesturing toward the gate. “After you.”
I’m
slightly pleased his apology to her seemed even less sincere. There was also
much more annoyance in his voice. I think. Plus, I wasn’t even late. I was very
much so on time. I was where I was supposed to be and checked in like I should
have. Just . . . not with whom I’m supposed to be with. Tears well in my eyes
fall quicker than I can blink them away. The attendant clears her throat
nervously and a horrified look crosses Mr. Gilmore’s face.
“Ma’am,
we really need to close the gate now,” chipped tooth says.
I’m
not only crying, but I’ve given them no response this entire time and I’m
holding up the flight. Cameron and I were supposed to be going on this trip to
New York as a vacation—and pseudo-honeymoon since it came before the ceremony,
and end it with our wedding. Except now, he’s not here and he’s not
coming.
“Allergies,”
I lie with a forced smile. I hand over my boarding pass and soon enough, I’m on
my way to La Bonne Chance Casino Resort, solo.
LaShanta
Charles is from South Carolina, but currently lives in Tacoma, WA.
She's married, has three tiny humans who constantly mooch off of her,
and is active duty in the US Army. She's a homebody who adores
SLEEPING, reading (romance, especially RH, paranormal, and sci-fi),
eating, white chocolate mochas, SLEEPING, Reese's PB Cups (but only
the ones stuffed with Reese's Pieces), and writing. Oh, and she hates
spiders; why do they need EIGHT legs?
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1 comments:
Thanks for having me!
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