Chapter 2
Ashley gathered up her things and signed out a few minutes after five, Chase by her side. She’d told him at least six months ago he didn’t have to walk her to her car. She didn’t want to feel like a victim anymore, always having to watch over her shoulder for someone who was no longer a threat, but he’d just shrug and do it anyway.
“Hey, Ashley, wait up.” Dean, from billing, jogged over from the computer desk where they signed in and out and then slowed to her pace as soon as he caught up. “You have any plans tonight? A bunch of us are headed out for drinks at Dave and Buster’s in a little bit. You want to come?”
“Maybe another time.” There would not be another time, but Ashley couldn’t say that. She hated maintaining that careful balance between cordiality and honesty. That’s why coworkers shouldn’t date.
“Well, you’re always welcome.” Dean’s eyes slid to her companion. “Um, you too …”
“Chase.” Chase kindly filled in the name for him. “Thanks, but I gotta get home.”
Dean went on ahead of them, glancing back once to smile at her.
“He likes you,” Chase said.
“I’m not interested in dating anyone here. It would make things awkward. You could go, though.”
Chase shook his head. “He’s not my type either.”
She laughed, but she knew the real reason Chase never had plans after work. Well, she knew vaguely why. Chase had always been tightlipped about what happened to him. She knew his parents had died in a car accident. She knew he had younger siblings who lived with him. But he always changed the subject or made jokes when she tried to bring it up, so she’d stopped asking about it.
He was right about Dean. That wasn’t the first time he’d singled her out to ask something he could have asked anyone. Dean was a decent-looking guy, and nice, from the little she knew about him. They all seemed like nice guys, the ones who started up conversations with her in the breakroom or brought coffee to her desk and stayed to chat. Well, not Flynn. But there were at least a dozen other single guys on this floor who’d all showed some level of interest. But she couldn’t do it again. Jump in with both feet. Fall for a guy only to have her heart broken. She didn’t think she could take another disastrous relationship, another example of how blind she was to most guys’ true intentions.
Sometimes her roommate Lina joked that therapy was always in session because they’d spent so many nights rehashing all their dating failures.
They reached her car, and Ashley got in, waving goodbye through the window. Her plans tonight were super exciting: laundry and leftover spaghetti.
***
The house was in chaos when Chase got home, but that was nothing new. He turned the TV volume down from fifty-seven to twenty and then shut it off.
“Aww, come on,” Tyler whined.
Chase ignored him for the moment and turned to Tyler’s friend, Mike, who lived next door. “Go home, Mike.”
Mike sheepishly got up off the couch and went home, an almost empty bag of chips tucked not-so-secretly under his arm. His mom was a health food nut so he got his fix at their house most afternoons before dinner time.
“Care to explain why there’s underwear hanging from the fan?” Chase asked.
Tyler grinned, his little freckled face almost a perfect mirror of Chase at that age. “I wanted to see if I could slingshot it up there. Only took two tries.”
“I told him not to,” Gabby said, coming in with a stack of towels. “He was supposed to be helping me put away laundry. And he hasn’t done his homework. Also, Fred is dead.”
One less thing to take care of, but Chase didn’t say that. He shook his head sadly. “Sorry to hear that. What did you do with him?”
Gabby shook her head, making her dark curls bounce. “We flushed him. Poor fish.”
“I wanted to cook him for dinner, but Gabby wouldn’t let me.” Tyler dived out of reach before Gabby could smack him.
Chase held her back. “I’ll take care of Tyler. Don’t worry.” He reminded himself it was normal for eight-year-old boys to be this annoying, and also that Tyler longed for attention whether negative or positive. Attention was attention.
Thanks to the mandatory parenting classes the state had required, Chase was (theoretically) prepared to deal with grieving children. He cornered Tyler and put him in a wrestling hold. “Be nice to your sister or I’ll bite your ears off.”
Tyler howled with laughter and covered his ears with his hands.
“Now, I’m going to zoom you to the moon and I want you to grab the underwear on the way back to earth, okay?” Chase lifted him under his arms and swung him up toward the ceiling. The first attempt was too low, but Tyler reached out a little farther the next time and knocked them down.
“Go put your underwear away and then come help with dinner. Bring your homework to the table.”
