“Fine.” She pivoted on her heels and crossed her arms defensively.
I can do this. Just don’t think of it as Chase. Just think of it as a meeting that has to be short so I can get back to work. Okay—her plan was to answer his questions, give him the information he wanted, and get the hell out of this very small, very contained, very private room.
Distance. She had to keep her distance.
* * *
Chase stared down at Krista’s gorgeous eyes, and even though he knew it was totally unintentional, the stubborn stare in them was sexy as hell.
He could still remember the first day he’d really noticed the blue specks in her green eyes. It had been after a play rehearsal for Grease when he was in fourth grade. Krista had been sitting in the front row of the school’s auditorium waiting for Haley, who was playing Sandy to his Danny. One of the kids pulling props had been having a hard time getting the fake car onto the stage. Krista had popped out of her chair and run over to help her struggling classmate. After they had secured the prop in place, Krista had turned to run back offstage, and when she had, the spotlight shone on her. Chase remembered that she’d caught him staring at her and he’d said, “You have really pretty eyes.” Even at eight years old, she’d played it cool, saying a brief, “Thanks,” before hopping off the stage.
Now, as he stared into those same eyes, the same words fell from his lips. “You have really pretty eyes.”
“Thanks,” she replied, short, sweet, and to the point. Not even close to sounding as friendly as she had the first time he’d given her that compliment. “So what about your mom?”
Oookay. So she wanted to remain all business.
“Are you gonna sit down?” he asked even though he could guess her answer.
“No,” she replied flatly.
“Are you gonna eat?”
“No,” she repeated just as dryly.
Now he knew she was just being stubborn.
He knew that she’d been on her way to the cafeteria when she was asked to come up here. He’d called Vickey, who, from what he had gathered, now had more pull than God himself at this hospital, and she’d arranged all of this. When she’d let him know that Krista was on her way, she’d told him to be careful because she was hungry, so with Vickey’s help, he’d gotten food sent up from the cafeteria. He’d even asked if they could cut the sandwiches into pizza shapes, which were Krista’s favorite.
He owed Vickey a lot, and not just for setting this up. The night he’d left town, he’d gone to see her and she’d stitched up his lip and a gash above his eye, both of which his dad had split open during their fight. She’d also given him antibiotics and treated him at her home, not charging him a dime.
As he stared at Krista now, that night seemed like a million years ago and just yesterday.
“I know you’re hungry,” he stated matter-of-factly.
“You have five minutes,” she said with in a deadly calm voice, staying exactly where she was, her eyes cold as ice.
Chase sighed. This was even harder than he’d expected it to be. She was in full defense mode. He knew when to throw in the towel. He’d strategically retreat for now.
“How long has she been living like that?” He did need information from her, so he might as well try to get it.
“Like what?” she asked, looking like she would rather be anywhere in the world instead of here. With him.
“Like…” He didn’t really know how to put it. “In a mess.”
Shrugging, she answered his question with a pointed stare. “It’s been like that since I started going over there after your dad died.”
Chase felt a tightness in his chest at the mention of not only his father but also the timeline. How could she have lived like that for so long? He needed to know more.
“What is her life like? Her day-to-day?”
Krista shook her head slightly. “She stays in the house. It’s really hard to get her to go out. About a year ago, I convinced her to start going with me to the women’s shelter, and since then, it’s been a little easier. After much convincing, she finally agreed to get a dog. Now that she has Bear, she gets out a little more, taking him on walks. After a lot of begging and guilt trips, she did go the movies with me last weekend.”
“She told me,” Chase said calmly, trying to digest how hearing that information made him feel.
He leaned back in the leather high-back conference room chair and raked his fingers through his hair. He was mad. Mad that his mom had let her life get to this point and mad that he’d had no idea. He should have known. Someone should have told him.