His laugh made something squirm inside her. The power this man still had over her. One night was all it had taken to stitch the thought of a soul mate into her heart. He hadn’t had to mention Marley. All he had to do was need her. She could be that honest with herself.
“Chase has been at Cedar Point for a week. I talked to the judge and her attorney. The rehab wants her to stay for the next eighteen days, and then they will release her to you. Her mother will be calling you once I tell her you’ve accepted. Lorna is grateful. She loves her daughter but is at her wit’s end.”
“She may not be grateful when I’m done, and I want Chase to have at least a week with one of my staff members to continue the sobriety coaching. I not only want her clean, but I want her feeling healthy, rested, and open to the next step in the process,” Olivia said, leaning her head back against the chair, her gaze on the two hummingbirds going at one another. No retreat left.
“I have faith in you. You’re Chase London’s last chance to come back.”
Olivia picked up the pen Vashad Jackson had sent her after he’d won his first Super Bowl and wrote Chase London’s name on the second Thursday of September. “Okay, you’ve got me. Let’s see what we can do to get Chase London back. Consider the favor repaid.”
“Thank you, Livy.”
“I’m only doing this because you’re the one asking.”
“And because you love me,” he joked.
But that was the problem, wasn’t it? Olivia had always loved Conrad Santos.
And he would always be in love with her dead sister.
CHAPTER THREE
Chase schlepped down the hall, her slippers scuffing the linoleum floor. She’d been a client at Cedar Point Rehab before and knew how to punch all the buttons of the staff, which for some crazy reason made her feel better. Yeah, it was a dick move, but she had been detoxing, and one took pleasure where one could.
She plopped her coffee mug down on the counter, sloshing the liquid onto it.
The woman sitting behind the L-shaped station frowned. “Really?”
“My coffee is cold. Again.” Chase arched an eyebrow, knowing she probably looked like Lorna and hating that about herself. But not enough to relent or apologize. This was what people expected from her. Bad behavior. So she gave it to them.
“There’s a microwave in the common area. You know how to use a microwave, don’t you, princess?” The woman plopped a stack of napkins onto the counter and turned back to her computer screen. She had red hair that looked like it came out of a box, wore a cotton tunic top that was too tight and showed her back rolls, and displayed a bitchy attitude. Chase stared daggers at her, wishing she had enough nerve to toss the coffee on the woman. She couldn’t quite go there.