Take a Chance on Me: Against the Odds, #1

By Dawnlyn Holman

Dorian Phillips and Madison Shaye grew up in the same town, but their paths never crossed…until now.

 

Madison is leary of love. After witnessing her parents' tumultuous relationship, she thinks avoiding men will help her avoid heartbreak. No matter how her friends encourage her, she's determined to focus on school and leave dating to everyone else.

 

Dorian is trying to juggle a life filled with changes. While dealing with a break up and quitting his job, his life is further complicated by his parents' checkered pasts. A chance meeting with a beautiful redhead was a curveball he didn't expect.

 

When their two worlds collide at a mutual friend's wedding, will they find strength in each other or continue dealing with their problems alone?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Virwood Publishing Company
• Release date: Mar 30, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201518028

Book preview

One

DORIAN

NOVEMBER 30TH

It wasn’t perfect.

It was . . . comfortable.

Should that have been the first word I used when describing my relationship? It sounded like I was describing a tacky old sofa I couldn’t bear to get rid of because I’d finally broken it in.

We’d been together for eleven months, but it felt longer. I think we’d just gotten used to being with each other. We had company when we wanted it and our space when we needed it.

How about pink? Jasmine blurted from somewhere around the corner.

I realized I’d lost her. I stopped in the middle of the aisle and looked around. Jazz, where are you?

I wasn’t sure how running errands for myself and getting a new dress shirt for my interview turned into a shopping spree for fabrics with my girlfriend, Jasmine. The last I remembered, I stopped by her house for a visit, gave her the news, and got some advice on my shirt. The next thing I knew, I was in Kelly-Ann’s Fabrics.

That fabric store had some of the highest shelves I’d ever seen. With Jasmine’s petite, four-foot ten-inch frame, she was easily buried in there. Her voice was the biggest thing about her; it traveled through the bolts of fabric when she was nowhere in sight.

Pink’s great. We’re going with pink.

For my dress shirt? Nah, I don’t think so. Where are you? I asked for the second time as I took a few steps toward the end of the aisle.

Jasmine’s bottled-blond hair popped out from around the corner. She waved the pink fabric in her hand, then threw it toward me. Isn’t it perfect? Come on, you know you love it.

Um, it’s okay, I guess. But Jazz, this isn’t me. I don’t know if I can see myself wearing a shirt that looks like this.

She threw her head back and laughed. I hadn’t said anything funny. I loved a good joke, but that time, I wasn’t making one.

What? I questioned her, tilting my head.

This isn’t for you. I have that fashion show coming up. Why would you think it’s a shirt for you?

I squinted at her and took a breath to reply, but she slapped her hand on her forehead before I could speak. Oh, yeah, for your interview! she said. I forgot. I got in here and just spaced. Let’s get what I need in here, and we’ll go find something from American Eagle for you. She rushed off again before I could answer.

Thanks, I said, shaking my head as I followed behind her so I wouldn’t lose her again.

She rummaged through more and more shelves of fabric until she found all that she wanted. We went to the register to pay. Two hundred dollars of fabric later, we finally left Kelly-Ann’s to get some shopping done for me.

Hopefully.

* * *

Well, what do you think? Jasmine asked as I left the dressing room, holding the navy-blue shirt. Is that the one? She seemed pleased I’d tried it on.

Yeah. I walked over as she picked up the two heaping bags of fabrics she bought during our earlier shopping expedition. I like this one. To check out we go.

Jasmine followed with her bags as I headed toward the registers at the front of the store.

Told you, Dorian. My style is astonishing. I can dress even the undress-able!

Undress-able? Is that even a word?

Uh, yeah! It’s someone who doesn’t know how to dress themselves. You know, people like babies, small kids, and old married men.

There was only one person ahead of us in line. Not sure what to say in response, my eyes darted around, trying to find something I could change the subject to. Give me something. Anything. Umm . . .

Relief washed over me when Jasmine’s phone chimed.

Saved by the bell.

She shifted the bags around to free her hand and rummaged in the side of her purse. I stood and watched her for a moment before the salesperson from behind the counter spoke.

Next.

Stepping up to the counter as Jasmine blindly shadowed my movements, I set the shirt down right as she found her phone. I paid for my shirt as she took her call.

"Ahh! Dorian! I just got the best news ever."

What? Resting my arm on the counter, I looked over at Jasmine. She jumped with excitement over whatever news she’d gotten.

Okay, so I’ve been trying to get into an Evenbright fashion event for like, ever, and I just found out that I moved up on the waiting list. I can actually go! You and me are driving down to California this weekend.

The event is all weekend?

No, the event is just Saturday. If we leave Friday, we’ll be there on time. Staying for Sunday would be for extra fun!

Oh . . . that won’t really work for me. I slipped my card back into my wallet and the cashier held up the receipt.

Why not? It’ll be a fun weekend. A nice, long drive, an event on Saturday, and we can do some shopping on Sunday, Jasmine pleaded. The wheedling tone in her voice and her pinched expression made it clear she was annoyed.

I have plans on Saturday. I told my grandparents I would help them organize some shelving in the garage. Winter’s here, and I want to make sure they’re ready before we get hit with any more snow.

So, wait. You’re choosing your grandparents over me? That’s rich.

A groan slipped out as my frustration grew. Not now, Jasmine. We’ll talk about this later.

Before she had the chance to reply, I walked away from the counter with my bag. I wasn’t about to have an argument in the store, and if I hadn’t walked away, that’s definitely where it would’ve gone. I just knew it.

Don’t walk away from me!

I left the store, glad that I did. I figured she’d follow me, anyway, and I was right. As I reached the entrance, Jasmine caught up to me.

Dorian? It’s later. Speak! She shoved the door open with more force than necessary, and we both walked out. Jasmine, I’m going to say this one time. This isn’t about choosing them over you. They’re my family, which can’t be compared to anything else, and I made a promise to them. I’m not going to break it. And I told you about my interview. You know it’s on Monday. I don’t think running around all weekend and getting back late Sunday night before I have a big—

Jasmine didn’t let me finish. She jumped in front of me, interrupting my reasoning. I’m hearing a bunch of words that all add up to one thing: excuses. If you don’t want to go, just say it.

That’s not what I said. You aren’t listening.

I’m listening. You said you have plans with your grandparents. You always do. Every single time they call, you come running. Just tell them you can’t do it. The garage will still be there in a few days. They don’t work, and they can do it anytime.

I couldn’t believe we were having that discussion in the middle of the mall parking lot. Taking a deep breath, I tried to stay as calm as possible. She always overreacted. I wanted to handle things as delicately as possible so she didn’t fly off the handle.

No. I’m not going to leave them waiting on me. The next few weeks are crazy for me. One of my buddies is getting married, and I’m in the wedding. A lot of preparation goes into things like that. And just so you know, my grandparents didn’t call me. They said what they wanted to do, and I offered to help them. They shouldn’t be doing work like that alone. I can’t believe you’d ask me to blow them off. I won’t do it.

Jasmine’s eyes narrowed further with each word I said. She wasn’t listening. All she heard was that I was saying no. I didn’t often say no, but that time, she was wrong, and I was going to make sure she knew it.

It’s always someone else—

I jumped in, cutting her off. Look, I’m not going to have this same argument with you. You’re not the victim here. Go to the event and have a good time. This conversation is over, so let’s get in the car. I’ll drop you off.

Hey! She stepped forward and stared up at me. "You don’t tell me when this is over! I’m not at fault here. You are! You go and do what you want. You always do, anyway."

People getting in and out of their cars watched as she yelled. They weren’t even trying to hide it. They just blatantly stared. And why wouldn’t they? She was causing a scene. She didn’t care, and right then, I was beyond caring myself.

I always do? What? You must have mistaken me for someone else. Just get in the car. I stomped toward my car.

No! I’m not getting in the car with you.

Spinning around on my heels to face her, I spread my arms out in a questioning motion. How else you gonna get home, Jazz? We rode here together, remember?

"We did come together, but we don’t have to leave together. I’ll book an Uber. I don’t need you. You go!" She pointed toward my car and stormed off, disappearing back inside the mall.

I hated when we left things like that. I normally would’ve gone after her—not to apologize or to give in, but so we could finish the conversation like adults. Right then, I just couldn’t. She said she didn’t need me. Fine. It wasn’t the first time I’d felt unneeded.

I trailed my fingers through my hair, exhaling forcefully to clear my head. I had to get out of there.

Two

MADISON

NOVEMBER 30TH

Madison Shaye? a woman called my name to get my attention.

Yes? I answered as I looked up from my book.

The woman smiled weakly. It didn’t quite reach her dull brown eyes. I can see you now, window number two.

Okay, great. I nodded and stuck a bookmark in the pages before following the lady to her counter.

There were several other students occupying the faded red chairs in the waiting room, all staring at their phones as they waited for their turns. I was grateful that the wait wasn’t obscenely long. When I reached window two, I set my black satchel purse on the counter and out of the way.

The nameplate on the window read: Leslie Cook, clerk-Bursar’s office. Stacks of papers sat on her station, and she moved them all to one side before she looked up at me. Her lips pressed into a thin, tired line.

So, how can I help you, Madison?

I got a message saying my grades were being held because of the unpaid balance. That didn’t make any sense to me. Everything should be paid, either by my scholarships or the subsidy from the library.

She moved her fingers over the keys. It felt like she looked at the screen forever. I normally consider myself a patient person, but come on, something has to be showing by now.

Her raspy voice shook me from my thoughts. I see what happened. It’s showing only a partial payment here. Academic affairs won’t release grades if the bill isn’t up to date.

That’s what I said, and so far, she hadn’t told me anything I didn’t know. It didn’t make sense. How is that possible? I’m on a scholarship. Panic dripped from my voice. I’d hoped for a mix-up, but now, the worst of the worst crept into my mind.

The woman glanced at her computer screen again, her brow tightening as she read through the mounds of notes. Your subsidy is here, your Leihigh Liberty & Justice Fellowship came through, but the final scholarship is in pending status. It says pending verification signature.

Everyone signed, I don’t under— I stopped speaking. Are you able to see if a Stuart Shaye signed?

One second. The keys pounded down as the woman typed away. The moments felt like forever.

My dad had been flying nonstop for the past few years, so it would make sense if they weren’t able to get in touch with him. I’d struggled myself.

Leslie looked up. No. His signature isn’t showing. We can send another request. Would you like that?

My eyes closed for a moment, and I exhaled. This problem wouldn’t go away overnight. I met her eyes again. Yes, please. I’ll try and get in touch with my dad and tell him to check his email.

I’ll send this request off, and I’ll make a note on your account of the updates, she said with a small smile. The tired look on her face seemed to dissipate, and she seemed relieved. I wished I could have said the same about myself. She was used to dealing with financial issues, but it was a first for me and felt like a nightmare. Is there anything else I can help you with?

No, thank you. That was everything. Have a nice day.

You too, Madison. Thank you for coming in. Good luck getting the signature.

Thanks. I’m going to need it. I gave her a slight nod while making sure I had everything I came in with, and I walked away from the window. I came hoping my stress would be lifted, but I left feeling like I was pressed against a brick wall. It was crazy how just a small conversation could change the course of a day. I hoped my plans for later would turn my mood around. I’d rather enjoy the day instead of feeling like that.

I was supposed to meet up with my best friend, Sierra McGrath. We didn’t get to see each other often since we weren’t in school together anymore, but we tried to get together when we could. Due to her matrimonial situation, as she called it, we had even more of a reason to get together.

I walked over to the metal coat hooks on the far wall. They were filled with jackets, and colorful umbrellas were scattered across the floor underneath. Rain came often and out of nowhere in Arcton, making it a cold and gloomy place to live. After grabbing my jacket from the hook, I dragged it on, pulled up my hood, and headed out the door. Thankfully, it wasn’t raining.

My pocket vibrated as I walked away from the old brick building and across the parking lot. I headed straight for my rusty car as I took my phone from my pocket. It was a text message from Sierra.

Hey! Just got here. I’ll meet ya inside!

Sounds good. I’ll be there in ten.

I turned the ringer on before putting my phone away. Sliding into my car, I turned the key and said the same silent prayer I always did to keep the old hunk of junk moving. It sputtered to life, and I pulled out of the parking lot, heading toward Starbucks for coffee.

It was strange to think it was almost December already. There was only one more week of classes before Christmas break. Time flew so fast. Adjusting to that new phase of my life had been tough, but I made the right decision by continuing to law school.

There, I was in my element. It was satisfying to have a place I truly belonged. No more endless bouncing back and forth between two homes every other week or when the situation deemed fit. For some people, college caused stress. For me, it was freedom.

* * *

Well, well, here she is. Long time, no see! Sierra exclaimed as I walked through the door. Her brunette pixie cut bobbed through the throng of people as she rushed over to hug me. I knew if I picked coffee, I’d get to see you with your head out of the books.

Sierra howled at her at her own joke as I stepped in to hug her. She didn’t normally make jokes but couldn’t resist tossing them in when she saw fit. I didn’t mind. Besides, what was life without a little laughter?

Yeah, yeah. It hasn’t been that long. You know how the end of a semester can get.

She nodded as we got in line to order. Oh yeah, I know, and I don’t miss it. But I’m crazy proud of you for all you’re doing in school, and I know you’re going to be an awesome lawyer. It wasn’t for me, though. A two-year degree was plenty. I realized that in that last year. I felt so overwhelmed with papers and tests that I felt guilty for falling asleep because I’d get further behind!

Yes, I remember that. It’s hard to forget, Sierra. Though I can tell you that law school is much different because it’s more specialized. You can have a specific focus. You’re not working on math at four o’clock, psychology at five o’clock, and trying to squeeze in an English paper by midnight.

Sierra rolled her eyes and gagged in a dramatic show of dislike. I guess I’ll have to take your word for it. Do you want your usual?

Yeah, but you don’t have to pay. I’ve got it.

She ignored me, pulled a twenty out of her purse, and stepped up to the counter.

Sierra? Come on.

Hi, I’ll take a Frappuccino and a venti caramel macchiato, hot, please. She handed the cash over to the barista and waited for the change. Madison, it’s just a coffee. Think of it as payback for all the times you’ve bought one for me. She grabbed her change, and we walked over to the spot at the counter to wait for our drinks.

Okay, okay, I’ll give you that one. But this is the last time you can pull the out-of-the-country line on me. Spain was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and we had to live it up.

Yeah, yeah . . . so tell me. How is the semester gonna end? Straight A’s like always? Sierra smiled.

I wish I could guarantee that.

What does that mean?

My final grades have been held. My dad didn’t sign off on one of my scholarships. So, there’s still a balance.

Why wouldn’t he sign?

I don’t feel like he would do it on purpose. He’s been so busy, it probably slipped his mind. But that doesn’t make it any easier, you know?

Oh yeah. I get it. I’m sorry, Maddie. Let me know how I can help. You name it. I’ll do whatever I can, financial or otherwise. Sierra pulled me in for a hug, and I hugged her back. It didn’t make my situation any less difficult, but concern from a best friend went a long way.

There was a lot about Sierra that I looked up to. Some of those things I’d told her: her ability to be carefree in highly stressful situations, her love of traveling—an excellent benefit because I had a travel buddy—and her desire to help people. That was one commonality we’d shared from the beginning. Public service was in her blood. Three generations of police officers, including her. Some other attributes I looked up to weren’t concrete and were hard to describe. Maybe goals was the best way to describe them. I admired some of her simple goals in life.

Goals were essential. I’d always had them, and while some were reachable, others seemed far and unattainable, but that didn’t mean I gave up on them. That was something I’d learned from Sierra. Don’t give up until that goal became a reality. If it did, that was amazing. If it didn’t, it was okay. You could still dream.

Though, if I can’t get this scholarship mess straightened out, dreaming might be all I have.

Three

DORIAN

DECEMBER 1ST

So, I’m thinking the shelf can go over here, Dorian, my grandfather said in his deep, soft-spoken voice as he pointed to the far end of the garage. He was tall, and his mustache twitched as he spoke, curling the corner of his lip into a grin. Pulling off his newsboy hat, he ran his gnarled, arthritic hand through his short gray hair.

For a man his age, he wasn’t in bad shape. That came from his Marine Corps background. He had to be more cautious of the things he ate, but he protested as much as he could. I didn’t blame him; if you wanted something, why not indulge? He just liked to go overboard when he could. It wasn’t an easy battle, but we managed.

I’d looked up to him my entire life. He took pride in his years of service. He took pride in his country, and that showed in battle. He was one of the few African American soldiers recognized for his bravery after he provided critical aid to wounded marines while under fire. How cool was that? He was the reason I was the man that I was. As a young boy, I strived to make him proud, and I hoped I had.

Grandpa looked back at me as I came over to join