More Than Anything (Broken Pieces 1)

Tina smiled through it all, never venturing an opinion. As always, feeling like a stranger looking in. The disconnect was even more jarring than usual tonight—all she could think about was leaving. Escaping. She didn’t belong here. Not with these people, who had so many conditions attached to their love for her.

She wanted out. Away.

Her phone buzzed, and she glanced at the screen and suddenly had the excuse she needed. Even if it wasn’t the one she wanted.

“I have to go,” she announced abruptly. Her gaze glued to her phone screen. The animated chatter stopped, and all eyes fixed on her. Noticing the abrupt silence, she looked up and realized that everyone was staring at her.

“I’m sorry,” she said, holding up her phone. “Libby is in labor. Greyson is still en route from Australia. She needs me.”

“Of course,” her mother said without hesitation. “You should go.”

Appearances above all else. Olivia Chapman was Tina’s best friend. But more importantly, she was now wife to the CEO of the Chapman Global Property Group. Daughter-in-law to Tina’s parents’ closest friends. Even if everybody was still a little horrified that Greyson Chapman had gone and married the Chapman cook’s daughter, appearances had to be upheld. If Olivia Chapman was in the process of birthing an heir to the vast Chapman fortune, then of course Tina would have to be there to support her friend. No matter that her parents had never really approved of the friendship when Tina and Libby were kids.

Tina said a hasty goodbye and left. The drive to the hospital was rushed, and she slammed her way into the building a mere ten minutes later. She found the Chapmans and Libby’s parents, the Lawsons, very quickly. The two older couples sat in strained silence. Now retired, Stella and Roland Lawson had both worked for the Chapmans for nearly thirty years, as cook and driver, respectively. Their only daughter, Libby, had grown up in the live-in staff’s quarters and, despite the four-year age gap, had played with the Chapman twins when they were all children. The Chapmans had subsidized Libby’s education, and she had gone to the same private school as Tina and the twins.

But none of them had ever foreseen Libby and Greyson getting married years down the line. It had shocked even Tina, and Libby had been her best friend since she was fifteen and Libby thirteen.

“Any news?” she asked the room in general, and Mrs. Lawson smiled and shook her head.

“Nothing yet. She’s been in there for about five hours already,” the lovely older woman said. She and Libby were very similar in appearance: tall, willowy, and graceful, with thick, wavy black hair—the older woman’s liberally sprinkled with salt—and beautiful light-brown eyes. Their flawless golden-brown skin a testament to their multiracial ancestry.

“Is Greyson back from Perth yet?” Tina asked.

“His plane will be landing soon,” Mr. Lawson volunteered, after another strained silence during which neither Chapman bothered to respond to Tina’s question. She smiled at the handsome man—also multiracial, like so many of Cape Town’s population—with his gray temples and distinguished demeanor. Tina had always liked Libby’s parents; they were warm, welcoming people who had gone out of their way to make Tina feel like part of their family. Of course, her parents would be appalled to know exactly how much time she’d spent with Libby in the private family quarters the Chapmans had allocated to their married cook and driver. But Libby’s small, cozy home had felt more like Tina’s than the sprawling Jenson family mansion.

“Is Libby alone?” Tina asked, horrified by that thought.

“Harris is with her.” Constance Chapman spoke for the first time; she didn’t sound completely approving, and in this case, Tina wholeheartedly echoed that sentiment. Why the hell was Harris with her? Why not her mother?

Harris had sent Tina the text from Libby’s phone earlier as well. It hadn’t seemed that strange at first, but now that she thought about it, she wondered why he was taking point on this. She was considering going in there to relieve him of his birthing-coach duties when the man in question slammed into the room wearing scrubs and a huge grin on his too-damned-handsome face.

“It’s a girl,” he announced, and Mr. and Mrs. Lawson exclaimed in delight. Even the Chapmans broke into grins, which was unexpected and kind of sweet. Especially when the older couples embraced spontaneously before remembering themselves and going back to their former awkwardness. “Libby’s exhausted but fine, and baby girl Chapman will shortly be in the nursery for your viewing pleasure.”

The older couples filed out, and Tina had moved to follow when Harris’s bulk blocked her way.

“Tina,” he said in greeting, his voice terse, all the earlier joviality gone.

“Harrison.” She didn’t make eye contact, merely attempted to sidestep and go around him, but his step was in sync with hers, and they did that awkward little “oops, same direction” shuffle for a couple of seconds before he laughed in exasperation and stopped moving. This time she allowed her eyes to travel up that broad chest, along the strong column of his throat, before darting past that blue-tinged, stubbled jaw, the sensuous mouth and slightly crooked nose. She still vividly remembered the painful crunch of her bones against the cartilage of his nose. She had broken her knuckles breaking that nose . . .