Bold by Nicola Marsh

labeled. All because she chose to be nothing like her mother. She’d wanted to be the opposite of her boring mom so she’d rebelled, wearing flamboyant clothes, doing outrageous things, dating the wrong boys, anything to feel alive and not bogged down by her mom’s mundane drudgery.
    When she was twelve and learned her step-dad had more lady friends than she had skinny jeans, Chantal understood her mom’s motivation to constantly strive for normality. It was her way of putting on a brave face to the world, being anchored in everyday trivialities to ignore the hurtful stuff.
    While Chantal understood, it didn’t make living with her mom’s boredom easier. Rebelling was much more fun. But eventually the small town mentality and gossip got under her skin. She’d hated feeling unworthy so she’d fled, determined to make a life she could be proud of. Yet in less than a minute, Christopher had succeeded in tearing that all down and thrusting her back to the past, back when she hid her insecurities behind bluster and boldness.
    She’d have to do the same now, because no matter how much she wanted to abuse him, this man was Zane’s father. And she would do business with him; she’d damn well make sure of that after the way he’d treated her. Proving him wrong would be her new goal.
    So she pasted on a cool smile, looking down on him with exaggerated pity. “Contrary to your beliefs, I’m not stupid. Nor am I a whore. So I suggest you shelve your prejudices and do your research a little more carefully, because you’ll discover I’m the richest woman in Nevada and I don’t deserve to be treated like something you just stepped in.”
    Chantal turned, ready to make a grand exit, only to find Zane behind her.
    “You okay?” he said, holding her upper arms, his expression horror-stricken. “I caught the last part of what you said.”
    Surprised by the sudden urge to bawl and not wanting to give Christopher the satisfaction of seeing it, she lowered her voice. “Your old man’s an asshole but don’t hold that against him. You came here to get to know him and that’s what you need to do. I’ll be upstairs.”
    “But what about the sponsorship deal—”
    “Don’t bring it up. I’ll fill you in later.” She kissed his cheek, eager to escape before she blubbered. “Good luck.”
    Without looking back, Chantal strode from the bar, head held high, while inside her fake bravado cracked, then shattered as she realized that being at war with Christopher would put Zane right in the middle.
     
    Zane had never seen Chantal anything other than bold and confident. Even when she’d been sick the last few days, she’d been pale but resilient.
    But her pallor just now and the resignation in her eyes went beyond a forty-eight-hour virus. She’d looked like a wounded puppy that had been kicked by its master. Throw in the fact he’d heard her tell Christopher she didn’t deserve to be treated like shit and he knew exactly why she’d looked so fragile.
    His father had done something to the woman he cared about.
    His father… God, even now, standing in front of the man, it didn’t seem real. How could this guy have held him as a baby, tucked him in at night, then walked away without looking back? What kind of a heartless bastard could turn his emotions off like that?
    The familiar ache sprouted in his chest, the same emptiness that hadn’t quit since he’d learned he had a father three years ago. He’d never understand why Christopher really left. Probably couldn’t get past it. But he hadn’t traveled all this way to turn away now.
    “What just happened here?”
    “Nice to meet you too, Son.” Christopher ignored his question, stood and held out his hand.
    Zane considered not shaking it for all of two seconds before realizing it wasn’t worth being childish if he wanted answers.
    He shook his father’s hand, hoping his firm grip conveyed he wouldn’t be bullied as easily as Chantal.
    “What did you say to