by L. B. Dunbar
“I think you don’t know me, Charlie.”
“I’m trying to,” I blurt, exasperated by this conversation.
“And I’m trying to sort myself out before I drag someone else into my lane.”
Fuck. I don’t like this. I understand it, but I don’t like it. When Angela was caught fucking another man at a party we were hosting to raise money for my campaign, I didn’t think I could ever trust a woman again. And as I had Lucy to consider, I needed to pull myself together and move forward before I could even think of bedding someone. I’ve had one-night stands here and there, but nothing has made me feel like I feel with Janessa. Alive, just as I told her. For the first time in forty-five years, I feel something I’ve never felt before, and she does this to me.
“I get it,” I mutter, crestfallen like a boy who’s breaking up with his girl. I recall the feeling from being a teen. My eyes squint off in the distance, not focusing on any one thing. Turning for the church, I glance up at the steeple.
“Do you need money?” I ask, not able to face her with the question. “Is that why you were trying on my grandmother’s ring that morning?”
“My God, I didn’t intend to steal the ring, Charlie. Don’t insult me now. I told you I wasn’t stealing it that morning, and I later told you I was there to help out my mother, who had to take my father to the doctor.”
“Why did you put it on then?” I ask, lowering my eyes to hers. Her arm flails out to her side, slapping back at her thigh before she looks me in the eye.
“I just thought it was beautiful. Richard bought me gaudy, garish things, and it was so simple yet dignified. Elegant and pretty. I wondered what it would look like on. I was just curious, and I apologized,” she says, but for some reason, my irritation grows with her explanation.
“Curious? Is that what you’re doing with me?” Is she using me to get herself off? Fill a void she won’t admit she feels? I remember the emptiness when I discovered Angela’s affair. The betrayal. The hurt. The need to feel like someone else might want me.
“Don’t say that.” She exhales, and her hands clasp together before her. Demure. Penitent. How appropriate we stand before a church? “I like you, Charlie, when I shouldn’t.”
I nod again, turning my face as if she slapped me. “I get it,” I say again, and then reach for my phone in my pocket.
“I’ll call someone to pick us up. We don’t need to walk back.”
I’ve had enough exercise today, and my heart aches not from the exertion but from the wasted energy of wanting someone who won’t have me.
15
Attack to the Heart
[Charlie]
“Where’s Rosa?” I ask my mother when I return home from my morning run. I wake at five a.m. and take the time to clear my head before I start each day. Of course, lately, my head is filled with thoughts of Janessa. Why won’t she open up to me? Why won’t she let me in? I want to prove I do respect her, and I understand her need to prove herself. I just want to be there for her.
“I don’t know,” Mother says. I called her when Rosa was fifteen minutes late, and I needed to get out. Knowing my mother would be awake and Rosa must be running late, I just needed someone to sit in the house while Lucy slept. I don’t leave Lucy in the house alone when I run so I compromise with Rosa. She comes over early, sets up for the day, and then when I return, she has an hour to go back to her place for whatever she needs. This morning, I’m wondering if I’m missing something. She’s two hours late. I don’t recall her telling me she couldn’t be here, and while I’d like to strut over to the coach house, I’m avoiding Janessa. That’s what she wants.
We agreed. One last time and then we’d stop.
Or maybe I said that, and she hammered home the idea during our discussion outside the church.
“Do you recall Rosa saying she wouldn’t be here?” I ask Lucy, who is now awake and sleepily sitting at the kitchen island.
“She didn’t say anything to me. You know you can leave me alone, Dad. I’m ten,” she states, exasperated with me as her elbow rests on the island countertop, and she watches my mother pull out a pan for breakfast.
“I know you’re ten, and that’s why I’m not leaving you home alone yet, Pint.” I mimic her tone back to her.
Maybe Lucy could call Vega, although I know Lucy’s been walking gingerly around her new friend. She said Vega didn’t get in trouble with her mother for Lucy telling me about their dad, but Vega’s still upset with her.
She doesn’t think she can trust me, Lucy whined when she told me what happened.
Can she? I remember asking Lucy, hinting at her betrayal in speaking of Vega’s secret. Then I think of myself. Can Janessa trust me? Does she not see that she can? Our instant attraction might seem surface level, but underneath, I like what I’ve learned about her. Her laughter. Her intelligence. Her plans for the future of this town, a town I want her to call home. I want her to let me learn more, but the rejection is real.
I dial Rosa’s number but don’t get an answer. Shrugging off my concern, I decide to shower. I walk to my mother, kiss her temple, and head upstairs, but something niggles inside my chest. An unsettling feeling I dismiss as conflicting emotions over Janessa.
+ + +
“Where’s Janessa?” I ask Charity after entering my office. An hour has passed since Janessa should have been present. Not that I’m keeping tabs on her, but I have a sense of when she’s in the old house. I can’t see the street from my office in the back of the place, so I stand inside Charity’s reception area and stare out at the street where Henri’s truck is distinctly missing.
“She called in sick,” Charity says, and I turn to face her.
“What’s wrong with her?”
Charity shrugs as though she doesn’t know but more likely doesn’t care. She hasn’t been the same since Janessa was hired, and I don’t know how to read her. The Bernards are old family friends since my father and Ford grew up together. The three daughters run roughly younger than Mati to my age, and a rumor suggests that a Bernard woman should marry one of us Harrington brothers. For me, the attraction was never present. They were just girls, who were friends, but Charity’s been acting strange lately. Henhouse drama is not my thing, but I’ve seen it between Angela and Charity. Pecking order and who’s the leader waffled between them. Charity likes to assure she’s on top.
“I was wondering if I could speak with you,” Charity begins, sheepishly asking and then licking her lips. She stands with a nervous expression on her face as she swipes her hands down her hips and then rounds her desk. Stepping up to me, she stops a little too close to me.
“Daddy wants you to run for Congress,” she states, trying to hold my eyes in a weird non-blinking manner. “And you know I think you’d be the perfect candidate.” She takes a deep breath and exhales. “You’re intelligent and levelheaded. Kind and supportive. You see things. Have a vision. You know what you want and then go after it.” Her voice lowers, and for some reason, I sweat a little.
“He thinks you could make a real difference for our district and the state.” When her hand comes to my chest, all kinds of wrong prickles over my skin. She curls her hand around my tie and smooths it against her palm. “You could make a difference, Charlie. I believe in you.”
“Thank you, Charity, that means a lot to me.” I swallow as I reach for my tie and gently tug it from her grasp.
“Does it, Charlie? Do I mean something to you?”
Umm. That’s not exactly what I said, but she does mean something me. Office wife, remember? She knows me and reads me better than most, and we’ve been doing this for ten years.
“Charity,” I whisper, my voice shaky as I fear what’s happening.
“We could go all the way, Charlie. I could be on top.” Her eyes widen. “I mean, you could be on top of me.” Her mouth pops open. “I mean…I mean, you could rise to the top.”
I bite the inside of my cheek, both flabbergasted at what she’s saying and trying not to laugh.
Is she seducing me? Does she hope I’ll run for Congress with her at my side? She steps closer to me, running her hand along my tie again and pausing at the end, stopping too close to my waistband.
“Charity.” I finally find the strength to level my voice. “What are you doing?”
“Convincing you to take me.” She closes her eyes. “Take the risk.” Her eyes pop open. “I mean, take the challenge and run for Congress.”
Have mercy.
My hand covers hers, which still latches onto my tie. “Charity, I—”
“Did you hear what happened at the diner today?” Gretchen O’Leary calls out, bursting through the front door, which has a clear line of sight to this room. Gretchen’s eagle eyes narrow on my hand covering Charity’s, and it looks all kinds of wrong, especially when I forcefully drop Charity’s hand, making us appear even guiltier of something that is not happening. That is never going to happen.
“What happened?” I ask nonchalantly as if I don’t really care about town gossip, but I’ll humor Gretchen this morning. Humor her as I try to make sense of the fact my assistant just came onto me.
“Poor Henri Cruz. Dropped down in the middle of the restaurant. They think it’s his heart.”
Turning away from Charity, I step up to Gretchen. “What happened?” I ask again, gripping her shoulders as I want more details.
“He was in the diner having breakfast with his daughter. I didn’t realize Jan Cruz was Henri’s kin.” Gretchen pauses, and I circle my finger, motioning for her to speed up the situation.
“Anyway, an ambulance came, and they took him to County Regional Hospital.”
“Did Janessa go with him?”
Gretchen’s brows pinch. “Of course. She turned white as a ghost, muttering all kinds of things in Spanish to him, but he wasn’t responding, poor man.”
“Cancel my morning,” I call over my shoulder to Charity, my eyes narrowing in suspicion. Janessa called in sick. I level my assistant with a glare but don’t have time to discuss this incident. I step around her, find my keys in my desk, and then exit the office.
Fifteen minutes later, I’m rushing into the emergency room. While I’m not family, I’m recognized as the mayor, and I explain how Henri works for me. I’m sent to the telemetry unit as he’s been admitted for observation. Coming into a waiting room just outside the entrance, I ask the nurse to pass along a message to the daughter.
After an excruciating ten minutes of waiting, Janessa appears through the double doors. I stand, and without thought, I step up to her and fold her into my arms. Thankfully, she doesn’t press me away but melts into my chest.
“How are you?” I ask, still holding her to me.
“Shaken,” she admits into my shirt, and then she tugs back to look up at me. “What are you doing here?”
“I heard what happened. Rosa didn’t come in this morning, but I left my mother in charge of Lucy, and I didn’t give it a thought. I should have thought.” I tug her back to me.
“You had no way of knowing. We were at the diner when he gripped his chest, turned ash colored, and then collapsed. I’ve never been so scared.”
Her arms tighten on me, and I press at her back as if to get her closer to me.
“What can I do for you?” I ask, lowering my lips for her hair. She shakes her head, pulling out of my grasp. Dammit. Whenever I offer her help is when she pulls away the most. I loosen my hold, feeling her slip from me. Taking a full step back, she puts distance between us. She’s dressed for work, so another skirt and blouse, and I would do anything to remove it and show her how I can help her. I also want to remove the concern on her face.
“He’s going to be okay,” I say as if I know this for a fact. I reach for her cheeks, and thankfully, she doesn’t tug out of my touch, allowing me to stroke my thumb along the corner of her mouth.
“Mami’s in there with him, and I’d like to stay with her. I called the office and told Charity.” My lips twist. My assistant and I need to have a serious conversation when I return to the office, but for now, I want to stay here with Janessa.
“Where’s Vega?” I ask, and Janessa’s eyes widen. “She had to come with my mother. I sent her down to the cafeteria with her iPad and some money for breakfast.”
“I’ll call my mother.” I release her face and reach for my phone. Janessa’s hand covers my wrist.
“You don’t need to do that.”
“Let me help you,” I say, knowing I won’t take no for an answer. “My mother can keep both the girls entertained for the day. In fact, she’ll love it.”
“But I don’t want her to drive here for Vega, and I can’t leave.”
“I’ll take her. Do you trust me?” I ask, feeling as if she might not trust me with her child.
“I trust you, Charlie.” Her voice softens as her brows pinch as if she’s questioning her own statement. For now, I’ll take those words, no questions asked.
“First, what can I do for you?”
She shakes her head. “We called my younger brother, Zander, and he’s coming in. We just don’t know what’s wrong with Papi. They’re saying it wasn’t a heart attack, but his heart isn’t right.”
“Okay. Okay, let me take Vega to my mother’s. Do you need me to bring you anything? Pick up some food for you?” Anything. Just tell me how I can help you, I want to yell.
“I’m okay, Charlie. It was so sweet of you to come here.” She tips on her toes and presses a kiss to the corner of my lips.
“There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you,” I tell her as she lowers back down, my fingers twitch. I want to grip her hips and pull her back to me, but I take a breath, and she steps away from me.
“Vega’s in the cafeteria. I’ll go get her.”
“I’ll come with you,” I say, following her lead, realizing I’d follow her anywhere.
+ + +
The day feels endless after I take Vega to my mother who agrees to let both girls spend the night, making it a little party in hopes of taking Vega’s mind off her grandfather. I’d like to do something for Janessa, but I feel helpless. Returning to the office, I plan to ignore my assistant as best I can.
“Charlie, I want to explain,” Charity says, following me to my office door.
“I don’t want to talk.” It’s the most direct I’ve ever been with her. Closing my door, I hole up in my office, taking calls, working on my client list, and reviewing Janessa’s plans for the community center. It’s a good idea, but costly, and I’m not certain the town council will pass this budget in the next budgeting meeting without more specifics.
Setting the plan aside, I realize how late it actually is and decide to head home. Mother invited me to stop over for a late supper, but I pass after checking in on the girls. I just want a shower and my bed, but like those three bears who come home, finding someone has eaten their porridge and sat in their chairs, I find someone curled up in my bed, and she’s no Goldilocks but a raven-haired temptress.
16
Into His Bed Means into My Heart
[Janessa]
Tender fingers brush back my hair, and slowly, my eyes open to find Charlie crouched next to the bed.
“Hey,” I whisper hoarsely.
“Hey.” He smiles with a crook to his lips. His fingers still comb through my hair and curl over my ear. “What are you doing here?”
His room holds only the glow of the side table light I left on for him.
“You told me the next time I was in your bedroom that I should be naked and willing in your bed.”
His eyes widen.
“And I promise I’m not stealing anything.”
“Too late,” he mutters, and my forehead furrows.
“What do you mean?”
He shakes his head, dismissing the comment, and leans forward to press a kiss to my temple.
“How are you doing?” he asks.
“I’d never been so scared in my life. One minute, my father and I were eating breakfast, and he was lift
ing his coffee mug for his lips. The next, the mug crashed to the floor, his arm stiff. His eyes went blank, and his skin turned a smoky ash color. He tumbled from the chair as I screamed. The rest is a blur of police and ambulance. Then the emergency room where they admitted him for observation.” I pause, mellowing under Charlie’s touch.
“Mami sent me home because they’d only let one person stay in the room. My brother should be here tomorrow.” Twisting in Charlie’s sheets, I note his bed is comfortable, and it’s been a while since I’ve been in anything bigger than the twin I sleep in across from Vega. Searching for a clock, I ask, “What time is it?”
“It’s after ten.”
I turn back for Charlie. “You’re just getting home now?” I question, hating the hesitation in my voice and the implication. Richard would come home hours later than expected and always have an excuse when he smelled like alcohol and cheap perfume. Charlie doesn’t smell like either of those things.
“I got a late start today, and I had things I wanted to wrap up.”
I slowly sit, taking the sheet with me to cover my chest. “I’m sorry.”
“Not your fault,” Charlie says, leaning back to watch me rise. “Just stating a fact. It’s been a long day.” His eyes lower to the hand at my chest, holding the sheet against it.
“What are you wearing under there?” his gravelly voice asks, and I hold his eyes in response. “How willing are you?” he teases, and I slowly smile.
“It’s a bit of a contradiction, but I just need this, and you offered me anything, so…” As my words drift, Charlie slowly stands. I watch as he tugs the open tie completely off his neck and then unbuttons his shirt, one torturous button at a time. He tugs the remainder of the shirt from his pants and then drags his dress shirt and undershirt over his head from the back of his neck. So sexy.
“I should shower,” he says, still holding my eyes as his belt unbuckles, and I bite my lip, watching him drag it cautiously from the loops. He snaps it once free, and I flinch, but Charlie continues to stare at me as he drops the leather strap to the floor. His legs move, suggesting the removal of his shoes, and then he lowers for his socks. Finally, his pants come unzipped, and he tugs them down.