by L. B. Dunbar
My eyes close. Please don’t say you love me.
“I think I’ll be going.”
+ + +
Sitting on the couch, I mindlessly watch the baseball game. My feet rest on the ottoman, beer in my hand, and Lucy tucked into my side.
“Vega’s so lucky. She got to go to the game.”
“What?” I choke, my thoughts not on the screen as much as the interchange between my assistant and me. How could Charity think I’d fall for her, be open to her, just because someone new entered the office? When did she develop feelings for me, and how did I miss them? Still, all thoughts of Charity Bernard screech to a halt when Lucy mentions Vega’s at the game, which means…
“Did her mother take her?”
“Vega said her dad wanted to see her and her mother, so he invited them to the game. She’s surprised her mom said yes as her mom’s angry with her dad, but Vega thinks it’s a good thing. They need to talk.” She speaks like a therapist.
“What do they need to talk about?” I say aloud, realizing it isn’t my daughter’s place to inform me, nor should I be asking her as if she knows the answer.
“Getting back together.”
Leaning forward, I drink the rest of my beer in one gulp before setting the bottle on the tray on the ottoman.
This isn’t happening. But as fate would have it, the camera pans over the wives’ section, and there sit Janessa and Vega. They wave at the camera, and shortly afterward, Lucy’s phone pings.
“It’s a text from Vega, asking me if I saw her.”
Lucy quickly types a response while I stare at the screen. With only a flash of thirty seconds, the image of Janessa in the stadium seat etches into my head. She looked happy and beautiful and very far away from me.
Lucy’s phone pings again. “Vega says they’re staying the night in some fancy hotel and seeing her dad later.” My daughter’s excitement rises for her friend, and I realize they share a common bond—parents who led public lives and live very separate from their child. It reminds me Lucy leaves for her mother’s on Sunday. I’m still against the two-week visit, but I can’t go against the custody agreement.
“That sounds…” I can’t muster the words. Awful. Terrible. Like a bad idea.
“You know, Dad, I thought you might ask Vega’s mom out on a date.” Lucy pauses, and I turn my head to look at her, but she’s still reading her phone. “Vega and I thought it would be cool to be sisters, but you haven’t asked her mom out. Don’t you think Ms. Cruz is pretty?”
“Very pretty,” I mutter as the commercial break does a recap of people in the crowd before exiting to the true commercials. There’s Janessa’s face again. I swallow the lump in my throat. When did things get so messed up?
“You should ask her out then.”
“I can’t, honey. It’s complicated.”
“Adults always say that. It’s easy. Ms. Cruz, can I take you to dinner?” Lucy lowers her voice to mimic someone masculine. “See? Easy. One question.”
“I’m afraid she might be mad at me at the moment. Like when Vega was mad at you because you told me about her dad being famous.”
“Then you should say you’re sorry. I told Vega I was sorry and then promised never to betray her trust again unless I thought she was hurting herself.” Lucy pauses, reminding me of what I said to her. “You don’t think Ms. Cruz is hurting herself, right?”
I stare at the television, which plays a laundry detergent commercial.
Is she hurting herself? Is she hurting because we haven’t spoken? Is she still mad at me? Is she going back to him?
I’m hurting, I want to tell my child, but that would just be silly.
“No, Pint. I don’t think she’s hurting herself. She’s one tough lady, and that makes Vega strong, too.”
“Yeah, but she’s not tough like Mom. I mean, she’s nicer and all, and doesn’t get angry like Mom does.”
I turn to face my child, curled into the couch. “What do you mean?”
“Mom can get mad at me when I speak or when I don’t. Sometimes, I say the wrong thing or sit where I’m not supposed to.”
This is the first I’ve heard of this, and my brows pinch. “But Mom’s never hurt you, right?”
Lucy shakes her head, but sadness fills her expression. Angela better never lay a hand on our child, but Lucy’s been hurt in other ways. The lack of calls. The mandated visits. And obviously, this strict behavior toward her.
“I don’t want to go,” she whispers, and I fall back on the couch, returning her under my arm.
“I know, sweetheart, but I can’t go against the rules.”
“Why not? You make them. Can’t you rewrite them?”
I huff. “Not for this, Pint. Not for your visits.”
“But other rules, you could break, right?”
“Like what, Pint?” My forehead furrows as I glance down at her under my arm.
“Like your dating rules. You could ask Ms. Cruz out.”
“I don’t have dating rules,” I argue with laughter in my voice.
“You don’t date,” she says to me. I wonder where all this is coming from, or why we’re even having this discussion.
“I don’t date because you’re my best girl.” I squeeze her to my side.
“Dad,” she drones. “I’m your only girl and your daughter, but you need someone your own age.”
“Are you saying I’m old?” I laugh.
“I’m saying you must be lonely.”
“Lucy.” I drag out her name, still wondering why she’s saying this.
“It’s okay, Dad. I’m lonely sometimes, too, but now I have Vega living on the other side of the pool. It’s awesome having a best friend so close. Don’t you want a best friend? Isn’t that what dating’s like?”
Oh, God. Dating is so not like finding a best friend, but then I reconsider. Dating is the right mix between companion and lover. Could I have that with Janessa? We’ve been physical more than we’ve been friends, but we’ve still opened up to one another on occasion.
“I think I’ve burned my bridge,” I mutter, glancing back at the television. Whatever Janessa and I had won’t continue if she’s sitting at a baseball game watching her ex-husband play.
“Then it’s time to rebuild it, Dad. You’re the mayor. You make all the decisions.”
I’m stumped, schooled by my ten-year-old because she isn’t wrong.
I make the decisions for this town, and that’s why Janessa’s sitting where she is. Which leaves me sitting where I am, wondering when I will make a decision for myself and not worry about what the town thinks.
+ + +
The next morning, Charity sits at her desk while her resignation rests on mine. She’s given us her two weeks’ notice—us because she technically works for Jordan, my partner, and me.
“What happened?” Jordan says, holding out his copy of her resignation and closing the door behind him as he enters my office.
“It’s such a long story.” I’m embarrassed to tell it, but I need to tell someone. Leaving out all the heavy details, I give Jordan the gist. Charity’s crush. Her unrequited attention from me. And Janessa.
“You’re sleeping with the hottie upstairs?” His brows lift as his smile curls. “I’m so proud of you, Uncle Charlie.”
It’s rare he reminds me he’s my nephew as he became a full partner after his father’s death almost two years ago.
“Oh, God, I shouldn’t be telling you all this.” I swipe two hands down my face and scrub.
“Why? It was obviously on your mind, and I’m a big boy. I’m actually proud of you. I thought you were a monk, and I didn’t know how you did it.”
I chuckle as I look at him, looking so much like his father, Chris. “I’m definitely no saint.”
“But I’ve never seen you interested in anyone.”
I shrug. “I guess I haven’t been before. Not like this, anyway, but I’ve let something personal cloud my professional judgment.”
Jordan tip
s his head. “Sounds to me like you let your professional position get in the way of your personal life.”
“I…” I didn’t do that, did I? “I can’t have the town thinking she slept with me to get her the money she wanted.”
“Is that what she did?”
“No.”
“Then I don’t understand. You slept together.” Jordan holds up one hand. “She proposed money for a city walk.” Jordan holds up his other hand. He looks between them and back at me. “The two are not together.”
“But what will people think?”
Jordan tips his head. “You know, Charlie, sometimes that Goody Two-shoes reputation suits you, and other times, it just doesn’t. I’m not the risk-taker between Jax and myself, but I still know when there’s no other choice but to take a dare or lose out on the one thing that could make your life better. And Uncle Charlie…” he says as he stands. “There’s more to life than pleasing this town.”
When he nears the door, he turns back to me. “I’m sorry to lose Charity, but she can be replaced. Can you say the same for Janessa?”
Jordan gives me a weak smile and steps into the outer office, closing the door behind him and leaving me with lots to ponder.
+ + +
Monday morning, I find a petition on my desk.
“What’s this?” I say to no one as we agreed to let Charity go early, still honoring her two weeks’ notice. It was just too awkward between us, and I felt it was best to relieve the tension by releasing her on Friday. As I can’t buzz my assistant and demand an explanation, and the petition clearly states who it’s from, I march myself up the stairs to the second floor and knock on the Parks and Recreation door.
Entering, I find Corabelle Conrad sitting across from Janessa, and this situation has all kinds of bad news written on it. Corabelle is the neighbor at the end of the lane. Younger than my sister, Mati, they were not friends as children. Cora was spoiled and bratty. As a tattletale and a know-it-all, the traits carried into adulthood as a town gossip until she and her husband divorced. Then something happened, and Cora and Mati became friends.
“What’s this?” I repeat, holding up the paper before me.
“It’s a petition,” Janessa states.
“We formed our own committee,” Cora adds, a cheer in her voice.
“What committee?”
“Walk the Ridge,” Cora proudly says, twisting in her seat to have a better look at me over her shoulder.
“Two people do not make a committee,” I state although my voice rises.
“Oh, we have more than two on the committee. We have an entire team on our side, and we plan to raise the money for the city walk, park, and community center.”
“You still need town approval,” I remind both ladies.
Cora waves a dismissive hand. “You let me worry about that, Charlie Harrington. I can be very persuasive when I want something.”
“And since when did you want a walkway, park, or community center?” I question. My eyes leap to Janessa, who keeps hers lowered to her hands folded on her desk.
“Since I heard about the proposal. It’s an excellent proposition for our town and a nice nod to the locals while addressing the needs of tourists.”
I glare at Cora. “And what about the money necessary for this project?”
“Done,” Janessa says, lifting her head, and I stare at her. Her bright green eyes hold mine, determination in them, but there’s something else, and my heart breaks. She did it. She went to Richard for the money.
“You should use that money for yourself,” I whisper although I’m still loud enough for both women to hear me. Cora turns to Janessa, and their eyes meet for a conversation I can’t interpret. Janessa shakes her head once and then turns back to me.
“Is there anything else you need, sir?”
You, I want to scream. I need you bent over this desk and to be buried in you to bring us back to right with one another. Then I think of what Lucy said. I should apologize. I should ask her out. With Cora as my witness, I blurt out my next thoughts.
“I’d like to suggest we have dinner and discuss this further.”
“I don’t see how din—” Janessa begins.
“That sounds like a wonderful suggestion. Let’s say The Patio at six,” Cora interjects, standing from her seat. Only she doesn’t make to leave.
“Janessa, could I please—”
“Nope,” Cora mutters again. “Perhaps your secretary could make an appointment with us. Oh wait, where is Charity?” Cora’s eyes narrow at me, warning me she already knows, which is the last thing I need.
“Charity resigned,” I offer, meeting Janessa’s eyes around Cora. Her brows lift but then quickly lower.
“Such a shame. She’s a good woman. She’ll find someone else, I mean, something else,” Cora corrects.
“Corabelle, don’t you have somewhere to be?”
“Nope,” she says again. “Committee meeting. We have business to discuss. Nice to see you, Charlie.” Cora waves her hand, dismissing me while I look back at Janessa, who fights a smile. Well, at least someone’s having fun with this. Excusing myself, I tug the door behind me, slamming it a little harder than necessary, but I’m pissed.
Just what are those two up to?
26
Stealing Hearts
[Janessa]
Thankfully, Charlie cancels the dinner meeting, and Cora and I meet with our team as she calls the collection of people she’s recruited to help us. I don’t know how she did it, but as Cora said, she can be very persuasive. We have a new proposal for the August town council meeting in which we will present the plans again with the financials spelled out—no debt to the city. It’s hard to believe it’s really going to happen. We only have to hope Charlie won’t find a new reason to disapprove the construction.
I’m coming home late, having spent another evening with my brother and his new friends at Ridged Edge. It’s a questionable place, but it’s growing on me. As I park my dad’s old truck, I notice the lights on for Charlie’s batting cage. I hesitate for a second, debating if I should ignore the familiar crack of a bat or finally face Charlie. Cora really flustered him this morning.
Deciding I’ll only take a peek at the man I miss, I slink down the path to the old tennis courts. Standing in the shadows, I watch the power of Charlie’s swing, the grace in his stance, and the concentration on his etched face. He’s such a beautiful man. The ball shoots out of the machine, aiming for him. Charlie swings and misses.
“Dammit,” he curses aloud.
“You need to choke up a bit.”
At the sound of my voice, he spins, finding me pressed against the chain-link fence. He stills for only a second and then returns his attention to the batting machine. Another ball flies at him. He hits it head-on, and the thud reverberates against the metal opposite him. He continues to ignore me with another pitch, and then he stops. Lowering the bat for the court, he leans against the end of it. His head hangs, and my heart breaks.
“I thought you’d understand I was doing it to protect you.” His low voice travels to me, and I almost miss all the words.
From outside the cage, I reply. “I thought you’d understand I need to do this to prove to myself I can.”
Charlie picks up the bat and takes a few steps closer to my position. Leaning forward once again with both hands on the end of the wooden stick, Charlie looks up at me.
“How would I know that? I feel like I hardly know anything about you.”
“When I gave up my career to be Richard’s wife, I was happy to be the mother to our child. But as Vega grew and Richard separated from me, I needed something more. I missed my job. This is my second chance, and by some miracle, you hired me. I want to make a mark.” My forehead lowers for the metal links. “Maybe I dreamed too big?” My fingers curl into the fencing. Maybe it was too ambitious. What do I care about this town? I’m new here. But like I said, I’m hoping for a fresh start.
“I don’t think any dream
is too big.” Charlie’s voice surprises me. He’s standing closer, just on the other side of the fence, but I feel like we stand miles apart.
“I miss you,” I blurt, looking up at him, and Charlie’s lips twist.
“I miss you. Everything is falling apart.”
This reminds me I didn’t know about Charity. “What happened with Charity?”
“She hit on me, and I didn’t reciprocate, so she quit.”
“Oh, my God.” I laugh.
“It isn’t funny,” Charlie says, looking up at me, his eyes serious.
I swallow back more laughter. “It’s a little funny.”
“How’s that?” He cocks his head to the side.
“Because look at you, Charlie, and look at her. You’re all masculine and intense and amazing in the bedroom, and she seems mousy and meek and just wanting to be on the arm of a congressman.”
Charlie’s brows lift. “You think I’m amazing in bed?”
I chuckle softly. “Come on, Charlie. You know you are.”
He steps closer to the fence, linking his fingers through the metal, similar to mine only higher. “Actually, I don’t know that. I suddenly feel like I don’t know anything about myself. Who am I? What do I want?”
“Who do you think you are, Charlie?”
“I’m the town’s mayor and work hard for my city. I love my daughter, and it almost killed me to put her on the plane yesterday for her mandated two-week visit with her mother.”
“Charlie,” I hiss. “I’m so sorry.” Instead of going to him, I press myself against the cage between us, needing to be closer but not trusting myself.
He shrugs.
“What do you want?” My voice lowers, and my eyes shift, afraid to look at him and hear the truth. How he wants someone like Charity Bernard and a congressman position. A life where he’ll have a safe girl on his arm and a high-profile job.
“You,” he whispers. His forehead leans against the chain links. “I only want you.”