by Vi Keeland
However, my smile quickly faded upon the sight of a familiar face walking toward me, the same one who’d happened to rip my heart out two years earlier. All the energy was suddenly sucked out of me.
Allison.
CHAPTER 14
CHARLOTTE
I couldn’t believe my eyes.
It was her. Reed’s ex-fiancée, Allison. At the bar.
What is she doing here?
My curiosity got the best of me as I inched my way closer to where they were standing.
Allison had blonde hair that was darker than mine. She was tall, almost Reed’s height. But she was gorgeous, and I couldn’t help the twinge of jealousy I felt as I saw them together for the first time.
For two people who had been so in love, though, they definitely seemed uncomfortable around each other at the moment.
My need to know what had actually happened between them was stronger than ever. I kept my eyes on them as if I would be able to figure something out from just observing them.
Reed looked distressed, fidgeting with his watch as they made small talk.
She took a deep breath, then exhaled. “You look good.”
“Thank you,” he said without making eye contact.
“I happened to see all of the tents set up as I was driving to my parents’ and thought I would stop by to say hello, see how you’re doing.”
I noticed he went to straighten his tie, but he wasn’t wearing one. It was like he didn’t know what to do with his hands.
It wasn’t my place to interrupt, but my instinct told me that he wanted a way out of the conversation. No, he needed it.
“I’m very sorry to interrupt, Mr. Eastwood, but we really need to discuss Project Squirrel. I have to leave soon and really don’t want to miss the opportunity to pick your brain.”
Allison looked between us. “Project what?”
Reed seemed like he didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “Ah yes, very important. I need to attend to this. Allison, it was great seeing you. We’ll have to catch up again some other time.”
“Great seeing you, too.”
Reed followed me, and we just kept walking in silence until we were far away from the festivities. It felt like we’d walked at least a half mile.
They had so much land. And there were outdoor lights all throughout the multi-acre estate.
We finally stopped at a small lake that ran along the property. I sat down on the grass and Reed joined me.
He looked up at the sky as he spoke. “How did you know I needed a way out of that conversation?”
“Your face. You seemed very uncomfortable talking to her. I figured I would at least try getting you out of it. I told myself that if I was mistaken, you didn’t have to go along with it.”
“Thank you.”
“Was she supposed to be here?”
He simply shook his head no.
“Why did she come?”
“Her family’s estate is just down the road. She stopped by to say hello. Security knows her and probably let her in, thinking she was invited.”
I wanted so badly to ask again what had transpired between them, but then I remembered what had happened back at the hotel on Long Island when he snapped at me.
Reed was gazing up at the stars. To my surprise, he partly answered the question in my head without my having to even ask.
“She hurt me very badly when she realized the future she thought we were going to have was going to look a bit different than she’d always imagined it to be. Without going into details, she showed me that her love was definitely conditional.”
“There is no such thing as conditional love.”
“You’re right,” he said. “But it was difficult for me to realize that. I believed that I loved her unconditionally. When love is not returned, you have to learn to unlove the other person. The mind tells you that you’re not supposed to love them anymore, but the heart isn’t listening so easily.”
“Do you still love her?”
“Not in the same way, but my feelings are complicated.”
My heart broke for him, but at the same time, I envied Allison for having been the recipient of true love. Todd had never loved me. I knew that now. Knowing that Allison’s love for Reed was conditional definitely shattered the idea I’d had about them when I first discovered the blue note. I was realizing I didn’t really know anything at all, but I was afraid to pry too much. At the same time, seeing that he was still struggling with his feelings warmed my heart and gave me hope that there were men out there who were truly capable of love.
I stared at Reed’s profile. God, was there really anything sexier than a gorgeous man who just wanted to be loved by a woman?
He picked at the grass. “I really wish she hadn’t shown up.”
My eyes stayed glued to his long, masculine fingers on the ground. “I’m glad she did, because you have to be able to face her to move on. It was good practice. Plus, did you see the look on her face? She was really confused when you left. And that made it all worth it.”
“Project Squirrel.” He laughed under his breath.
I chuckled. “Project Squirrel. Definition: the nonexistent, top-secret business venture that hereby serves as the perfect way out of any uncomfortable situation.”
He sighed. “I could really use that drink, but I don’t feel like walking back just yet.”
I started to stand up. “Want me to go get us drinks? You can stay here.”
“No.” He placed his hand on my leg, prompting me to sit back down.
We sat in silence for a while. “Does this lake belong to you?”
“Yes. It’s part of our property.”
“Wow.”
Something amazing occurred to me in that moment. Well, I wasn’t sure if Reed would consider it amazing. But the wheels in my mind were turning. Apparently my joy was transparent.
“What do you have going on in that head of yours, Charlotte?”
“I feel like I’m ready to burst. I’m getting this urge to do something crazy.”
“Now?”
“I added a couple of things to my Fuck-It List recently. And one of them involves a lake. It just feels like the opportunity is being presented to me right now.”
“What you mean, ‘involves a lake’?”
“Go Skinny-Dipping in a Lake at Night. I’m never at a lake at night. God knows when it would happen again. This just feels like fate. But I don’t want to freak you out if you’d prefer I didn’t do it.”
“You seriously didn’t just make that shit up? That was really on your list?”
“I swear.”
He shocked me when he said, “Then I think you should do it.”
“Really?”
“Yes. It would be the most fitting ending to this bizarre night.”
“Do you think anyone will venture down this far? I wouldn’t want to get caught.”
“I doubt it. But make it fast. I’ll stand guard. And I won’t look.”
“You’re really encouraging me to do this?”
“Call me insane, but I need all the distraction I can get tonight, even if it comes in the form of your crazy. I don’t feel like going back to the party yet, so we might as well pass the time. I’m turning around now.”
His back faced me. I squealed in delight as I swiftly got out of my clothes before jumping into the water, which was surprisingly warm.
Once my body was immersed, I called out, “Safe to turn around!”
Reed stood with his hands in his pockets as he watched me bounce around the water. He didn’t move from his spot and kept his eyes on me, occasionally looking back to make sure no one was coming.
I yelled over to him, “See . . . that’s one of the differences between a fuck-it list and a bucket list—the spontaneity factor. The fuck-it list is more spur of the moment. Part of the mantra of the fuck-it list is that if the opportunity comes to you, you need to take it. And that’s what I’m doing.”
It felt exhilarating to be na
ked at night on this property. It was also thrilling because it seemed so naughty, given that Reed was standing just feet away from me. My nipples hardened at the thought.
I was proud of myself for seizing the moment. I likely wouldn’t have considered doing something so spontaneous during the time I was engaged to Todd. In that sense, surviving the breakup had not only made me stronger but also more adventurous.
After I’d had my fill, I said, “I’m coming out!”
Reed turned his back to me. I slipped my dress back on over my wet body while the reality of what I’d done started to sink in.
“How do we explain why you’re all wet?” he asked.
“I don’t know. How are you going to explain it, Reed?” I grinned impishly.
“You’re going to put this on me, Darling? Is that a challenge?”
“If you want to take it.”
When we arrived back at the party, thankfully, it seemed Allison had left the premises.
People were looking at us, confused, particularly Max and Jared. Everyone was perplexed except for Iris, who was beaming.
“What on earth happened to you, Charlotte?” she asked.
I looked at Reed and waited for his response, trying my best not to lose my shit.
He finally answered his grandmother’s question.
“Charlotte and I took a walk to discuss business. She sees this squirrel run right into the lake. It was dark, and the rodent was flailing its little arms and legs for dear life, trying to stay afloat. She then decides to go and pull a Charlotte, didn’t even think twice, jumped right into the lake and saved it . . . set it free, saved its life.”
Reed deserved an Academy Award, because he delivered that ridiculous story with unwavering seriousness.
“Charlotte, you never cease to amaze me,” Iris said.
“Yeah, she’s pretty amazing.” Reed smiled.
I kept waiting for him to add something to ruin that sweet sentence, something like “pretty amazing for a crazy person.” But he never did.
I felt like I owed Reed big-time. He’d assisted me with my lake jaunt and played along so well after. Now that I knew how great it felt to knock that first item off my list, I was even more motivated to start helping him with his own bucket list.
The following Wednesday, I stayed at the office late to research choirs in the state of New York.
It felt like I’d hit the jackpot when I stumbled upon the Brooklyn Tabernacle Choir. I immediately sent an email to inquire as to whether they were accepting new members.
The choir director returned my email right away and provided me with some dates for their upcoming open-enrollment tryouts.
Printing out all the materials, I wondered how Reed was going to react. When I got to his office, he wasn’t there, so I left all the information in a folder on his desk with a note that read: Paying you back. Let’s do this!
The next morning, I got to the office early to find another blue note from Reed sitting on the center of my desk.
Anytime I’d see this stationery, it would give me goosebumps and remind me about discovering that blue piece of paper inside of the dress.
I eagerly picked up the note and read it.
Dear Charlotte:
Do you know why squirrels love you so much?
Because you’re NUTS.
Reed
I shook my head and whispered to myself, “These are the kind of love notes you’re doling out now, Eastwood?” I laughed. “More like a hate note.”
CHAPTER 15
REED
I hadn’t planned on showing up.
At least that was what I’d told myself. The fact that I’d set up an appointment with a prospective seller in the Cobble Hill section of Brooklyn had nothing to do with open tryouts going on twelve blocks away the very same day.
My meeting happened to end at six thirty, and driving up Smith Street took me right past a certain massive church. Next thing I knew, I had parked and was following a herd of people like a mindless sheep.
“Welcome to the Tabernacle.” An older man at the entrance handed me a brochure with a warm smile. “Talent is a gift from God. Sharing it here is your gift back. Good luck tonight.”
While the inviting gesture should have made me feel at ease, it made me feel the exact opposite. I wanted to run the hell out of here. But since I’d come this far, I tamped down the urge to flee, took a seat in the very back row, and watched all the excited faces pile into the front pews of the church.
“Mind if I sit next to you?” The guy who’d greeted me stood in the aisle at the end of the pew I sat in. I glanced around the church. There had to be thirty completely empty rows in front of me.
He read my face. “I like to sit next to the door in case there are any interruptions or latecomers that make a ruckus.”
I nodded and slid over in the pew to make room. It was after seven. People had stopped piling in, but auditions hadn’t started up yet.
“You new? Don’t think I’ve seen you around here before.”
“I just stopped in to . . .” What the hell was I doing here? “. . . to check things out.”
“So you don’t sing?”
“No. Yes. No. Yes. I mean . . . I used to. A long time ago.”
He nodded. “What made you stop coming to church?”
I hadn’t said I’d stopped coming to church. I’d only implied I once sang and didn’t anymore. “How do you know I don’t go to a different church?”
He smiled. “Do you?”
I couldn’t help but laugh a little. “No. I don’t.”
He motioned to the back pews. “When people first come back after a long absence, they tend to sit in the back rows.”
I nodded. “Makes the escape easier.”
“How long’s it been?”
“Since I sang?”
He shook his head. “No. Since you’ve been to God’s house.”
I knew the answer without having to think about it. The last time I’d stepped foot inside of a church had been with Allison. We’d gone to mass before our scheduled meeting with the deacon. It had been two weeks before our wedding day, and we’d given him the readings and song choices we’d picked out for the ceremony. Ironically, the day we’d gone to God’s house had been the night that she’d chosen for her come-to-Jesus moment. “It’s been a while.”
“I’m Terrence.” The man extended his hand. “Welcome back.”
“Reed.” I shook. “And I’m not sure I’m actually back.”
“Every journey begins with a first step. You planning on trying out for the choir?”
“I haven’t made up my mind yet. Figured I’d watch tonight and see how things go. There’s a second tryout night next week, isn’t there?”
“That’s right.”
The church doors opened, and a guy in a maintenance uniform walked in. Spotting Terrence, he said, “Got an issue with the boiler in the basement. Could use a few hands to help me move the file cabinets that Miss Margaret made us store down there. They’re blocking access to the system.”
Terrence nodded and turned to me. “A volunteer’s work is never done around here.” He stood and patted me on the shoulder. “I hope you find what you’re looking for.”
A few days later, I still hadn’t decided if I was going back for the only other audition night at the Brooklyn Tabernacle. But when I went into my online calendar, I noticed that an appointment had been booked for that night. The scheduler showed that Charlotte had entered the appointment, although the only information on the blocked-out time was a bunch of letters that spelled nothing: SFBGITS.
I picked up the phone and called her extension.
She answered on the second ring, “Bonjour, Monsieur Eastwood. Je peux vous aider?”
What the . . . “Charlotte?”
“Oui.”
Then it dawned on me. When I’d stalked her Fuck-It List online the other day, Learn French had been added. I’d seen her in the break room earlier, eating her lunch with earbud
s in while mumbling to herself. Now it made sense. Well, sense for Charlotte Darling. She’d been listening to phrases and practicing speaking them.
Luckily, I’d taken some French myself. “Ne tenez-vous pas la langue anglaise assez?” Translation: Don’t you butcher the English language enough? I covered the phone and chuckled, because I had no fucking clue if my own translation was even correct.
She responded, “Umm. Huh?”
I chuckled. “That’s what I thought.”
“I’m still learning.”
“I never would’ve guessed . . .”
“Shut up. Did you call for a reason, or did you just get the urge to poke fun at someone so you automatically dialed my extension?”
“Actually, I called for a reason. You just make it so easy to poke fun.”
“What did you want?”
“There’s an appointment on my calendar for Wednesday at seven. It’s labeled SFBGITS. Do you know what that is?”
“Of course. SFBGITS—‘Sing for big guy in the sky.’ I wrote it in code so no one would figure it out except us.”
I shook my head. “Except you, you mean.”
“Whatever. Are you excited? Have you been practicing?”
“I’m not auditioning, Charlotte.” Even if I’d decided to do it, there was no way I’d have let her know about it. I hadn’t sung in years, and the people at those tryouts were really good. I doubted I could even make the cut. Besides, if by some long shot I did make it through tryouts, I envisioned her sitting in the first row of every performance. She’d probably invite the entire office staff and a few janitors I’ve never met from the building, too.
I could imagine the pout on her face when she spoke. “Why not?”
“Just because I made the list doesn’t mean I’m planning on attacking it like it’s a race.”
“Oh.” She was quiet for a moment. Then again said, “Why not?”
“Just take the appointment off my calendar, Charlotte.”
“Fine.”
After I hung up, I felt slightly bad about being a dick toward her. So I opened up her calendar, called up all her appointments and reminders for the next week, and began to translate them all from English to French for her to work through.