Can’t Let You Go

by Jenny B. Jones

  A devastating loss. “They died a noble death. I will think of them fondly and write dark poetry of their sacrifice.”

  “Let’s get some of this furniture to the living room.”

  “Water’s in there.”

  “To the garage.”

  We spent the next three hours transferring furniture and odds and ends to the garage, then cleaning as best we could. Charlie got a wet vac from one of the neighbors and got rid of some of the water. It seemed to be everywhere I looked. Millie was going to pass out when she saw her house.

  At the stroke of midnight, we were still working, so I decided to make dinner.

  When the doorbell rang, I took the food from the delivery guy, looking like I had just popped up from a sewage drain. My hair hung in a wet, stringy mess, and frizz had staged a war and won. My clothes were soaked, and I knew I probably smelled.

  And yet here Charlie sat in James’s very dry office, settled into a leather recliner, and looking at me like I had just placed in Miss America.

  Or maybe he was just ogling the pizza.

  Armed with more dry towels and paper plates, I sat on the floor and opened the pizza box, the scent nearly bringing me to revival.

  I slid two slices onto Charlie’s plate, then filled my own. “It was nice of you to come over.” I took a bite, savoring the gooey cheese on my tongue. “You saved me. Again.”

  Charlie eased onto the floor beside me. “Got a little marinara there.” He reached out and used his thumb to swipe a drop of sauce from the corner of my mouth. “You know, I’m not the bad guy you’ve decided I am.”

  “I don’t think you’re. . .a bad guy.”

  “That’s something I guess.”

  I leaned back on my hands and closed my eyes for a moment, letting the tension ease from my neck. “This is a nightmare.”

  “It’ll be okay.”

  “Is that what you told yourself when you got assigned to In Between?”

  The mood in the room shifted so hard, it was a wonder the floor didn’t quake. Despite the awful circumstances, we had been getting along so well in the last few hours. Laughing even.

  “Can’t we pretend like we’re not on opposite sides for tonight?”

  “Are we on opposite sides?” I studied his face, wanting so badly to know what was truly going on in that brain of his. “Do you really want a Thrifty Co. here more than you want to save our businesses?”

  “It’s complicated.”

  “Try and explain. I’ll Google the big words.”

  “Nothing I can say is going to make this go away.” Charlie reached out his hand and pushed a damp strand of hair from my face. “I wish I could fix this. But if I wasn’t here in this job, someone else would be. I’m not the person shutting down your theater. I’m just the low guy on the totem pole who has to stay and put on a good face when it’s over.”

  “Lots of people in town don’t like you very much right now.”

  His expression darkened as he slowly nodded. “I guess that’s a work hazard.”

  “I just. . .I’m just so disappointed this is your job. That it’s okay with you.”

  “It’s not okay with me. I lie awake every night, seeing the faces of those angry business owners, people who were a part of my teenage years. Good people who know me.” He rested his hand on my dirt stained knee. “Mostly I see your face. Hear your angry voice and see that disappointment in your eyes.”

  The crickets sang their lonely night song outside the windows, filling our silence. Charlie’s gaze held me in place, but I didn’t know what he wanted me to say. I was too tired to fight. Too sad to keep repeating what I’d said time and again.

  Charlie picked the discarded crust from my plate and bit into it. We’d shared many a pizza like this. This was a man who had never feared carbs.

  “Where were we headed before you knew the truth about my job?” He gave my knee a light squeeze. “You and me.”

  “I don’t know.”

  He rested his hand on the floor behind me, his body slanted toward mine. “I think you would’ve bailed on me at some point anyway.”

  “Why?” I licked my lips, suddenly uncomfortable with this new direction of conversation. “Why would you say that?”

  “Because that’s what you do. When things get too close, you jump ship. Maybe that’s what you did with Ian.”

  “I’d like to remind you that Ian was getting it on with his assistant. Pretty sure my bailing had nothing to do with my emotional inadequacies.”

  “How was it going before you found him cheating?”

  It was hard to chew when he kept bringing up Ian. “I guess if it had been going well, he wouldn’t have strayed.”

  “At some point, you’re going to have to dig in and stay. Fight for the relationship. Love that man enough to do it afraid.”

  “I’m not afraid.”

  Charlie was so close, his lips were a breath from mine. “Aren’t you?”

  I said nothing, just shook my head.

  “I think you are. I think you’re afraid for someone to love you. For someone to honest-to-God love you.”

  “I’ve been in love,” I said.

  “I’m talking about the kind where you stay. Where you have to. Even when it’s tough, even when it’s ugly, and nothing makes sense except for one thing. That one thing you know is that that man loves you, and you love him. And you stay, Katie.”

  “Are you telling me I should’ve stuck it out with Ian?”

  “No.” Fire lit the dark flecks in Charlie’s eyes. “You should be as far from that jerk as possible.”

  “So we’re talking about you.”

  “What if we were?”

  “I can’t even trust you,” I said. “And given my last relationship, I’m not going to toss my heart over to someone who—”

  “You know me,” Charlie said. “No matter what I do for a living, no matter who I work for, you know who I am.”

  “Do I?”

  “I’m still that guy you sat next to on Flight 247.”

  “No. That man who threw himself over me to protect me from an imminent crash, who carried my unconscious body off the plane—that guy does the right thing. He doesn’t follow money or try to walk in anyone’s footsteps to prove—”

  “I am not my father.”

  “Really? You can’t tell me when you’re losing all that sleep, that that thought doesn’t cross your mind.”

  “And who are you becoming?” Charlie stood up, dusting the grime from his jeans. “You’ve got a string of auditions you could go on, and you’re here.”

  “My family’s here. And in case you hadn’t noticed, I’m kind of needed. This corporate giant is trying to ruin my town. And if you manage to leave the Valiant alone, I’ll be managing that soon.”

  “You’re running. Again.”

  I wasn’t going to have this man tower over me. I stood to my feet and marched out of the office. In case Charlie had forgotten where the front door was, I would lead him there. It was past time for him to go. “I’ll return to acting when I darn well feel like it.”

  Charlie followed me into the hall. “No, you won’t. You’ll stay here, settle in, and become something that was second or third on your list. Like teach or social work.”

  My pulse beat a hot tempo at my temples. “There is nothing wrong with either of those jobs.”

  “Of course not. Unless it’s something you settle for because you were too scared to pursue your dream.”

  I flung open the door, letting it crash on its frame. “I think it’s time you left. I’m grateful for your help, but—”

  “Anything worth having doesn’t come easy, Katie. Whether that’s us or your stage career. You’re all about it as long as it’s easy, then as soon as you meet any resistance, you quit.”

  “You call finding out you’re not who I thought you were resistance?”

  Charlie loomed over me as he brushed past. “Yes. And I also say you’re too chicken to go out to New York and go on a stu
pid audition. Or two. Or three. Heck, it might take twenty or thirty to get a part. But you’ll never know.”

  Hot tears pressed against the back of my eyes. “I’m glad you’ve got my life all figured out.” I shoved a towel into his chest. “But maybe you should take a good, hard look at your own. Because if I’m settling, I can assure you I’m not the only one.”

  My attempt to slam the door was halted by his arm. “One more thing.”

  “What?” I yelled.

  Charlie’s chest rose and fell in heavy breaths, and he briefly looked away, as if searching for patience in the umbrella holder by the door. Finally he lifted his head, focusing those tired eyes on me. “I called Maxine. She and Sam are expecting you tonight.”

  I lifted my chin. “I can take care of myself.”

  “That may be, but you’ll be doing it without a bathroom. Your water’s turned off.”

  Oh.

  I guess he could be right about something.

  “Fine.” I could attempt to be civil too. “Thank you. Thank you very much for your help.” Though the advice was totally crappy.

  “You’ll need to call your insurance.”

  “Okay.”

  “Tonight.”

  “Just as soon as you leave.”

  “I’m gone.” And he shut the door behind him.

  But he was still in the driveway when I pulled out of the garage fifteen minutes later. And his familiar rental car followed me all the way to Maxine and Sam’s, not leaving until I was safely inside.

  “So,” Maxine said as she led me to the guest room. “Were you and Charlie able to get any of it cleaned up?”

  “Maxine”—I put my bag down and threw my arms around my grandma—“I think we just made an even bigger mess.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  “Did you call the repairman?” Maxine asked as we pulled into my driveway bright and early the next morning.

  “No.” A Patterson’s Home Repair van sat in the street, and at the sight of my car, a uniformed man climbed out.

  “You Katie Parker?” he asked when I stepped out of the car.

  “Who wants to know?” Maxine popped her gum. “What are you, some ambulance chaser of a fix-it guy? You hear talk of my granddaughter flooding her home, and you all come running with your wrenches, water suckers, and thingie-mabobbers?”

  “It’s already paid for.” He pushed up the brim of his black company cap, his gray hair springing out the sides. “All I know is I’ve been dispatched to this here house to replace a water heater.”

  “Who paid you?”

  “That fellow right there.” The man pointed behind us, where Charlie Benson was pulling in.

  “He bought you a water heater.” Maxine sigh was a slow drawl. “That is so romantic.” She linked her arm with the repairman’s. “Follow me. I’ll lead you to the culprit. You know, I do so admire a man in uniform.”

  She guided the repairman inside, while I stood on the front step watching Charlie slowly walk my way. He had a way of carrying himself that spoke of confidence and strength. I could see him one day being president of Thrifty Co. He would get there sooner than later, and while family connections may have opened that first door, it was his own abilities that would push him to the top. I wondered how long it would be before he was the one making the decisions to tear down businesses and brush hog the small man.

  “Do you know something about this repair guy?”

  Charlie pushed his hands into the pockets of his khaki shorts, and his black Aviators hid whatever might’ve been brewing in those eyes. “Fred’s one of the best in the county. He’ll get you taken care of.”

  “I don’t need you to pay for it.”

  “Too late.”

  “Insurance would cover it.”

  “Yeah, and it would take them days. Did you want cold showers in the meantime?”

  I didn’t know what to say. I had zero experience in pricing hot water heaters, but it couldn’t have been cheap.

  “You’re kind of dressed down for the day, aren’t you?” I took in his flip-flops and a t-shirt that advertised some beach town in Florida. “Did the man-eating boss give you the day off?”

  Charlie’s full lips curved, and he propped his hand on the porch beam right over my head. “I took the day off so I could help you. Now are you going to invite me in, or do I have to wait for an invitation from my friend Fred.”

  “Fred is pretty handsome. You could do worse.”

  Charlie’s grin deepened.

  I would not smile at him. I wouldn’t. All he had to do was breathe, and charm and charisma surrounded him like the wings of an angel. I had to keep my wits about me. My mother would’ve fallen for those brooding eyes, chiseled jaw, and body of a Hollywood action star, but I wouldn’t.

  I couldn’t. But I did have business with the boy. There were words I needed to give him that had sat heavy on my heart all night.

  “You gonna let me in, Parker?”

  “No.”

  Charlie merely lifted a brow, stared down at me. . .and waited. “Is there a problem?”

  “Yes.” My word, he looked incredibly dashing today. And he smelled like that cologne he’d always worn, the one I had gotten him that one memorable Christmas. “I mean, no. I. . .” So hard. The words lodged in my throat like Millie’s bean balls. “I wanted to . . . apologize.”

  One single brow lifted. “Is that so?”

  “You came over last night and were an incredible help. I have no idea what I would’ve done if you hadn’t answered your phone.”

  He shifted closer. “I will always answer your calls.”

  The heat index under this porch had to be climbing. “And I’m sorry I turned it into an argument. You didn’t deserve that. I mean, you do deserve what I said, because I was right, and I can’t stand what you’re a part of, and I think you’re making a huge mistake.” I took a breath. “But last night wasn’t the time.”

  Charlie took off his sunglasses and focused those grays right on me. “I kind of got lost in some of that. Was that an apology?”

  “Yes.” I returned his smile. “Somewhere in there, there definitely was one.” I leaned on tip-toe and before reason prevailed, I gave him a kiss on the cheek. “I’m sorry.”

  I didn’t know if I robbed the man speechless, but he didn’t move. Charlie simply stood there, so close I could move right into his arms if I wanted.

  And glory, how I did want.

  Charlie studied the ground, head bent, as if his thoughts weighed him down. “Katie, nothing in this buyout deal is simple,” he finally said. “It’s more complicated than you could ever imagine.”

  His tone sounded defeated and heavy, yet laced with something I couldn’t define. “Enlighten me.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Because of family obligations or Thrifty Co.?”

  “Both,” he said. “But I care about you. I care about this town. And I want to do the right thing by everyone.”

  “Including your company.”

  “My uncle’s company.” He looked around, like he expected someone to be lurking in the landscaping. “You guys need a new lawywer,” he advised quietly. “The longer you let that go, the worse your case is.”

  “James said he’s in contact with someone.” It was killing my dad to be so far away, with such limited communication while the case completely unraveled.

  “It can’t wait. And you can’t pick just any attorney. You need someone with experience in this sort of thing.”

  “Why are you telling me this?”

  “Nobody likes to see a total shutout. They want a fair fight.”

  “You mean it’s bad press for you guys if it’s a total shutout. Thrifty Co. ends up looking like the giant who squashed the little man.”

  “Not quite what I meant.”

  “This morning three major cable news networks picked up the story. They went live with it on air and their websites”

  “I’m aware.”

  Of course he was. It
was his job. “Sorry if that’s making trouble for your career pursuits.”

  “Your first apology was half way believable. That one was just pure sass.”

  “Ian always said my acting skills were weak.”

  “I guess your ex-boyfriend is good for something—he’s garnered more attention for In Between than your attorney ever did. When did you say your British chap was leaving town?”

  “Is Thrifty Co. feeling our choke hold yet? I guess you didn’t expect us to come up swinging. Is our little portion of the street really worth your company’s reputation being dragged through the mud?”

  “How much more you got?”

  “Remember that time we went four wheeling after the storm on old man Holt’s farm?” We’d ridden for hours, mud flying, brown from scalp to shoes, laughing ’til I ached. “That day won’t even compare to what we’re going to bring.” I was bluffing really. I knew Ian was at the point where he had exhausted all his contacts. It was simply a waiting game to see if the small media fire he lit would catch and grow into an inferno.

  “I remember that day.” The look in Charlie’s eyes told me he recalled more than just the mud slinging. It had been our senior year. I’d just been put in the friend zone by my boyfriend Tate weeks before, and Charlie and I had gravitated back toward one another like fate had tugged us in with this invisible string. It was that day that I’d sat behind him on the four wheeler, my hands tight around his waist, and knew I was where I belonged.

  “And then college came, and you forgot me,” I said.

  “Is that what you think?” Charlie leaned down, his face near enough to tempt. “I seem to recall it was the other way around.”

  “And now?” I asked. “You’re leaving me behind again.”

  “I’m not.” Charlie’s hands slid up my arms and rested on my shoulders. “This is my job. And I can’t walk away from it. I don’t expect you to understand that, and that might make me the enemy to you. But we both know that’s not what I want you to see when you look at me.”

  “I don’t know how I can see anything else. What are you going to do when they bulldoze the Valiant—hold my hand. . . or hand me a check? You work for them, Charlie.”