Second Hearts (The Wishes Series)

by G. J. Walker-Smith

  The slab of pie in front of me was more food than I usually consume in a day. She obviously expected the story to be long.

  “What do you want to know?”

  Like a true journalist, Bente wanted to know everything, starting from the beginning. For the most part, it was a story I enjoyed telling. It only became arduous once I got to the lost-my-mind-and-let-him-go part.

  “That explains so much,” she mused, between mouthfuls of the sickly sweet dessert.

  “Like what?”

  “Like why you keep defending him, for one.”

  I stabbed at my pie with a fork, avoiding her inquisitive stare. “I love him.”

  She shook her head. “I’ve only ever known your prince charming to be a frog, Charli. I can’t imagine Adam being in love with anyone other than himself. Are you sure we’re talking about the same guy?”

  I nodded. I loved him unconditionally. He was my frog. And regardless what was thrown at me, I planned to keep it that way.

  Our banter could have continued for hours if the madman barrelling in to the restaurant hadn’t interrupted us. Bente jumped as he crashed through the front door, but I barely reacted. I knew Ryan was there for me.

  “You!” he yelled, pointing at me. “Little Miss Larcenist. Where’s Adam?”

  “Not here. Why would he be here?” I spoke as casually as my thumping criminal heart would allow. He looked truly angry.

  Ryan grabbed me by the elbow, leading me away from the journalism student, who sat in wide-eyed stunned silence.

  “We could have sorted this out amicably, you know,” he hissed. “Adam could’ve told me he wanted to take the furniture, I would have said no. He would have seen things my way and left empty handed.”

  I snatched my arm free. “That’s your idea of an amicable resolution?”

  “I don’t have time to go shopping for furniture, Charli,” he whined. “IKEA would be a very nice day out for the two of you.”

  His patronising approach riled me. “Can’t you call someone, Ryan? Hire an interior decorator?”

  He pointed his finger at me. “Oh, you’re good,” he crooned. “But I’m not under your spell, Charlotte. I want my couches back.”

  “So why are you telling me? Go and ask your brother.”

  Ryan shook his head at me, still wagging his finger. It seemed an eternity before he unlocked eyes and stormed out of the restaurant. He saved his parting words for Bente. “Watch her,” he ordered. “Count all the silverware before she leaves.”

  Ryan had been gone for at least a minute before Bente finally spoke. “Frog or no frog, it’s going to be a lot of fun having you around, Charli.”

  ***

  I wasn’t expecting the furniture to still be there when I arrived home. Not only was it there, it was perfectly positioned in the room. Gabrielle’s little apartment had taken on a whole new feel.

  The two black suede couches and low glass table took up most of the room, but the biggest presence in the apartment was Adam, who stood in the kitchen smiling like he was truly pleased to see me.

  I kicked off my shoes and took off my coat, instantly feeling lighter and less tired.

  Adam seized my face in his hands and kissed me intently. It took a few seconds for me to realise that the ringing I heard was not in my head; it was coming from the pocket of my coat.

  “Let it go,” he urged, unsteadily.

  I couldn’t let it go for a good reason: I knew who it would be. Alex was the only person who called me that late at night. Calculating time differences wasn’t something he excelled at either.

  Breaking free of Adam’s hold was relatively easy. Keeping my composure while I spoke to my father was a little trickier. I had other things on my mind, namely the gorgeous French-American being held back only by my hand on his chest.

  It should have been a pivotal phone call. For the first time in a long time, I had important news. I wanted to blurt the whole story out and get it over with. I wanted to tell him that I’d come full circle and was back in the arms of the boy I belonged with. But I didn’t. We spoke about the weather. And when that subject ran cold we moved on to our plans for Christmas.

  “What do you have planned?” he asked me.

  I repeated the question out loud, purely for Adam’s benefit. He pointed to himself, coaching me through my answer. “Err, I’m going to spend Christmas with Adam… and his family,” I replied, frowning at Adam. I’d only added the word family after he’d mouthed it to me. Nothing about the idea appealed to me.

  “I don’t understand. Explain it to me, Charli.” Alex sounded calm but something in his tone suggested he was going to spend the rest of the day chopping wood, his favourite pastime when frustrated by his wayward child.

  “I belong with him and you know that,” I said strongly.

  “How does Boy Wonder’s girlfriend feel about that?”

  I should have known Gabrielle had been keeping him in the loop. I was purposely selective about the things I told Alex, but Gabrielle knew everything. Confiding in her was coming back to bite me, hard. It was just another reason for Alex to find fault.

  “Alex, I have to go.”

  Cutting the conversation short seemed like a good idea. I could tell that no good was going to come of it the second he referred to Adam as Boy Wonder.

  “Is he there with you now?”

  “No,” I lied.

  Adam held out his hand, motioning for me to give him the phone, but I backed away. No good could come of that, either. Alex didn’t intimidate Adam in the least, and the ten thousand miles between them would make no difference to the tension between them. I managed to end the call after promising to be careful, not to do anything stupid, and behave myself. Only then did I let my hand drop. Adam took immediate advantage, stepping forward to close the gap between us. “I take it he’s not happy?”

  “He’s concerned about me.”

  “He has no reason to worry about you. You’re in very good hands.”

  I put both hands on his face, holding his eyes in mine. “He’s always going to worry about me. I need him to do that.”

  “I know you do.” I didn’t quite believe him. “Charli, I have no problem with Alex. I’m glad he stepped back from the tree, but I know he’ll never leave the forest.”

  “What about Gabrielle? I know you have problems with Gabi. You haven’t spoken to her in months.”

  “That’s entirely my fault, not hers. Once I finally decided to pick up the pieces without you, it made sense to distance myself from Gabrielle.”

  At first it seemed like a selfish thing to do. Then I realised it was more about self-preservation. Losing Adam had pushed me to the very brink, and time hadn’t healed any of my wounds. Perhaps losing me had had the same effect on him.

  “We’ve done some serious damage along the way, Adam,” I said sadly.

  “Not to each other.” His lips lightly touched mine while his hands wandered. “We’re together and we’re fine.”

  ***

  I didn’t mention Ryan and the couches until the next morning. Adam didn’t seem concerned.

  “Don’t you feel a little bit bad about it?”

  “Not one bit,” he replied, grinning mischievously at me from across the kitchen. “Quite the contrary actually.”

  I didn’t find it funny. I thought they were both acting like the spoiled brats that they were. I sidled up to him, wrapping my arms around his middle. “Maybe you should apologise.”

  “I have a better idea,” he said. “I think we need to equip our kitchen. I’m already tired of eating cereal out of plastic bowls.”

  “We have a frying pan,” I pointed out.

  “And an awesome frying pan it is,” he said, stifling a smile. “But we can do better.”

  “How?” I was a little afraid of hearing the answer.

  “A little one-stop-shop that I know of.”

  His attempt at being cagy failed miserably. Instantly I knew he was about to burglarise his brother’s apa
rtment again.

  “Adam, no. We’ll go shopping.”

  “You hate shopping.”

  “Not enough to be your accomplice,” I grumbled.

  His hands rested heavily on my shoulders, as did the knowledge that our romance might be even shorter lived the second time around. If Adam were to raid Ryan’s apartment again, he’d be a dead man. I wanted no part of it, and refused to hear the devious plan he’d probably spent hours concocting.

  “Go to school” I ordered, pointing toward the door.

  He leaned down to kiss me. “Not yet. I still have half an hour to kill.”

  14. Social Butterflies

  Scanning the restaurant the second I walked through the door was a ritual for me. I could usually tell in an instant what sort of night I was in for.

  Tonight was going to be rough. Whitney was there. I had no idea who the girl dining with her was, but the wink Bente gave me as she bustled past led me to think they weren’t seated at an Intel table by coincidence.

  I didn’t know quite how to handle it. Whitney had no idea that the girl about to serve her table was the same one who’d carried out a near perfect snatch-and-grab manoeuvre on her boyfriend. She looked sad. Her shoulders were slumped and she looked like she needed a good night’s sleep.

  Bente handed me two menus and a few words of encouragement. “You should go over there and introduce yourself to Whitney. Extend an olive branch.” Her intentions were less than honourable. She’d have been just as content to see me walk over to Whitney and knock the stuffing out of her with said olive branch.

  “Who’s the other girl?” I asked.

  “Kinsey Ballantyne, bitch extraordinaire. Whitney’s best friend.”

  It was important not to give too much credence to Bente’s opinion. As far as she was concerned, anyone associated with Adam was spoiled and rich, and had a blown-out sense of entitlement. Except me, for obvious reasons.

  “I’m sure she’s not that bad.”

  “Yeah.” Bente gave me a push. “Keep telling yourself that.”

  I marched over to table seven, menus in hand and a smile plastered on my face. “Hi there,” I greeted cheerily.

  “About time,” muttered Kinsey, snatching a menu from me.

  I turned back to Bente. She stood with her arms folded, looking smug.

  Kinsey clicked her fingers, snapping me back to attention. “Would you like to hear the specials?” I asked, determined to play nice.

  “Can you focus long enough to recite them?”

  Nothing about Kinsey Ballantyne was intimidating, least of all the way she spoke to me. I didn’t think the rude blonde was as pretty as Whitney. Her features were hard; I put that down to the fact she was so skinny. She looked downright hungry. Maybe that’s why she was so mean.

  “Just let me know when you’re ready to order,” I suggested. I hightailed it back to Bente, finally letting go of my fake smile.

  “Pleasant, aren’t they?” she taunted.

  “I think they know who I am.” I couldn’t think of any other reason why she would have been so rude to me.

  “They’re clueless. Don’t take it personally, Charli. You’re just a lowly server.”

  “With a short attention span apparently,” I snarled.

  “Oh well, you’ve set the bar low then, haven’t you?”

  I should have left it alone, but I couldn’t. Insulting my intelligence was practically an invitation to mess with them. I made sure Whitney got exactly as she ordered, seafood penne, which she politely thanked me for. Kinsey wasn’t impressed with the massive fillet steak I dumped in her place.

  “What the hell is this?” she barked. “I ordered a romaine salad.”

  “Yes, you did.” I agreed. “But I thought you’d like this better.”

  Kinsey’s glare didn’t match her gentle tone. “You’re new here aren’t you? First day?”

  “No; first week, though.” I almost sounded proud.

  “Do you realise it’s your last?”

  I tried my hand at looking shocked and surprised by her words. “You’re going to get me fired?”

  “I could have your job in a second,” she said, clicking her fingers to strengthen her claim.

  “You don’t need to take my job. They’d probably hire you too,” I said dumbly. “We keep application forms out the back. I can get you one if you’d like.”

  Whitney reacted before Kinsey, bringing her napkin to her mouth to stifle her giggle.

  Kinsey stood up, scanning the room for someone important enough to complain to. “I know the owners,” she warned. “You’re finished here.”

  “Wow? Really?” I tried to sound perturbed. “Lucky for me, the bosses aren’t here.”

  “Bente’s here,” said Whitney, throwing me under the bus. Kinsey caught Bente’s attention by waving at her like someone hailing a cab. She sailed over and winked at me.

  “Can I help you?”

  “This girl is useless. She needs to go.”

  “I can’t make that decision, Kinsey. And neither can you. You’ll have to call Ryan.”

  Whitney groaned at the mention of Ryan’s name. Obviously the dislike was mutual.

  “No,” replied Kinsey, glancing at Whitney. “I’ll call Adam.”

  Whitney’s face lit up at the mention of his name.

  I listened to the one-sided phone conversation as Kinsey stated her case, wondering how many times she’d done it before – and how many times the princes had accommodated her demands.

  Finally, she handed the phone to me, sneering.

  “Hello,” I said, in a deliberately shaky voice.

  “Firing you would definitely be to my advantage, Charlotte.” I could hear the innuendo in his voice, and his low tone was as sexy as hell.

  I stared straight at Kinsey as I spoke. “No, please don’t fire me,” I begged, much to her delight. I held the phone closer to my ear, not wanting Kinsey or Whitney to hear the very descriptive ways he came up with to kill the rest of the evening if he were to fire me. “I’ll keep it in mind,” I said, before ending the call and handing the phone back.

  “I told you,” said Kinsey victoriously. “Hit the road.”

  I leaned down a little closer to her and spoke quietly, trying my hand at being a menace. “I’m not going anywhere. I guess you don’t have as much pull as you thought you did. Eat your steak, love. You look like you could do with the calories.” I walked away leaving Bente to deal with the aftermath.

  Then things turned bad.

  I’d been so caught up torturing Kinsey that I hadn’t noticed Ryan walk in. He stood by the podium at the door, flicking through the reservations book. He glanced up briefly as I approached. “Charli,” he purred ominously.

  I cut straight to the chase. “Look, I’ve had a really sucky night so far so if you’re planning to haul me over to coals, do it now, please.”

  “Why would I do that?” he asked, still studying the reservation book.

  I might have jumped the gun. Perhaps he hadn’t yet discovered that his apartment had been looted again. And it had been. I was home when Colin the delivery guy dropped off six boxes. I’d left it for Adam to unpack when he got home, certain I’d be struck by lightning or hit by a bus if I dared touch it.

  Keeping quiet was only delaying the inevitable so I told him all about his brother’s crime spree.

  “I know.”

  “And you’re not upset?”

  “No. He did me a favour actually. Out with the old and in with the new.” He glanced over at Whitney’s table. “Adam can relate to that concept, I’m sure.”

  “That was below the belt.”

  “You’re right. I apologise,” he said, not very sincerely. “What I meant to say was that I used it as an opportunity to redecorate.”

  “I thought you said you didn’t have the time.”

  “I don’t, which is why I employed the services of a designer – and she’s working out beautifully.”

  I knew there was more to
it. His whole demeanour had taken on the dark edge he adopted whenever he was being an ass.

  “Is she working on you or the apartment?”

  He leaned down to whisper. “Her name is Yolanda. She’s blonde and gorgeous and we’re meeting up later for a drink – to discuss my design options, of course.”

  “Of course, design options,” I repeated, making no secret of my disgust. “So Adam gets a reprieve because you’ve somehow managed to twist it to your advantage?”

  His wry smile left me with no doubts. No matter how hard Adam tried to be devious and underhanded, he was never going to match his older brother.

  “Would you rather I hold a grudge and destroy him slowly?”

  “No. I wouldn’t.”

  “Good, because he doesn’t need the extra pressure. He warned me not to introduce you to dim Whit if your paths crossed. How’s that working out for you, Charli?”

  I cocked one eyebrow. “She’s still sitting there, isn’t she? Perfectly unharmed.”

  He looked past me. “Kinsey looks a little distressed.”

  “Kinsey tried throwing her weight around. I guess she forgot that’s only about eighty pounds.”

  Ryan chuckled blackly. “Don’t get too cocky. She’s not your only competitor this evening.” He flipped a few pages of the reservation book and held it up to me.

  “Décarie.” He tapped his finger on the page. “Table for two at eight o’clock.”

  My eyes widened in horror. “Your parents?”

  “What’s it going to be, Charli?” he quizzed. “Fight or flight?”

  I didn’t even need time to think about it. “Fight, Ryan. It’s what I’ve been doing since I got here.”

  Bente couldn’t understand my nervousness. “You have to meet his parents some time,” she enthused. “They’re decent people. They’ve always been very nice to me.”

  “How nice do you think they’d be if you were seeing one of their princes?”

  “Good point,” she admitted, looking to the floor.

  “I’m screwed.”

  Bente leaned forward and patted my shoulder. “Well, it was nice knowing you, Charli.”

  Clearly she wasn’t going to be much in the way of moral support. Nor was Ryan. He left early to meet up with Yolanda, his new plaything. Thankfully, Kinsey and Whitney left too. Introducing myself to Adam’s parents while they were still there would have blown my charade to pieces – not that I expected to escape the evening unscathed.