Storm Shells (The Wishes Series #3)

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Storm Shells (The Wishes Series #3) Page 13

by G. J. Walker-Smith


  I spent the morning at the beach. I didn’t want to be anywhere near the cottage when Adam turned up. I knew his flight was at one. When I was sure he’d be well on the way to Hobart, I went home.

  Alex turned up at my door soon after, armed with a chocolate cake that I prayed he hadn’t cooked himself.

  “How are you feeling?” he asked.

  I was between a rock and a hard place. I had no idea how much Adam had told him, if anything. I wasn’t sure how to answer him.

  “Okay.”

  He set the cake down on the table before turning back to face me. “So are we going to talk or are we going to pointlessly dance around the subject, then talk?”

  I couldn’t find the words to speak.

  “You might as well tell me, Charli,” he urged. “I already got the story from Adam.”

  My heart began thumping at an alarming rate. “What did he tell you?”

  “Everything.” He threw out his arms. “Sang like a bird.”

  Something was off. If Adam had told him everything, my father would’ve been bouncing off the walls – either furious with me or hopelessly concerned. I wasn’t getting either vibe from him.

  “He told you about the baby?” It was the scariest question I’d ever asked him.

  “Yes – and that you’d had a termination.”

  I winced as he said it. It was such a horrid word. Alex turned away and began pacing the room, probably trying to escape the awful conversation.

  “What was your first thought when you found out, Charli?” he asked.

  I didn’t hesitate. “I wanted to have it.”

  Alex stood on the other side of the room with his arms tightly folded. I had no idea what he was thinking. It made plotting my next move impossible.

  “I’ve only ever known you to go with the first thought, Charlotte.” He’d used my full name. That wasn’t good. “A girl who chances her entire existence to fate isn’t going to terminate a baby. She’s going to go with the first thought.”

  “She is,” I confessed in a tiny voice. “It’s a one-shot deal.”

  “That’s what I thought,” he said smugly.

  “I couldn’t end it.”

  “That’s okay. It’s your choice.”

  I growled in total frustration. “Why can’t he just be who I need him to be, Alex?”

  The look he gave was one of sheer pity. “He just might not be that guy, Charli.”

  “He is that guy,” I insisted. “But I can’t wait around for him to grow up and catch up.”

  I’d never felt as if I had a choice when it came to loving Adam. I did, however, have a choice on how it played out.

  Alex walked over and kissed my forehead before whispering his next sentence. “It had to happen sooner or later, Charli. You’ve finally found something that you want more than him. Good for you.”

  He turned around and began walking toward the door. “Enjoy your cake. It should be edible. Gabrielle made it.”

  “That’s it?” I asked. “Where are you going?”

  “Have you seen the water today? It’s magnificent.”

  I chased him onto the veranda. “You’ve just found out that I’m going to make you a grandad at thirty-seven, Alex. Thirty-freaking-seven! Don’t you want to yell at me for a while?”

  He didn’t turn back and he didn’t reply. I had no idea what to make of it but I didn’t ponder it for long. I grabbed my gear and followed him to the beach.

  * * *

  No amount of sleep seemed to be enough to get me through the day lately. At least I now knew why. By the time I paddled out to Alex I was ready to lay my head on my board and go to sleep.

  “I’m so tired,” I groaned, dropping my head.

  “You should have stayed home with your cake then,” he teased.

  I dragged my arm through the water, splashing him. “I want to talk to you.”

  He spread his arms wide. “Step into my office.”

  I took a long look around, soaking up my surroundings. The ocean in Pipers Cove wasn’t the bluest of blue. It was navy and dark, which was a perfect match for the craggy backdrop of the cliffs. The sand was bright white, painting a neat stripe between the rocks and the water. I’d spent most of my life dreaming of escape. Ironically, now I just wanted to bunker down and stay.

  “I’m so glad to be home,” I told him. “This is where I’m supposed to be.”

  “It all comes down to how you like your chickens,” he replied.

  I turned in time to see a hint of a smile ghost across his face.

  “Chickens?”

  “Kids are just like chickens, Charli. You can raise them free-range or in cages. I prefer mine free-range.”

  “Alex, all this salt water is muddling your brain.”

  “You muddle my brain,” he corrected, flicking water at me.

  “Are you upset with me?” I asked.

  “I think you’ve chosen a tough road. It’s not what I wanted for you,” he replied. “I’m worried about you.”

  I could accept that. I was worried about me too.

  “Did you give Adam a hard time?”

  Alex hadn’t shown me a hint of anger at the news. It made me worry that Adam had borne the brunt of it.

  “Boy Wonder was honest with me. I appreciated that,” he told me. “I don’t always get honesty from you.”

  I dragged my arms through the water, keeping my board close to his. “I’ve jumped out of a tall tree this time, Alex,” I muttered.

  He smiled, though it had a rueful tinge. “I’m at the bottom, Charli. You’ll be fine.”

  He’d just made paddling a hundred metres off shore totally worth it. It was exactly what I needed to hear.

  “Can we please just keep this to ourselves for a while?”

  He grimaced as if I’d asked him to do something illegal. “Adam needs to know, Charli. Sooner rather than later.”

  “I’m going to tell him.”

  “Yes you are,” he replied. “I’m going to make sure of it. Keeping his child from him isn’t going to be the big get-even for being a jerk, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “I’ll give you a bit of time, but Gabs isn’t going to be very sympathetic. She won’t keep quiet for you.”

  I wasn’t stupid enough to think I could keep the baby a secret forever. Gabrielle and Adam were cousins. It might make their family reunions a little awkward. “I’ll figure it out,” I muttered. “How do you think she’ll cope with the news?”

  “I really don’t know,” he said softly. “You know how desperately she wants a baby of her own.”

  “I think the universe screwed up, Alex. They sent the baby to the wrong address.”

  My father smiled. “The universe doesn’t make clerical errors, Charli. Everything is exactly how it’s supposed to be.”

  January 9

  Adam

  I’d arrived back in New York two days earlier than scheduled. I’d neglected to warn Ryan. That made finding a mystery blonde wandering around the apartment inevitable.

  “Hello.” I greeted, pulling my luggage through the door.

  “Hi there,” she replied, tilting her head to the side.

  “Where’s my brother?”

  “I’m not sure.” She sounded confused. “Who’s your brother?”

  I frowned. “Ryan. The guy who lives here.”

  “Oh.” She snorted out a loud giggle. “He’s in the shower.”

  “Alone?” I felt it important to ask. It was Ryan we were talking about.

  She nodded and I walked out of the room, leaving her taking up space and oxygen on my couch.

  I didn’t knock on the bathroom door. I just barged in. Ryan didn’t flinch at the intrusion. It was probably something he dealt with often.

  “You’re back,” he exclaimed, clearing a patch on the glass.

  “Yeah. Who’s in the lounge?”

  “Candice. She’s a graphic artist.”

  “I’m sure Candice is very graphic. Send her ho
me.”

  He turned off the water. “In fairness Adam, I didn’t know you were coming home. If you’d called ahead, graphic Candice wouldn’t be here.” I felt my shoulders slump. I had no reason to be giving him attitude. Ryan looked at me for a long moment. “How was the trip?”

  “Eventful.”

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “Not really.”

  “You don’t look good.”

  “I’m fine,” I said wearily. “I’m going to bed. Just get rid of Candice, okay?”

  * * *

  I didn’t surface until late the next morning. Candice was gone. Ryan was not. He was standing at the counter, thumbing through a newspaper.

  “Aren’t you working today?” I asked.

  He folded the newspaper and thumped it down on the counter. “Later. I wanted to see how you were first.”

  I’d never known Ryan to be concerned. I must have really looked bad the night before.

  “I’m okay.”

  “How’s Charli?”

  I poured myself a cup of coffee, immediately noticing that he’d brewed the one I like, as opposed to the mud he prefers. I’d never known him to be considerate either.

  “Charli’s fine. I’m fine. We’re both fine. We’re just going to be fine separately from now on.”

  Ryan wasn’t buying my indifference, which was unfortunate because I wasn’t sure I’d live through explaining it to him.

  “Tell me what happened,” he demanded.

  I stared at him, still stirring my coffee. “It started great. I went surfing with her father, who hates me. He nearly drowned me. He started to warm to me a little after that. We mended our differences and played golf. I fell in love with my wife for the hundredth time after she showed me fairies. Then a crazy old woman read a pile of sand and predicted that Charli was pregnant. It was all downhill from there.”

  Ryan remained stone-faced but his eyes were wide. “You knocked her up?”

  That was all he’d managed to pull from my rant.

  “Momentarily,” I replied bitterly. “We ended it.”

  He looked away from me. “Oh. I’m sorry.”

  I set the mug down, shaking my head. I didn’t know what to say. I wasn’t sorry. I was relieved. I’d also never hated myself more in my life. I didn’t quite know what to make of it.

  “So what happens now?” he asked.

  “Charlotte’s done with me.” I sounded totally disconnected from the drama. “I’m going to file for divorce and leave her alone.”

  “Are you sure that’s what you want?”

  I’d put a lot of thought into it on the long trip home. Charli had made herself perfectly clear. She wanted me to let her go. A divorce definitely constituted letting her go.

  “I just want her to be happy, Ryan. I can’t do that. I just keep screwing things up.”

  “C’est la vie, huh?”

  “Yeah,” I muttered. “Something like that.”

  February 3

  Charli

  I’d done a lot of ducking and weaving over the past few weeks. The Beautifuls were trying hard to recruit me. Jasmine had turned up at my door more than once, extending the manicured hand of friendship.

  “We’re here for you, Charli,” she told me. “We know you’re down on your luck since Adam dumped you.”

  Adam’s desertion had been a whispered topic around town since the day he left. Thankfully, his arrest hadn’t made the headlines. I was glad Flynn had shown some discretion. Ordinarily, the gossip would’ve destroyed me, but my mind was on keeping much bigger news a secret. I was fourteen weeks pregnant, and apart from Alex – and possibly Crazy Edna – not a soul knew.

  Nicole Lawson was also on the list of people I avoided. Every time I went to the café, she’d bail me up to apologise for being a thieving snake. It hadn’t meant anything to me the first time I heard it. A hundred apologies later, it meant even less.

  Alex was unhappy with my decision to keep punishing her. Every time I’d cut her down for trying to make amends, he’d corner me later and chastise me for it. “You could do with a friend right now.”

  No one needed a friend like Nicole, least of all me.

  Flynn Davis was the last member of my duck and weave list – and the hardest to avoid. I saw him every single day. Sometimes it would be as subtle as a wave across the fence and others it was a full-blown ambush. Once Adam left, he made no secret of the fact that he had designs on me – something I’d suspected since Christmas. Usually I only had to decline dinner invitations. Today’s suggestion was a little more bizarre. He turned up at my door to invite me out for a sail on his grandad’s boat.

  “La Coccinelle?” I asked in disbelief.

  “Yes. She’s beautiful when she’s in full sail.”

  “Flynn, my husband restored that boat,” I reminded. “Don’t you find that weird?”

  “I can overlook it.” He shrugged. “It’s not like you’re together.”

  There was no point denying it. He’d witnessed our spectacular crash and burn first hand.

  “Look, I’m not trying to hurt your feelings, Flynn, but you’re just not getting it,” I said gently. “I’m not interested.”

  Flynn was like a skittish, enthusiastic puppy. Just in case he wasn’t house trained, I never let him into the cottage.

  “Charli, some things take time,” he said smiling. “I’ll wait.”

  Getting rid of him was easy as shutting the door. “Bye Flynn.”

  Most people would’ve been appalled by my rudeness. Not Flynn Davis. “Bye, Charli. See you later,” he called through the closed door.

  I peeked through the curtain at him as he strolled back to his house, promising myself that there would be no more letting him down gently. The next time he cracked on to me, I vowed to drop him from a great height.

  February 4

  Adam

  I held off consulting a lawyer for nearly a month. If there was even a slight chance that Charli was having second thoughts, I would’ve called the whole thing off. The problem I faced was that she never had second thoughts. I tried my luck by calling her anyway. I stood on the steps outside my father’s office, braving the icy February weather and an icier Charli.

  “Hello?” she answered groggily.

  I’d woken her. I checked my watch and worked out the time difference – something I should’ve done before calling.

  “Hey, it’s me,” I replied sheepishly.

  “Adam, it’s the middle of the night.”

  “I know. I’m sorry.”

  “You shouldn’t be calling me.” Her voice was colder than the air temperature. It made me turn the collar up on my coat.

  “Please, just listen for a second,” I pleaded. “Remember the story you told me about the Adelie penguins?”

  “Of course,” she said quietly.

  “Well, I want to know something. What if the male penguin was a dick?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “What if he didn’t know how to forage for rocks? Let’s say he was absolutely clueless,” I elaborated. “Would the female give him time to learn or would she kick him straight to the iceberg curb?”

  There was silence for a long time. I busied myself by kicking at a spot of gum on the pavement. Finally she spoke.

  “She wouldn’t have a nest, Adam,” she replied. “She uses the rocks he gives her to make a nest. She needs them. If he can’t give her what she needs, she has nothing. Why would she wait for him if he can’t give her what she needs?”

  “She wouldn’t,” I replied, defeated. “He’d have to let her go. I get it. Charlotte, I’m sorry I woke you up.”

  I quickly ended the call; mainly to stop myself from telling her I loved her. I didn’t think she’d appreciate hearing it.

  * * *

  Ryan had offered to come with me to my father’s office. Moral support wasn’t his motive. He was more interested in hearing the details of the divorce settlement.

  “You should retain Bill
et-doux,” he’d told me. “Then I don’t have to deal with Tinker Bell either.”

  He made it too easy for me. “I’m thinking of giving her Nellie’s too,” I replied.

  At that point he demanded he be at the meeting. I didn’t care either way. I just wanted it over and done with. He was sitting in the reception area when I stepped out of the elevator.

  My father’s PA, whose name I couldn’t remember, sauntered toward us. Ryan straightened in his chair. “Tenille, sweetheart. How are you?”

  Tenille. Her name was Tenille.

  “Fine, Ryan.” She was having trouble looking at him – probably because her eyelashes were longer than her skirt. “Mr Décarie should be free shortly. Would you like coffee while you wait?”

  “No thank you, sweetheart,” he replied, granting her a sordid smile.

  I waited until she was out of earshot before speaking. “You slept with her didn’t you?” I muttered from the corner of my mouth.

  “Twice,” he confirmed, unrepentant.

  I didn’t get a chance to call him out on his whorish ways. Tenille announced that the king was ready to see us.

  * * *

  Our father barely glanced at us as we walked in. “Hi boys, take a seat.”

  We did as we were told. My father pushed a stack of papers across his desk at me.

  “Adam, I’ve put together a file for you. Someone from this office will call you in a day or two to sort out the details,” he said, getting straight down to it. “I expect that it will be fairly cut and dried. I want it sewn up quickly.”

  “So do I. Why did you put a file together?” I was annoyed. I was perfectly capable of working out the details.

  My dad locked eyes with me. “There’s no prenuptial agreement. You’ve paved the way for a glut of problems in the future. I want it dealt with properly.”

  I was shaking my head before he’d even finished speaking. The notion that Charli would ever make a grab for my family’s money was ludicrous.

 

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