“Doesn’t seem like you’re with someone now, does it?” She turned to see her would-be suitor from outside the bathrooms. “You owe me a little sugar, Sugar.” He laughed at his own joke as he advanced toward her. Charlotte glanced over his shoulder to see where the club bouncers were, but they were busy dragging some poor sod out the door and throwing him into the street. Their attention would be drawn to him for a while—they’d be no help to her, now that she was so far away.
“There’s zero chance of that. Please go away,” she said pleasantly, hoping to reason with him as she stepped backward.
“Nuh uh. We have a little business to conclude, first.” He grabbed her arm and pushed her hand against his groin as she felt a flush cover her face. “Come on. You can touch it—it won’t bite.” He laughed again as she struggled to pull her hand away.
Anger sparked through her body and Charlotte had a sudden flashback to Richard James and the sleazy way he’d treated her in his office a few weeks ago. She was too far from the door of the club, and was still backing away, and she knew she’d have to save herself from this man, because no one was coming to help.
Not giving him a chance to get ready, she jumped forward to catch the man off guard and kneed him as hard as she could in the groin. Her aim was off and she only half-connected, making him bend over with a loud grunt, but not putting him totally out of action. Before she could run past him, he lunged for her and grabbed her wrist, wrenching painfully as she screamed her anger at him.
“Get the fuck away from her,” another familiar voice said, as Jack surged forward and dragged the man away. He rushed to Charlotte and ran his hands over her, satisfying himself that she was unhurt. “Are you okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine.”
“Who the fuck are you, man?”
“It doesn’t matter who I am. Get the hell away, or I’ll call the police.”
“Yeah, I don’t think so. How about you give me your wallet?”
Jack turned around and pushed Charlotte behind him as her attacker returned, joined by another man. They heard a flicking sound, and the second man held up a knife. “Your wallet,” he held out his hand, as though this was a normal transaction for him.
“Jack, you didn’t bring your wallet—you’ll have to give him mine. Give him something!” Charlotte whispered loudly enough for the men to hear her.
“We’ll take whichever one has the cash.” He continued to hold out his hand as she pulled her bag around to the front.
“Here, take it.” She held it out to the side as Jack urged her to hold onto it. “It’s only money, Jack. A thousand US dollars is everything we have, but we can get my mum to wire us some.” As the lies left her lips, she threw her handbag to the left as far as she could, and both men took off running to retrieve it.
She grabbed Jack’s hand, and ran in the other direction, pulling him along with her. He caught on quickly and was soon running as fast as he could, clutching tightly to her hand. They emerged into a street lined with cafés, where they finally felt safe enough to stop.
“Where the hell are your shoes?”
“I took them off while I was getting ready to throw my bag.”
“How did you know they’d go for your bag?”
“I made it sound like I had all the money, didn’t I? They were only after money.”
“They were after a lot more than that.” He pulled her close and enveloped her in a tight hug. “I thought he’d hurt you.” Jack whispered huskily into her ear. “I was freaking out when I couldn’t find you in the club.”
As they hugged in the street, another crowd formed around them, and soon Jack was being asked for autographs and photos again as cameras flashed behind them. Charlotte took charge before he could tell everyone to sod off. “Okay, line up everyone. We don’t have too long, tonight, but Jack would love to meet each of you.”
When they finally got home, Charlotte showered and changed into her pyjamas. Jack was already in bed, reading a book, when she finally turned off her lamp and slipped between the sheets. Without saying a word, she slid to his side of the bed. He glanced at her face and she saw his soften as he lifted his arm to wrap it around her shoulders. She relaxed into him, put her head on his shoulder, and closed her eyes.
Before he’d turned off his light, she was fast asleep.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“I can’t believe you want to go out again.”
“Come on, Jack. Yesterday was a freak event. It wasn’t because you’re famous—no one was targeting you. It’s just something that occasionally happens when people are out and about. We could easily have been an old, married couple from Florida and the outcome would have been the same.” She smiled and tried to catch his eye as he paced back and forth in front of the window.
“Yeah, but the old, married couple wouldn’t have fronted up two hundred dollars and their cell phone, like you did.”
“True. I like to look at it this way, though: they probably needed it more than I did.”
Jack stopped and stared at her. With his hands on his hips, his back to the window, and the sunlight streaming in, he really did look like a rock god. “Are you serious? We get robbed at knifepoint in a dark alleyway, hand over hundreds of dollars, and you try to see their side?” She nodded slowly. “Were you raised by Mother Theresa?”
Charlotte laughed out loud and shook her head. “I wasn’t. You’ll meet my mum and you’ll understand that she’s a realist—that’s all. I guess I got that from her. Besides, how much money did I save by telling them you had no wallet? How much cash were you carrying?”
He bit his lip and looked, for a moment, like he might not tell her the truth. “If you consider not losing it a saving, then you did save us a lot. I had over fifteen hundred dollars.”
“Ha! See? So, we buy me a new phone and we’re still ahead.” Charlotte picked up the cheap handbag she’d bought in the shop across the road from the hotel. “Now, come on, it’s our last day. I have big plans for you to walk your butt off until lunchtime before we come back to pack.”
He grumbled as he walked to the door, “We need to come to Paris again. Now that you’ve seen all the sights, maybe you’ll let me sit by the pool, next time.”
“Come on, old man. Stop whining.” She pushed him through the open door and they set off for the elevators.
“I didn’t even get to buy you a new bikini.”
***
The flight home was uneventful, and they arrived in Vegas to find Mr. Phillips waiting for them at the airport. He drove them home with the divider firmly up in the limousine as Charlotte napped on Jack’s shoulder. When they pulled into the driveway, Jack woke her and pulled her into the house, as she protested that she could carry her own case.
Mrs. Jones opened the door for them and did her usual trick of avoiding eye contact, although Charlotte swore she looked like she might smile at any moment. “Hello, Mrs. Jones,” she said, making a point to look at her on the way past, and the housekeeper offered her an easy smile in return.
“Hello, Mrs. Jones,” Jack said, surprising them both. Charlotte swallowed a giggle as she watched the woman’s eyes bulge at his words. “How was your break?” Jack had given her the week off at Charlotte’s urging, since they were away.
She stammered as she struggled to find a reply for him. “Uh… um… it was very nice, thank you, sir. My husband and I had a mid-week vacation while my sister watched our children. Thank you again, sir. It was very generous of you.”
Charlotte smirked as she walked up the hall to their room.
I’ll make my mark on this household, yet.
She went straight to their bedroom without even bothering to get a late night snack from the fridge; they’d had a big afternoon and a night of travel, and she was exhausted. To her surprise, Jack entered the room right after her and kicked off his shoes. He’d slept on the plane and she thought he’d be awake for a while. “Are you going to bed?”
“I am, if you are.”
“Oh
.” She didn’t know what to say. “Okay, then.” She entered the robe and quickly changed into one of his shirts, which had become her habit, now. He was already in bed by the time she moved to her side and pulled the covers out of the way. The king-sized bed seemed huge, compared to the queen they’d shared all week. She slipped in and lay on her back, unsure of what he expected, now that they were home.
He cleared his throat with an obvious “ah-hem,” and she glanced at him to find that he had stretched out his arm in her direction. Jack was glancing from her, to his elbow, and back. She smiled at him as she got the message and scooted to his side of the bed. He wrapped his arm around her and put his head on her hair. Within minutes, they were both asleep.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Jack’s phone ringing woke them both the next morning. He answered it with his arm still around her.
“Jack? Are you home yet?”
“Yes, Reid,” Jack sighed, “We got home late last night.”
“Awesome. Well, set that hot piece of ass aside that you’ve been banging all week and come rehearse with us today.” He spoke so loudly that Charlotte could hear the whole conversation. “We’ve booked a studio and we need to get some shit down. The tour is only six weeks away, dude. Cindy wants to meet with us and go through some promo stuff, too. There are a few things she needs.”
Charlotte pulled away from him as he continued his conversation. She didn’t want to hear what Cindy might be doing, or what Cindy might need. She’d almost ruined his proposal in Paris, and Charlotte would have been pissed if he’d decided not to do it. It was a nice gesture, and she adored the ring he’d chosen for her. She stepped into the shower, so she didn’t have to hear Reid’s loud voice. When she emerged, Jack was already in the lounge room, scowling over the internet.
Just like old times.
“Okay, out with it. What have you found?”
“Reid told me to check. Those bloody vultures have documented our every move. They even got pictures of my proposal to you!” He seemed outraged that a place he’d thought was private in the gardens had turned out to be anything but.
“Why are you so angry? What difference does it make? Didn’t you have a nice, relaxed week not knowing any of that?”
“I did, Char, you know I did, but Jesus, we’re everywhere.”
Charlotte sat and unwrapped the new iPhone Jack had bought her in the duty free at the airport last night. She inserted the SIM card and activated it online. After plugging it in to charge, she went to him and massaged his shoulders, peering over him at the websites he was scrolling through.
She thought about when she’d done this just a week ago, when he was so furious with her. So much had changed between them in just a week. She didn’t care who had pictures of what; she was thrilled that their holiday had been so fabulous. They were going to be able to keep up their charade a lot better, now that they were more relaxed with each other.
“I love those pictures.”
“Are you kidding?”
“Not at all. Not many people get photos of their own wedding proposal. I love whoever took those—look at how many shots they got. They even got photos of me losing my mind and kissing you,” she laughed as he scrolled through picture after picture. She marvelled at how happy and carefree they looked, especially Jack. It was almost like he wasn’t acting at being in love.
“Well, how about these ones?” He clicked on a new site with shots of them in the café, obviously taken by the group of girls she’d called over. Photos of them eating ice cream outside the Louvre, as well as audience photos from the Moulin Rouge had also been shared. They were grainy, but the photos showed her watching the show, while Jack watched her. It was an intimate shot and she wasn’t surprised when he quickly clicked away.
The last page he clicked on had photographs of them lining up to buy their tickets for the Eiffel Tower, followed closely by photos of them lying on a blanket by the fountain, watching the lights come on. Her eyes scanned down the article and she leaned in to point the text out to him.
“Look: it says what a nice change it is to see you out and about, looking happy and relaxed. We’re obviously in love, according to this genius, and you’ve never looked so happy.” Charlotte smirked behind him as she kept pushing her thumbs into his shoulders. “God, I was a good girlfriend. Imagine how great I’ll be as a wife.”
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
“Oh, I am. More than you know.” She suddenly reached forward and closed the laptop with a snap, and he pulled his fingers away from the keyboard just in time to stop them from being crushed. “No more of this obsessive reading about yourself, Jack. I always thought the stars said they don’t read anything about themselves? It’s time you made that your new mantra.” She moved around to the front, took a seat beside him, and grabbed his hand as she continued explaining her reasoning. “What would have happened if you had seen those Eiffel Tower photos the day after?”
“What do you mean?”
“Would you have proposed to me at Versailles?”
“I don’t know.”
“That’s an honest answer, at least. Would you have wandered the halls of the Louvre, holding my hand like you did? Would you have danced and grinded all over me for an hour in the club? Would we have laughed at the Mona Lisa, and stuffed our faces with pastries on the street, if you’d been keeping tabs every morning?”
“Probably not.”
“Right. So, my point has been proven. Worrying about what everyone thinks all the time changes how you live. You might be famous, but you cannot fucking live that way anymore.”
“You know, you hardly swore the whole week we were away. Were you trying extra hard?”
“Nope. I didn’t think about it for a second. Maybe because you weren’t being an asshole to me all week, I didn’t feel the need to voice my opinion so forcefully.”
“Maybe not. Interesting.”
They stared at each other and a smile played around Jack’s mouth. Before he could tell her what he was thinking, his phone vibrated on the table beside them. Freddy Caspian’s name popped up and Charlotte rolled her eyes and left the table.
“Yes, Freddy?” He laid the phone on the table and pressed the speaker button, so Charlotte could hear.
“Jack, my boy. What a stroke of genius that vacation was. You’ll have to thank Charlotte for insisting on it. Album sales are up twenty percent in France, and your first single is back in the top one hundred.” He crowed, like Christmas had come early.
“Really? Why?”
“Why? Why?” Freddy’s voice rose. “Because the world had an entire week of watching the Jack and Charlotte love show. You were on the news here two separate nights, once word got out of that engagement. We need to put out a press release, by the way. Anyway, stroke of genius, my man. I hear you made the news in Australia, too. I’ve even had an enquiry from that venue in Germany, who couldn’t fit us into the upcoming tour schedule. They’re prepared to make some adjustments to get it to work.”
Jack looked perplexed, and Charlotte gave him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder as she moved to check if her phone had charged enough. She needed to restore her data, so she could get all her contacts on her new phone. Before doing that, though, she sent her new number to both Jay and Jack’s mobiles. His bleeped, while he was talking to Freddy.
She turned as he hung up and he stared at her with wide eyes. “I should have gotten married years ago!” he exclaimed, jumping up and grabbing her around the waist. Jack swung her off her feet and she laughed as she held on. “This was the best idea ever. Remind me to send a present to the agents.” He put her down and headed to their room to get dressed. Charlotte sighed and sat alone at the table, fiddling with her phone as Mrs. Jones entered the room.
“Wouldn’t have helped him to get married years ago,” she remarked as she dusted the sideboard and collected the dirty coffee cup Jack had left. Charlotte looked at her, waiting for her to elaborate on her cryptic comment. She didn�
�t disappoint as she left in the direction of the kitchen and said under her breath, “No one but Charlotte Shipton could have made that magic happen.”
***
Charlotte arranged to meet Jack at the recording studio at four that afternoon. She’d watch the last hour of their rehearsal and then he would take her out for dinner to celebrate. She was excited to get her second taste of the Strip. She’d insisted that she wouldn’t go with Mr. Stepford, as she continued to call Mr. Phillips, because he refused to break with the rules and freely converse with her. Jack had left her the Mustang with strict instructions to call if she found it too hard to drive on the opposite side of the road. As she fired up the car after a day of poring over her script, she worried that she wouldn’t be able to master driving on the wrong side of the road, as she couldn’t help but call it.
The drive was easier than she expected, though, and she pulled into the carpark just after half past three. Jack had organised to leave a parking spot free for the Mustang. For once, she was grateful he could do that small thing for her. Charlotte pushed through the double doors and the receptionist pointed her to studio three, where the boys were recording. She didn’t know whether to knock, but she’d understood that they were rehearsing and not recording, so she went right in.
The sight that greeted her had her rooted to the spot, unable to believe her eyes. Richie and Keith were sitting in the corner, smoking something that looked suspiciously like an illegal drug. Charlotte had no experience with drugs, but whatever they were doing did not look like an activity she wanted to become familiar with. Fergus was shouting into his mobile phone at someone that they should sell his share portfolio, and he was naked from the waist down.
Reid and Jack—her future husband, Jack—were sitting on the couch, while Cindy waved her bare ass in their faces and begged them to take a turn. Reid was laughing it up, having a great old time and encouraging her to take her top off as she bent over and showed them all she had. Jack was fiddling with his mobile phone while glancing up every so often at Cindy and her apparent charms. In the few seconds it took for the room to become aware that Charlotte had entered, she’d seen more than enough to know she should not have arrived early. Indeed, judging by what was going on, her presence hadn’t been expected.
Contracted For Love: Famous Love Series Page 11