by Ally Decker
They danced their first dance alone on the sand, to the tune of As Long As You're Mine from Wicked, with everyone watching as the staff handed out the champagne flutes.
Kevin appeared at Charlie's side and handed him a flute before one of the waiters could get to him.
"Thanks," Charlie mouthed at him, then leaned with his back against Kevin's chest. All of it, the romantic atmosphere, the happy couple, the music, and finally, Kevin's closeness, made his heart pound against his ribs when he felt Kevin's arm sneak around his waist.
"Ready for your best man toast?" Kevin whispered next to his ear, and Charlie chuckled. So much for the romantic vibe.
"Shh, let me live in denial for the next few minutes."
He didn't have to worry, though. The toast went well, and people laughed in all the right places, especially at the story about how one of the very first things Greg had learned about Sylvia had been how big of a fan she was…of Charlie's work.
"Thanks for bringing this up," Greg spoke up with a shake of his head and a resigned smile as Sylvia laughed into his shoulder.
"Oh, it's my pleasure, believe me." Charlie grinned at him. "But on a serious note," he addressed the guests again, "the love story of these two has proved to me, time and time again, that fairy tales can indeed happen in real life. And that while happily ever after is something that needs continuous work and commitment, it's also completely worth it. Most importantly, it's possible. So, thank you for that gift of hope." He raised his flute towards Sylvia and Greg. "I look forward to many, many years of you two reminding us all of that, again and again."
Everyone toasted the happy couple, and then Charlie got to relax as he leaned against Kevin's side and listened to the maid of honor giving her toast. Afterward, Sylvia came up to pull him into a hug and sniff against his shoulder.
"You almost made me cry, you asshole."
He hugged her back. "You say the sweetest things."
He got another big hug from Greg, and then Kevin offered Charlie his arm, tilting his head towards the beach. The guests were slowly moving there, and a few couples were already dancing on the sand. Even the Hollywoods, as Kevin nicknamed them, were taking off their shoes and leaving them on the side. Charlie noticed Tara already dancing with Jeremy Nelson, Greg's co-star from Collectibles franchise, and smiled to himself. You go, girl.
When he and Kevin got onto the beach, and Kevin pulled him into his arms, Charlie forgot about other guests, though. He rested his forehead on Kevin's shoulder and let himself got lost in the moment—in the feeling of Kevin all around him, in the scent of his cologne that was new for Charlie but instantly addictive, in the music, in the sun warming him just enough…
He hadn't lied during his speech—Sylvia and Greg's love story had helped restore his faith in the happily ever afters. But this, here, now, felt like a beginning of his own fairy tale. It was still delicate and new, but Charlie believed it would turn out just fine.
When the first song turned to the next, he lifted his head and looked at Kevin, who gave him an amused sort of smile.
"So, this is all very nice and all, but I hope you don't expect suits and ties on every date."
Charlie bit his lower lip to stop himself from laughing. "I don't," he assured him. "I don't expect barefoot dancing on the beach, either."
"That's a relief." Kevin nodded, then tilted his head, pretending he was thinking hard. "So, how about for our second date, we just order pizza and hang out in front of TV?"
Charlie did laugh at that. Oh yeah, they were going to be more than fine.
EPILOGUE
Six months later
Kevin strolled down the familiar alley and smiled when he saw the remains of the usual crowd, now slowly dispersing from the stage door of the theatre.
"Hey, man." Ray, one of Charlie's co-stars, walked up to Kevin before pointing his thumb at the building. "He went back inside to wait for you, he was getting loopy from the meds."
Damn it, Charlie. "Thanks, I will keep an eye on him."
"Good luck!" Ray offered with a wave as a goodbye, and Kevin raised the travel mug he was holding, one meant for his unruly boyfriend.
He nodded to a few more people from the cast and even one or two women who were regulars at the stage door nights and recognized him by now from seeing him with Charlie. It had felt a bit weird at first, getting recognized by people he hadn't known only because of who his boyfriend was, but Kevin had gotten used to it.
What he refused to get used to was seeing his boyfriend laid out on the small couch in his dressing room, with a damp towel on his forehead.
He didn't ask how bad it was, since Charlie would try to downplay it, and it wasn't like Kevin couldn't tell when his boyfriend had a fever. Especially since said boyfriend had had that fever for two days now, but still insisted he needed to come to work.
Kevin moved to crouch next to him, and ran a hand through Kevin slightly damp hair. "Hey, can you sit up for me? I brought you that tea Alicia recommended."
Charlie pulled himself up to rest against the cushions and curled his hands around the mug Kevin handed him. "You're the best," he said softly, barely making a sound. Resting his throat. Kevin knew the drill by now.
"Did you take a double dose of your meds again?" That would explain the loopiness and the way Charlie was crashing right now.
"I took one before the show and one during intermission. You know how fast I go through them."
Kevin sighed. It was the second time Charlie had gotten sick since they'd been together, and both times he'd been miserable but insisting he wasn't.
Thank God there was no show tomorrow and no matinee on Monday.
"You're going to sleep it off and stay in bed for the next day and a half even if I have to sit on you to keep you there," Kevin told him.
"Oh, honey, you know I don't need much convincing to stay in bed with you," Charlie murmured slightly louder than before. He was trying to be cute, but mostly failing, since he looked like a weak kitten.
"You're lucky I love you," he told him without thinking.
Charlie's eyes widened at that. It wasn't the first time Kevin had said it, but the words were still new enough to be exciting, as Kevin knew from his own experience whenever he got to hear Charlie say them.
And they hadn't yet used them in a throw away manner like he just did, either.
"I am lucky," Charlie said softly, catching Kevin's hand on his knee and using it to pull Kevin to sit on the couch next to him. "I love you, too," he added, resting his head against Kevin's shoulder.
He could feel how overly warm Charlie was, and he wished he could snap his fingers and teleport them home. He did, however, had the next best thing.
"You feel like you can make it to the car? Matt is waiting down the street, but I can text him we need a few more minutes."
Charlie frowned. "What is Matt doing—"
"Nate offered, I said yes," he said with a shrug. He didn't mention Nate had offered him the use of the company car for the night right when Kevin had been gearing up to ask. "Perks of working for the rich people, baby."
"Mhmm, sure." Charlie didn't look convinced, but the surprise seemed to wake him up a bit. He got up slowly. "Come on, then. Let's not keep the man waiting."
Kevin took Charlie's bag from him as they were leaving and twined their fingers together to stave off any protests.
When they exited the theatre, Charlie shivered and pressed against his side, so Kevin let go of Charlie's hand to pull him closer.
"It was a good night, though," Charlie said a propos nothing, but Kevin supposed he meant the performance.
"Good. I'm glad." Joyride had been getting rave reviews right from the start, and the hype surrounding the musical had only grown as the time passed. They were booked solid for every show, but Charlie still worried sometimes that it would somehow come crashing down if he missed a performance. That was why he pushed himself so hard, and, no matter how Kevin hated it as his boyfriend, he also admired it, too.
Charlie tilted his head and looked at him. His eyes were still glassy but a bit clearer than before. "It's still a good night now."
Kevin couldn't not kiss him for that, any possible germs be damned.
"It is."
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ABOUT ALLY
I'm a writer who fell in love with New York City…
So now I write books about love in New York City.
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You can also find me on my website: www.allydecker.com
ALLY'S OTHER BOOKS
New York City Fixers
In the Spotlight (prequel)
By Your Rules
By Your Side
By Your Heart
New York City Lawyers
coming soon!
Copyright 2017 Ally Decker
All rights reserved.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. All person(s) depicted on the cover are model(s) used for illustrative purposes only.
***
Any trademarks, service marks, product names or named features mentioned are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement in using any of these terms.
HIS SEMI-CHARMED LIFE
by Lisa Hughey
ABOUT THE BOOK
Going from princess to pauper wasn't exactly the fairy tale ending Penelope Hastings believed in as a kid. She grabs at the opportunity to work at Camp Firefly Falls—home of her most treasured childhood memories and the haven where her spoiled heart expanded, and her perspective changed, after an encounter with an older boy. Now she's hoping that the camp can work its magic one more time and help her craft a new life.
Rags to riches entrepreneur, Diego Ramos, never wanted to see Camp Firefly Falls again—the site of the most hated year in his teenage life as camp counselor, and his most regrettable moment ever. That one clash with an entitled little girl had a profound impact on him, changing the trajectory of his future. So, when his assistant books a corporate retreat at Camp Firefly Falls, he's more than a little unsettled at the irony.
Now, twenty years later, Penelope and Diego are reunited. A second chance at happiness won't come easy when their reversal in fortunes and unexpected sexual attraction complicates everything. Will they be able to work through their regrets and memories, and learn that love is the greatest fortune of all?
PROLOGUE
June 1997
Worst. Summer. Ever.
Diego Ramos strode out to the parking lot, ignoring the rules to go check on his precious car. His '69 Charger had gotten him here but he'd lost his muffler on the way up. He'd growled the final miles to Camp Firefly Falls on the faulty part.
He'd been working on this car forever. He was finally old enough—sort of—to drive it, even though he'd been tooling around Dot illegally for the past few years.
He was working all summer to pay for the muffler at cost. He'd been planning to buy the one Tío Raul had at his garage. But before Diego could scrape together the money, one of Raul's full-paying customers needed one and his uncle couldn't turn down the sale. Their family friend Hector said he might be able to get his hands on a replacement. Might. But if he got a full paying customer, Hector had to sell it to them, because he needed the money too.
It was the worst to be stuck here. He totally understood that if they had buyers while he was here at camp, he was screwed. He had to stay at camp to make enough money to buy the part.
He kicked at a stone, sent it scuttling into the brush that lined the path.
A single spotlight on a post cast more shadows than illumination over the lot—which was really just a decent-sized opening between two stands of trees.
Diego opened the hood. Not a squeak. He took damn good care of his baby.
He stroked the sleek, clean engine like he was petting his little cousin's cat. "Soon, baby. You'll be all prettied up," he crooned to the engine like she was a girl.
He flushed, glanced around, but no one had seen him talking to his car like she was real.
Diego climbed up on the trunk of his car and lay back to stare up at the stars. The Charger was the one constant in his life. His mother and father were in and out. He had bounced from relative to relative until his uncle got married a few years ago and then he'd gone to live with his tío and tía permanently.
His uncle got him this camp job through one of his customers. Diego was supposed to be thankful for it. He was. Sort of. He'd never tell anyone but he missed his little cousins, Raul Jr. and Zinnia, even though they annoyed him ninety-nine percent of the time.
One thing he'd give to these mountains, the sky was amazing. Light from the stars twinkled in deep blue mysterious space.
"What'cha doing?"
He jerked up so fast his head went dizzy.
And there she was.
He hated working here. Little Miss Princess Penelope embodied every single reason. She was only like nine years old and so damn smug. She'd been whining since her parents dropped her off at the beginning of the week. They were in Europe. Without her. Boo. Fricking. Hoo.
"You're not supposed to be out here," he snarled. Dammit. Why was she here?
Penelope Hastings stood there looking at him with those stupidly innocent, bright green eyes. "Neither are you."
"Get back to your cabin." Except he was going to have to take her. He couldn't let her wander around in the dark. Part of his job was making sure the campers were safe.
"Why are you so upset?" She stepped closer to his car.
Her pout caused everything to bubble up inside him. Couldn't he get frustrated and angry in peace? Couldn't he have one damn minute alone? Apparently not, if he wanted enough money to keep fixing up his baby.
"Let me take you back to your cabin." Diego sighed. He slid off the trunk, dropped to the dirt and gravel parking lot, then took a second to stroke his palm over the blue paint before he gently eased the hood closed.
She danced back a step. "Is something wrong with your car?"
"Yeah."
She frowned, her ginger eyebrows crinkled as if the concept of car problems was beyond her. "Why even bother working on that old piece of junk?"
Junk? Maybe to her it was junk but to him this car was everything. It was freedom. It was life. It was his future.
"Aren't you only fifteen?"
And she was nine. They'd done the whole introduce yourself in a circle on the first day. So he knew her name was Penelope Hastings, she was rich as fuck, and so super sad that her parents had left her at camp instead of taking her to Europe.
"So?" So he'd driven here slightly illegally. So the fuck what? He had his permit.
"Well, if you're only fifteen—" She laughed, a delighted trill of sound, like the birds in the forest only softer, and weirdly sweeter. "When's your birthday?"
He trudged toward the line of cabins where the girls stayed. "September."
What that had to do with anything he had no fucking idea. Of course, he never claimed to understand rich kids. They lived in their own stupid bubble.
She clapped her soft pale hands and laughed again. "Well then, silly. You only have to wait a couple more months and you'll get your new car for your sixteenth birthday!"
She dropped the words so eagerly, so happily, as if she'd magically solved his problem and everyone in the fucking world got a car when they turned sixteen.
"That's about as likely as the Red Sox winning the World Series."
"I don't understand."
"Welcome to the real world where kids don't get new cars on th
eir birthdays, you spoiled brat." Shit, he was going to get in trouble for that. He was a counselor.And he needed this job so he could afford the parts for his beloved car.
Yeah, the owners made it seem like they were all equal and happy and shit, but the reality was, Diego worked for Miss Richy-Rich Hastings.
"Oh." Her face fell, her brows scrunched together as if she were actually trying to imagine a world where kids didn't get a new car when they turned sixteen. "So not everyone gets a car?"
Could this kid be any dumber?
"There's a whole world of people who don't have food to eat at night, don't wear shoes without holes." Ugh, she glanced down at his feet and his ratty old Converse. "And don't get new cars. So, no."
"That's…too bad."
"Yeah, it's a real fucking nightmare."
Her shoulders slumped. Her dark ginger hair was almost Charger Red in the soft light of the parking lot.
"Well," she said brightly, her smile reappearing. "My dad always says, 'How do we turn this failure into a success?'"
"I'm a failure? Thanks for making your opinion loud and clear."
God, he hated her. She was everything he wasn't. Clean and perfect. Her blindingly bright white tennis shoes and her naïve, always smiling face versus his threadbare high tops, soles so worn they were just about to crack, and his scowl.
Her smile faltered. "Oh no, of course not. He just says, 'When things don't go the way you planned, you work with what you've got, and turn that negative into a positive.'"
"I've got nothing." Diego spit out the words. He wanted, with an agonizing pain in his heart, to throw some dirt on her. To ruin that sparkly perfection so she was as dirty and grumpy and mean as he felt inside. "So get the hell out of here, you stupid little rich girl."
Tears filled her bright green eyes. She lifted her trembling chin and shot him a vengeful glare. "I was just trying to be a good friend."