She shook her head. “No.”
At least the mediocrity had been mutual. For some reason, I smiled at her. “You should stop wasting time with assholes. Find someone who’s going to be good to you.”
“You weren’t always an ass, Adam. You have a good heart.” Whitney reached out and fussed with the corner of my collar. “We were good for each other once.”
I let out a slow groan of disapproval. “What are you doing, Whit?”
She smiled in reply, giving me her best flirty look. It had been a long time since I’d been on the receiving end of a Whitney charm offensive. It wasn’t awful. It was just pedestrian and did nothing for me, which made my next move absolutely unfathomable. It also obliterated my good-heart status.
“Do you want to get out of here?” I leaned in close and whispered the question, expecting to be struck down by lightning at any second.
With a tiny smile, she slowly nodded and the soulless deal was complete.
We left via the service stairs at the back, leaving any sense of decency and the last bit of my conscience behind.
* * *
I hailed a cab and took Whitney back to the apartment. I knew Ryan wouldn’t be home early. He was too much of a control freak to let my mother take his restaurant over, and would probably be the last to leave Nellie’s because of it.
“You’ve redecorated,” she noted, wandering around the living room.
“Ryan’s domain,” I replied, searching the fridge for a bottle of water. “I just sleep here.”
Whitney stopped pacing to study the Pipers Cove canvas on the wall.
“Is this one of Charli’s?”
I cringed at the mention of her name. The whole exercise of bringing Whitney home was a ploy to get my mind as far away from Charlotte as possible. “Yes,” I confirmed. “That picture was the very beginning.”
Whitney frowned, having no idea what I meant. I didn’t explain.
“Did she take a picture of the ending too?”
I wondered what it would look like if she had. I didn’t answer. I offered her a bottle of water instead.
Whitney walked around the counter at a ridiculously slow speed. I used the time to figure out what the hell I was doing. One-night stands had never been my forte. They just weren’t my thing. And yet here I was, on the very edge of a new all-time low.
Whitney set the bottle of water down, linked her arms around my neck and pressed herself against me.
I didn’t move.
Whitney was pretty – an elegant, well-put-together brunette with doe-eyes that were anything but. But it wasn’t enough for me. My mind was on a blonde whose beauty extended far beyond pouty looks and flirty innuendos. There weren’t words to describe how lovely Charli was. I’d never even tried. She was sunshine and warmth. She was my heart. And she was gone.
Coming to my senses happened quickly. I broke Whitney’s lock on my neck with both hands. “Whit, I shouldn’t have brought you here. You need to leave.” I felt appalled with myself and embarrassed for her. “I’m so sorry.”
She pulled in a breath and frowned. “Is it because of Parker?” she asked quietly. “That’s over now. It has been for a while.”
I shook my head, taking a step back. “No. It’s because of Charli. That will never be over, no matter much I want it to be.”
She stepped forward, and as she reached for me I grabbed her wrist to keep her at a distance.
“It doesn’t have to mean anything, Adam,” she said softly.
I released her and walked to the living room to get her out of my space. “That’s the whole point, Whit,” I said, turning back. “It wouldn’t mean a damn thing to me, which means I am really not what you need right now. I’ve done enough damage lately.”
I just wanted her gone. I did the kindest thing I could think of. I called a cab and got her out of my apartment.
Desperate to put an end to the day, I fell into bed as soon as she left. I couldn’t even be bothered turning the light off. I turned my head on the pillow, immediately noticing the photo on the nightstand. I stared at the Polaroid picture for a long time, studying the couple smiling back at me. It was the picture Charli had taken of us on New Year’s Eve – one of the last good nights we’d had before everything went to hell. Until then, I hadn’t realised how symbolic it was.
“She did photograph the ending,” I muttered aloud.
* * *
Ryan surfaced before me the next morning. He was sitting at the table poring over paperwork when I got to the kitchen.
“Hard night?”
“Nope. I came home early.”
He looked at me, smiling wryly. “With who?”
I poured myself a cup of coffee. “No one.”
“Liar.”
Ryan pointed to the couch. A blue shawl thing was draped over the back of it. I’d paid so little attention to Whitney that I wasn’t even sure it was hers.
I had no choice but to explain the sorry events of the night before, purely to stop Ryan jumping to conclusions. “I’m glad your brain kicked into gear,” he muttered. “The last thing you need is that level of guilt.”
He was right.
I pulled out a chair and joined him. “What are you doing?”
He shuffled papers. “Your errant little wife has left me with one hell of a mess,” he grumbled. “She hasn’t returned any mail in weeks. You should’ve done me a favour and retained Billet-doux in the divorce.”
“It wouldn’t have made any difference. She didn’t sign off on the divorce.”
“Really,” he drawled, sounding too interested. “Holding out for more glitter money?”
“No, she just didn’t want to sign.”
“So where does that leave you?”
I shrugged. “Married, I guess.”
He pulled a face. “You two are ridiculous, her especially.” Charli was turning into a giant pain in Ryan’s ass. Her lack of aptitude when it came to Billet-doux was letting the side down and he was close to breaking point. “I think it might be time that I paid her a little visit.” He sounded like an assassin gearing up for his next hit. He gathered his papers. “I haven’t had a vacation in a long time. I could visit Never Never Land, buy her out of my business and be back by the end of the week.”
He’d made it sound so simple. Life in Pipers Cove didn’t run that way, but I was prepared to let him find that out for himself, mainly because it would benefit me too. I wanted to know if Charli was okay, and wasn’t above sending a spy to find out.
The only plan more flawed than Ryan’s idea of a quick visit to Pipers Cove was the one he came up with of me overseeing his restaurants while he was out of town.
“No way,” I protested.
“It’s the only way it can work, Adam. It’s not like you have anything else going on at the moment.”
Sadly, he was right. I still had over a month to go before the start of my clerkship. I had no real excuse not to help out.
“Fine,” I relented, after just a few seconds. “I’ll do it.”
“Right.” He leaned back, resting his hands behind his head. “Well, it looks like I’m bound for Never Never Land. I should call the travel agent and book. What’s the quickest way? Through LA?”
Peter Pan flooded my head. “Second star on the right, and straight on ’til morning.”
May 27
Charli
Just like my waistline, the secret of my pregnancy was well and truly busted. The news that Alex Blake’s wayward daughter had returned to the Cove pregnant and alone spread like wildfire. No one ever asked me about Adam, but I suspect his name was constantly being bounced around town. For the most part, I didn’t care what was said behind my back. People were respectful enough to be kind to my face.
Once the secret was out, my body responded accordingly. By the time I reached the thirty-one week mark, I looked like I’d swallowed a beach ball.
Floss Davis had become my one-woman fan club. Every week she presented me with a new gift. The
latest was a pair of hand-knitted booties. She took great pleasure in informing me that they were made from organic wool. I tried hard not to appear confused. Wasn’t wool a natural fibre anyway?
Nicole’s mother, Carol, was also an unlikely supporter – sort of. “I’ll cut your hair short for you,” she offered. “Once the baby comes you won’t have time to shower, let alone wash and style your hair. You’ll be a mess.”
According to her, I was destined to become an exhausted, unkempt new mother. I was also set for a lifetime of stretch marks and very little sleep.
“Mum!” scolded Nicole, mortified. “Leave her alone. We came here for a pedicure, not a lecture.”
“I’m educating her, Nicole,” hissed Carol, dismissing her with a flick of her head. “Someone needs to offer Charli some guidance. God knows her father isn’t able to do it.”
Carol Lawson’s lack of tact wasn’t intentional. It was just her way. The cringeworthy educational chats she used to subject Nicole and me to when we were younger had scarred us for life. Until then I’d never heard anyone say the word noo-noo. Funnily enough, I’d never heard anyone other than Carol say it since.
Filling my days with shifts at the café, taking pictures or getting obligatory pedicures wasn’t exactly enthralling but it kept me out of the house – and away from my neighbour. In fairness, I hadn’t seen much of Flynn lately. Maybe my belly made the prospect of dating me unappealing. Whatever the reason, I was glad he was over me.
* * *
Some days I had no choice but to stay in – usually when I ran out of things to wear. I looked at the mountain of clothes on the laundry floor and groaned, resigned to the fact that I’d found my calling for the day.
I was bundling a load into the machine when someone started beating at my screen door. The urgent pounding frightened me half to death. Through the weave of the mesh screen I got a perfect view of my caller. And it was the last person I expected it to be.
“Open the door, Tinker Bell,” Ryan demanded, like the egotistical jerk he was.
The full gamut of emotions surged through me. I was excited to see him and yet I was fighting the urge to close the curtains and pretend I wasn’t home. I was feeling like a cornered felon. The minute Ryan Décarie laid eyes on me, my life on the lam would be over.
“Hurry up, Charli. I know you’re in there!” He pounded harder.
Abandoning my hiding spot in the laundry, I ambled to the door, but it did nothing to stop his impatient hammering. It occurred to me that he couldn’t see through the privacy mesh. It allowed me a few more minutes to keep my secret.
“I’m here.” He jumped at the sound of my voice. “Stop bashing my door.”
Ryan put his too-handsome face up to the mesh, trying to see inside. “Well, open it then,” he purred menacingly.
“Why are you here, Ryan?” I did my best to sound annoyed – or at the very least, inconvenienced.
He took a step back, arms outstretched.
“I’ve just spent twenty-something hours in the air and you’re seriously going to converse with me through a closed door?”
“Answer my question.”
Ryan groaned. “I’m sleep deprived and off my game. What was your question?”
“Why. Are. You. Here?”
“Charli, as much as it pains me, we are business partners,” he said. “It’s not working out is it?”
I agreed wholeheartedly, but my response didn’t suggest it. “I guess not.”
“All you had to do to keep things running smoothly was keep up with the paperwork. I keep sending it to you but get nothing back.”
I felt a little bad. After the phone call from Michael Fontaine, I’d stopped opening my mail. Poor Ryan was paying the price.
“So you came all this way to get me to sign some papers?”
“Yeah, because that’s entirely logical. I’ll just fly to the end of the earth once a month to make sure you’re doing your homework.”
I couldn’t blame him for the sarcasm. To Ryan, his businesses were everything. He’d travelled to the other side of the world because I’d dropped the ball. He had every right to be annoyed.
“I’ll sign whatever you want me to.”
“It’s gone beyond that, sweetheart,” he said in his usual patronising tone. “I’m here to make you an offer. I think it’s time we put this to bed and I just buy you out. Agreed?”
I didn’t even hesitate. “Agreed.”
I would have heard his sigh of relief from across town. “Brilliant. So are you going to let me in or would you like me to just write you a cheque and slip it under the door?”
“I’ll let you in.”
“Today?” he asked, rattling the door handle.
I’d reached the end of the line. Ryan was three seconds always from seeing my belly. I made one last-ditch effort to retain control. “You have to promise me something first.”
Perhaps thinking that negotiations might be ongoing for a while, he grabbed a deck chair and sat down. “Why are you such a damned child?”
“Please, Ryan. This is important.”
Probably too exhausted to fight me, he caved in. “Fine.” He slapped his hands on his knees. “Cross my heart, hope to die, wish upon a star, whatever you need.”
“You won’t contact Adam while you’re here,” I demanded.
Far from outraged, he punched out a hard laugh. “Look, I know you and Adam are not in a good place right now – ”
“He’s trying to divorce me.”
“Trying being the operative word,” he noted. I breathed in deep, determined to keep my wits. Ryan seemed to take pity on me. “I’m not here to do my brother’s bidding, Charli,” he said, dropping the choler. “I have no interest in whether or not you play nice in your divorce. I just want you out of my business.”
Ryan leaned back, stretched out his legs and folded his arms. I hoped he wasn’t about to go to sleep. I wasn’t anywhere near finished with him.
“You promise not to call him, no matter what?”
“Yes. Do you want me to put it in writing?”
I unlocked the door and stepped out. The weary traveller didn’t move a muscle. Fearing I’d shocked him to death, I nudged his foot with mine. “Wake up,” I ordered, realising his eyes were closed.
“I’m not asleep.”
“Open your eyes then.”
Ryan cocked his head and looked up at me, squinting as if focusing took effort. His pose didn’t waver but a slow smile crept across his face. I truly had no idea which way the conversation was going to go. “Well, well, well,” he drawled, stretching out the words. “Isn’t this a game changer?”
I put my hands over my stomach as if that was all it would take to keep her out of view. “Please don’t call Adam.” I spoke in a strange tone reminiscent of someone trying to talk a jumper down from a rooftop. “I’ll let him know in plenty of time.”
My father would make sure of that.
“What are you waiting for, Charli? A sign? When the moon ducks lay their eggs at sunrise, you’ll tell him? When the pixies get permission from the high elf, you’ll tell him?”
I didn’t kick up at his stupid comment. “What’s a moon duck?”
“I have no freaking idea,” he muttered.
Ryan hoisted himself out of the chair like a tired old man, and dragged another chair across for me. We sat side by side for a long time while he processed the news.
“You stupid girl,” he finally grumbled. “The child will be taken care of, Charli. He or she is a Décarie.”
He’d announced it with the same reverence as Gabrielle. And it was just as maddening hearing it the second time around. “She’s a Blake,” I snapped. “She’s going to grow up here and be grounded and normal. She’s going to be free-range.”
“Normal?” he scoffed. “What could you possibly know about being normal? And free-range. Like the moon ducks?”
“Yes,” I replied bleakly. “I imagine moon ducks are free-range.”
�
��Peachy. Adam will be so proud. Décarie babies aren’t free-range, Charlotte. Their lives are privileged and structured.” Probably wishing he’d missed his flight, Ryan leaned forward, and buried his face in his hands. “You’ve created one hell of a mess.”
I let it go. This was a battle for her father, not her uncle. “What’s going to happen when he finds out?”
He lifted his head. “What do you want to happen?”
I wasn’t about to humiliate myself by telling him about the small part of my heart that was still hoping for a fairy-tale ending. “I don’t know.”
“I don’t think that’s true,” he accused. “You want him to be thrilled by the idea of having the kid that you told him was gone, come to this godforsaken hick town, build you a picket fence and live happily ever after.”
When he stopped for breath I cut in sourly. “I didn’t ask you what you think I want.”
“Look at me, Charli.” It was a softly spoken demand – but a demand nonetheless. I did as I was told. “I’m always going to tell you the truth. You know that, right?”
I nodded, bracing for the very worst. His answer was going to hurt. “Adam hasn’t been coping very well. When he finds out that all the guilt has been for nothing, he’s going to be really upset. I don’t know what’s going to happen, but don’t go making picket fence plans.”
To hide the fact that he’d just delivered a perfect coup de grâce , I closed my eyes and settled back in my chair. The lovely warmth of the sun on my belly was a welcome distraction from the trauma shaking my already battered heart.
When Ryan finally spoke again, I realised he’d been using the time to come up with a game plan. He asked when the baby was due.
“The first of August.”
He nodded. “Hold off telling Adam a little while longer,” he suggested. “He has his exam coming up soon. Once that’s out of the way, hit him with it.”
“Yes,” I agreed. “Must not disturb the study.”
Ryan chuckled darkly. “Lighten up, fairy pants. He’s going to need to pass. He has a baby on the way.”
* * *
Ryan Décarie was not renowned for uplifting, morale-building conversations, which was fine because that wasn’t what I needed. All I wished for was direction and a clear head. Without realising it, his brand of no-nonsense straight talking had been exactly what I was looking for. I was ecstatic that he was there.
Storm Shells Page 19