Falling for Her Soldier 3

by Ophelia London

  “Yeah, good, good,” Ellie said. “And did you check with the music people? We didn’t have a proper run-through of any of the dances.”

  “It’s fine,” Jane said.

  Ellie bit her thumbnail. “After dinner, the center tables are getting pushed back to make the dance floor.”

  “Ellie, I know. We all know what to do. Don’t worry.”

  She exhaled. Don’t worry. Yeah, right.

  Jane drained the rest of her drink. “So, did you see Drew?”

  “Yep,” she said, staring down at her manicure.

  “And?”

  “And nothing. I owed it to him to meet, but I’m not interested.” In fact, after being in Drew’s presence for approximately five seconds, she’d been so incredibly not interested, it was laughable. Not that she’d met with him to see if a spark was there; she knew it wasn’t, because she knew that—despite logic—she was in love with someone else.

  “Did you tell him about the tango?” Jane asked.

  She shook her head. She didn’t want to admit this aloud, but she couldn’t bear the thought of doing that dance with anyone but Charlie. She felt a fist squeeze her throat, longing for the one person she wanted comfort from.

  “Have you heard from him?”

  Ellie was about to ask who, but didn’t bother. “No.” Well, he’d called her cell a dozen times, but she’d never answered and he’d never left a message.

  “He came by the studio yesterday after you left,” Jane said.

  Ellie stared straight ahead. “I’m sure he did. He needed his precious car.”

  “He came to see you. Seemed pretty torn up.”

  “Good.” But saying that made her stomach churn.

  “Oh, no.” Jane moaned. “I was afraid this would happen. You’re bitter.”

  “Don’t you think I’ve got the right to be bitter?”

  “No, you have the right to be ticked off, but you shouldn’t let it sour you. It’s just like your knee.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I know you’re still pissed off sometimes about getting injured in your prime. It was totally unfair, but it was an accident. You have to let it go and forgive yourself.”

  She’d been trying to do that. She’d even mentioned to Charlie when they were at his apartment that she was thinking of going back to counseling to get over some of the leftover bitterness. Why hadn’t she yet? Was that another fear?

  “What does that have to do with Charlie?” she asked.

  “Ellie, yeah, you’ve been screwed with by some real losers, and I think that’s part of why you didn’t want to date for a year—I don’t blame you, you were hurt. But this thing with Charlie, don’t point at it and tell the world, ‘See, I told you so!’ That won’t make you happy. Don’t let what happened make you lose faith in people.”

  Sadness and confusion burned behind Ellie’s eyes. Jane still sounded like a Hallmark card, but she was dead right, again—she had lost faith. It was a necessary defense mechanism, but it was never meant to go on indefinitely. Her clenched fists were evidence enough that she needed to let go…to open her heart, trust. Maybe even forgive…

  “Can we not talk about this, please?” she asked in a teary voice. “My makeup isn’t waterproof.”

  Jane opened her mouth to say more, but then nodded and squeezed her arm. “What do you need help with now?”

  Ellie sniffed and scanned the room. “Will you check with the wait staff? Make sure they have everything?”

  “You got it.” She knocked her hip. “See you later.”

  As Ellie turned to chat to a group of guests, Chick appeared. “How ya holding up, kiddo?”

  “Wow, handsome, you clean up nice,” she said, regarding his freshly pressed suit. “And I’m doing fine—great.”

  Chick pulled back a sympathetic smile. “I heard about what happened. Well, I guess everyone heard, since it was on the news.”

  “Yeah.” Ellie rubbed her nose, not wanting to get into it with him.

  “No excuses, of course,” Chick said, “but the guy’s working through some heavy stuff, Ellie. A lot happened to him during his last mission. He was in the back office with me all morning.”

  “Charlie was here?”

  He nodded. “He’s a pretty buttoned-up guy; I think you’re aware of that. Civilians don’t always get what it’s like to be a military leader. There’s a lot of pressure. Charlie feels too much sometimes, takes on too much responsibility for what happens on his missions. Especially that last one. But he talked about it with me, opened up. I know what a huge deal that was for him.” He cocked his head. “I understand he told you about what happened, too.”

  Ellie’s chest quaked as she inhaled, remembering that conversation, how shattered Charlie seemed to be. But he’d shared anyway, even though it was clearly painful for him to relive.

  “Yes, he told me.” She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to feel the hug they’d shared right after he’d finished his story.

  “That’s pretty amazing,” Chick said. “He must trust you more than anyone in the world.”

  She put a hand over her mouth, preemptively muffling a sob.

  “He even signed up for a group session next week,” Chick added. “I think he hopes this place will be around for a lot of years to come.”

  Ellie bit down on her trembling lip and nodded. “So do I.”

  They both turned at the sound of a commotion at the entrance. The guests gathered there were parting down the middle. That’s when she noticed the first camera. Then another, each with a team of two or three news-looking people. She counted five different stations, then she spotted Rick Duffy talking to one of the groups, pointing them toward the main stage.

  “I’ll go see what that’s about,” Chick said, then disappeared.

  Rick caught her eye, waved, and went on directing other news teams. Ellie stood back and stared, not sure what was going on. She knew Rick was coming to write about it for his newspaper, but they’d never talked about another news crew, let alone five.

  Well, if she wanted wide coverage, this was about as wide as you could get.

  A few minutes later, Rick weaved through the crowd. “They’re going to shoot footage for a while,” he said as he was breezing by. Ellie picked up the bottom of her skirt so she could walk along with him, but in her long dress and high heels, she couldn’t keep up. “We all go live for the ten o’clock news,” he threw over his shoulder. Then he glanced her way while shaking the hand of one of the guests he passed. “If that’s okay with you.”

  “Yes,” she said, a bit bewildered. “That’s wonderful. Thanks.”

  “Don’t thank me,” Rick said just as the crowd was swallowing him up.

  Ellie stared after him, still blinking in confusion.

  But wow. Five news channels and a live broadcast. This was insanely huge. Suddenly, it was like the mood in the room elevated into Super-Glam level. Camera lights were on, the chatting and laughing seemed to expand. It was exactly what the event needed, what the WS needed. She felt saved, but then she felt lost, wishing she could tell Charlie about it.

  For the next hour, she chatted with guests and smiled, but after a while, she grew plain old tired…exhausted, mentally and physically. Like the pro he was, Chick made a wonderful, heartfelt speech, and Ellie even got a standing ovation for planning the event, although she’d rather have blended into the background.

  Everything was going great, better then great, and before she knew it, the tables were being pushed back and Chick was announcing the first part of the entertainment. Well, the only part now, since the tango was off.

  Jane and two other teachers from the studio did a modern dance to the theme song from Band of Brothers. It was beautiful and moving, and Ellie was enraptured as she watched. She’d been standing all day and felt her legs shake every time Jane rose up on her toes.

  It was probably a good thing she wasn’t going to tango. She’d most likely fall flat on her face; no partner was stro
ng enough to hold up her tired body tonight. Charlie was strong enough, of course, she knew that. But Charlie wasn’t there.

  “Hey.”

  She turned from watching Jane to see her brother dressed in the dark green suit she’d picked out a few years ago—very Army.

  “Do you have a minute?”

  “I don’t wanna talk to you,” she muttered through her teeth.

  “You’re mad, I get that, and I’m sorry about what happened.”

  “Sorry?” She dropped her voice lower, ready to continue on about the lies and the broken trust, but she didn’t have it in her.

  “Can I tell you what happened?” Sam broke in before she had a chance to say anything.

  “Sam, this isn’t the time or place. You can see I’m in the middle of running an event for two hundred people, right?”

  “Yeah, I know, but I owe Charlie.”

  She stared at the ceiling. “You guys and your back-and-forth favors. When does it end?”

  “Look, we did lie to you; I lied to you, and I’m really sorry. It was a heat of the moment kind of thing, nothing planned. He told me about e-mailing you.”

  “I told you first.”

  “Yeah, well, it was different coming from him. The way he talked about you, I knew something was different, but I didn’t want to believe it.” He ran a hand over his shaved head, the short red hairs getting longer. “We both changed after that last mission.”

  Ellie nodded, thinking about what Chick said, and also remembering what Charlie had told her right after she’d found out the truth—that he wasn’t the same man he used to be. He wasn’t Hunter.

  “He told me you guys had a real connection online but then he stepped back because you’re my sister.”

  “The code,” Ellie said mockingly.

  “He’s serious about it, Ellie. That’s when I knew it was different with you, because he wanted to tell you the truth, he wanted to be with you even if that meant pissing me off.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “After you told me about the e-mails, I confronted him. The guy was pretty desperate and I could tell the guilt was eating him up, but I wouldn’t let him come clean with you.”

  “Why?” she snapped, then glanced around and hushed her voice. “Why would you ask him to do that?”

  Sam pulled at the knot of his tie. “Those other guys you told me about, the ones you dated. I didn’t want you to get hurt like that again, and I guess I didn’t believe he’d really changed. I figured he would hit on you one too many times and it’d be over, especially after all the stories I told you about him—”

  “Which were true,” she cut in.

  “Even the best, most honorable people make mistakes, Ellie. Charlie, he’s one of the very best.”

  The words cut into her heart. “Everything he said was a lie,” she forced herself to say, but both the hurt and her desire to stay angry were melting.

  “He was only dishonest about one thing.”

  She rolled her eyes. “You sound like Jane.”

  “I’m not telling you this so you’ll forgive him; I just want you to know what really went down.”

  Her throat was too tight to say anything, and finally Sam walked away.

  It was fine for Sam and Jane and Chick to explain Charlie’s actions, but shouldn’t Charlie be doing that himself? Okay, so maybe he’d tried to explain yesterday after the on-air interview, and yeah, maybe she hadn’t answered when he’d called her cell. She’d been mad. She was still mad, and she wanted to yell at him and shake him by the shoulders until he explained everything, until he held her tight and made her forgive him.

  But he wasn’t here.

  If the only thing he was dishonest about was his name, what did that mean? For just a moment, Ellie decided to put a pin in that, and consider the rest of their story.

  It was Charlie who’d cleaned three restrooms at the WS before she’d arrived so she wouldn’t have to. It was Charlie who’d freely given her his car, his “baby,” when he knew she needed to get away. Charlie was the one who’d kissed her like no one ever had, and laughed with her and made her feel safe and happy and alive. It was Charlie Johansson who had saved Sam’s life and then e-mailed her for two months so she wouldn’t feel alone. It was Charlie she danced with and wanted to dance with for the rest of her life.

  Charlie was who she trusted with her whole heart.

  Ellie blinked with a start when the crowd around her erupted in applause. Jane’s dance ended and she was bowing to the crowd. Cameras flashed, blinding her, and suddenly the room was too bright, too crowded, and very much too lacking in one person’s presence.

  Just then, Rick breezed her way. Mac was on his arm this time, and Tess was behind them, holding the arm of a tall, dark-haired guy.

  “Ellie, hi,” Tess said hesitantly, breaking away. “I’m sorry about…before.”

  “Me too,” Mac added, sliding to Tess’s side.

  “It’s okay,” Ellie said. “I…I think I know what…I know what happened.” She glanced past them, wondering with foolish hope if maybe Charlie had come, too. But no, she figured he was somewhere quiet, very much away from the public’s eye, probably thanking his lucky stars he wasn’t about to dance under a spotlight.

  Why had she done that? Why had she suggested they do a dance in the first place? Had it been some kind of test to see if Big Game Hunter would break? Maybe. But that felt so long ago, like they were two different people back then.

  “My brother is a super-ass,” Tess added.

  “The biggest super-ass,” Mac tacked on, nodding.

  Ellie felt like she was supposed to agree with them in girl power camaraderie. But she didn’t happen to agree.

  “Some show,” Rick said.

  “Yeah,” Ellie replied over the noise. “Thanks again for all this. It’s overwhelming.”

  “It wasn’t my idea. It was Charlie’s.”

  Ellie stared at him. “What do you mean?”

  “He barged into my office yesterday, begging me to pull every string I have to make sure the news stations would cover the event. He offered to give me his car.”

  “The Impala?” Ellie asked in horror. “You didn’t take it, did you?” She was about to wrestle him for the keys.

  “No,” Rick said. “But after that, I knew he was dead serious.”

  “So Charlie…he did this?”

  “All of it. Only thing I did was set up a few phone calls. Charlie’s the one who talked to every news director in town. I have no idea what he promised them.”

  Ellie’s heart pounded in her throat, behind her ears, not hearing anything else Rick was saying. There was only one thought on her mind. “I have to… Excuse me.” As she darted toward Chick’s office, she pulled her phone from her clutch and found the number. But before she could hit the call button, her phone rang.

  “Ellie,” the voice on the other end said.

  “Charlie?” she practically shouted. The room she was in was loud enough, but when she pressed the phone to her ear, everything seemed twice as deafening on his end. “Charlie?” she repeated.

  “Ellie, please don’t hang up. I’m sorry—so sorry. Can you hear me?”

  She nodded, tears choking her speech. “I hear you,” she said, covering her other ear. “Charlie? Where—”

  “I’m so sorry, Ellie. Truly.”

  “I know.” She pressed her hand harder over her ear, straining to hear. “Where are you?”

  “It turned into a mess. I didn’t mean for that to happen. I’ll tell you everything, I swear. I’m so sorry about all of it.”

  She swallowed and nodded some more. “I know. I’m sorry, too. I need to see you. Can I come over?”

  “No, you can’t.”

  Her heart dropped to her stilettoed feet. “Oh.” She blinked back new tears. “Okay.”

  “Ellie,” he said, his words barely audible through all the noise, “you can’t come over because I’m not at home. But if you want to see me, just lift your c
hin and look slightly to the right.”

  “What?” she said, totally confused. But when she lifted her eyes, they landed on Charlie standing ten yards away, his phone to his ear. He was wearing a black suit, snowy white shirt, black tie. American flag lapel pin glinting under the lights. He looked a hundred times better than any daydream.

  “Hi,” he said into the phone, waving.

  “Hi,” she whispered, her heart soaring with relief, though about to pound out of her chest. “What are you doing here?”

  He didn’t answer, but instead pointed at someone she couldn’t see. Suddenly, the lights in the room dimmed and Charlie—camera-shy, soldier boy Charlie—was standing under a spotlight. Someone traded him a microphone for his cell.

  “What am I doing here?” he spoke into the mic. The crowd buzzed in shock and turned his way. “Eleanor,” he said, walking toward her. “I’m here because you’re here…so there’s nowhere on the planet I’d rather be.” When he got within two feet, he stopped and extended his hand. “May I have this dance?”

  Without a thought of her pride or bruised feelings from the past, she dropped her phone and purse and reached out. “Yes,” she said. Her fingers tingled when she slid her hand into his and he gripped her tight. The crowd parted around them as he led her to the middle of the floor.

  He glanced at her and lifted an eyebrow. “Ready?”

  “You hate this kind of attention,” she whispered. “You don’t have to do this.”

  Charlie pulled back a dazzling smile. “For you, Ellie”—he leaned over and touched his forehead to hers—“I’d do anything.” A second later, he hooked an arm around her waist, spun her in a half turn, then caught her in a starting position for the tango.

  “Bublé?” she whispered, looking into his eyes, barely noticing the two hundred people and five news cameras focused on them.

  “Hell, no,” Charlie said, nodding to someone behind her. “But you better hold onto me; this could get wild.” He locked his frame and the music began.

  The familiar oooh’s, Spanish guitar, velvety voice, and that sexy twinkle in Charlie’s eyes. And then the lyrics, It’s now or never, had never rung so true.