Charmed by Charlie

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Charmed by Charlie Page 3

by Amanda Uhl


  “I see.” He cocked one eyebrow at me.

  “Why are you giving me that look?” I asked.

  “What look?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Please. You’re looking at me like you know something I don’t. C’mon now. Spill.”

  “It’s really none of my business.” He turned his back on me nonchalantly to study the display.

  “You’re right. It’s not. But I wanna know what your look was for. So tell me.”

  His eyes met mine in the mirror. “Well, since you ask, you don’t look like the type of girl who’d be afraid to announce her engagement.”

  “Afraid?” I scoffed, quite convincingly I thought. “I’m not afraid. Why do you think I’m afraid? It’s a mutually agreed-on approach. We decided we weren’t going to tell anyone about the engagement until I could wear the ring. Perfectly logical.”

  “Perfectly crazy. In the short time I’ve known you, you’ve told me you and George are engaged. If you can tell me, why can’t you tell your mom?”

  Put like that, it did sound a little crazy. Why hadn’t I told my family?

  A familiar face appeared in the mirrored signage. My mother, looking youthful with a straw sun hat on and a pink summer dress. “I figured I’d find you here.”

  My heart thumped in my chest. How much had she heard? I turned to greet her. “Hi, Mom. Ready to go?”

  “Val, don’t be rude. Who’s your friend? And what haven’t you told me?”

  Busted. I glanced at Charlie to see him gazing at my mother with interest. I was trapped. “Just work stuff. I don’t want to bore you. Mom, meet Charlie. Charlie, my mother LuAnne.”

  “Hi, Charlie. Nice to meet you. You two work together?”

  “Sure do,” Charlie said easily. “I was hoping to run a few ideas by your daughter so I waylaid her in the hardware store. I didn’t know the two of you had plans.” He flashed my mother twin dimples and looked at me. “Maybe next time.”

  “Val, I don’t mind if he joins us.” My mother turned to Charlie. “Are you hungry? You two can talk a little shop over breakfast. I need to make a phone call anyway. A friend in California. I promised to call him at ten.”

  I rolled my eyes. Since as long as I could remember, my mother had a male companion. Her current “friend” lived in San Francisco and was an aspiring actor, a location and profession that suited my mother fine. In her case, absence did make the heart grow fonder. It also allowed her to maintain the persona of a single lady—a role she played to perfection.

  “Thanks for the invitation. I’ll accept on one condition—you let me pick up the bill.”

  My mother was all over the offer in a heartbeat. “Why how nice! Thank you. The cafe is just down the main strip…. Caroline’s. Why don’t you walk with us?”

  “Excellent.”

  How had this happened? I was trailing Charlie and my mother, while they chatted like old friends. Over the last year, I had carefully constructed a solid line between my personal and professional life, only to have it crumble to dust before my eyes.

  Charlie and my mother reached the door, and Charlie held it open for my mother, while she beamed up at him and trilled, “Such a gentleman.”

  I rolled my eyes again. I couldn’t help it. Charming Charlie had managed to win over my mother within two minutes of their introductions and get himself invited to breakfast. My mother was a sucker for a good-looking man. I would have to remind her Charlie was way too young for her. He waited, holding the door wide and flashing me a devilish grin as I went through. Clearly, he knew he had scored a minor victory.

  Upon arriving at Caroline’s, he further impressed us by pulling the chairs out before we sat. He proceeded to order an abnormally large quantity of food and down it in front of us. I eyed him jealously. Not a stitch of fat appeared on his long, lean frame. I attacked my grapefruit. My mother noticed.

  “You’re not doing one of those grapefruit diets again? That’s a yo-yo diet. You’ll lose the weight and gain it all back.”

  Charlie looked at me with interest. “You’re dieting?”

  I was, but I wasn’t going to admit it. “I like grapefruit. Yum.” I shoved a spoonful of grapefruit into my mouth. Juice dribbled, and I could feel Charlie’s eyes on it, watching its progress down my chin. I grabbed my napkin and wiped my face. His eyes bounced off mine and I caught a glimpse of something shifting under the surface before they dropped to his stack of pancakes. He stabbed them with his fork and shoveled a large bite into his mouth. Torturer. I concentrated on my grapefruit, imagining how slim I would look in my wedding gown.

  “You should try the hypnosis diet.” My mother was not offering random advice. She was the queen of diets, having tried nearly every one under the sun in her fifty-four years. Her latest involved hiring a hypnotherapist named Ron.

  Would it prevent me from craving a stack of pancakes? “How are you liking it?” I asked.

  “Ron says it will take a while before I see results. Remember, hypnosis is only suggestion. He can’t make me do anything I don’t want to do.”

  “I thought you wanted to lose weight?”

  My mother gave me the look— the one that said she had learned to tolerate my freakish ways—and commented to Charlie as if I was not sitting at the table next to her. “Of course I want to lose weight. My point is it’s not enough to hire a hypnotherapist. You have to want to lose the weight.”

  “Does anyone on a diet not want to lose weight?” My mother’s logic had me stumped.

  She shrugged. “Ron says there can be deep psychological scars that prevent people from achieving their weight goals. And you know that asshole did a real number on you.”

  I clenched my teeth. Leave it to my mother to bring up one of my worst nightmares in front of Charlie. Next to me, Charlie continued to shovel pancakes in his mouth, so maybe he hadn’t heard or put two and two together.

  “Okay, Mom.” I checked my watch. “Oh dear, would you look at the time. It’s nearly eleven. Didn’t you want to call your friend?”

  “Well, I was going to finish breakfast first. But I can see you’re anxious to talk shop…” She looked at me and batted her eyes in an exaggerated expression, letting me know she thought Charlie was cute and that was why I wanted him alone. “So I’ll leave you to it.” She stood up and grabbed her purse. “When the waitress returns, have her refresh my coffee, will you?”

  And with that she was off to talk to Bill or Bobby or whatever his name was. I was left alone with Charlie.

  “Who’s the asshole?”

  So he had been paying attention. Figures.

  “No one important. My mother likes to exaggerate. Where have you been the past few weeks?”

  “I’m surprised you noticed I was gone.”

  “Well, of course I noticed. Your office is not that far from mine.”

  “Fair enough.” He fiddled with the handle of his coffee cup. “I was doing a little investigating.”

  I frowned. “Investigating what?”

  “Julie.”

  I nearly let my mouth hang open. “Whatever for?”

  “I think Julie might be purposely jeopardizing the company.”

  “What? Why would you think that? I mean, I’m no fan of Julie’s, but I can’t think of any reason for her to take down her livelihood. She stands to inherit the company when Larry retires.”

  “I know. You’re right. It doesn’t make any sense to me, either. But over the past year poor decisions have been made, and large sums of money have exchanged hands. Did you know Reynolds has given thousands of dollars to several start-ups?”

  I gaped. “What do you mean, start-ups?”

  “Just that. New businesses that haven’t been proven. Start-ups.”

  “Like what kinds of businesses?”

  “Odd ones. A company with an app that takes pictures of you constantly and stores them. A drink made with rare minerals that’s supposed to slow the aging process.”

  “No kidding. Does it work?”

&nbs
p; He frowned, but his blue eyes sparkled, letting me know he enjoyed our verbal sparring. “Well, I don’t know. But you know what they say: If it sounds too good to be true, it probably is. Which is my point. Why would Larry Reynolds bleed money into such unlikely investments?”

  When I didn’t respond right away, he answered for me. “He wouldn’t, of course. Larry Reynolds is as solid as they come. My family has known him for ages and his father before him. So it must be Julie. She’s the only other family member who could authorize the funds.”

  I took a deep breath. “Uh, not exactly.”

  Charlie gave me a questioning look, his gaze intense.

  “Julie has a stepbrother…Se…Seth. I mean as far as I know, he’s not involved in the business anymore. He’s a lot younger than Julie, and they’ve never gotten along. Larry married Seth’s mother when he was ten. Seth and Julie didn’t grow up together.”

  Charlie was eyeing me suspiciously. Had my telltale stutter given me away? I looked down, preventing his sharp eyes from reading something in mine I didn’t want to disclose.

  “Have you met Seth?”

  My heart pounded, but I worked hard to control the beats. Steady, girl. He doesn’t need to know anything. “Yeah, sure.”

  I picked up my fork and dug at my grapefruit, keeping my facial expression tightly leashed. “Last time I saw him was two years ago at the company holiday party.” Furtively, I checked the time on my phone, which was lying on the table next to my plate. I had this thing about keeping track. Two years, five days, and twelve hours ago. The exact time was forever etched in my brain, because he’d had my former roommate and best friend on his arm when I saw him for the last time. I had to work hard to keep the bitterness from entering my voice, but I thought I managed it quite well, considering.

  “Well, that makes him a pretty unlikely candidate, right?”

  I looked up to catch Charlie’s glittering eyes on mine. What was he thinking? I was the first to look away.

  Say something witty, my alter ego practically yelled at me. I opted for deflection. “So, you still think Julie’s responsible?”

  Charlie sighed. “I don’t want to believe it. But it’s more than a sales slump that’s causing the company to slide downhill. I aim to find out what it is before I put a lot of energy into coming up with a new product line and marketing campaign.”

  The same shock of blond hair had fallen into his eyes again, tormenting me. I ached to reach out and brush it away. Silly. He sighed and rubbed a frustrated hand over his head, eliminating the temptation. My eyes tracked the movement.

  “Val, I need you to keep an eye on things. Let me know if you see anything suspicious. Larry Reynolds is a good man. But if we don’t turn things around and stop the bloodletting, we run the risk of bankruptcy. I refuse to let another company fail on my watch.”

  I forced my eyes away from the hand rubbing his scalp. Wait. Did he say another company failed? “What other company?”

  “My last client. They were skimming money before the entire company collapsed. I won’t let that happen again.”

  I couldn’t prevent a gasp from escaping my mouth. Short of George, this company brought stability to my life. I could not sit back and watch it be destroyed. “You think someone’s stealing money?”

  “I don’t know what to think. But something’s off. So would you please keep an eye out and let me know immediately if you notice anything?” He phrased it as a polite question, but I somehow felt as if I were being tested.

  “Okay,” I said. “I will.”

  Three simple words. I’d only agreed to report anything suspicious. So why did it feel like I’d promised so much more?

  Chapter Three

  “Yum. That smells fantastic,” I said, coming in the front door of George’s parents’ house and plopping my stuff down. It was Friday night, which meant it was George’s night to cook the family dinner. “Whatcha making?”

  “Baked kibbeh. You remember what that is, don’t you?”

  “Lamb, right?”

  “That’s my girl.” George looked up from the pot he was stirring to give me a proud grin. Nothing made him happier than when I remembered something about his Lebanese heritage or his cooking. With his short crew cut and the white T-shirt he was wearing, he looked like he could be a member of the military. The only thing that spoiled the effect was his apron. Steam wafted up from the stove, fogging his dark eyeglasses.

  “Parents home?”

  “Nah, they’re out shopping with Elias.”

  Elias was George’s younger brother. He was in college, but his mother still took him shopping and bought all his clothes.

  “What’s in the pot?”

  “Lentil soup.” George quit stirring, put the lid on the pot, and turned the burner down to low. He grabbed a manila folder from the kitchen counter and came to where I was standing, giving me a quick kiss on the lips. He tasted like soup. “How was your day?”

  “Oh you know. Met Mom for breakfast. Did a little shopping after.” Flirted with a charmer. “How long ’til dinner? I’m starved.”

  “Not too much longer.” George checked the microwave clock. “The folks should be home in ten minutes or so. In the meantime…” He handed me the folder.

  “What’s this?”

  “Open it.” George pulled me along with him onto the couch, his enthusiasm evident. I peeked into the folder cautiously, afraid it was another mess of receipts he needed me to record. Instead, I pulled out a bunch of photos.

  “What are these?”

  George was grinning. Clearly, he had a thing for abandoned buildings, unless… “Are these possible business locations? Did you find something cute?” I flipped through the photos, but all appeared to be of the same building.

  “Better than that. I bought it.”

  “You what?”

  “I bought it. I couldn’t pass it up. It’s in a great location. Right next to the bowling alley and across from the shopping plaza with the fancy boutique you like.”

  “But I thought you didn’t have the money yet?”

  “I didn’t…I don’t. But the site was too perfect, and Mom wanted me to have it.”

  “So she bought the building?”

  “She did. I’ll have to pay her back of course, but the great thing is now we can open shop much sooner than we’d planned. It will require me working long hours at first. I’m afraid we’ll have to delay our engagement until I can get this off the ground. But you don’t mind, do you?”

  “No…no, I don’t mind. But…” I trailed off, not sure how to put my next thought into words.

  “But what? You don’t like the building?”

  “Oh no. Nothing like that. The building looks fine. It’s… I…well, I would have liked to have been part of the decision. I mean, I know we’re not married yet or anything. But this is kind of a big financial investment. I mean, how much did you…or I mean, your mom, pay for it?”

  “Two hundred thousand dollars,” George said with pride. “And that was a steal. The owners need to sell because the husband’s health isn’t good. If we didn’t snap it up right then and there, someone else would have. You wouldn’t have wanted us to lose out on such a deal all because you weren’t there, would you?”

  I shook my head helplessly. “No, I guess not. But…God…two hundred thousand dollars is a lot of money. I don’t have that much in my 401k.”

  “It is. I know it is. But nothing compared to what other buildings in the area cost. I knew you would understand why we needed to act quickly. I promise I’ll take you around to see it tomorrow. The realtor has given me the lockbox code. I can show you the inside. You’ll love it.”

  The doorbell rattled and in waddled George’s parents, Yasmine and Rami, followed closely by Elias, dressed in blue jeans and a Twenty One Pilots T-shirt. At five-foot-eleven, Elias was by far the tallest member of the Haddad family.

  “George, what are you cooking tonight? Hello, Val… Did George show you the little purchase we made
today?”

  Only Yasmine Haddad, my future mother-in-law, would call a $200,000 building a little purchase. Her hair was in its perpetual topknot, black wisps hanging alongside her face. Often a wisp would enter her mouth while she talked. She wore a red blouse, a long brown skirt, and leather sandals. Her husband, Rami, trailed after her, dressed in his usual black jeans and white cotton shirt. Whenever I looked at him, I could see what George would look like in twenty years.

  “Yes, just now,” I said. “It looks like a nice building.”

  “Nice? Oh, it’s much more than nice,” Rami said, his balding head shiny in the lamplight. “It’s the perfect place for George to open his spice store. And we got a great deal. The Haddads know how to strike a bargain, don’t we, George?”

  George and his dad exchanged high fives, while Yasmine made her way into the kitchen. George dashed inside after her. He hated it when his mom messed with his cooking. Too late, she cracked the oven door. The rich scent of cinnamon and onion wafted into the family room. My mouth watered. George’s cooking was reason enough to love him.

  “Ma, I got it. Why don’t you get everyone seated, and I’ll serve.”

  Ma Haddad settled herself at the kitchen table with a grunt. “Okay, okay. I’m sitting.”

  “I told Val we got it for a steal, Dad,” George called from the kitchen. “She’ll see what I mean when I show her the building tomorrow. Val, come sit with Ma. Dinner’s ready.”

  I followed Elias and Rami into the kitchen, while George served up steaming bowls of soup and set them in front of us.

  “Let’s say grace.” Rami always led the family in prayer before every meal. I wasn’t a prayerful person, having never grown up in a church, but I liked the family atmosphere it evoked and bowed my head dutifully with the others.

  When he finished, Rami dished me a heaping serving of baked kibbeh, which I topped with the yogurt dressing George passed me. Nutmeg and cinnamon blended fragrantly with lemon juice. Diet be damned.

  From the other room, my cell phone beeped. I didn’t dare get up to answer it. George’s parents had a thing about disruptions during the family dinner hour.

  “So, Elias, tell Val who we saw at the mall,” Yasmine said on a slurp of soup. She alternated slurps with a wipe of her napkin.

 

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