by Gina Hummer
“I can make you some eggs.”
Charlotte shook her head. “No thanks.”
“I think there’s a box of muffins in the pantry.”
“I’m not really hungry.”
“I don’t like things being so stiff between us.”
Charlotte drew circles on the counter with her fingers. “Me neither. But it is what it is.”
“How do we fix this?”
“I already told you.”
“You know William has me booked for a few meetings today, but I can cancel. We can hop on the bike, head to the beach…”
“I’ve actually got a lot of work to do today, so you should keep your meetings.”
David’s face fell, and he nodded, quiet for a moment. “Yeah, okay. I’ll let you get to it then.”
“Thanks.”
David’s gaze lingered on Charlotte before he quietly went outside to wait for the car that ferried him around town. Charlotte sipped her coffee in silence, the tension in her shoulders sliding away with each swallow. She took her time showering and dressing, afraid almost to get on with the business of the day. She opened her laptop and stared, lost in the black-and-white photo of the Eiffel Tower that was her desktop picture. Charlotte chewed on her thumbnail for a bit before she slammed the lid shut and grabbed her purse.
What the hell good is it to work for yourself if you can’t play hooky once in a while? She queried herself as she put her sunglasses on. She stepped outside into another postcard-beautiful Southern California day. Feeling better already, Charlotte walked to her Jeep, keys jangling between her fingers. She’d put the key in the lock when she heard a clicking sound. Charlotte stopped and listened. Click, click, click. There it was again. She whipped her head around and saw a photographer draped in camera equipment standing at the edge of her driveway, snapping away. Charlotte gasped and ducked into the Jeep, her heart pounding. She started the Jeep and screeched backward, trying to shield her face with one hand and maneuver the steering wheel with the other.
“Hey, come on, Charotica! Why don’t you smile for the camera?” the intruder yelled into the open window.
The invocation of the hated “Charotica” blew Charlotte’s top sky high. “Hey asshole! This is private property!” she screamed as the guy jammed his camera in her face, her sunglasses no match for the glare of camera flashes.
“I’m standing in the street, so that’s public property. What time is David getting home, huh? How long you guys been shackin’ up?”
Charlotte growled and peeled off down the street. She put her hand over her heart to try to slow its zealous rhythm. She took a deep breath, her mind racing with all sorts of sinister possibilities. How long had paparazzi been staking out her house? How on earth did they know where she lived? Charlotte turned on the radio, jacking it up to near ear-splitting levels.
If only drowning her feelings was as easy as listening to music.
CHAPTER 12
“Where’ve you been? I thought you had a lot of work to get through today.”
“I spent the afternoon at Santa Monica Pier. Went to the aquarium, checked out a photography exhibit. Had lunch.”
“Oh. Was it fun?”
Charlotte nodded and put her purse and keys on the coffee table and sat on the chair opposite the couch where David had been sitting, watching TV.
David turned the TV off and looked at her. “Charlotte, sweetheart. Talk to me. I hate it when you’re mad at me.”
“I’m not mad. I’m just…disappointed.”
“God. That’s worse.”
“David, one of the things I love most about you is how big your heart is. I mean, when I was walking around the pier today, I was thinking about when we were at the lake and how…accommodating you were. Wanting to know more about everyone, cooking and cleaning and just being so…decent.”
“You make it sound like I’ve got a disease or something.”
“No, David; nothing like that. It’s just that I hate to see you being taken advantage of, and that’s exactly what Olivia is doing ---- taking advantage of your big, wonderful open heart, and I’m just disappointed that you’re letting her.”
David reached for Charlotte’s hand and pulled her over to join him on the couch. He kissed her on the nose.
“I don’t want this to come between us.”
“David, I think you need to work out whatever it is with her. Figure it out.”
David pulled back. “What do you mean ‘figure it out’? What are you saying?”
Before Charlotte could answer, her BlackBerry started to ding from deep inside her purse. She rolled her eyes.
“Hold on. My editor’s been texting me all day. Let me see what she wants.”
David sighed and waited while Charlotte pulled out her phone. It was a message from Karen:
“Having a bad day Charotica? xoxo”
Charlotte clicked on the link Karen had sent and groaned. It was the picture of her from this morning when she yelled at the paparazzo---- mouth agape, nostrils flaring, fury seared into her forehead.
“CHAROTICA ---- HOPPIN’ MAD!” the headline screamed. The ensuing story speculated that David must have done something to unleash Charlotte’s wrath but didn’t say what, of course. Charlotte threw the BlackBerry aside, disgusted.
“What’s the matter?”
“There was a photographer outside the house this morning, and he took a really bad picture of me screaming at him to get lost. And now of course it’s all over the Internet.”
“Damn. Sorry.”
Charlotte rubbed her eyes and took a deep breath, suddenly too tired to move. “David, I need a little time to myself.”
“What?” David said, shocked and angry.
“There’s just so much to deal with between Olivia and the tabloids every time I turn around...”
David shook his head. “No. Charlotte, please. I already told you, I can walk away from all of this, but I can’t walk away from you.”
“I just need to get my head together. That’s all.”
“Don’t do this. Please.”
Charlotte’s blinked, and a tear ran down her face. She ran her palm against her cheek to stop the flow. “I’m going to take a shower and go to bed.” Charlotte rose from the couch, and David tugged on her hand, his fear radiating with each touch.
“So that’s it? We can’t talk about this some more?”
“I’m just so tired, David.”
Without another word Charlotte began to walk back toward the bathroom when David ran up behind her and grabbed her by the waist. He nuzzled her neck, and Charlotte intuitively leaned back against him. David began to rub Charlotte’s breast, and she moaned. His hand flicked over the top button of her jeans for a moment before he undid them and slid his hand into her underwear. Charlotte whimpered as he fingered her, pulling her against him. He turned her around and pressed her against the wall. He grabbed her lips with his, his hands stroking her nipples until they became stiff as diamonds beneath his frenetic touch. Charlotte flung his shirt over his head and did the same with her shirt before unhooking her bra, leaving the cups to flap around the sides. She guided David’s mouth to her breast, and David whimpered as his tongue made contact with her nipple. He stopped for a moment to push her jeans and underwear to the floor, commanding her to step out of them. His lips finding hers again, he unzipped his jeans and pushed them and his underwear down in one swift motion. David flicked one of Charlotte’s legs up and lifted her to meet him. As he plummeted into her, she screamed. He grunted as he continued his upward thrusts into Charlotte.
“I need you, Charlotte.” David panted into her ear.
Charlotte gulped and closed her eyes, letting the moment carry her away. She held David to her, too overcome to say anything. She felt the swell rush forth and clenched as it broke free. Within seconds, David, too tensed up and burst inside of her. They stood there for a few seconds, holding each other before David eased out of Charlotte. He pulled up his pants and handed Char
lotte her shirt.
“I’m sorry,” he said sheepishly. “I shouldn’t have done that. Especially when you said you needed space. I just needed you.”
Charlotte pulled David to her and drew him into a kiss. “I wasn’t complaining.”
David touched his forehead to Charlotte’s. “I’ll call William. Stay with him. You take all the time you need,” he whispered.
They kissed again. “You’re amazing,” she said.
David shook his head. “No, I’m not. Everything in me is screaming to stay, but I’ll respect your wishes.”
“Thank you.”
“And no matter what, just don’t forget that I love you.”
“I know. I love you too.”
#
Charlotte tossed the towels from the bathroom into the laundry basket. She purposely didn’t look at David’s side of the counter, which he had depleted of his most basic toiletries the night before when he left for William’s: toothbrush, shaving gel, comb. A half-full bottle of Hugo Boss still stood guard over his mouthwash, razor cartridges, and the industrial- size bottle of body lotion Charlotte had picked up for him at the drug store. She went around the bedroom, plucking forlorn socks, shorts, and tee-shirts from all sorts of nooks and crannies. One thing she would say about David: housekeeping wasn’t his strong suit.
She was about to head to the washer when she snapped her fingers and went behind the bathroom door in search of her terry-cloth bathrobe. Her heart stopped when she spied one of David’s plaid shirts keeping the bathrobe company on the next hook. Charlotte dropped the laundry basket and reached out to the shirt, tears stabbing her eyes. She laughed. Why was this stupid shirt of all things making her cry? She reached out to touch it. The soft, worn fabric felt lush between her fingers, and Charlotte edged her nose beneath the folds to inhale David’s lingering scent. She unhooked the shirt and slid one arm and then the other into the limp sleeves, David suddenly all around her. Even though she’d asked him to leave, she missed him, missed him so much that it squeezed her insides and caused her to gasp from the pain. Charlotte grabbed a tissue from the box on the counter, dabbed at her eyes, and blew her nose. She picked up her basket and headed to the laundry room.
#
Charlotte swirled her spoon into the pint of soupy strawberry ice cream before she extracted a frozen chunk of fruit and popped it in her mouth. It had been almost two days since David’s departure, and for almost two days, Charlotte had puttered around the house and slept in his plaid shirt. It was no longer awash in David’s musk but rather in Charlotte’s funk. The TV was on a low hum, and Charlotte had been mindlessly flipping through the channels for the better part of the evening. She slurped up the rest of the ice cream and put the empty carton on the coffee table. She picked up the remote again and stopped when Olivia’s face filled the screen. She was being interviewed by someone on the red carpet. Charlotte turned the sound up.
“Well, Olivia, we know you just completed ‘Black Knight, Dark Knight,’ which comes out next year, but we just got word today that you’re going to star in the new romantic comedy being directed by Lowell Henderson, which is quite a departure from the horror and action flicks you’re known for. Why the change?”
“Because I’m funny!” (Both women chuckled as if Olivia had just told the most hilarious joke in the world). “No, seriously; I’ve always wanted to do comedy and work with Lowell, so this is the best of both worlds. And you know, I want to do all types of roles, not just be known for one thing.”
“Now, we know you and David King had tried to work things out, didn’t last, and that he’s moved on. What about you? Who are you getting romantic with these days, Olivia?”
Olivia smiled and winked. “Oh, Sherry, I don’t kiss and tell, but hey, if I ever do decide to tell, I’ve got you on speed dial!” (Both women laughed again as if Olivia was the wittiest female to ever walk the earth.)
The scene cut back to an anchor in the studio.
“And in addition to all her work on the silver screen, that Olivia Hudson has just signed a multi-million dollar, multi-year deal to be the face of Chelsea Cosmetics. Congratulations to her. Up next, we’ll give you an inside view of George Clooney’s fabulous Italian villa.”
Charlotte clicked off the TV. She wondered if Olivia was Irish, because she sure had their luck. Charlotte got off the couch, restless. She paced each room of her house, twisting her engagement ring around her finger. It seemed like she and David had overcome so much in such a short amount of time. She knew David loved and adored her; she felt the same way about him. But love wasn’t always enough. Charlotte meandered into her bedroom, and her eye fell upon the small black gift box David had given her for her birthday. Charlotte swallowed and picked it up with trembling fingers. The tiny piece of paper was still wedged inside, the folds fuzzy with wear. She opened it and smiled.
“I love you,” she whispered. Charlotte refolded it and used the hem of David’s shirt to swab a tear. She ambled to the bathroom and turned on the shower.
Maybe love was enough.
#
“Who is it?”
“It’s Charlotte.”
Silence.
“Just a second.”
Charlotte looked around and fingered the frayed strap of her black straw purse. The door swung open and there stood Olivia, blonde hair streaming down her shoulders in careless waves, brown eyes wide with curiosity, the aroma of gardenias wafting around her.
“What are you doing here?” she asked in that smoky voice that didn’t quite jibe with her Barbie Doll looks.
“Can I come in?”
Olivia gestured for Charlotte to enter, and she shut the door. Charlotte saw several suitcases scattered around the room in various states of packing or unpacking---- she wasn’t sure which.
“I’d ask you if you want something to drink, but David said no booze.” Charlotte flinched and Olivia shrugged. “Bad joke. Have a seat.”
Charlotte perched on the one corner of the room that was clear, the plush champagne-colored chair near the window. Olivia picked up a bottle of water from the nightstand and shoved a suitcase aside before sitting down. Charlotte cleared her throat as Olivia stared at her, slurping her water.
“You’re probably wondering why I’m here.”
“I think that’s fairly obvious. You want to talk about David.”
Charlotte forced a smile, wondering if this had been a good idea after all. “Right. Um. Well. You know that we’re engaged.”
“Right.”
“And, I, well, I’m just trying to understand what the deal is with you two,” Charlotte blurted out.
Olivia looked at Charlotte for a few moments before she flipped a chunk of glorious blonde tresses over her shoulder. “Okay. David and I met. We hit it off, and we dug each other.”
“And?”
Olivia swished some water around her mouth before she swallowed. “The truth is, I was head-over- heels in love with David. Stupid in love. And he didn’t feel the same way. But I didn’t want to accept that. And yeah, I did some crazy stuff. You gonna tell me you’ve never tried to get a guy back even after he said he didn’t want you?”
Charlotte looked up at the ceiling and chuckled, a long-forgotten memory struggling to the surface.
“There was this one guy, in college. He was in my philosophy 101 class. He smelled like suntan lotion and cherry lip balm. Anyway, we were paired up as part of the same study group, and we spent hours discussing philosophy. I was enthralled by his arguments for free will versus determination. One thing led to another and we slept together. Only, he wasn’t all that interested and I did some pretty stupid things to try to get his attention back on me.” Charlotte raised an eyebrow. “So, yeah, I guess I can understand that you did some wild things to get David back.”
“Maybe you and I are more alike than we realize.”
“Except you like to manipulate people.”
Olivia cocked her head to the side and narrowed her eyes at Charlotte. “Well
, you just cut right to the chase, don’t you? I admit at first I wanted to get him back. Then I wanted to torture him for not wanting me. Then I needed his help. And he’s just so fucking upstanding that of course he wanted to do what he could to help me. He’s a giver, if you haven’t noticed.”
“You needed his help with the drugs.”
“Yeah. The drugs. Look---- it’s the same sad story we’ve all heard about a million times. My mom was loony tunes and my dad split when I was eight, except that he wasn’t my biological dad, and my mom has no idea who the winner is on that one though she had no less than six boys running the race. I never had anyone to take care of me. I left home when I was fifteen to live with my alkie aunt. It was only when some photographer caught me trying to steal some cheese and bread at a 7-11 when I was sixteen did I get a break. He turned out to be some big-time guy. He took a few pictures, sent them to a few agencies. Boom. I’m a model. And it went on from there. He’s also the same asshole who introduced me to coke.”
“And you got hooked.”
“Yep, I got hooked. And I meet David, and he’s kind and caring and amazing. Absolutely amazing. And damn, it hurt like hell that he didn’t love me. That he didn’t want to take care of me. When was it gonna be my turn?”
Charlotte nodded, suddenly beginning to understand the motivation behind Olivia’s antics. She was still a scared and lonely little girl who just wanted to be loved.
“I tried and tried to get him back, to make him understand how much I needed him. And then I found out from a paparazzo that he was living with you and, yeah, I wanted to push his buttons by saying I wanted to stay with you. And…I did try and get him into bed the night he checked me in here.”
Charlotte’s heart stopped. “You did?”
“If he could have punched me, I think he would have. He told me he was crazy in love with you. God. He wouldn’t shut up talking about you.” Olivia’s voice quivered. “He talked about you the way I always wanted him to talk about me.”
Charlotte unconsciously fingered her engagement ring. “You still love him.”