by M. J. Pullen
The White Witch was their not-so-affectionate moniker for their horrid neighbor on the next block. Lily had coined the nickname after a nasty run-in about the woman’s oversized white SUV, and it also fit with her long, white-blonde hair and flowing outfits. A few of the neighbors had taken it up privately, too, since no one wanted to get close enough to learn her real name.
“She had the lip ring guy with her again,” Lily went on in triumph. “So, I win the pool. You thought she’d bring home someone new this time. Second date, very exciting. Maybe will have little white spawn egging the house soon.”
Normally, Charlotte looked forward to the latest gossip from the block, but tonight she didn’t care whether the White Witch had run her SUV through their actual house. Couldn’t Lily see there were bigger fish to fry?
“I keep telling you guys,” Charlotte said irritably. “If she’s breaking the rules, you should call the neighborhood patrol. It doesn’t do any good to give her dirty looks and bitch about her on the corner.”
“Jeez. Who peed in your Cheerios?” Lily lifted a proof sheet from the bottom of a pile and squinted at it. “I take it the mystery tycoon was your old friend, then?”
“Oh, God, I’m sorry. It was my Jared. He just put me in a cab.”
Lily looked up, concerned. “You sound completely shredded,” she said. “What the hell happened?”
Charlotte put down the wine and let her head drop into her hands. “Oh, Lils, it was so much worse than I thought it would be, seeing him again. He’s the same Jared, only…hotter, and funnier, and more muscley.”
“And rich,” Lily put in. “That’s gotta hurt.”
“You know I don’t care about that.” Charlotte moaned. “But I wish you could have seen him. It was like we picked up right where we left off, laughing and talking and having a great time.”
“I thought where you left off was with him professing his undying love to you at the end of college, and you stomping on his heart like it was a cockroach?”
“You’re useless at this comforting stuff, you know that?”
“So I’ve been told. It’s why I avoid intimate friendships with other women at all costs.”
Charlotte stuck her tongue out at Lily and stood to get her own wineglass from the kitchen. “It’s not like I never thought about Jared, you know? After Boyd and I split, I mean. But for the first year I was just licking my wounds and wanted nothing to do with anyone who’d known us in college. And then, well. It was already so awkward between us… After that, calling Jared seemed like a cop-out, even as friends, like I was only getting in touch with him because Boyd was gone and I didn’t have any options.”
“And that’s…changed?”
She glared at Lily. “Hey, I do have options! I’m not still the pathetic jilted girl from Georgia who got thrown on her ass by the man she was supposed to marry.”
“It just seems like maybe you’re having feelings for Jared now… I mean, correct me if I’m wrong, but even with my blunted female intuition I can see that you are spinning like the last dreidel of Hanukkah. But he’s about to get married, and you haven’t dated anyone remotely seriously for, what…? Four years? He shows up and after one day with him, you’re mooning like a schoolgirl.”
“One day,” Charlotte murmured. “And one kiss.”
“WHAT?!?” Lily boomed, dropping the proof sheet on the table. “You kissed him? You kissed a Perfect Proposals client while you were planning his engagement? Besides being morally suspect, Ellen will fire your ass in a hot second if she finds out.”
“Technically…he said I was off-duty,” Charlotte said, in the lamest defense ever.
“He said that? When he kissed you? Gross.”
“You’re making it sound all smarmy and weird. It was very sweet. We were at the Piano Bar…”
“Wow, it is serious if you took him there.”
“Shut up. Anyway, we were just out, not planning anymore because every idea I floated for him completely flopped, and it just…happened. I have to say, I think he bears equal responsibility.”
“So, what did he say after this un-smarmy, totally not weird kiss occurred?”
Charlotte bit her lip, wishing for once that her no-nonsense roommate were capable of beating around the bush. Just a little. “He didn’t say anything.”
Lily snorted.
“In his defense, we got interrupted and it was a truly weird situation and…”
“And?”
“He dragged me to a cab and told me to rest up and be prepared to wow him tomorrow.”
“So, let me get this straight…”
“I’d rather you didn’t.”
“Seven years after you broke his heart, you kissed, and then despite your obvious feelings for the guy, he sends you home alone and instructs you to come back and continue planning his engagement to another woman. You must have hurt that dude bad, Charlotte.”
“It wasn’t that bad. And I don’t have feelings for him. We’re old friends.”
“Oh, come on. Any idiot can see it, all over your face.”
“I’m just a little caught off guard, seeing him after all this time. Didn’t you ever feel that way?”
“Don’t try to change the subject.” Lily arched a brow at her. “How many sites did you suggest to him today?”
Charlotte stared at her, not sure how that was relevant. “Twenty, I guess. Twenty-one if you count that terrible nightclub you and Darren like so much.”
“There’s your proof,” Lily said, her cockiness beginning to grate on Charlotte. “You’re Ellen’s go-to girl at Perfect Proposals because you can peg what a client wants before they even know it. I’ve never known you to need more than five options, tops, to give a client what they’re looking for. And those are the pickiest clients.”
Charlotte laughed. “Remember the woman who wanted to propose to her girlfriend while skydiving, but didn’t want the poor girl to know about it in advance?”
“My point exactly. You saved their relationship, and avoided what I’m sure would have been an extremely traumatic airborne incident for everyone involved. And you only had to come up with one alternative to make everyone happy.”
“That was easy, though. I knew the spirit of what she wanted—I just had to figure out how to make it happen. With Jared, it’s different…”
Lily stacked the proof sheets and tucked them into a folder. She picked up her glass and moved to the side of the couch closest to Charlotte. “Babe. Has it occurred to you that there might be a reason this is the only time you’ve had so much trouble finding a proposal spot for someone?”
“Because he’s my friend, and I so desperately want it to be special for him that I’m cracking under the pressure?”
“Or…” Lily said gently, “because you’re secretly hoping if you can’t get it right, it won’t happen at all.”
When Charlotte didn’t answer, her roommate stood and ruffled her hair. “I’m headed up to bed. I do agree with this Jared of yours that you should rest up. You clearly have some things to think about.”
Charlotte picked Jared up in her own car the next day. He was waiting on the curb outside his hotel as instructed, wearing hiking boots and a battered khaki and gray Outdoor Research hat. He had his phone out, but pocketed it immediately when he saw her pull up.
“Morning,” he said as he ducked into her Prius. “You keep a much neater car than you did in college.”
“This is a change of occupational necessity, not personal preference.” She smiled. “Though it is nice not to wonder if I’m really alone in here.”
“So, what’s on tap for today?” He gestured at two bottles of chilled water in the console between them. “Going to make me run laps until I agree to the planetarium?”
Charlotte just smiled, navigating through traffic, until she found an open parking space in front of a pharmacy
on the way out of town.
“I have to be honest, Lotta, the idea that I might need medical supplies for this is both exciting and unnerving.”
“Oh, I have all that in the backseat already.” She put the car in park and gestured at the backpack behind her. “We’re stopping now because we need to talk.”
Jared’s cheerful expression faltered infinitesimally, but he swallowed hard and faced her. “Sure. What’s up?”
She took a deep breath. Be professional. “I need to apologize for what happened last night.”
“Charlotte—”
She held up a hand. “Please. Let me say this, okay? I should never have let things go the way they did. It was completely unprofessional, for one thing, and I’d be fired on the spot if my boss knew what happened. Second, I wasn’t being a very good friend to you. I know I hurt you all those years ago, and you had every right to cut me out of your life—”
“Cut you out? I wouldn’t say—”
“Well. You had every right to be hurt. And while I can’t regret…I made the decision I thought was best at the time, and I hope you forgive me. I hope you understand.”
“Of course, I understand, Lotta—”
“Yesterday you let me back into your life, and you trusted me with one of the most important moments in it, your engagement to your girlfriend, who sounds like a completely lovely person…”
“She is.”
“And I violated that trust by letting my feelings—the moment, I mean—get away with me. It was selfish and I promise it won’t happen again. I would be honored if you would let me continue to help you with this proposal, and if we can move forward as friends. But if my behavior has made things too complicated, I would be happy to refer you to my colleague Owen, who is absolutely excellent and has agreed to take over today if needed.”
“You talked to him already? This colleague of yours?”
“Early this morning. I’ve briefed him on what we did yesterday and the plans for today, and he’s ready to meet us at the head of the Bay Bridge to take over if it would make you more comfortable.”
“So, let me get this straight. If I’m so upset that we shared a tiny drunken kiss last night that I want to fire you, you can hand me off to this Owen guy like a kid whose parents have joint custody, is that right?”
Charlotte stiffened. “That’s not how I would put it, but yes.”
“Did you tell Otis what happened at the bar?”
“Owen. And, no. I hope to avoid that, if possible, but it’s your prerogative if you want to report it.”
“If I want to report… Jesus, Charlotte. I forgot how infuriating you are.” He twisted away and dropped his face into both hands, pushing the cap up on his head.
She could hear him breathing—laughing, maybe—but was too afraid to move. Charlotte wasn’t sure what kind of reaction she’d expected, but this wasn’t it.
He pulled his hands down and composed himself to face her. She could see his effort to stay calm. “You’re done talking now?” he asked, with forced politeness. “It’s my turn?”
“Yes, of course.” Whatever he had to say, she was ready. This was the right thing, for her career and her heart. “I welcome your thoughts.”
“Great. I’m so glad my thoughts are welcome. Because there’s so much bullshit in that speech you just gave, I almost don’t know where to start, but I’ll try.”
“Excuse me…”
“My turn,” he said. “First, I did not ‘cut’ you out of my life after college. I went out on my own, exploring, and I barely kept in touch with my own family, much less my college friends. Yes, it hurt my pride when you rejected my stupid suggestion that we should run away together after graduation, but I got over it. I hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but I didn’t pine for you for years or anything. When I saw you yesterday, I saw the girl who was my friend for four years, not the girl who turned me down on a single drunken night.”
Charlotte deflated at his words. He made it sound so simple, so trivial. Had she imagined all the emotion between them? Was she simply projecting her own regrets?
“Second, while I appreciate your icy professionalism regarding what happened between us last night, I have no intention of reporting you to your employer or letting some dude I’ve never met plan my engagement proposal. Charlotte, it was a kiss. It’s not the end of the world. We were a little toasty, having a good time, and we both let the moment get away from us. And you might want to take all the credit or blame or whatever it is, but I’m not going to let you. You seem to be forgetting that I. Kissed. You.”
He leaned closer for emphasis. “I enjoyed it, actually. Always wondered what that would feel like, and now I know. I’m not going to pretend I’m sorry it happened, even though it sounds like you are.”
“That’s not—”
“Yes, it is. And that’s okay. This doesn’t have to change anything about our friendship or our professional relationship. Shit happens. You fix it and move on. You’ve apologized—I’ve apologized. I have no interest in starting over with Owen or anyone else. We’re cool, okay?”
Charlotte swallowed hard. Jared was angry, she could tell, but she’d never dealt with someone’s anger that didn’t also include threats, recriminations, or simply walking away. Her parents had been soft-spoken and mild-mannered, expressing disappointment in her periodically but never full-throated anger. She seldom had unhappy clients, but when she did, they almost always either demanded something from her or exploded and walked away to start writing a nasty Yelp! review. Jared was staying with her, in the moment, looking her in the eye and telling her how he felt, without holding back or escalating. She had no idea what to do with this.
Finally, she brushed imaginary lint from her shirt and managed, “So you’re game for checking out a new spot with me today?”
“Nothing on earth would make me happier.” His smile was so forced as to actually be funny.
Charlotte pulled into traffic and drove a few blocks toward the Bay Bridge in silence. After a few minutes, she couldn’t resist. “You didn’t, you know.”
“What?” Jared turned from where he’d been staring out the window at the colorful facade of a Chinese restaurant.
“Apologize. You said we both apologized. I did. You didn’t. Not that it matters.”
His laugh was loud and genuine, reverberating through her little car. “Not that it matters,” he echoed. “But I am truly and deeply sorry, Charlotte. For all my sins. And I’m sure you could name most of them.”
She laughed with him. “I’m sure I don’t know the half of it.”
“I’m not so bad,” he said. “I mean, I haven’t spent any time in a monastery since I saw you last or anything, but I don’t think I’d be the worst guy out of any ten.”
“Lucky Brianna,” Charlotte said drily, relieved that they were back to their normal banter. “Getting a guy who’s at least the twentieth percentile.”
“I don’t deserve her, at any rate.” He looked at the road ahead. “I’ve never been confused about that. That’s why we’re doing this.”
“Really?” Her heart constricted at the mention of his future fiancée, but Charlotte had been the one to bring up Brianna, so she couldn’t exactly complain.
“Yeah. My dad always said, when you find a woman who’s a better person than you in every way and still wants to be around you, you’d better hang onto her.”
“I always liked your dad,” Charlotte said, remembering the robust accountant with red cheeks and round glasses. “He’s so different from you.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“Not what I meant!”
“This is definitely going in my Yelp! review.”
Their laughter eased the tension as Charlotte steered them over the bridge to the destination she should’ve thought about yesterday.
Half an hour later, they parked in a
tree-lined gravel lot and Jared got out, stretching. She waited for him to make some kind of joke about proposing in the parking lot (“These rocks are going to be hard on the knees!”) but he just took in the scene, smiling in a way that seemed unconscious. She absolutely should’ve thought of this yesterday. If she hadn’t let him rattle her…hadn’t let her imagination run wild.
Never mind—back on track. “Are you wearing clean socks?” She pulled the backpack with the supplies from the backseat. “If not, I have extras.”
“I’m not even going to ask.” He followed her up a small path between the trees.
“It’s the Iron Horse Regional Trail,” she explained. “Have you been here?”
He shook his head.
“Most people don’t use this entrance; there are bigger parking lots by the major trailheads. But this is closest to the Little Blue Shack.”
“Oh, right. The Little Blue Shack.”
She looked at him, surprised. “You’ve heard of it?”
“No.” He grinned. “It’s just nice, when I’m with you, if once in a while I sound like I know what the hell I’m talking about.”
They emerged next to the Little Blue Shack, which was exactly that—an old metal storage shed, painted blue and festooned with graffiti. A twenty-something guy stood, leaning into the window, talking to someone beneath a RENTALS sign. The Iron Horse, a paved-over railway line, ran beside the shack until it disappeared in both directions. People flew by with bicycles, rollerblades, dogs, and jogging strollers.
“So, what’s your poison?” Charlotte pulled out her Perfect Proposals credit card. “Bikes or rollerblades?”
Jared grinned at her. “Both. Which is better for you?”
“Neither,” she said frankly. “I have no balance whatsoever and I’ll be crap at both.”