I love you. So nice to be able say that whenever I want to now :)
She shot him a quick text back: I love you too. Call me after you’re done with work?
Definitely, he replied.
She had just started to fantasize about sleeping with him later that night and about how much better sex would feel now that they were this emotionally committed, when she heard Rebecca’s footsteps. Snapping out of it, she turned in her chair to face her.
“You won’t believe the sweet text Tim just sent me,” she said. As she held up her phone to show it to her, Rebecca glared back at her, holding something up in her hands.
“So, I knocked your purse over in the kitchen and this fell out . . . I would have thought you’d have chucked this a long time ago, Charli. What are you doing still carrying this around?”
Without even seeing what Rebecca was holding, Charli realized what she must have found: her receipt from Hayden’s with the date and time of her and Jack’s reunion on it, which was just a month away.
“I’ve had that in there since Jack and I made our pact,” she said, trying to play it cool. “It’s no big deal.” She stood up, took the receipt from Rebecca, and went into the kitchen to put it back, hoping that would end the conversation. She did not want to be talking about Jack right now on the heels of her great morning with Tim.
Unfortunately, in true form, Rebecca felt the need to dig deeper.
“Seriously,” she said, following her, “why hold onto it? Just throw it away.”
When Charli didn’t make a move for the trash, Rebecca continued, “Come on. It’s not like you’re planning on showing up for the reunion.”
Charli was silent for one beat too long.
“Oh my gosh,” Rebecca said, pointing her finger at her. “You are!”
Hurrying to defend herself, Charli explained that she didn’t know yet, that she needed more time to decide.
“More time?” Rebecca narrowed her eyes. “What’s that going to do? Your feelings for Tim are as strong as they’re ever going to be, am I right?”
Charli considered that for a minute. “Give or take a little.”
“Okay, so if you can’t say without a doubt that you’d pick Tim over Jack, then I’d say Jack wins. He’s who your heart truly wants.”
“Oh please,” Charli said with a shake of her head, dismissing the accusation as preposterous. “You’re jumping to conclusions.”
“Am I?” Rebecca folded her arms over her chest. “Let’s pretend tomorrow’s the day of the reunion. Can you honestly picture yourself sharing a meal with Tim at a restaurant in Charleston?”
Charli thought about it and then happily told the truth. “Yeah. Actually, I can.”
“Fine,” Rebecca said. “Now tell me this. Can you picture yourself not showing up at Hayden’s? Because that’s the bigger question and one that I think both of us know the answer to.”
Charli could feel herself losing her cool. “This is ridiculous,” she said. “Why are you getting all upset? You’re the one who has encouraged me all along to pursue other relationships despite my feelings for Jack.”
“Because I thought if you put yourself out there, you’d fall so in love with another guy that the thought of going back for Jack wouldn’t even cross your mind. But that’s obviously not what happened. So now I feel like you’re just stringing Tim along.”
“I am not!” Charli said. “I love Tim! Where have you been?”
“I don’t think this is about Tim,” Rebecca said. “I think it has to do with you and Jack and with the fact that in your eyes, the two of you have unfinished business.”
“I can’t believe we’re having this conversation,” Charli muttered.
“I’m sorry. I’m the last person who wants to encourage you to go back for him. I saw you after he broke your heart the first time. I don’t want to see that again. But based on the fact that you’re still hanging onto that receipt and based on your answers to my questions, I think you need to be honest with Tim. Heck, he may be so in love with you, he’ll be willing to take his chances while you play out this pact.”
“No way. I know Tim. He’d tell me it’s either him or the chance of Jack. By being honest, I run the risk of losing both of them, don’t you see? This is easy for you to say because you have nothing to lose. I’m the one who’d have to give up a great guy, maybe for nothing.”
“I’d hardly call taking a shot at true love nothing,” Rebecca said.
Charli went over to the window and pushed it open, needing some fresh air.
Rebecca gave her a minute and then said, “Have you ever thought that you and Jack are . . . I dunno . . . soul mates?”
“Soul mates?” Charli turned toward her, wrinkling her forehead.
“Yeah . . . you know . . . meant for each other.”
“No, I know what it means,” she said. “I just didn’t know you believed in such a thing. I know I did once, but I’m not sure if I still do.”
Rebecca took a few steps toward her, then paused and said, “I’ve never seen someone love another person the way I think you love Jack. I mean seriously, it’s almost been five years and a part of you is still hung up on him. If soul mates do exist, I think that’s what you two are.”
Charli felt the wave of emotions that she’d been suppressing ever since she got Jack’s letter begin to rise to the surface. She did her best to fight them back as Rebecca went on.
“Soul mates are drawn together against all odds, and the odds have been against you and Jack this whole time. Think about it. Your careers pulled you to opposite ends of the country, which would have made most couples call it quits right then, but you two got creative. You made this interesting pact. Then Jack wrote you a letter that should have made you hate his guts or at least not trust him, but you never really changed your opinion of him. And on top of all that, you’re in love with someone else, and you’re still curious about a future with Jack. To me that means something. Like . . . like . . . there’s some powerful force that keeps saying you two should be together. A force that you keep trying to ignore but that won’t let you.”
Charli was really fighting back tears now because what Rebecca was saying was resonating.
“Jack’s probably not going to show up,” she said. “You said it yourself when I got his letter.”
“I know, but on some level you must obviously think he might. Otherwise you would have told me that you weren’t thinking about going back at all. And you would have gotten rid of that receipt a long time ago. I know it’s scary. But as your friend, I have to encourage you to follow your heart. That’s what you made me do, and look how happy I am.”
“Tim makes me happy,” Charli said, desperate to keep the option of staying with him on the table.
“But think long term here. Who would make you the happiest for the rest of your life?”
“I don’t know.”
“You do,” Rebecca said. “You just don’t want to admit it to yourself. I know breaking up with Tim will hurt, but I’m sure you’ll recover from it. What I’m afraid you won’t recover from is the regret you’ll feel if you don’t show up for that reunion.”
Rebecca reached out and took Charli’s hands in hers. “Charli, you’re too young to start living with ‘what if’s.’”
Although it killed Charli to have this thought, the idea of finding another man she loved as much as Tim did seem possible. She wasn’t quite as sure she’d ever find someone who made her feel the way Jack once had. Still, she couldn’t just recklessly follow her heart.
“You’re asking me to just throw all logic out the window,” she said, feeling the tears start to well up in her eyes, knowing that Rebecca was right, realizing what this meant, what she’d have to do.
“I know.” Rebecca put her hands on Charli’s shoulders. “For once in your life, I think you should let all logic go.”
twenty-four
NOW
PETER WAS STANDING beside the butcher-block table when Gianna tent
atively opened the kitchen door and stepped inside. He had on a blue button-down shirt, the checkered tie she got him last Christmas, and a heavy dose of his Calvin Klein cologne.
“Gianna.” He said her name with a smile in his voice.
“Hi Peter,” she said, her voice cracking.
Her kitchen staff had stopped what they were doing and were all watching them. Gianna felt like she might faint. Actually . . . maybe fainting wasn’t such a bad idea . . . Passing out would postpone this whole thing.
Peter took a few steps toward her so that he was standing in front of her.
“Gianna,” he said again.
Oh God . . .
She tried to give him an I’ve-waited-for-this-moment-for-so-long grin but couldn’t manage one when inside she was screaming, “Shit! Shit! Shit!”
He drew in a deep breath and then dropped down to one knee and took her cold, shaky, hand in his.
“Wait!” she wanted to yell. “Stop! Give me another week or two to come up with an answer.”
But no words came out of her mouth.
Only Peter managed to find something to say. “From the moment I saw you—” he started, launching into what was clearly a well-rehearsed proposal speech.
Gianna listened, wide-eyed, to him put into words how he felt about her, and as wonderful as it was to hear how much he adored her, the whole time she couldn’t shake the terrible feeling that she didn’t care for him as much as he cared for her. That she didn’t love him as deeply as she should have.
But God she wanted that not to be the case!
Was it possible that the spark she felt was missing would still materialize? She could try to crank up the romance in their relationship by renting a cabin at the coast and buying some sexy lingerie. Or by taking him wine tasting in Napa for a weekend, just the two of them. Maybe there was still a chance to make this work. Did she have to throw in the towel right this second?
Peter let go of her hand then and reached into his pocket to fish out the ring. When he popped open the box she gasped, pretending as if she hadn’t seen it before.
“Wow, Pete.”
“You like it?” he asked.
Gianna nodded. “Stunning.”
“Well, you deserve the best, sweetheart. I just wanted to give it to you.”
Oh, he was wonderful! How could she say no to him? She should have been counting her blessings that a man this terrific was even in her life, let alone down on a bended knee in front of her.
Peter cleared his throat. Gianna’s heart felt like it was going to burst out of her chest as the words to that question she didn’t know the answer to formed on the tip of his tongue. But just as he was about to get them out, Barbara burst into the room, her bouncy red curls coming in behind her. “Gianna, Gianna!” she called.
Gianna had never been so happy to hear her own name or see one of her servers in her life.
Everyone in the room looked over.
It didn’t take Barbara long to realize what she’d just interrupted. “Oh no! I’m so sorry.”
“So am I,” said Peter with a slight laugh as he wiped a bead of sweat off of his forehead with the back of his hand. “Could you walk out and come back in two minutes, hon?”
“No! Wait. What is it?” Gianna practically yelled, surprising everyone, especially Peter, who looked up at her.
“Gianna,” Peter said, “we’re sort of in the middle of something.”
“Look, she obviously has something really important to say.”
“So do I!” Peter remarked, the veins in his forehead popping.
“Just give me one minute.” She bent down and kissed the top of Peter’s head, feeling terribly guilty. But Barbara had just bought her that extra time that she desperately needed, and Gianna couldn’t let her get away.
All of her staff started to talk among themselves, gossiping about Gianna’s decision to speak with Barbara.
“What is it?” Gianna asked. She prayed that whatever it was, it would require her to leave the kitchen immediately and keep this proposal on pause.
“Really, I can come back,” Barbara said.
“No. Just tell me what’s going on.”
Nodding, Barbara said, “Charli’s here!”
“What?” Gianna went to peek out the window, but Barbara grabbed her arm. “There’s something else . . . ”
“What?” From the tone of her voice, she knew it wasn’t good.
“I found this.” She pulled a crumpled piece of paper out of her back pocket and handed it to Gianna. “I’m sorry. I saw it and thought I needed to show it to you.” She handed over the slip of paper. “You know that His and Hers cake that looks like a tuxedo and wedding gown in the fridge?”
“Yes,” Gianna said. She’d gotten a glimpse of it earlier when she was grabbing a bottle of Chardonnay but had thought nothing of it. Private party cake orders were filled early in the morning by two of her pastry chefs, Jill and Kaylan, and then taken to the venues throughout the day and evening by Bob, her delivery guy. Gianna hardly dealt with them.
“Okay, well that cake is about to be delivered to this person,” Barbara said, pointing to the name on the order form. “I saw it sitting on the dessert counter waiting for Bob to come in and pick it up.”
Gianna read it. Blinked. Read it again.
“That’s his name, right?” Barbara asked.
Gianna nodded, at a loss for words.
“That’s what I thought,” Barbara said, her shoulders sinking. “It might be a coincidence, right? Someone else in this city could have the same name as him?”
“I guess,” Gianna said. “But that would be a big coincidence considering the cake has a mint torte base, and that’s the cake he always used to order.”
“So that would mean he’s . . . ”
“Yes,” Gianna said, equally disappointed. She stared at it for another minute regretting that she’d prayed for an excuse to leave the room. She would have almost rather stood before Peter again and been forced to make a decision about marrying him than to deal with this. “Thank you for letting me know,” she finally said.
The room started to quiet down. Everyone was growing curious about what it was that Barbara had shown Gianna. Gianna turned toward them to fill them in.
“I’m sorry everyone—Peter especially—but I need all of you to excuse me for a minute. Charli has just arrived, and I need to speak with her as soon as possible.” She held up the rehearsal dinner order form Barbara had given her for everyone to see. “Jack will not be showing up tonight. He is marrying someone else.”
—
THE MINUTE GIANNA stepped out of the kitchen, Valerie jumped on her. “Where’s the ring?” she exclaimed, reaching for her left hand.
“I don’t have it.”
“What do you mean you don’t have it?”
“Barbara came in and told me Charli just showed up and then informed me that she’d found this.” She handed over the order form with Jack’s name on it. It hadn’t occurred to Gianna until that moment just how invested she was in both Charli and Jack’s return. It was as if some part of her—deep down—had been thinking all evening that if Charli and Jack did come back, then nothing was impossible when it came to love—even meeting someone better suited for her than Peter. But now it was hard to feel that way, and although that made her decision tonight easier, it also made her sad.
Valerie scoffed when she handed the paper back. “You want to tell me why you think her relationship is more important right now than your own?”
“I don’t think it’s more important,” Gianna stressed, deciding that now was not the time to get into her insecurities about marrying Peter. “It’s just that I’m at work, and Charli’s my customer. I can’t let her get stood up while I’m in the kitchen celebrating my engagement with Peter.”
“Actually, you can.”
“Valerie, come on.” Couldn’t she sympathize with her situation a little?
Valerie sighed deeply. “Peter was so nervous abou
t tonight, Gianna. He called me like six times this morning, freaking out.”
“Look, I know it wasn’t the best way to handle it.” Gianna did feel bad for Peter, and she realized what she’d done wasn’t going to win her the best girlfriend of the year award. “But if you’d just let me go now, I can tell Charli the bad news and then get back in there.”
Valerie tapped her foot impatiently on the floor.
“Why don’t you go keep Peter company?” Gianna suggested. “Put someone else on your tables for a bit.”
Valerie didn’t look crazy about the idea, but finally she extended her arm like she was a gatekeeper who, after interrogation, was going to let Gianna pass. Gianna started to walk but Valerie reached out and put her hand on her shoulder.
“Gianna,” she said.
“Yes?”
“Peter was so nervous about tonight.”
“I get it,” Gianna said, swallowing the giant lump in her throat.
—
AS GIANNA WALKED toward Charli’s table, Charli caught her eye, smiled, and waved.
Wow, she certainly looks glamorous, Gianna thought.
Her brown hair was curled and draped her shoulders, and her makeup was subtle but purposeful—a hint of blush, a touch of mascara, and what looked like rose-colored lipstick. She wore a fitted white dress that didn’t scream, “I tried too hard,” but that would have definitely made Jack’s jaw drop if he had been planning on showing, and she had on a pearl necklace to top the ensemble off. As Gianna got closer, she could see that Charli was fingering the pearls one at a time as if her necklace were a rosary and she imagined her silently praying, “Let Jack come back, let Jack come back.”
Suddenly Gianna thought she might chicken out. She didn’t want to bear this bad news, but if she didn’t, who would? Maybe Jack. What if he was planning on showing up at seven, right before his rehearsal dinner, and telling Charli he was getting married, himself? Should she wait and see if that happened before she went ahead and showed Charli this order form?
She stuffed it into her pocket when she got to Charli’s table, deciding it was best to hide it until she’d made up her mind.
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