by Karen Booth
“It’s still attention, darling. I’ll take what I can get from you.”
“Oh, please. You get all the attention you need and more. Every time I see you, I’m surprised a gaggle of women aren’t following you like stray puppies.”
“Is that what a group of women are called? A gaggle? Like geese?”
“It’s better than calling them a murder, as in a murder of crows.”
“True. Gaggle is much more kind.” He pulled back the sleeve of his wool overcoat and consulted his watch. It was nearly seven thirty. He really needed to start working less and getting home earlier. “Are we going for that walk or what?”
Charlotte bounced Thor in her arms. “What do you say, buddy? A walk with Abby?”
“Just no canine fornication, mimed or otherwise.”
“I’ll have to change.” She looked down at herself, and her blouse flopped back, revealing the line of her collarbone. Maybe it was the way the light in the hall was hitting her skin, maybe it was the fact that he was lonely and tired or maybe it was that Charlotte had an inexplicable hold on him. That one innocent vision sent his imagination flying off on all sorts of tangents, each involving his clothes and hers mingling on the floor of his bedroom.
“Meet back here in five?” He cleared his throat if only to right his mind.
“Make it ten.” With that, she sauntered toward her apartment, skirt in full sway.
He keyed into his apartment. Abby was waiting for him at the door, wagging her tail and following his every move through the foyer. “Hold on, sweets. I need a minute.” He dropped his keys on the hall table and hung up his coat and laptop bag. The trip to his bedroom to change into track pants and a sweatshirt was quick. He grabbed his black fleece jacket and clipped on Abby’s leash. The forecast was for snow this evening, so he grabbed a hat and gloves, too. He’d learned that Abby had no patience for wearing a dog sweater, but that was probably because she liked to walk at a clip and that kept her body temperature up.
They met Charlotte and Thor at the elevator. She’d changed into jeans and boots, wearing the blue wool coat she’d been wearing the other day when they were at Sawyer’s office. It did the most amazing things for her eyes—they were always a rather piercing blue, but now they were even more vivid and breathtaking.
They rode the elevator while the dogs sniffed each other, Thor waging the most eager inspection. Despite the more negative parts of his history with Charlotte, he did appreciate that they could be quiet together without it growing awkward or painful. The elevator came to its graceful stop on the ground floor, and they walked the dogs through the lobby and out onto the street. The night air was ice-cold and clear, but calm—perfect for a brisk walk. They headed west toward the Hudson River greenway, away from the crowds they’d find if they traveled east toward Times Square.
“Smells like snow.” Michael grew up in Maryland, so he’d lived through his fair share of snowstorms.
“I hope so. I love it,” Charlotte replied, inhaling deeply. “Which is weird because I generally hate the cold. Maybe it’s a Christmas thing.”
“I can see that. A reminder of family time and presents under the tree?”
She laughed quietly. “Maybe the part about presents and trees. I avoid most reminders of family time. It doesn’t always bring up the best memories.”
Many of Michael’s family remembrances were unhappy, too. His brother was the only bright spot in most of them. “You and Sawyer seem close. He really put himself on the line when he gave you half of my listings. I could’ve made it ugly if I’d wanted to.”
“You made it a little bit ugly, remember?”
“What? By sticking up for myself and reminding him of what we’d already agreed to? That’s not ugly. That’s my whole day.” Today had been particularly bad. Most of the time, he loved his job. It was the closest he’d get to the adrenaline rush of competition. But today, he’d had to remind himself that he had Abby and this walk waiting for him when he got home. It was the only thing that had kept him going.
“Okay, tough guy. I get it.” Charlotte flipped up the collar of her coat as they crossed at the corner to the wide pedestrian-and-bike path along the Hudson River. “As far as Sawyer goes, we’re pretty close, but not like he and Noah. Those two are really close, but they had a different childhood than I did. My father always worshipped them. Well, at least until Sawyer inherited the hotel and decided to go against my dad’s wishes. Noah sided with Sawyer and that’s when things went south. Unfortunately, for me, my relationship with my dad has always been bad.”
Michael’s father was blustery and intense, not the slightest bit pleasant. He didn’t talk about him, though, not even to someone like Charlotte, who he knew quite well. He never saw the point. Discussing him felt like it gave his dad even more power over him. He wouldn’t allow that anymore. He’d done his time. “I don’t get that, though. You’re the only girl. Don’t dads love their daughters and want to protect them?”
“Maybe if they aren’t the family screwup. My dad seems to view me as nothing more than a liability. Maybe if I was more successful at something he might think otherwise.”
Michael remembered how eager Charlotte had been the first time he’d met her, when she’d come in to interview for a position in his agency. He’d never before encountered someone quite so desperate to work for him, although there were a lot of people who would do a lot for a spot on his team. He’d hated telling her no, but he knew from their earliest conversations that he’d struggle to reprimand her or push her to meet her sales quota. There was something about Charlotte that revealed a soft spot in him, one he’d never even known he had before he met her. The idea of delivering bad news to her was duly unpleasant. Probably why he’d merely paved the way for their breakup, rather than pulling the plug himself. He’d figured he’d let her walk away with some sense of control and her pride intact.
“You’ll be successful, Charlie. You just need to hit your stride.”
“So says the guy who has been hitting his stride since he was ten years old.”
She wasn’t wrong, but it wasn’t as effortless as she made it sound. He hadn’t just worked hard, he’d suffered—there was an awful lot of mental anguish wrapped up in succeeding on the highest levels. There were certainly days when he’d wondered if it had all been worth it. The high of those big achievements never lasted, and the crash that followed them was often devastating. “How are things going with your side of our friendly wager?”
“I told you I’m not racing with you. I’ll never win.”
“First off, you don’t know that. Second, something tells me that if you did sell out first, you’d rub it in my face for all eternity.”
A sheepish smile crossed her lips. “Okay. Fine. I guess we’re racing, but I’m only agreeing to that because I contracted my first unit today. After only one showing, I’ll have you know. It’s the one time in my life I’ve had a perfect record at something. It won’t last, of course. Somebody’s going to bail on me at some point.”
“I don’t know. These are hot properties. In theory, they should sell themselves.”
“I’d like to think I had a little something to do with it.”
“I’m sure you did.”
“And what about you? Had any luck yet?”
It was an unfamiliar reaction, but he really wanted to deflect. He didn’t want to be winning. “Two. But we’ll see how it goes. I’d say it’s anyone’s game at this point.”
Charlotte came to a halt. Thor kept going until his leash went taut. He rounded back to her and yipped.
“Everything okay?” Michael asked.
She looked up at the sky for a moment. Now that they were out of the forest of buildings and right by the water, you could at least see a few stars. Not many—there were too many lights for that. The cold had turned her face into an adorable patchw
ork of bright pink and creamy ivory. “I’m fine. I forget that I’m going up against the inimitable Michael Kelly. There’s a reason my brother wanted you selling the condos.”
He grasped her arm. “Don’t you dare let this discourage you.”
“I’m not. It’s just...” She again stared off, this time out over the water, an inky mystery in the dark. She was so beautiful it was hard not to stare. But it was about more than her sweet lips or the blush of her cheeks. He’d learned in real estate, a vocation where you must become an expert in observing behavior, that most people lived in either the eye of the storm or the heart of it. Not Charlotte. She somehow managed to inhabit both at the same time. She was ironclad, and she was a marshmallow. Indestructible on the outside, but impossibly soft to the touch.
He stepped close enough that the white puffs of her breath in the cold reached his cheeks. A snowflake landed on her nose, instantly melting and leaving behind a shiny spot. He reached out and wiped it off with his glove. “It’s just what?” The snow was coming more steadily now, and another flake landed on her, this time on her eyelash. It didn’t melt, it just fluttered away when she blinked.
“I don’t want to talk about it, okay? I have to stop thinking of every little hiccup as if it’s an actual setback. Sometimes things are just a blip on the map.”
She was upset that he was one more unit ahead. He wasn’t going to apologize, but at least he knew how she felt. So often in their relationship he’d had a hard time arriving at what she was saying or what she wanted. It was only since running into her at Sawyer’s office that he’d started to understand that it might have helped his case if he’d done a better job paying attention.
“You’re right. No big deal.”
She turned to him and smiled. “Shall we head back? I love the snow, but it’s really starting to come down. I’m sure you have other things you need to get to tonight.”
The only thing he really wanted to get to was Charlotte. Standing there in the cold, in the dark, with a front-row view of her beautiful blend of strength and fragility, he wanted nothing more than to get lost in her. And maybe now was the time to test the waters. She wasn’t mad at him right now. Or at least not that much.
He poked his hand through the loop of Abby’s leash and cupped both sides of Charlotte’s face. Her eyes popped wide. Her lower lip dropped. He didn’t wait for anything else. His mouth fell on hers, just a delicate brush of a kiss at first, but warmth quickly bloomed between them. The softness of the kiss was a brilliant counterpoint to everything around them—the hard edges of the city, the loud noises, the too-bright lights. She leaned into him, pressed her chest against his, stoking the fire. Heat built as her lips parted and she turned her head to be closer. For an instant, it was like the breakup had never even happened. She was his again.
Until she wasn’t.
* * *
Charlotte wrenched her lips from Michael and turned away. “No. We can’t. We shouldn’t.” Funny how every word she sputtered contradicted what her body wanted, but she couldn’t let him start something she wasn’t prepared to finish. The old Charlotte would throw caution to the wind and worry about the consequences later, but with a baby in the mix, she couldn’t afford to complicate things with Michael. Things were going to get messy enough when she finally told him.
“I’m sorry.” He reached for her. His breath was jagged, coming out of him in fits and stops.
She could hardly look at him. His face made her want to do foolish things. “You shouldn’t have done that. You and I are not a couple. We have no business kissing. It’s just going to make things more confusing between us.”
“I don’t understand what exactly is so confusing. We broke up, Charlotte. Sometimes people get back together.”
This was her opportunity to tell him, and the words were tumbling in her mind, but they weren’t ready to come out yet. She knew Michael. He thought a romantic dinner set the bar too high. There was zero chance he’d react well to a baby, and she couldn’t face the reality of that yet. Plus, with her brother’s wedding on the horizon and her need to prove herself to her family a pressing matter, it was easier for everyone if she just stayed mum on the subject. “I know you and that was a let’s-have-sex kiss.” Good God, it really was a let’s-have-sex kiss. And she had to be mad about it. “That was not a reunion. What were you thinking anyway?”
“I was thinking that you’re beautiful and I wanted to kiss you.”
If anyone knew how to say the right thing at the right time, it was Michael. Charlotte wasn’t going to fall for it, though. The old Charlotte would’ve been fawning all over him. Oh, Michael, you’re so romantic. She knew that it didn’t last with him. If he got a work call right now, he’d take it and not remember what they’d been talking about before he’d picked up the phone. “Well, just stop thinking that. You know we’re not right for each other. We want different things. Remember?”
He pursed his lips tightly. “I know. You’re right. We do want different things. I’m sorry I kissed you.”
There. Now she felt better. Sort of. “Thank you. For apologizing.”
He held up his hands in mock surrender. “Yes, ma’am. Whatever you say. No more kissing. I wouldn’t want to rock the boat again.”
Now she knew why she was so bad at setting boundaries. She hated it. “I really think it’s time to head back. I’m freezing.” Of course, her lips and some of her more delicate parts were still on fire.
“Yeah. I have some more work to do before bed anyway.” He blew out a breath and stuffed his hands in his pockets.
They headed back toward the Grand Legacy, walking in silence. The snow blanketed cars parked along the street and stretches of the sidewalk where no one had walked. Christmas and snow were both in the air and Charlotte had never felt more lonely. If she wasn’t pregnant, it would’ve been easy to keep kissing Michael. She wouldn’t have this monumental obstacle to get past. She also wouldn’t have the one thing in her future she was truly excited about, the thing that kept her going most days—a baby.
“You know, you still never told me why you went to England.” Michael looked down at her, his cheeks ruddy and wind-chapped. They were about a block from the hotel. They needed more ground to cover than that for Charlotte to explain.
“When I said I needed to regroup, it was the truth.” She shook her head and concentrated on the sidewalk in front of her, kicking up snow with her boots as she went. “I won’t lie, Michael. I felt a little lost after we broke up.”
“Huh.” He didn’t say another word, he just bunched his shoulders up around his ears to ward off the cold.
“Huh? What does that mean?”
“I’m just thinking. Give me a minute.” He shot her a look that said she needed to back off. “You know, our breakup didn’t have to happen. There wasn’t any reason we had to rush to get serious, Charlotte. We’d only been together three months. You were the one who was forcing the issue.”
Half of a laugh left her lips. They were having two separate conversations and she had too much she still had to keep to herself. I was forcing the issue because I loved you, you big dummy. “I really don’t want to get into the timing of our breakup.” It’ll just break my heart. “And that’s not the only reason I went to England. I needed to decide what my next move was career-wise. It’s not a simple thing when you’re trying to make a name for yourself in an industry that is essentially a fishbowl and your ex-boyfriend is a great white shark.”
Michael stopped at the hotel’s revolving door. “You’re perfectly capable of standing on your own.”
“I know that now. I didn’t know it before.” Charlotte pushed the brass bar across the glass window. The rush of heat in the hotel lobby was heavenly.
“And I’m not a great white. I’m more of a hammerhead.”
They made their way back to the elevator and hopped on bo
ard. Abby and Thor were back to sniffing and licking each other. Charlotte wasn’t sure how it was so easy for the dogs to figure it out. After all, they’d gone from Thor only wanting sex and Abby fending him off to actually being friends. At this point, friendship was the best-case scenario with Michael, and she had to do everything to steer herself toward that.
“Thanks for the walk,” she said when they arrived on the fifteenth floor. “I guess I’ll see you around.”
“Your brother’s wedding is this weekend.”
Charlotte nodded, fighting her inner sense of dread. Please don’t bring a date. “Yes. Definitely that. I’ll see you on Saturday.”
Six
Charlotte walked into the Grand Legacy speakeasy at 5:15 p.m., for a prewedding cocktail with her brothers. Hers would be nonalcoholic, but she hoped no one would notice. It was Sawyer’s idea to close the bar to the public and invite the wedding guests to enjoy a libation before the nuptials. Aunt Fran was in the lobby waiting for her date, an old flame she’d run into outside the hotel a few days ago.
“There’s the handsome groom,” Charlotte said to Sawyer, finding him standing at the bar with Noah. “How are you holding up? It’s a big night.”
He gave her a shaky grin, a kiss on the cheek and a warm embrace. Tugging at the collar of his crisp white shirt and straightening the sleeves of his classic black tuxedo jacket, he looked every bit the part of dashing yet nervous groom. “I’m a wreck.”
“A happy wreck,” Noah said, chiming in. “I told him not to worry. We have security stationed at every exit in the hotel. Just in case Kendall decides to make a run for it.”
They all laughed, quite effortlessly she noticed. For a moment, it felt like old times. Noah was always making jokes. When they were kids, he regularly annoyed their father with wisecracks at the dinner table. After their mother had passed away, their dad insisted on eating every meal in the formal dining room at the Locke estate. It had seemed ridiculous and stuffy at the time, but now that Charlotte was an adult, she realized those words—ridiculous and stuffy—were an apt description of her father.