by Natalie Rios
“It’s not.”
“It’s not?” I glance up to find he’s moved directly in front of me.
“It’s not,” he repeats. Tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, his index finger lightly taps the tip of my nose. “Not having any responsibilities isn’t the same as being irresponsible. I don’t think people expected much of you in your previous life. Not until they all of a sudden expected the world of you.”
I frown at him, not quite getting what he’s trying to say. But before I can ask for clarification, he pulls me to the door.
“Now, if this little spectacle of yours is over, we have to go deal with Barbie. Um, Emily.”
“Ha!” Smirking, I set my hands on my hips. “Caught you! She looks more like a Barbie than an Emily anyway, right?”
Brody doesn’t answer, opening the door instead. “Emily. What are you doing here?”
And I must say, it’s nice to see him be short with someone else for a change.
Emily flounces her hair back – flounces! – and bats her eyes at him. Such an obvious ploy is kind of disappointing, if you ask me. I kind of expected Mina’s adversary to be less amateurish.
“Your email-”
“Said you would be starting next month,” Brody cuts in. “And what’s this about you replacing Miss Kensington? My email said no such thing.”
A tinge of color blossoms across Barbie’s cheeks before she sends me a smug look. “Well, isn’t that the case now, anyway? I mean, after that all the screaming she did in there…It’s no wonder they call her New York’s Scene Queen.”
See what I mean? Invoking one of my nicknames to poke at me? Complete amateur.
“I prefer Wild Child, actually. You know, because I can’t be tamed?” I quip, earning a glare from Brody.
Right. I should probably let him handle this.
“I don’t like gossips, Emily. I’m hiring you as a favor to your father. He told me you’ve had a tough time finding a job since you graduated from college-”
My eyes widen while Barbie flushes a crimson red. Looks like we have more in common than either of us thought.
“But I haven’t officially hired you on yet. Keep that in mind before you pass along whatever it is you think you heard today.”
“Sure thing, Brody,” Barbie mutters, effectively put in her place.
“And by the way. Miss Kensington was not fired. In fact, she’s been promoted. Should you accept this position, she will technically be your direct supervisor. Something to consider before you get back to me on my offer.”
I manage to quell my excited squeal this time, bobbing my head and tapping my foot instead. Barbie is horrified, but meekly thanks Brody before seeing herself out.
“Congratulations,” Brody says. “You can start working on stuff for the Children’s Program today, if you want.”
Hugging him again, I ignore his eye roll and focus instead on the way he gently squeezes me back. He can pretend he isn’t into the PDA all he wants, but I know he likes it when I touch him.
So you’re probably wondering how such an incredible morning could have turned to shit? Well, it started with a knock...
I spend the rest of the morning doing research on activities for different age groups. Brody said I’ll eventually be able to hire other employees, but for now, he just wants to see a list of what we need along with a budget estimate.
Yeah, it does not escape me that this is shaping out to be very similar to what Jackson had to present my father to get the money to start his club. But this is way more fun than doing a business proposal. I mean, I’m designing activities for kids. And since I’m basically a big kid at heart, this job is perfect for me.
So I’m neck deep in the black hole that is Google, reading about all the variations of the game tag (in case you were wondering: elbow tag, foot tag, amoeba tag, freeze tag, secret tag, British bulldogs, and zombie tag), when there’s a knock at the door.
Barbie’s been the only surprise visitor the entire time I’ve worked here. Really, the only people who stop by are Brody’s siblings and Mina. Assuming it’s one of them, I call out for the person to come in without looking up from my computer screen.
“Hey, Char.”
I freeze at the voice. Oh no. Shooting out of my seat, I groan when I knock over a pencil cup in my haste.
“Shit!”
“Well, that’s one way to say hello,” Eddie chuckles. Making his way across the room, he crouches down to help me pick up all the pens and pencils rolling around on the floor.
“Sorry. Hi, Ed,” I whisper, mentally trying to calm the fuck down.
Eddie Rockwell. Eddie Rockwell is here, in my office. In Maine.
For fuck’s sake, do not have a panic attack, Charlotte. Not now. Not here. And certainly not in front of him.
“What are you doing here?”
“Why are you whispering?” Thankfully, he’s whispering back. The last thing I need is for Brody to –
“What was that noise?” As if my thoughts summoned him, Brody opens his door and immediately frowns down at where Eddie and I are still crouched on the floor. Fucking hell. On the bright side, at least he left the gun in the drawer this time. “Can I help you with something?”
“Nope,” Eddie cheerfully replies. “I’m here for this girl.” He wraps an arm around my shoulder and I immediately pop up from the floor.
Face, please don’t be red. Please don’t be red.
Glancing up, I catch Brody’s glare. “Is this related to the party this weekend?”
Oh, how I wish it were.
“Party? What party?” Eddie gets up, placing the now reorganized pencil cup on my desk. “You know I love a good party, Char.”
“It’s for the resort guests.” But I need to get to the bottom of this. I don’t care that Brody’s standing less than two feet away, watching us like a hawk. I need answers. “What are you doing here?”
“Taking you out to lunch,” Eddie answers.
“Lunch? You drove all the way up from New York to take me to lunch?”
“Don’t be silly, darling. I flew.”
Right. Because unlike me, Eddie still has money. Except his answer doesn’t do me any favors because Brody is now crossing his arms and leaning back against his open office door. The man has zero intention of leaving us alone and if his narrowed eyes are any indication, he’s suspicious as hell.
“How much was that flight?” Brody asks, his tone not any more amiable than his expression.
Eddie shrugs. “I have no idea. I flew in on the company jet. Anyway. Lunch, darling?”
“Are you going to tell me why you’re here?”
“I’m visiting you. You didn’t call me when you were in New York so I was worried.”
Ah. So that’s what brought this on. My fault, per usual.
“Besides, I haven’t seen you since the whole debacle with your father. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“Okay...” I quickly check the time on the wall clock behind him and yup, it’s about lunch time. It’s an unwritten rule that I take my lunch at noon. I haven’t had to ask Brody for permission since…well, since we started having sex. But I feel a need to check in with him this time. “Um, do you mind if I...take my lunch now?”
I almost said go have lunch with Eddie. Good thing I caught myself in time.
“Sure,” he replies.
“Really?” Wow, that was a lot easier than I thought. I don’t know why I was expecting some huge awkward production. I mean, it’s not like Brody and I are actually dating or anything –
“Of course. In fact, why don’t I join you?” WHAT? “It will be my treat. To celebrate your promotion.”
Fuck. Fucking fuckity fuck fuck!
My mouth is completely useless and my brain is too busy dropping f-bombs to tell my body to do much else besides imitate an owl with how wide my eyes are right now.
So it’s poor Eddie who unwittingly delivers the deathblow to my day with his response.
�
�A promotion! Congratulations, darling! Of course we should all celebrate.”
There’s no way I can get out of this now.
And to the café the three of us go. Along the way, Eddie chirps on about who knows what. God bless him, he can keep up a conversation with a wall, if need be.
Which is basically what Brody resembles at this point. A huge, silent, moving wall. Keeping his eyes straight ahead, he doesn’t react much until he catches me on my phone.
“Who are you calling, Charlotte?”
“Fallon and Mina. And Kyle and Tanner,” I quickly add on their names. This is an all hands on deck type of situation. “Might as well invite the whole gang, since we’re celebrating.”
“The more the merrier!” Eddie cheerfully agrees.
Why have I never noticed how damn cheerful Eddie is all the time?
Anyway, I send out an SOS text and everyone except Tanner immediately responds that they will meet us there.
Mina’s at the door waiting for us when we arrive, a concerned smile on her face. “Hey, guys. What’s going on?”
“Mina!” I’m going to stick to her like glue. Hell no am I about to drown in this bitch. “We’re just having lunch.”
“Charlotte’s friend flew in all the way from New York,” Brody interjects, emphasizing the word friend so it sounds dirty. He’s way past suspicious at this point.
“Wonderful! Fallon and Kyle-”
“Are right here!” Fallon calls from behind us. “What’s up?”
“Lunch! Brody’s treat. Let’s get a table,” I say, trying to move this train wreck along. The way I see it, the faster we sit down and eat, the sooner Eddie can make his way back on his private jet. Plus, you can’t really talk if your mouth’s full, right?
“Who’s your friend?” Kyle asks the second we’re seated. At least he doesn’t make the word friend sound like fuck buddy.
I can do this. Just stick to the facts and there’s nothing to worry about. “This is Eddie. He’s my best friend Liz’s twin brother.”
“Oh! The one who was your date to cotillion?” Fallon asks. Fuck a duck. Now is not the time for Fallon to remind people of these details.
And if Brody’s eyes narrow any more, he won’t be able to see out of them.
“The very one,” Eddie replies with a grin. “I don’t know why you always use the Liz connection. I’m also your brother’s best friend.”
“Yeah, well...” Who gives a shit, I want to say. Let’s not make this connection seem any deeper than it is.
But that would be immature. And rude. This awkwardness isn’t Eddie’s fault, it’s mine.
“It’s sweet of her brother to send you up here to check on her,” Mina says after the rest of the introductions are made. “I wish I had a brother like that.”
“Jackson, sending me up here to check on his sister?” Eddie laughs. “Good one. No, I decided to come up because I was worried about you, Char. You didn’t call or text when you were in New York.”
“Yes, you mentioned that,” Brody grumbles. Everyone at the table stares at me expectantly.
“So how did you know I was there?” I deflect.
“Jackson told me.” Of course. That Judas. “It’s not like you to fly in without saying anything.”
Shrugging, I reach for my glass of water. I’m not thirsty, but I need to give my nervous hands something to do. “I was busy.”
“What’s up with your hair?”
He’s talking about the color. “Haven’t had a touch-up in months. Who knew maintaining a balayage was so expensive?”
“And what are you wearing?”
I immediately grow self-conscious. Glancing down, I can’t see anything wrong with my plain white silk blouse and navy blue pencil skirt/blazer combo. I know this outfit is work appropriate. I haven’t made a wardrobe mistake since that awful first day.
“I’m told it’s called business casual.” At Eddie’s snort, I frown. “What’s wrong with my outfit?”
“Well, for starters, it’s blue and white,” he says, as if that explains anything.
“And?”
“And you don’t wear either of those colors.”
“Oh, so you’ve memorized my wardrobe, have you? Give me a break.” I add an eye roll for good measure.
“Charlotte. Come on. We’ve known each other for, what, fifteen years? You only wear three colors: red, purple, and black. White is reserved for weddings and blue is the poor man’s purple.”
“Who told you that?” I ask, semi-incredulously. I think I know the answer, but I’m praying like hell I’m wrong.
“You did. Right before cotillion. Remember? All the girls were supposed to wear a white ball gown, but you refused because white is for weddings. So you showed up in a red cocktail dress, that one-shoulder number with the sequins. Your lips were painted to match and I swear the organizers shit a brick the moment they saw you. You were going to get kicked out, but-”
“You lied and told them neither one of us got the memo about the dress code,” I finish. “Your red tie made it believable.”
Eddie flashes me a boyish grin. “I told you, if you were getting kicked out, I was getting kicked out too. I’ll always be on your side.”
Houston, we have a problem. Because there is not a single person at the table who is willing to believe Eddie and I are just friends.
I stay as quiet as possible for the remainder of lunch, heavily relying on Fallon and Mina to engage with Eddie. Though I don’t dare look his way, I know Brody’s angry. The emotion radiates off of him in palpable waves, making me restless. Tapping my foot, squirming in my seat…I just can’t seem to sit still.
Worse, I feel a familiar tightening in my chest. I have to remind myself I haven’t done anything wrong and force myself to do a quick run through of my breathing exercises, just in case.
If I have a panic attack in front of Eddie, he’ll make sure Ellie is on the next flight out here. Hell, he might not even wait for her to get here. He’ll drag me, bodily if it came down to it, to the nearest psychiatrist.
Mercifully, lunch ends quickly. Likely because no one ordered anything substantial. Good to know I’m not the only one feeling too awkward to eat.
We say the most stilted goodbyes ever and I make sure the entire length of the table stays in between Eddie and me the entire time. “Looking forward to dinner tonight, Char,” Eddie adds before he dashes off.
Well, shit. He’s taken a page out of the Kensington playbook and trapped me into a dinner date. There’s no way I can get out of it now without yelling across the crowded café. I’m not bothered by the idea of creating a scene, but doing so might raise even more suspicion among the Connors clan.
Speaking of the Connors clan (and Mina. Though Mina is an honorary Connors and will be one in name soon enough, if I have my way), they’re on me the second Eddie is out of earshot.
“Are you sure you two are just friends?” Fallon starts in.
“We’re friends!” I insist. Which technically isn’t a lie. Notice how I left out the word just.
“Well, maybe someone needs to tell him that. He spent the entire lunch making googly eyes at you,” Mina says.
“Not to mention the whole wardrobe thing. I mean, half the time I can’t even get a guy to remember what I wore yesterday, let alone an outfit from fifteen years ago!”
“Fifteen years ago, you were six, Fallon,” I desperately point out. “No one remembers what they wore in the first grade.”
“Man, the fact he knows what colors you wear…” Kyle trails off, shaking his head in disbelief.
“And that whole getting kicked out with you part? Talk about romantic!” This came from Fallon again. “Did he know you were going to wear red? Is that why he wore the tie?”
“Hmm…” I don’t know how to answer their questions without digging an even bigger hole for myself. “How about we talk about this later?”
Like sometime when a big and visibly angry Brody isn’t standing mere inches away from u
s.
“Okay. But we’re definitely talking after your dinner!” Mina warns before the three of them say their goodbyes.
Too late, I realize dismissing them means I’m left alone with a very angry Brody.
Neither one of us speaks as we walk back to the office. No eye contact either. Hell, we could have been two strangers walking in the same direction, for the amount of interaction the two of us had.
But it was the calm before the storm, a storm that kicks up to a stage five hurricane the second we step into the office. I know things are going to be bad when Brody closes (and locks!) the door behind us.
“Do you mind telling me what the fuck that lunch was about?” Brody asks. His tone is innocent enough, but his hands are fisting at his sides, his knuckles visibly white from the lack of blood circulation.
Make no mistake, the man is furious.
“I don’t know what it was about. And that’s the truth. You heard me ask him why he was here. You heard his answer-”
“I heard a lot of things. Including his obsession with your clothes.” Yup, Eddie’s little speech definitely isn’t doing me any favors. “So I’m going to ask again, how do you two know each other?”
My cell phone picks that precise moment to start ringing. I palm it and press to decline the call.
“Like I said, he’s my best friend’s twin brother.”
“And your date to cotillion,” he snarls.
“Oh my god! It’s really not that big of a deal!” I yell as my phone continues to ring. “The cotillion story is really more about me and Liz. It’s how we met. Neither one of us had dates. We were the only two dateless losers in the bunch so we bonded over that and then discovered we both had twin brothers. For obvious reasons, we couldn’t go with our own brothers, so we did a twin swap. That’s all it was!”
“Okay, but then why-” Brody halts his words, narrowing his eyes when my phone begins to ring for the third time in a row. “Who keeps calling you?”
“No one,” I quickly answer. Too quickly, if the flaring of Brody’s nostrils is any indication. I know exactly who it is because there is only one contact in my phone with the song Trouble by Pink as their assigned ringtone.
“It’s the middle of a work day and your lunch just ended. Who keeps calling you, Charlotte?”