There were still a few reporters left in the conference room with Caroline, but the door was open, meaning the meeting was over. Charleigh stepped up to the doorway just as one of the younger journalists was leaving.
Hill Baird, a sports reporter, greeted her with a broad smile around the pencil in his mouth. A steno pad was tucked under his armpit. Without a word, he winked and kept walking.
Hot. Hot! Very hot! And Hill knew it, too.
Stepping up toward the table, Charleigh remained silent. It sounded as if her aunt was in a heated ‘discussion’— because Caroline Randall never raised her voice— with Conrad Morgan, one of her veteran writers, over the length of his story. She was not going to budge, which sent the man storming out of the room.
Conrad flew by Charleigh, knocking her backward into the nearby water-cooler. He didn’t bother to help her pick up the leaking bottle or— in the very least! — apologize.
Oh, for crying out loud! Charleigh wanted to scream as she struggled to put the large plastic bottle, which felt as if it weighed a ton, back on its base. Water sloshed from the spout, pouring all over the floor and the wall. It got all over Charleigh. Everywhere except where it should have gone— into the water cooler.
“Here.” Hill came up from behind to take the blue bottle from her arms and put everything back together with ease. It occurred to Charleigh that he’d had to refill the contraption before.
“Thanks,” Charleigh said, looking down at her jeans in dismay. The whole fronts of her legs were drenched with half the drinking water. Just lovely!
“Anytime.” He shot her his sexiest smile, she was sure, and returned to his desk.
Turning around, Charleigh found her Aunt Caroline standing in the conference room doorway. A smile pulled at the other woman’s lips, one she was trying unsuccessfully to hide. Most of the people in the newsroom had seen Charleigh make an idiot out of herself with the comedy skit.
“Don’t say a word, please,” she begged.
Caroline choked back a laugh. “I wasn’t going to. How did the first day stuff go?” She turned and headed toward her office.
Grabbing the orientation packet, with several water stains on the outside, from the floor, Charleigh fell in step with her aunt. “It went.”
As those two little words spoke volumes, Caroline nodded with understanding.
They walked up a few steps and into her office, a small but comfortable room in the very back. It was a familiar place for Charleigh. Numerous journalism awards—many of which belonged to Nicholas McIntire, including a Pulitzer for an article he’d done on Vietnam; a Peabody— hung on the wall and sat on top of the small writing table behind her aunt’s desk. A dry-erase board with everyone’s daily assignments hung from the wall next to the door. Family photographs covered every other available space. Two windows provided a vantage point for Caroline to look out over the main floor at her staff.
Charleigh held a paperweight cupped in both hands as she took a moment to review the chaos of the newsroom. Of the some-odd people she knew the paper employed, six were full-time staff writers and twelve were freelance reporters and correspondents from around the county. Three were photographers. There was an art director, two copywriters, and two people who worked in the mail room. There were also many other people— though Charleigh wasn’t exactly sure what they did— who were caught in the hysterics of reporting the daily news from around the world to Magnolia.
“…jitters?” The voice of her aunt broke through Charleigh’s thoughts. She turned to Caroline with a blank expression. The other woman repeated her question, “Was Chris nervous?”
Charleigh nodded. “Yeah. I was a little nervous for him. He got stuck with Missus McCallum.”
“He didn’t get stuck,” Caroline chuckled. “Elise is a good teacher.”
“Could’ve fooled me. That woman hated me. She only acted like she liked me because she had a thing for Dad.” Charleigh sat the paperweight filled with little metallic hearts back down on top of a pile of neatly stacked papers on her aunt’s desk. “None of my teachers particularly liked me, come to think of it.”
The other woman perched her reading glasses on the edge of her nose. She rolled her eyes and began to tap on her keyboard. It made Charleigh wondered if she’d picked that habit up from Caroline.
“Sweetie, it’s not that they hated you, either.” She cleared her throat, keeping her eyes on the computer screen in front of her. “You just weren’t the easiest child to get along with. Do you remember what it was like between us when I started dating your uncle?”
“You hated me, too,” Charleigh joked, laughing.
“You didn’t want to share Josh with me for anything. You had that man wrapped around your little finger, which he didn’t mind at all.”
“I wasn’t a brat per se. Just a complicated child,” Charleigh scoffed in mock offense.
“Oh, yes, you were complicated.”
It was true. And she had tried bribing Charleigh with everything from candy to toys. Nothing had worked until the little girl finally realized that Caroline would never be going away. She was little more than two years old at the time but determined as any other that nothing and nobody would be coming between the unassailable bond with her ‘Unky Jah,’ as Charleigh had called Josh. With her entrance into the Randall family, Caroline had also become a part of that bond. And this was before Amanda was diagnosed with the terminal disease.
After her mother’s death, Mike had raised Charleigh to the best of his ability, with a little help here and there from her Granny Eliza and her Aunt Denise— who Caroline knew she’d never really been fond of; despite Charleigh’s friendship with Andie —and occasionally by Amanda’s parents.
Then, Eliza had passed away, leaving Charleigh to be raised by a pack of troglodyte males, herself and a self-righteous whore, in the opinion shared by both Caroline and Charleigh in secret.
Charleigh had always been involved with horses. Rodeos and gymkhanas. When Grant and Mell realized their only grandchild had the same talent with horses as her mother, Charleigh began spending more time with the animals, which was also around the same time when she’d started working at the Matthews’ ranch as a horse trainer.
She could achieve the impossible with the most untamed, the most violent beast, and turn them into the gentlest of all animals. Gentler than a kitten sleeping in a warm sunbeam. It was because, Charleigh had explained many times, she could understand them on another level. Because, like a horse, she had a fire inside of her that needed to be fed instead of extinguished. She needed to feel safe and secure, but at the same time, she needed to run unbridled and wild every now and then.
It was why Charleigh, Caroline knew as she looked across the desk at the young woman, had run away after the mishap with Gavin. She had wanted to be perfect and good and everything else that everybody had wanted her to be. Charleigh had bottled that fire away to accomplish what she’d always wanted. To be just like everybody else, in any way, shape or form.
But in doing so, Charleigh had become swept away in a tidal wave of emotions. Unhappiness had overwhelmed the young woman beyond the point when any normal person would have shattered. But Charleigh wasn’t normal.
Caroline had known how miserable Charleigh was even before she knew it for herself. That had eventually trumped the desire to be accepted.
Although Charleigh had gone through with the nuptials, the revelation of Gavin’s infidelity and Brea’s paternity had given her the perfect exit strategy. Had her niece never learned that information, Caroline wondered how long Charleigh would have been able to go on living the lie. How long could she have held herself hostage in a loveless marriage just so she wouldn’t feel so alone and out of place?
Everything changed when Jamie entered her life. It had hit more than a few bumps along the way, but they’d overcome and turned out even stronger.
“Are you happy?” Caroline asked the girl she’d raised as her own. It was a loaded question, and, at the same time, fa
irly simple. One she already knew the answer to but needed to ask, just to be certain.
Charleigh smiled. She answered without an ounce of hesitation, “Absolutely.”
“And Jamie is good to you?”
“He’s the best, Carrie.” Her shoulders rose as she breathed in. The smile grew broader. A twinkle appeared in her eyes. “I don’t even mind having to go to New York this weekend so his wretched mother can have her ball…” with an over-exaggerated British accent she added, “…at the Plaza.”
“Don’t go acting all Eloise and trash the bash just for the fun of it.”
“Of course not!” Charleigh burst out laughing. “I promised Jamie I’d play nicely and let his mother have her way. But you wait until you meet her at the wedding. That’s the day for Jamie and me, and I’ll do anything— and I do mean anything— to keep her from wrecking it.
“Even if it means wrecking it yourself?”
The younger woman nodded. “It’ll be something fit for America’s Funniest Home Videos. The ultimate bridezilla versus her future mother-in-law-from-hell edition.”
“She can’t really be that bad.”
“Oh, no. She’s worse.” Charleigh talked animatedly, waving her hands for emphasis. “A mixture of the evil stepmother and both of the stepsisters from Cinderella, and the wicked witch of the west and her sister, from the Wizard of Oz. She’s meaner and more sanctimonious and uglier than anything you can ever imagine.”
She looked down at her watch. It was almost ten, and her pants were wet. She needed to go home and change before heading to the feed store. “I’ve got to go. But the reason why I stopped by, besides to bring you the school forms, was to ask if Josh and you and the kids would take care of the horses for a couple of days. Just Saturday and Sunday, because we’re leaving on Friday evening, and I’ll make sure they have enough of everything until the next morning. We should be back late Sunday evening, but… I’ll pay you and the kids, and—”
“There’s no need to pay us, Char,” Caroline interjected. “We’re family, doll, and we help each other out. You can go and have a good time without having to worry about a thing.”
“Yippee,” Charleigh said with an eye roll. “I’d really rather stay at home, but…”
“…You do what you have to do to make your other half happy,” Caroline finished her niece’s sentence. “That’s the way it goes.”
Chapter Eleven
As much as Charleigh disliked Claudia Matthews— because it’s not nice to hate, Madie had scolded— she had to admit that the woman had style. The ballroom at the Plaza was decorated like any little girl’s fantasy. Like Cinderella attending the prince’s ball. And Charleigh was no different as she took it all in.
Enormous flower arrangements— the most beautiful Charleigh had ever seen— occupied the space in the center of each of more than fifty tables that surrounded a gleaming dance floor. The best china and flatware and crystal champagne flutes were at each place setting. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling above.
Servers walked around offering hors d’oeuvres to the guests on silver platters. But these guests were not just any normal people. They were New York’s high society— the very ‘upper crust.’ Among them were people Charleigh would never have dreamed she would be meeting. Or at least seeing in person.
Standing in the middle of the large crowd, with only a glass of Chablis for company, she spotted the mayor Rudy Giuliani and the police commissioner. She saw Donald Trump. Gloria Vanderbilt. Jamie’s grandparents were chatting with Tom Brokaw and his wife. Charleigh was in the very same room with her favorite author: Mary Higgins Clark, the Queen of Suspense. Oh my gosh! She felt like having a heart attack, too afraid to go over and say how much she enjoyed the lady’s books, in fear of making an idiot of herself by stumbling through her words.
An orchestra was set up in a far corner of the large space. They played a light melody that Charleigh recognized, though, she wasn’t sure of the name. She took a deep breath, a sip of her wine, and began to search the sea of faces for Jamie. His mother had pulled him away, saying that she and Greg needed to talk to him in private. Yeah, right! Charleigh knew very well that Claudia was still against her son marrying someone who didn’t quite meet her social criteria.
She looked for her grandparents. Grant and Mellisande were around somewhere, she knew. So were Madie and Lenore. It was a comfort to know that there were at least a handful of people there who truly supported her pending marriage to Jamie.
“We have to stop meeting like this,” someone whispered in her ear from behind.
Charleigh turned around and saw Kevin. She rolled her eyes, but a smile spread across her mouth at the sight of her future brother-in-law. “You’ll never give it up, will you?”
“Not until my brother slips that band on your finger,” he joked. “I’ll wait forever if I have to.”
She shook her head at the obvious mocked sarcasm. “Just don’t hold your breath. You’ll turn purple from the lack of oxygen.”
Kevin laughed. With approving eyes, Kevin skimmed Charleigh from head to toe, taking the sight of her in. The laughter soon faded into a friendly smile. “All joking aside, Charleigh, you look gorgeous.”
“Thank you.” A blush spread across her cheeks.
And she felt gorgeous. Wearing the blue evening gown she’d bought for Jenna’s debutante ball but never attended. The diamond tennis bracelet she bought from Tiffany on her first trip to New York with Jamie. A diamond Harry Winston necklace Grant and Mell gave her, as an engagement present, upstairs in their hotel room before coming down to the party. And a pair of her mother’s diamond and sapphire earrings dangled from her earlobes.
Charleigh wore her long, curly hair loose, with only a few strands from each side pinned back by silver barrettes. It cascaded over her shoulders and back like a coppery waterfall. She glowed with exhilaration.
On her face, she wore expertly applied by a cosmetologist from Bella Donna. A smoky eye shadow on her lids made the green of her eyes pop. Her glossy, painted lips was curved upward in a smile, which remained there ever since she stepped out of the bathroom and saw Jamie sitting on the edge of the bed in his tuxedo, speechlessly staring at her. The look in his eyes had told her more than words could ever describe, anyway.
“So, what do you think your parents wanted to talk to Jamie about?” she asked, with eyes scanning the crowd once more.
“I think it was a ploy to get my brother away from the party. My mother probably has him locked in a broom closet somewhere.”
Eyeing Kevin, Charleigh wasn’t exactly sure if he was being serious or joking. Their mother had already made it apparent that she didn’t want Charleigh joining her family. But would the woman really stoop so low and lock her own son in a closet to keep them apart? There was never any telling when it came to what Claudia might do.
She felt someone come up from behind and put their hands on her shoulders. Charleigh turned and saw Jenna standing to her right. Their eyes met, and the girl looked to her brother for an answer. Kevin remained silent.
“What’s wrong?” Jenna asked.
“Jamie went off with your mother a while ago, and now Kevin tells me that he thinks she’s locked him in a broom closet,” Charleigh explained, breathlessly. “Do you think she did?”
Irritated, Jenna looked at her brother. His jokes were never the least bit funny, and this one in particular was turning Charleigh into a nervous wreck. “No. No, she wouldn’t do that,” she replied patting her friend on the shoulder. Then added under her breath, “I sure hope not.”
Hearing the comment, Charleigh groaned, “Oh, great! I should go look for him.”
She turned toward the entrance to the ballroom in time to see Claudia stream in, with Greg on her heels, like the belle of the ball. The grand hostess.
But there was no sign of Jamie.
Oh, how lovely! Now Charleigh was really starting to panic. She needed to get out. She needed some fresh air.
“I hav
e to go. I have to get out of here,” she said, pulling away from Jenna. “I think I’m gonna be sick.”
As she took a few steps, a hand slipped around Charleigh’s wrist. The presence startled her, which caused her to pull away even more.
Never in Charleigh’s life had she felt so despised— not even from Gavin or Andrea. And that was saying something. She couldn’t think of any valid reason why the woman hated her so much. Was it because she was marrying Jamie? Did that really make enough sense for Claudia to treat Charleigh like a… like a criminal? No. No, criminals were treated better than the way Jamie’s mother behaved toward her.
In truth, Charleigh felt she might grow to like, or at least tolerate, her future mother-in-law, if only the woman would treat her with a little respect. That’s all she asked for, and she would show the same in return. Generally, Charleigh stayed silent when Claudia went off on one of her rants about how beneath them she was.
“Please, just let me go,” Charleigh begged as she twisted away from the individual who still had hold of her.
It wasn’t a tight grip around her wrist, but someone was still preventing her from finding Jamie. Tears brimmed in her eyes. Her heart rose in her throat. Why couldn’t these people just let them be happy?
“Hey. Hey, what’s wrong?”
She immediately stopped the struggle. At the sound of Jamie’s voice, as she pushed back the tears, Charleigh turned and saw him. She threw herself into his arms.
“Talk to me,” Jamie whispered against her hair. “What’s wrong?”
She stayed quiet, shaking her head. Her grip tightened around him. He could feel Charleigh’s body trembling against his own.
Looking over Charleigh’s shoulder as he held her, Jamie studied his siblings. Jenna had her arms crossed beneath her breasts. Her body was rigid as she angled their tiny group. Kevin was tight-lipped, his hands tucked in the pants pockets of his tux. He had a guilty look on his face, like ‘the cat that ate the canary.’ That Jamie associated with his brother’s tendency to stick his foot in his mouth.
You're Gone (Finding Solid Ground) Page 9