by Scott, Lisa
The coworkers who had been searching for a way to share their condolences for Charlotte found a solution during happy hour in the form of buying her lots and lots of drinks. Champagne to celebrate her new freedom. Wine to combat any whining. Hard liquor for hard times. Charlotte knew she wasn’t a lightweight and certainly enjoyed a good drink, but by seven-thirty and too many drinks to count, she was ready to leave.
“Tristan, can you help me get a cab?” She hiccupped.
He placed his arm around her waist to steady her, and she leaned into him. “I’ll take you home,” he said.
“You can’t, you have a girlfriend.” Her words were slurred.
“I’m just going to get you home, not take you home.”
“Oh. Darn.”
She was aware of people watching and whispering as the two of them left together, but no matter. “I don’t care!” she shouted when they went outside. Her declaration was a wispy plume dissipating in the dark. She reached up like she could catch her words.
Once they came to Tristan’s car, she fully reclined the front seat.
“Whoa. You okay there?” he asked.
“Sure. This is comfortable. Like I’m in fancy first class where you get a bed. They had that on my plane to Paris. I didn’t sit there, but I saw it.”
“Only fancy first class for you in my car, darlin’.”
Darlin’. The word curled up with a happy sigh in her heart.
She reached over for his hand and he laced his fingers between hers. “Don’t laugh, but when we were dating I thought we’d get married. Then you dumped me.”
Tristan said nothing.
She reached up in the air again to grab the words and put them back. “I’m sorry. I’m drunk. This is why I don’t get drunk. I say stupid things.”
“That wasn’t a stupid thing. It was a sad thing, because I thought the same thing. I thought we’d get married some day. I hoped so, anyway.”
Charlotte sat up, then plopped back down again without the support of a seatback. “Don’t say that. You can’t say that.” Her throat was thick with tears. “You broke up with me. Why would you break up with me if you thought that?” She flung an arm over her eyes and groaned. “Don’t tell me this.”
“I have to. I have to explain. I was going through some incredibly hard, private stuff with my Mom. I really did need a break to handle it all. I thought we could pick things up again.”
Tears streamed down Charlotte’s cheeks. “Why didn’t you let me help you? Why didn’t you tell me what you were going through?”
“I don’t know. My mother was really depressed after my father died. I didn’t want to betray her trust, especially if you and I did end up together. She’d be mortified if her future daughter-in-law knew how desperately depressed she had been. Add to that my stress from work, and I figured it would be too much for you. I needed a break. I never said I was breaking it off for good. And I never thought you’d go off and marry someone else.” Pain laced his voice. “That was one of the worst days of my life, watching you walk out of the church married to another man.”
Charlotte lowered her arm from her face. “You should have told me how you felt.”
“I know.”
Journey’s “Don’t Stop Believin’” played on the radio as they drove along. She reached up and flicked it off, annoyed at the irony.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “The day of your wedding, I decided I was going to tell you. I drove to the church, but I hit traffic, and by the time I got there to make a fool of myself and stop the wedding, you were already married. So I sat down and did my best not to throw up.”
Charlotte slapped a hand across her mouth, thinking she might be the one to vomit. She took a few deep breaths and said, “You mean when I looked up and saw you walk in, you were planning to run up the aisle?”
“Something like that. I wasn’t sure if I should shout it from the back, or walk up to the altar and quietly explain. I didn’t know the proper protocol. I was really nervous.”
Charlotte laughed softly. “I bet.” She stared out the window and watched the streetlights go by. “I didn’t see you at the reception.”
“I didn’t go. I was too upset.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
She groaned. “And now you’re with Monique. The boss’s cousin.”
He pulled in front of her apartment and parked, letting the engine run and the heat blast. “I’m going to end things with her. But first, I’ve been trying to see who’s hiring because I don’t think Jillian’s going to take it well. I’d like to have something lined up before I’m let go.”
She curled up on her side and looked at him. “So you’re really breaking up with Monique?”
He nodded. “Whether or not you’ll ever give me another shot, it’s not fair to be with Monique when I love someone else.”
Charlotte struggled to swallow. “You still love me?”
“I do. Always have.”
Drunk and sloppy, she unbuckled her belt and crawled into his arms. “Owl always love you, too, Tristan.” Tears pricked her eyes and she smiled.
“Whooo’s the luckiest guy ever?” he asked in a thick voice.
They stared at each other and he tucked his hand around her neck and pulled her into a kiss.
She sighed as their lips met, like so much time hadn’t passed since they last did this.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“For what?”
“For running when I got scared. I should’ve fought for you when you wanted a break. I should have trusted you.”
“And I shouldn’t have waited until it was too late to fight for you. I’d call it even.” He grabbed her hand. “Let’s get you inside.”
He hopped out of the car and opened her door, leading her into the apartment. She stumbled to her bedroom and fell on the bed, fully clothed. He slipped off her shoes and covered her with a quilt.
“Stay with me,” she said.
He pressed his lips together. “I’ll stay, but nothing can happen between us until I break up with Monique.”
“So call her now.” Charlotte giggled.
He kicked off his shoes and crawled into bed, taking her into his arms. “That’s a conversation I need to have in person.” He brushed her hair off her face, and Charlotte fell asleep, smiling.
***
Tristan lay next to Charlotte, smoothing her hair and planting soft kisses on her cheek. Getting a second chance like this made him the luckiest man in the world. He fell asleep with her in his arms, and woke that way, too.
He slipped out of bed and made her breakfast. Eggs and toast should help the wicked hangover she was sure to have. He frowned. She’d been drunk last night. Had she meant everything she said?
Spotting the extensive collection of owl magnets on her fridge, he laughed. He remembered getting her some of those when they were dating.
He walked into her bedroom with a plate of food, and she sat on the edge of the bed with her head in her hands, groaning.
“I made you breakfast,” he said.
She looked up at him and smiled. “I didn’t dream that you told me you’re leaving Monique, did I?”
He sat next to her. “No. It’s true. And please tell me you remember everything you said?”
“Of course I do. This is the best morning I’ve had in years.” Then she ran to the bathroom and slammed the door. He heard her throw up.
“Love you, too, honey,” he called after her, laughing. He heard something slam against the door and wondered what she’d thrown.
***
Monday morning, everyone stopped talking when he walked into the office.
“Have a good weekend?” Chuck asked.
“Because we saw you leave with Charlotte Friday and now we have a pool going on when you two get back together,” Shelby explained. “Oh, and whether or not Jillian fires you.”
Chuck gave her a look, then said, “I think four weeks from now would be a fine time for you two to
give things another shot.”
“No, it’ll be sooner than that,” Shelby said. “Won’t it? Please?”
Shaking his head, Tristan walked toward Jillian’s office. “She’ll be out of the office for the next week,” Shelby said. “She’s getting ready for the holiday party.”
Tristan closed his office door behind him and picked up the phone. He should have broken things off with Monique a long time ago. He would’ve eventually ended their relationship even without Charlotte’s divorce. But still, he felt sick knowing what he was going to have to tell Monique.
She answered and he cleared his throat. “Monique, can you meet me for lunch?”
“No.”
“Why not?” he asked, surprised and a little annoyed.
“Jillian and I are in New York making some last minute purchases for the holiday party.”
“Our holiday party? The one we always have at the hotel ballroom with the shrimp tree and the ice sculpture of Jillian? What’s to decide?”
“It’s going to be very special this year.”
Monique called herself a publicist, but from what he could see, she did very little work. A trust fund from her grandfather kept her in Gucci and Armani and out of the office she rented. He had no idea why she’d been happy to settle for him. His family wasn’t wealthy or well connected.
“I really need to talk to you?”
Monique paused. “You do?”
“It’s important.”
“It’s going to have to wait. I don’t think I’ll be able to see you for even a moment this week.”
“Seriously? I have to see you.”
“Awww, so sweet.”
“No, Monique—”
She cut him off. “You’re just going to have to be patient.” And she hung up on him.
Tristan swore.
There was a knock on his door. “Who is it?”
“Charlotte.”
“Come in.”
“What’s wrong? I heard you swearing.”
“Monique is going to be out of town all week. And I don’t want to break up with her over the phone.”
Charlotte came inside and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. “I can wait. And you said you could, too.”
“I lied.”
She laughed. “Come over tonight, and we’ll talk about how much we wish we were in bed together.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“Yes, just talking,” she said. “Sean cheated on me and I won’t do that to someone else.”
***
Tristan had said he wasn’t sure whether or not he’d see Monique before the party to break things off, so Charlotte went to the hotel solo. She walked into the ballroom and whistled. A string quartet played Christmas carols in one corner. Huge bouquets of white flowers were arranged in crystal vases. Their previous parties had never been this elaborate. “Fancy,” she said, looking around. She spotted Jenny with her boyfriend, Nolan, and went over to them.
“Jillian went all out this year,” Jenny said. “Is she trying to land an account with the hotel or something?”
“I don’t know,” Charlotte said. White gauzy fabric covered each table making them appear to be dripping with snow. Spotlights shone intricate snowflakes on the walls. White twinkle lights dangled from the ceiling and miniature white Christmas trees sat on each table. “She should be an event planner. This is nicer than my wedding was.” Charlotte laughed, and Jenny rubbed her back.
“If you can joke about it, you’re getting over it,” Jenny said.
Hooking up with my ex has done wonders, Charlotte thought. It had only been a kiss, but still. She wanted Tristan back, but would it cost him his job?
Jenny and Nolan walked off, and Charlotte smoothed her slinky garnet colored dress, scanning the room for Tristan. She knew he loved her in this color and couldn’t wait to see his reaction.
She heard his voice before she saw him, and her insides fluttered. She turned to look and her smile fell. He was coming into the ballroom with Monique at his side. He must not have broken it off with her yet. She gritted her teeth.
“This place is amazing!” Monique said. She’d been poured into an icy blue dress, a glittering necklace, and tiara. Long, sparkly earrings glinted under her mane of blond hair. She reminded Charlotte of a cake with one too many rosettes.
“It really is,” Charlotte said.
Monique’s eyes widened, and she placed a silky, gloved hand over her mouth. “She got the silver bows for each chair like I asked. I have to go find Jillian and thank her.” She ran off.
“Thank her for what? What does that mean? Why does she care about our party?” Charlotte asked Tristan.
Tristan scratched his head. “I don’t know, but she’s been talking incessantly about this party and how important it is to Jillian. That’s why I decided to wait until it was over to end things with her. If I didn’t spoil her night, I thought Jillian might not be as mad.”
Charlotte’s heart fell. It’d been more than a week since Tristan told her he was going to break up with Monique. A nasty thought crept through her brain: Maybe he changed his mind.
“You look great,” he whispered.
“Thanks, so do you. I wish we were here together.”
“Me, too. I’ll tell her tonight. After the party.”
She closed her eyes and nodded. She hated that she was breaking up a couple, but she and Tristan were meant to be together. He’d admitted things were going nowhere with Monique, that it was only a matter of time before their relationship fell apart. And it certainly didn’t seem like Monique was deeply in love with Tristan. Not like Charlotte was. Like she always had been.
Jillian waved them over. “Does she want you or me?” Charlotte asked.
“Let’s go find out,” Tristan said.
The party was set up with food stations and roving waiters. Charlotte snagged a coconut shrimp from one of their trays.
“Don’t you look lovely, Charlotte,” Jillian said. “Maybe you’ll hook up tonight and get that nasty ex out of your head.” Jillian turned to Tristan and straightened his tie. “I’m so glad you wore navy tonight. It goes great with Monique’s dress.”
Tristan looked puzzled.
“Oh! The photographer’s here!” Jillian hurried to the door while Monique squealed and followed her.
“I probably shouldn’t stay by your side all night. I don’t want it to be obvious I’m the reason for your relationship ending,” Charlotte says.
“I don’t think we can avoid that. I think everyone’s expecting it.”
“Not Monique and Jillian,” Charlotte said.
“If it’s not too late, can I come by tonight after I talk with Monique?”
“Stop by no matter what time it is. Climb through my fire escape if I don’t answer the door because I fell asleep.”
“I promise.” Tristan quickly squeezed her hand, and Charlotte took a deep breath and walked away. Shelby was nursing a drink at the bar, so Charlotte took a champagne flute from a waiter and joined her.
“You must hate Monique so much,” Shelby said.
Charlotte choked on her champagne. “Why would you say that?”
“Because she’s dating your ex. And she’s gorgeous and rich—that’s why I hate her. You must really hate her since you still love Tristan.”
“Excuse me?”
“We have a pool going on guessing when you get back together. And another for when you tie the knot. Don’t do it too soon. I said eight months.” Shelby shrugged.
“Everyone thinks so? Even Jillian?”
“No, Jillian thinks Tristan and Monique are destined for each other. But what does she know? Have you ever seen her picks in the football pool? She’s never right. I think she just wants them to be together. Monique is like the little sister she never had. Her own Barbie doll come to life that she can dress and send on dates with Ken. Or Tristan.”
Charlotte set down her drink feeling too queasy to finish it. Maybe she should go home. She couldn’t hand
le seeing Tristan with Monique. There was no need for her to stay. Dinner was being served at stations, so there was no official table seating arrangements. She’d made her appearance. No one would miss her, and Tristan would come to her later.
As she headed for the coat check, the lights dimmed and the music stopped. Charlotte turned around.
Jillian stood on a small stage and tapped a microphone. “Good evening everyone, and welcome to a very special holiday party.” She received a light round of applause.
“I am so glad you could join us tonight, not only to celebrate the magical holidays of the winter season—Hanukah, Ramadan, Christmas and Kwanzaa I’m looking at you—but also to share in the joy of two people close to us all.”
Charlotte’s throat tightened and her palms felt sweaty.
Monique joined Jillian on stage.
“You all know my cousin Monique, and let me tell you, this is a girl who goes after what she wants.” Nervous laughter from the audience followed.
“She’s here in this beautiful setting to change her future. Monique?” Jillian handed the microphone to her cousin.
“Thank you, Jillian, and thank you for arranging all this. It’s lovely. So lovely.” Monique blinked rapidly and looked out over the crowd.
Charlotte tried to catch Tristan’s gaze across the room to see his reaction to all this, but he stared straight at the stage, rubbing his chin.
“I’m not an old-fashioned girl,” Monique said. “And I’m not one to wait around for what I want. And what I want is you, Tristan.” She crooked a finger at him, inviting him on stage with her.
At first, he froze. Then the crowd chanted, “Tristan! Tristan!” He climbed onto the stage, face pale.
Monique took his hand in hers and dropped to one knee. Charlotte heard the people beside her draw in breaths.
“Tristan, I want you to propose to me. Here. Tonight. I’ve made it easy for you. I’ve picked out my ring, all you have to do is go pick it up and pay for it. Will you make me the happiest woman in the world? Will you ask me to marry you?”
Tristan looked stunned. And when everyone was done gawking, they craned their necks around, undoubtedly searching for Charlotte to see her reaction.
So she did what she did best: she ran.
***
Tristan saw a flash of red bolt from the room. “Shit,” he said quietly. Or not so quietly. The microphone picked it up for everyone in the room to hear. “Can we talk privately, Monique?”