The Foretelling (Charlotte Bloom #1)

by Amanda Richardson

  I laughed.

  "What a line," I said, crossing my arms.

  "What?"

  "I’m not going to sleep with you. I’m not going to be your next conquest. Your dark, brooding attitude and Irish accent might work on other women, but not me. So, back off."

  He looked surprised.

  "I’ve never slept with a guest before."

  "Right, like I believe that. You know exactly what you’re doing. It’s not going to work on me," I hissed, and started to walk away. He caught up with me and grabbed my arm.

  "You fascinate me. You’re irritating and incredibly sexy all at the same time. And I wasn’t lying. I don’t hit on the guests. Ever. You’re the first." He looked at me sympathetically.

  I shuffled a bit, crossing my arms and looking down. I was processing his words. He thought I was sexy. I thought he was sexy. We both found the other to be irritating. I could deal with that.

  "Truce?" I offered, holding my hand out. He shook it. "This doesn’t mean I’ll sleep with you, or even be your friend. But… maybe we could get to know each other a little bit."

  "Deal." He started to walk away. "We have an hour until we meet back up with Helen and George. Are you hungry?"

  I thought about asking if we could stop in the clothing store, but decided against it. I could always come back into town sometime in the next few days. I agreed to the food, and he took me to a pub down the street. We chose a booth in the back, and he let me go in first. I was surprised when he came and sat down next to me. Perhaps it was tradition in Wales to sit on the same side. I eyed the empty seat across from us. Both sides were pretty small, and we were squeezed in tightly. There would’ve been much more space for him to sit on the other side, but I didn’t question it.

  The waitress came over and we ordered. I got a hamburger, and he got a double cheeseburger with chips. We both ordered beers. I couldn’t help but notice the waitress eyeing Alec. She could barely take her eyes off of him. She flirted with him, and he smiled back at her. I knew he was probably just being nice, but it bothered me, and I didn’t know why. Couldn’t she be more professional? She was a waitress, for god’s sake. She shouldn’t be flirting with her customers.

  "So… what’s the real reason you left L.A.?" He looked over at me with pure curiosity, but also something else. It struck me how interested he seemed, for someone who supposedly hated me.

  I couldn’t quite pinpoint it, but it felt like he was boring his eyes into my soul. He genuinely wanted to know, which in and of itself was a miracle because I thought he despised me, but also, he knew I was here for a reason other than what I’d told the others. He was calling bullshit. And deep down, I knew he was the person I wanted to confide in. Even though he hated me, I was pretty sure he also got me. He was real, unequivocally himself, and we had some sort of connection. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. I knew I could count on him. I knew I could trust him. He wouldn’t judge me.

  Maybe him saving me from Bo yesterday proved that. I had a feeling he was also going through, or had recently been through, something similar. I wondered if it was a feeling that radiated out to other people when they go through something life-changing. It’s as if others like you can sense that, and you attract each other. I didn't know if it was his supposedly hard childhood (I had no evidence to back this up, but I imagined him on the hard streets of Northern Ireland begging for food as a child, even though I was pretty sure that was entirely inaccurate) or something else that had caused this hard exterior and attitude problem, but something connected us. I wanted to get to know him, I realized. I wanted him to get to know me.

  "The sunny weather became too much, so I came to the UK, where I hear it rains all the time." I chuckled and he smiled, unsatisfied. At least I’d made him smile. "Fine. If you want to know the truth, I’ll tell you. But, I realize this story might make me sound crazy. So don’t judge me."

  "I won’t judge you. Well, maybe a little bit." He smiled playfully.

  The waitress brought out our beers and I chugged a good third of it before beginning.

  "I’ve only told two other people about this," I said, thinking of Amara and Harry.

  "You can trust me."

  "Doubtful," I said, smiling playfully. "Do you really want to know? Or are you still trying to get into my pants, even though I told you it’s not going to happen?"

  "I really want to know," he said. I waited. There was no comeback. He must’ve been sincere.

  "Almost six months ago, Amara, my best friend, and I went to a psychic," I said slowly. His lips turned up into an almost smile. It looked like he was going to laugh. "You said you wouldn’t judge me!" I shouted, swatting his arm.

  "I’m sorry. Please continue."

  "OK. Well, I have a confession. I’m married," I said hesitantly, waiting for his reaction.

  His face remained stoic.

  "I know. I asked Helen what your deal was this morning. She told me that your husband left you."

  "You guys sure do gossip a lot in Wales."

  "I’m sorry for grilling you about it last night, and in the car earlier. I just get defensive about the Parc. Helen and George don’t offer employment to complete strangers often, or ever. They’re like family to me. It just seemed a little suspicious."

  "That’s understandable."

  "So, what happened with the psychic?"

  "That’s a loaded question. This psychic said that Harry, my husband, and I would separate."

  "And you believed her?"

  "Well, no. I don’t normally believe in that stuff. But then the things she’d predicted started happening and… Harry and I realized we weren’t happy. We were just content. The day of Amara’s wedding, Harry left me. I’d turned into a crazy baby-making machine to try and distract myself from my crumbling marriage, and then I was left with nothing. I panicked. I left the wedding, went to the airport, and got on the first flight to Europe."

  "Which happened to be Swansea?"

  "Yep."

  "Wow." He looked at me sideways.

  "I told you. It makes me sound crazy."

  "No it doesn’t, Charlotte. It makes you sound human." He patted my thigh and I jumped about a foot in the air. The contact with him sent crazy electrical signals down my legs, radiating from where he touched me. He didn’t seem to notice.

  Before I could say anything, the waitress brought our food out. Alec started eating right away, and I followed suit. We ate in complete silence, enjoying our food, and taking it all in. Had I really just told him everything? I hadn’t even been that honest about myself in my own head. But it just spilled out with him. I watched Alec finish his entire meal before I was even done with half of my hamburger. My story hadn’t even seemed to faze him, which was impressive.

  "Thanks for telling me," he said genuinely, pushing his plate away.

  "You’re welcome." I looked up at him, and he was looking at my lips. Dammit. "So, what’s your story, then?" I wanted to change the subject. I took another bite of my hamburger.

  "You don’t really want to know, do you?" he asked, incredulous.

  "What do you mean? That’s not fair. You wanted to know all of my dirty secrets, so now it’s your turn."

  "Fine. I grew up near Belfast. You know of it?"

  "I’ve never been. I heard Mrs. Braine talking about how she was going to meet up with your mother."

  "Yeah, my mum still lives there. I always make sure she has people visiting her. She gets lonely sometimes. She loves meeting new people."

  "And your dad?" Before it even came out, I knew I shouldn’t have said it. His face changed completely, going dark.

  "He passed away."

  "Alec, I’m so sorry. Recently?"

  "Eight years ago."

  "Right around the time you came here?"

  "Yep." I felt him shift uncomfortably.

  I waited, hoping he would go on. He didn’t, and I don’t know why I did it, but I kept pushing for an answer.

  "Is your mom alone, in Ir
eland?"

  "Look, Charlotte… I’m just trying to be nice here. I don’t really want to talk about it, alright?"

  I’d said the wrong thing. He was done playing nice. He asked for the check and paid, even though I insisted I pay for my half at least. He muttered something about how Irish men always pay for the bill, and we were out, just in time to meet Helen and George. They waved at us from across the street as we approached the truck. I looked over at Alec, and his face remained expressionless. I wondered how often he had to put up a tough front.

  "Looks like both of you got some shopping done! Charlotte, were you able to pick up some more clothes?"

  Alec looked at me as Helen said this. I could see the confusion on his face.

  "No, but Alec helped me find a coat and I got some rain boots," I said, showing her my shopping bags.

  "You needed clothes? Why didn’t you say anything?" Alec looked hurt.

  "I didn’t want to drag you along on my boring errands," I explained. "Besides, you suggested lunch, and I was hungry. I can come back another time." I smiled at him to ease the tension, and looked back at Helen and George. "Did you two run all of your errands?"

  "Oh yes, we even picked this up to help us if you’re not around and we have an emergency," George said, pulling out Computers for Dummies.

  I laughed.

  "Ahh, now that’s a winner." I don't think he realized I was being sarcastic because he smiled and nodded. "But don’t worry. I will get you guys all set up. You shouldn’t have any emergencies. It’s pretty simple," I assured them.

  We all packed back into the truck, in the same order as the last time. I felt much more aware of Alec’s presence this time around. The information I’d given him about my life made me feel vulnerable. I hardly knew anything about him, and yet he knew that I’d been trying to get pregnant, been left by my husband, had seen a psychic and believed her, and left everything the evening of my best friend’s wedding to come to Wales. It was a lot of information to process.

  We all chatted on the ride back to the Parc, mostly about the weather and the history of Parc-Le-Bouveret. The road was bumpier than I remembered, and I laughed as I kept falling over onto Alec and Helen. I felt free and uninhibited, like I was a new woman. Just like on the beach the day before, after horseback riding, I felt so completely happy. The sun was shining, Helen and George had hired me to stay here and help them. I’d possibly found a new friend in Alec, even though he was a bit testy sometimes. It was nice to have someone to confide in. I needed that. We all sat next to each other, talking and laughing like family, and I knew again, for the second time in just a few days, that this was my place right now. It wasn’t Paris or London, but it was where I was meant to be. I felt it deep in my bones. I was on the right path. I would find my happiness here.

  ***

  I went straight to my room when we got back, waving goodbye to Helen, George, and Alec as I walked down the hallway. George, Helen, and I had agreed that we’d set the computer up tomorrow. They had thanked me for helping them and said they were excited to learn how to compute. I went to my room, unpacked my new purchases, and tried them on. It was ritualistic for me to put on my newly purchased items right when I got home. In the parka and boots, I looked truly British. The hunter green wellies and navy parka gave me a very woodsy look. I decided to have a quiet afternoon in and read, enjoying the slow pace of life. The Braines were off somewhere, and I knew Ted and Lucy were off gallivanting somewhere doing honeymooner stuff on their last day here.

  I put on leggings and a t-shirt, sat up in bed, and read my book. I’d made myself some tea from the electric kettle in my room, and I sipped it slowly as I read the smutty romance novel. About an hour later, I heard a loud knock on my door.

  "Who is it?"

  "Guess!" A female’s voice rang out, and I opened the door, confused. Mary stood there with a large, canvas bag. "Hi, friend!" She pushed her way in and sat down on my bed, putting the bag on the ground.

  She looked as stunning as ever, with her hair loosely braided. She was wearing a white, flowy, bohemian summer dress and tan cowboy boots.

  "Hi! How are you?" I bent down to hug her. "Can I make you some tea? Also, sorry for the mess…" I trailed off, eyeing the pile of clothes on the floor and my open suitcase with clothes flowing out of it.

  "No tea, but thank you. I brought something stronger," she said, producing a bottle of champagne. "To celebrate your new status as a Parc-Le-Bouveret employee, and also some new clothes to add to your wardrobe." She looked me up and down. "I feel like you’re a woman who appreciates clothes as much as I do, and we’re roughly the same size, so I brought over some clothes I’m willing to part with."

  "How did you know I needed clothes?" I wondered out loud, looking down at her like she was an angel.

  "A little birdie told me. Well, actually, this was a tall, handsome birdie, but still."

  "Ah, I see," I answered. Alec.

  "I feel like we bonded yesterday over lunch, and lord knows there is a serious lack of women my age around here. I’m stuck all day with Henry’s parents at the pub, Helen, George, and Alec."

  We drank champagne from tea mugs and went through her clothes. She’d also brought shoes! She really was an angel. I tried on shirts, dresses, pants, jeans, sneakers, heels, boots, jackets, sweaters, and cardigans while we got to know each other. I kept a lot of the items she brought, figuring I would be here for a while, so why not.

  My favorites were a light yellow mohair sweater, flared 70s jeans, a striped summer dress, a grey wool cardigan, a black leather jacket, Nike sneakers, cropped running leggings, a running jacket (she was a fellow runner), and the list went on and on. I also now had a million more pairs of socks, a few pairs of (unused) underwear that she had ordered in the wrong size, strappy cork wedges, and a forest green lambs wool sweater with leather elbow patches. I also kept a light, black, silky thin cardigan that I thought would go nicely with my new red dress from Bloomingdale’s. I was saving that dress for a special occasion.

  We sat around and gossiped until dinnertime. She was staying for dinner before she had to go back to the pub to give Henry the car. They lived in a small house just down the road from the pub. On the subject of Alec and Henry, who I found out were best friends, I asked if Alec was seeing anyone.

  "Why, interested?" Mary laughed.

  "No, no, I was just curious because he’s so… mysterious. He’s very confusing."

  "He’s been through a lot. He’ll open up. Don’t worry."

  "I imagine him as a poor little kid in the middle of the Northern Ireland crisis, begging for food. I don’t know. He just seems so jaded."

  "Don’t feel so bad. He grew up in a mansion. But still, he lost his dad at twenty-two. I guess they were really close."

  "A mansion?! Really?"

  "His parents were in politics or something."

  "Wow. That’s not what I pictured." I had always pictured him as the down and out child; jaded because of his orphaned, hard knock life. Turns out he grew up more like daddy Warbucks.

  "I think Alec cares about you," Mary said, out of the blue.

  I sipped my champagne slowly. I wanted to savor her every word. For some reason, I felt like I needed to know more about Alec.

  "What makes you say that?"

  "Because he came banging on my door an hour ago, demanding that I bring some clothes over to you. He said it was really important. He never says anything besides his horses are important. I have to ask… what’s up with you guys? He’s never acted like this around anyone."

  "Like what?"

  "You know what."

  I shrugged.

  "I don’t know. But I need to tell you something. Since we’re besties now and everything."

  "Hell yeah, we are. I’m never letting you go. Do you know how hard it is to find someone to day drink with me here? God."

  I laughed.

  "I’m married."

  "Whaaaa?!" Mary sat up, getting serious. "Are you serious?" />
  "But… he left me. My husband. His name is Harry. He left me last weekend at my best friend’s wedding. I panicked, went to the airport, and took the first flight to Europe, which happened to be Swansea."

  "For real?" She looked me up and down. "Damn. That’s rough. I’m glad I thought to bring the champagne." She poured the last bit and offered it to me. "Here. You deserve this."

  "Thanks." I sipped the champagne. "It wasn’t just that he left me out of the blue. We’d been together for eight years, married for almost seven. We were having problems. I was just blind to it. I realize now that I wasn’t happy with him."

  "I get it." She smiled at me warmly. For the second time today, knowing that I had a friend here comforted me. "Well, Alec is single but you should know that he dated my friend Gemma recently."

  "Oh. Well, that’s fine. I mean... I don’t care."

  "Uh huh, sure. I’m just letting you know… to give you some history."

  We sipped our champagne in silence for a minute. I waited for her to go on, but she didn’t. I could tell she was baiting me. She was waiting for me to ask for more details. She kept looking over at me, practically begging me to ask questions.

  "Fine. You win. Were they serious?"

  "Ha! I knew it!"

  "No, I’m just curious about him. I swear. He’s been so hot and cold towards me, so I’m interested in learning more about him."

  "OK, if that’s your story. No, it wasn’t serious. Not really. Gemma was visiting me earlier this year, and her and Alec got to talking, and they dated briefly for two weeks. I think she broke his heart when she left," Mary explained. I had to admit, hearing that was a little bit painful.

  "Poor Alec," I said, looking at her. "I mean that platonically. Come on, my husband just left me. I’d have to be some sort of heartless fool to have feelings for someone else already."

  "It happens. You can’t help who you love, or when it happens," she said. "You know, Henry was married when I met him."

  "What?! Really?" I was so surprised. I couldn’t imagine Henry with another woman.