Page 179 of The Charlie Method

Before he can respond, I hear a scoff behind me.

“Seriously, Charlotte?Wow.”

Spinning around, I find Mitch standing at the entry of the hallway, disgust twisting his features.

I freeze, my heart dropping to my stomach. “I have to go,” I whisper into the phone. “Call you when we’re leaving.”

“Charlie—” Beckett starts.

I end the call and take a breath. I’m sick to my stomach as I walk toward my ex-boyfriend.

“You’re still the same slut you’ve always been, huh?” Mitch mocks.

I hope he can’t see how badly my knees are wobbling. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I say coolly.

That gets me a loud bark of laughter. “You just told some other guy you can’t wait to fuck him later.”

“You must have misheard me.”

“I didn’t mishear shit,” he snarls. “You called him Beckett. Isn’t that the dumb jock from class last semester?”

I clench my teeth.

“You’re unreal. Sneaking off to talk to another guy while you’re here with someone else?” His voice rises. “I knew you were a cock-addicted, come-guzzling whore, but this is a new low, even for you.”

My blood runs cold. I glance toward the lobby area, praying no one else overheard. But then I see movement out of the corner of my eye. My mother steps into the hallway, her expression a mixture of confusion and concern.

“Charlotte. There you are!” she calls. “I was looking for you.” Her eyes narrow when she recognizes who I’m speaking to. “Mitch. I didn’t realize you were here tonight.”

“Anna,” he says politely.

“Mrs. Kingston,” she corrects.Mic drop, Mom. Her gaze shifts between us. “What’s going on here?”

“Nothing,” I say quickly. “We were just catching up.”

“Catching up?” Mitch scoffs. “Is that what you call it now?”

My mother frowns. “Honey, what’s going on?”

“It’s nothing, I swear,” I lie.

She doesn’t look convinced, but there’s no way I’m repeating a single word Mitch just uttered. I shoot him a glare, silently begging him to drop it, and thankfully, he doesn’t say anything else.

“Let’s go back inside and find Will,” I tell her.

She gives a slow nod. “All right.”

We leave my ex in our wake and cross the lobby toward the ballroom doors, but as we’re about to pass the archway, she stops and touches my arm.

“Char,” she says. The worry has faded from her expression, and her lips now twitch with wry amusement. “I’m only saying this because I’m secure in the belief that you and Mitch will never be getting back together, but…your father and I hated that boy.”

A laugh pops out of my mouth. “He’s the worst, right?”

“The absolute worst.”

“I wish you’d told me this when we were dating.”

“You wouldn’t have listened.”

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