Page 147 of Just Like Home

“So, Charlotte let Julianna take the blame—”

“She did what she had to, to get ahead,” Marcia said. “In this life, we have to take what we want.”

“Julianna was devasted when she left the ballet.” Cole had never seen her like that. She’d been working so hard, and she loved dance more than anything. Never mind that it wasn’t many weeks later that she met Connor and her new life began—she’d never had another choice. And Charlotte had been the one to steal that from her.

“If you’ll excuse me,” Cole said.

“Of course.”

He rushed past Marcia and out the front door. He’d been fooled again. Charlotte was just like the rest of them. A liar.

Her moving back to the city, he could’ve handled. But this? This, he hadn’t seen coming. And maybe being blindsided all over again was the wake-up call he needed to remember why he’d sworn off women in the first place.

48

After the recital, everyone who’d performed took a bow. Charlotte had looked for Cole backstage, but he was nowhere to be found.

The curtain closed and everyone cheered.

Charlotte was making her way through the crowd of performers when she felt a tug on her dress. She turned and found Amelia standing at her side, tears in her eyes.

“Thank you, Miss Charlotte.” The little girl flung her arms around Charlotte’s waist and squeezed her so hard she thought she might explode.

Charlotte clung to Amelia, feeling the grief, the pain, the sorrow seep out of the little girl by way of that hug.

“I know your mom is so proud of you,” Charlotte whispered as Amelia drew back.

The little girl opened her hand to reveal a small, folded piece of paper.

“What’s this?”

Amelia shrugged. “My dad told me to give it to you.”

“Amelia, come on!” one of the other girls shouted. “My mom is taking us for ice cream.”

“I love you, Miss Charlotte.”

She ran off, leaving Charlotte standing under the dim lights of the stage. The words were like a cozy pair of pajamas on a cold and rainy day. Two people loved her. Two people she loved back. How had she gotten so lucky?

She opened the small piece of paper and saw the words scrawled on it.

It’s yours. Make her proud.

Tears sprang to Charlotte’s eyes. The studio was hers. She could stay. She and Cole could have a real shot at a real life and who knew? Maybe she would be loved until the day she died.

“Are you done with this charade now?”

She’d been so lost in thought, she hadn’t realized someone had come up beside her. She turned and found her mother, all hard angles and coldness, glaring at her.

“What are you doing here?” Charlotte asked.

“You wouldn’t respond to my calls or my texts, so I figured I’d drive up here and talk some sense into you.”

Charlotte started off the stage, aware that Marcia followed. “I have to go, I’m meeting someone.”

“If you mean that good-looking football coach, he left.”

Charlotte spun on her heel and faced her mother. “What did you do?”

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