Page 44 of Charm

I’ll take it, so I nod. “I’ll see you then, Greer.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Greer

I’d be lyingif I said I didn’t put any effort into how I look tonight. I showered when I got home from work before putting on a pair of white jeans and a simple short-sleeved light blue sweater. The flats on my feet are comfortable enough for me to walk blocks in. I’ll do that after I meet with Holden. I already know I’ll need to decompress before I head back to the Upper East Side where I live.

It’s humid enough outside that I opted to pull my hair into a tight, high ponytail. It tends to curl with the humidity, and right now, it feels like it’s one of the few things I can control in my life.

I swing open the door to the bar, smiling when I see the dragon statue next to it. Since the awning above the door clearly states the bar is called Regrets, I laugh aloud. Hopefully, I won’t have too many of those when I leave in thirty minutes.

I’m barely inside when I spot the man I’m meeting. He’s standing next to a long wooden bar with a glass tumbler in one hand. It has a trace amount of amber liquid in it, which he swallows in a single gulp.

He places the empty glass on the bar, says something to the bartender, and then approaches me.

The jeans and gray T-shirt he’s wearing are a far cry from the tailored suit he had on earlier. He looks more like Joe Campbell now, but Joe was never real. He was a relaxed version of Holden Sheppard. Or maybe he’s the more calculated and cunning version. I still don’t know if he recognized me as the co-owner of Sweet Indulgence when we met in East Hampton.

My personal information was supposed to stay between Mrs. Frye and me. It’s not outside the realm of possibilities that she accidentally let my name slip to him, and he saw an opportunity to swoop in and seduce my company away from me.

I shake off that thought because, in a big picture way, Sweet Indulgence is a small company compared to most of the recent acquisitions of Carden Confectionaries. I know that because I spent part of my afternoon researching the company Holden owns.

“Hello, Greer,” he greets me, but keeps his distance.

I appreciate that, but still, I have to wonder if he’ll keep the discussion on a strictly business level tonight.

“Hi,” I answer succinctly, not bothering to add his name to it because I’m still trying to get used to the fact that it’s not Joe.

“Let’s grab a table.” He motions toward a trio of empty tables. “The bartender is bringing me another scotch. I didn’t order for you because I wasn’t sure what you’d like.”

He knows I like red wine, but I’m glad to hear he didn’t presume anything, because I rarely drink. I did in East Hampton because apparently I was living my life without any inhibitions during that weekend.

I’ve snapped back into reality now.

I take a seat at the table that is closest to the corner. Holden sits directly across from me, but the table is circular and small, so the distance between us is only a few feet.

The bartender appears with Holden’s drink in hand. When he asks me what I’d like, I make it clear. “Just water, please. Light ice. No lemon or lime.”

“I’ll get that for you,” he says in a warm tone.

Holden stares at me as he sips from his glass. He places it down, still not saying anything. I can’t tell if he’s gathering his thoughts or waiting for me to launch this conversation.

Fortunately, the bartender shows up with my water. I down half in one gulp before he’s back at the bar.

“I had no idea who you were in East Hampton, Greer.”

My head pops up. “You didn’t?”

“No fucking idea.” Holden chuckles. “I knew your real name wasn’t Summer Time.”

I manage a small smile. “It doesn’t take a detective to figure that out.”

He smiles, too. “I’ve used the Joe Campbell name at different times over the past fourteen or so years.”

“Why did you use it that weekend?” I ask, sipping another mouthful of water.

“There’s no particular reason.” He shrugs. “Things between us felt fun, and since you tossed out a fake name, I jumped on board and did it, too.”

It makes sense, so I nod. “I had no idea who you were either then.”

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