Page 44 of The Billionaire's Second Chance
“Well, how would it look if I showed up at the restaurant with red, puffy eyes on my honeymoon? And anyway, you didn’t mindthatmuch, did you?” She gave Ryan such a suggestive look that I laughed aloud. Charlie turned to look at me, grinning.
“I’m not sure if I should apologize or not,” I said.
“Not to them. Room service?” he smirked. He was looking at Ryan, raising one eyebrow at his friend, but I knew who his words were for. “No, I don’t think you need to apologize to Ryan.” Ryan laughed, nodding. “You should apologize tome,” Charlie said. “I cried, too: a single, manly tear, and I was all alone at my apartment, no room service to be had.”
“You didn’t mentionthatduring your review.”
“Well,” he started, lifting one shoulder. I didn’t get to hear why not as Flora turned to him excitedly.
“Oh, did you read it?” she asked. “Good, right? I didn’t think that one would be your style, Charlie, or I would have recommended it.”
“What she means is there were no werewolves,” Charlie stage-whispered in my ear. “I like the werewolves.”
“For fu–Pete’ssake,” Ryan swore, glancing at the crowd around us as if it were full of teachers like his wife, and not New York’s tech and literary elites. “Please, Samantha. You’re an agent. Pull all the strings you can, I’m begging you: no more werewolf dukes. These two–” he gestured to his wife, then Charlie, “are a menace.”
“Oh,Pete off, Ryan,” Charlie said, and Flora laughed. “I’m trying to get Sami to let me peek at her queries,” he told her, and her blue eyes widened. “She gets hundreds; there hasgotto be at least one werewolf mafioso duke in there–”
“Charlie,” I laughed. “I promise, you will be the first to know if I get one.”
The string quartet changed songs.
“We should get back to schmoozing,” Charlie said good-naturedly. “Ryan, I’ll see you Friday.”
“It was really good to see you, Sam,” Flora said. “Next time you’re at school, come by my classroom. And…” she added, “thank you so much for doing this. It really makes a difference to all the students to have someone supporting the school campaigns.”
Her earnest expression made me feel slightly guilty. “You should really thank Charlie,” I deflected. “He’s been volunteering for longer; I’m just here to raise money.”
“Oh, I know,” she said, leaning in closer. She smelled sweet and pretty, like fresh-cut flowers. “I heard about the award. But it’s the results that matter even if this isn’t yourpassion, like it is Charlie’s.”
“Is it?” I asked. “His passion?” I’d seen him in the classroom. He was good at it.
“Well, by the way Ryan talks about work, his passion is certainlynotmanaging a company,” she said, laughing, then pursed her lips thoughtfully. “I think he likes solving problems. He likes the challenge.”
I hoped the low lighting hid my blush. Charlie himself had told me the same thing–I like a challenge. It had been in averydifferent context.
“And you should see him with the kids. He’s…” She smiled fondly, and I thought she was probably picturing the same thing I was. How seriously he took his assignment. The way he controlled the classroom so completely, the way he made it look effortless.
“Surprising,” I said. She looked at me with an amused expression on her pretty face. “I dropped in on one of his club meetings a couple weeks ago,” I explained.
“Is it surprising?” she asked. I could see the laugh on her face, although I couldn’t hear it over the chatter of conversation. “I don’t think so. He’s like a kid himself. Of course they love him.” I frowned–that wasn’t what I had been thinking. Charlie wasn’t childlike in his teaching. She’d been more correct the first time: hewaspassionate. Confident. “See you soon, Sam. And good luck,” she whispered.
CHAPTER23
Charlie
“AskingFlora if I flirted with her sister?”
I bent close to Sami’s ear, so close that I could smell the warm, clean scent of her skin. Ryan had set off for the auction tables with his wife, hopefully bidding up another tropical vacation.
“Very funny,” she said, staring straight ahead. “She’s here tonight. Hazel. You could flirt with her now. I’d hate for you to miss your shot.”
“I don’t think so,” I said, my voice husky. Her eyes slid over to mine, one eyebrow gently lifted in a question. “I doubt a caterer has much in the way of charitable giving funds.”
For just a flicker of a moment, a soft, sweet smile replaced the polite, fixed one she’d been wearing, before her face iced over into cold professionalism again, and my stomach turned liquid.I got to see this,I thought. This Sami that she kept hidden away. At that moment, I felt the incredible weight of it. How impossibly tenuous this was.
I love her.
The thought made it hard to breathe, my suit tight around my shoulders, constricting–and then, in the next second…
