Page 11 of Charming Like Us
The two-hour carride to The Walnut screws me over. It’s too much down time to Philly, and I end up replaying the awkward moment in Anacapri over and over in my head. I can’t tell if it was actually as bad as I’m remembering or if I’m imagining the interaction worse on each replay.
In any case, I was rejected for a kiss.
I’ve never been rejected before. Not like that.
Charlie and I are buzzed into the building, and while we ride the elevator to the third floor, I glance at the time on my watch.
1 a.m.
Who has an appointment at 1 a.m. that’s not a booty call or something that could put you in jail?
Charlie.That’s who.
My ear picks up sudden comms sound.
“Farrow to Omega, I’ve already left for the lake house. We’re trying to make it there before sunrise. Unless some bad shit happens, you probably won’t be able to reach me on comms for a while.”
I feel my mouth curve. His maverick ass is actually informing our lead aboutwherehe is. Albeit, after he’s already started driving to the Smoky Mountains.
I click my mic and speak quietly on comms. “Have fun on your honeymoon, Redford. Don’t be too sad I’m not there to make a good time better.”
“I think you meanmessier, Oliveira.”
I stifle a laugh since Charlie is literally beside me and can’t hear the radio. I have enough time to say back, “A hundred-and-one tabloids with your face front-and-center would disagree.”
“You mean the ones that say I’ve had the wedding of the century?” I can practically see his smug cheek-to-cheek smile with that ace thrown.
He got me.
Farrow and Maximoff’s wedding made every headline, every entertainment site, late-night show, and Instagram feed. I love them, but my friend getting hitched recently, especially to aHale,has been a painful reminder that I’m…alone.
And I’m about to face my crush that last ended like a pie in the face.
I’d joke to Farrow about letting me tag along on his honeymoon if there were time. But the elevator doors slide open, and mygood timeon comms comes to an abrupt halt.
Officially, I’ve lost the nerve to actually see Jack. Avoidance isn’t an option. I’m here for work, not a social outing. The only way to minimize embarrassment is to ignore Jack. Maybe I won’t even ask for the clothes he borrowed anymore.
I waffle between the options before I land on one:
Professional.
Keep it professional.
I settle with this plan as we reach Jack’s apartment.
Protocol:I answer Charlie’s doors and knock on the ones he visits.
But before I put my fist to the wood, I look to Charlie.
My client leans a shoulder next to the doorframe, his brows rising like he knows what I’m about to ask. “You’ll find out why we’re here in five seconds,” he says. “I’m not about to ruin the surprise.”
“Who said I was going to be surprised?” I knock on the door. I always plan for the unpredictable with Charlie.
The door swings open.
Jack Highland stands on the other side.
I cage my breath.
