Page 16 of Love in Tandem
And she had. Oh goodness, she had.
Charlotte gave up on finding a light switch and leaned her forehead against the door. “Just a moment, please.”
Yes. A moment. A long moment. A moment to figure out how she’d gone from anticipating a pajama-clad Beach Blanket Bingo evening to standing inside a utility closet thirty miles away wearing not only a fancy dress, but the heavy cloak of humiliation. And Spanx!
TWENTY MINUTES EARLIER
“Excuse me,” Charlotte said to a short waitress with purple highlights carrying a tray full of beverages above her shoulder.
“One moment,” the waitress said without slowing her stride.
Charlotte blew out a breath and watched the waitress disappear down a narrow hallway where a chalkboard sign with an arrow pointed to a Wedding Rehearsal Dinner, apparently. She took a step further into the restaurant, her gaze connecting with the long rows of cheesecake displayed behind glass. Oh, she was definitely grabbing one of those on the way out.
Wooden floorboards creaked beneath her shifting weight. The restaurant, connected to a hotel, had an industrial feel to it. Brick walls. Piped ceilings. Scuffed floors. Live music floated through the air from a piano player wearing a fedora and a sultry-sounding vocalist in a black dress. Nice.
“I assume you’re here for one of the parties.” The waitress returned and glanced at a tablet on the hostess stand. “Wedding or birthday?”
“Oh. I don’t know exactly.”
The waitress glanced up from the tablet, impatience written all over her petite features. “We’re booked for the evening. If you don’t have a reservation or you’re not here with one of the parties—”
“I am. I think. I mean—” Charlotte twisted her fingers together. “I’m here because of an elderly lady.” The song ended and a polite round of applause interrupted anything else Charlotte might have tried saying if she could’ve figured out what to say.
“Follow me.” The waitress motioned to Charlotte while speaking to a couple who had entered behind her. “Birthday party to the right. Wedding party down the hall. Otherwise I’ll be back in a moment.”
The waitress marched to the right, leaving Charlotte no choice but to run after her. Another song started up. Something familiar but Charlotte couldn’t place it. The waitress led Charlotte to a long table near the front, close to the piano, where an elderly gentleman sat in a gray suit with a red carnation in his top buttonhole. The waitress motioned to the table. “I’ll take drink orders when the rest of your party gets here.”
“Oh, but I’m not—” Either the waitress didn’t hear or didn’t care. Charlotte had a guess as to which. Either way, she disappeared, leaving Charlotte alone with a man who appeared even more perplexed.
“Hi,” Charlotte began, not sure whether to take a seat and introduce herself or blurt out the news and head straight for the cheesecake. “I’m Charlotte.” She pulled out a chair, deciding some good old-fashioned manners might be the best starting point to lead into a conversation about death.
“What’s that?” the man said, cupping his ear and leaning over the table toward her.
“I said my name is Charlotte,” she spoke up to be heard over the music. Maybe having this conversation right next to the piano wasn’t a great idea.
He frowned, shaking his head and leaning closer, his red carnation butting into the salt and pepper shakers.
She leaned forward and tried again. If they continued this game, they’d be touching noses in a minute. “I’m Charlotte.”
“Charlotte?”
“Charlotte,” she confirmed. “And I’m here because of Melba Clark.”
He leaned back, a grin spreading across his face. Her words must have landed this time. He pointed to the empty chair with red and white Happy Birthday balloons tied to it and winked. “Me too.”
Oh dear. Was this Melba’s birthday party? No wonder she kept talking about cake. Charlotte adjusted her dress, regretting the fact she couldn’t fit into it anymore without Spanx. This situation was uncomfortable enough without the inability to take a full breath added into the mix.
He must have picked up on her discomfort. His smile faded. “You okay, dear?”
Charlotte shook her head. “I’m afraid I have some bad news about Melba.”
He frowned and shook his head, cupping his ear again. “What’s that, dear?”
“Melba,” Charlotte said, trying to speak loudly and enunciate over the music. “I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but she passed away today.”
“What?”
“Melba passed away today.”
