Page 75 of Truce: Declan
Not cheap.
And that’s not the worst of it. I don’t have time to attend tonight's gala, but I owe her. To say I’ve been busy is an understatement.
But I made Charlotte Grace a promise, and I always keep my promises.
Not that she knows I’m attending. She hasn’t seen me yet. She’s hiding by the bar, a glass of champagne in hand. She’s sipping her bubbly and glancing around the room, probably for a familiar face.
I’m halfway across the room and behind her. She hasn’t so much as spun around entirely for me to admire her dress or the way that she wears the gown, which is sexy as hell.
I’m in two minds about Charlotte. I hate her for getting me arrested, but I appreciate what she did in the courtroom. She put herself out there and admitted her flaws and mishaps.
I truly believe it was Charlotte’s testimony that helped the judge understand my arrest and see through the lies that Jasmine’s attorney kept attempting to spin. I don’t know why Jasmine got out of testifying, but it doesn’t matter. Anything she said would have been a lie. She’d have protected Grant at the expense of our son.
Watching her relinquish custody and say goodbye all over again was heartbreaking.
Zayn cried.
Jasmine cried.
I forced the tears away, but my heart ached, and it still does any time I think about the afternoon that Zayn became mine.
It should have been a happy memory. It was a win, but why does it feel like such a loss?
Emerson, Kyler’s fiancé, agreed to babysit Zayn tonight while I’m at the charity event Charlotte’s father is hosting for the Island Bruisers. When I dropped Zayn off this afternoon, Amber was also there, and she offered to spend the night at Emerson’s to help out with the kids.
Zayn isn’t that much of a handful, but he’s got his issues.
What kid doesn’t?
I’m sure I was a beast for my parents, and somehow, I turned out okay. But don’t ask them. I’m not sure they’d agree.
Charlotte sips her bubbly drink and turns to lean against the bar counter. Her gaze catches mine, and she raises an inquisitive eye.
I’ve been caught staring.
I smile and stroll over to her, ordering a beer for myself.
“I didn’t think you’d come,” Charlotte says, glancing me over. The smile on her face tells me she approves of my tuxedo. Her eyes sparkle, and I swear my jaw hits the floor as I fully admire the view of her dress, including the ample cleavage that she’s showing off.
“You asked for my help, and I wanted to support you.” I take the beer from the bartender, toss a twenty into the tip jar, and take a swig.
The smile grows as she pulls me in for a hug. “Thank you!” Her excitement makes her glow, and I can’t help but feel proud that I’ve put that grin on her face.
“Don’t thank me yet. We haven’t done the introductions with your father.”
Charlotte rolls her eyes at his mention. “Can I tell him we’re getting engaged? Really screw with him.”
I cough on my beer at her suggestion. “I’ll play your fake boyfriend. That’s it.” Engaged? That’s a line I’m not crossing. There are likely reporters and cameras all over the venue. That’s the last kind of attention I need right now, but at least the custody battle is over.
“Thanks, I’ll consider that a win,” Charlotte says and winks at me. She links her arm between mine, places her half-consumed champagne glass on the bar top, and drags me onto the dance floor. “Better make it look convincing.”
“For whom?” I ask, not seeing her father around. Had I not known that she was Charlotte Grace, I wouldn’t have had any inkling who her father is, but now that I do, I’d prefer to stay out of his sights.
“All the other guests,” she says. “We have to make them jealous, like I’m a hot commodity, if I’m going to be auctioned off for a date night.”
I lean in, pulling her against me as I lead her out onto the dance floor. “Maybe I’ll buy that hot date with you,” I whisper into her ear.
A natural smile adorns her face. “Maybe?” she teases, staring up at me. “A fake boyfriend has to at least start the bidding.”
