Page 47 of Good Girl

“Don’t you snap at me, Charlotte,” my mother bit back immediately, and regret churned up with guilt in my chest.

“I’m just saying, it hasn’t hurt me to branch out a little,” I tried again. “Being a little adventurous in life is good for the soul, right? You opened an inn. That’s a leap that made you happy, and maybe I want to do something like that but for me.”

“Opening a business is respectable, Charlotte. Is this about your silly art? I’ll tell you now what I told you then. Art is not a job and it is a silly waste of time!” She had drilled that into me ever since I admitted an interest in painting. It was a desire still in my heart, but I hadn’t had the chance to paint in months.

“Goodness, you’re always so rude and brittle when you come back from that place.” My mother wrung her hands together, and her face fell in the way it always did when the burning word ofdisappointmentwas seconds away from being uttered.

There was no winning this discussion. “I’m sorry.”

“So you should be.” My mother sighed tightly. “What on earth would your father say, hmm? He’s looking down hoping to be proud of you, and instead...” She trailed off, leaving the sentence hanging, and a painful static flooded my chest. She had used my father against me more times than I cared to count, and it was the one trump card she had that I couldn’t ever top.

We ate separately after the other guests checked out, and other than a passing comment of being up early to get to work, my mother left me alone for the rest of the night. All my life, I had worked so hard to make her happy, to be the daughter she wanted me to be, but doing so had squashed down the person I actually am. Derek and the others seemed to see that side of me, though. They cared for and excited the parts of me that had been long buried, and I enjoyed that. If only I could share it with my mother.

She would likely pass where she stood if she found out I had not only broken my no-sex before-marriage vows, but also with three men. At the same time.

It was to be a secret I would carry to the grave.

Taking my old room, I cuddled up under the covers and tried to ignore how all my old toys and books still lined the walls. My old bedroom was like a time capsule, and despite my hints to my mother that she could change the room, even just to give her one more room to rent out, she had always refused point blank. I would return each weekend and enter a room locked in my youth, and somehow, it canceled out my growth as an adult. I always felt small and somewhat insignificant here.

This time, though, it was different. Tonight, as I tried to settle down and sleep, my phone lit up with several different text messages from Derek, Samuel, and Matt. Each had been understanding of my unavailability this weekend, and while we’d only been hanging out for a few weeks, I found I missed them terribly. Luckily, if the texts were anything to go by, that sentiment was shared.

Samuel teased me about being utterly bored with nothing to play with. Matt told me he had gone for a ride on his motorcycle and most definitely missed having a passenger. Derek was more direct, sending such a filthy text about what he would do to me with two dildos and a pinwheel that I flushed deep red and shoved my phone under my pillow. Despite the flush of embarrassment, it was exhilarating to be wanted.

I had never felt that in my life.

The next day, my mother put me to work cleaning the rooms of the guests who had recently checked out. While it was hard work, the morning passed quickly, and I was happy for my thoughts to be churned up with music blaring in my ears. By lunchtime, all the rooms were spick and span, and I headed down to the front desk to let my mother know I would be taking a break.

Those words died in my throat when I came off the stairs and walked in on my mother smiling up at none other than Jonathan, whose thin face broke into a smirk the second he laid eyes on me.

“Jonathan?” My stomach dropped to my feet. “What are you doing here?”

“Charlotte!” My mother turned to me with a smile so wide I couldn’t even make out what color of lipstick she was wearing today. “I called Jonathan to come and take you out to lunch.”

“What? Why? Why would you do that, Mom?” I stammered. A phantom ache whispered across my wrist as I remembered the last time I had faced Jonathan and I did not want to repeat it.

“Well, you said last night that you wanted to branch out a little,” my mother said. “So I thought, why not have a lovely lunch with an old friend while you’re here?”

This was not lunch with a friend. Jonathan wasnota friend. This was a setup, and from the smug look on Jonathan’s face, he was well aware. I wouldn’t be surprised if he had helped plan it.

“I can’t,” I said swiftly. “I have too much—”

“Nonsense.” My mother grabbed my arm and pulled me closer. “I freed you up an hour for lunch, plus, it would be so rude to decline.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Please, you’re always hungry.”

“Mom, I—”

“Charlotte, stop being so rude.” Her grip on my arm tightened, and my heart sank with the realization that there was no getting out of this. Jonathan’s beady eyes locked on mine, and I breathed a heavy sigh.

“Fine. A quick lunch.”

22

CHARLOTTE

“Are you sure I can’t get you anything else?” Jonathan fixed me with an expectant stare as if I were about to blurt out my desire to buy everything in sight in the entire cafe. The look made my skin crawl, and I clutched my wrapped sandwich a little tighter.

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