Page 37

"No, stay. Catch up with your friends. I've got it." My tone is light, but I know my eyes are probably telling a different story.

I turn around and walk away before giving Charlie a chance to answer.

I take deep breaths while I’m waiting for another glass of wine. I’m careful not to look back at the table. I refuse to give Claire the satisfaction.

After getting my wine, I head to the restroom. I need to pee but even more so, I need to stay away from those two right now.

When I walk out of the stall, Claire is standing at the counter, swiping on red lipstick and admiring herself in the mirror.

We lock eyes in the mirror and I wish I was anywhere but here right now.

Claire's perfect smile doesn't reach her eyes as she turns to face me.

"So, Tina, right?" she asks, dabbing at the corner of her mouth with her pinky finger.

"Tess," I correct, moving to wash my hands.

"Right, sorry." She doesn't sound sorry at all. "You and Charlie seem...cozy."

I focus on the soap dispenser, fighting to keep my expression neutral. "We are."

Claire laughs, the sound like tinkling crystal. "That's adorable. How long have you been seeing each other?"

"A while," I answer vaguely, not wanting to give her the satisfaction of knowing the truth.

She leans against the counter. "Let me guess—he flew you on his private jet, wined and dined you, made you feel special?"

I dry my hands, saying nothing.

"Charlie's always been good at the grand gesture." She sighs, examining her manicure. "It's his specialty, actually. The jet, the fancy hotels, the perfect weekend getaway. He probably even bought you the dress that you’re wearing. He's got it down to a science."

My stomach tightens. "What are you trying to say?"

"Oh honey," Claire's voice drips with false sympathy. "I'm just trying to save you some heartache. Charlie's a sweetheart, but I feel like I should warn you—he's not exactly the settling down type."

My stomach tightens. "Is that right?"

Claire gives a delicate shrug. "I've known Charlie for years. He's a total playboy. Always has been, even back at Stanford." She laughs. "God, the number of broken hearts he left in his wake…"

I can’t take a moment more with Claire.

"Thanks for the insight," I say flatly. "But I think I can manage my own relationships."

I turn away from her, not bothering to wait for a response. As I push through the bathroom door, I hear her scoff behind me.

The bar feels too loud, too crowded now. I need air. Instead of heading back to our table, I veer toward the hotel's side exit that leads to a small garden terrace. The fresh air hits my face, and I take a deep breath.

My phone buzzes in my purse.

Charlie:Everything ok?

I stare at the screen, not sure how to respond. Am I ok? Claire's words bounce around in my head. ‘He's not exactly thesettling down type.’ What am I doing here, pretending to be dating Charlie? This is crazy.

Me:Needed some air. I'm on the terrace.

Leaning against the stone railing, I look up at the San Francisco night sky, barely able to make out any stars through the city lights. A few minutes later, the door behind me opens.

Charlie:Want company?