Page 6
I laugh. "I never thought of it that way, but you're right. Both require constant attention, regular maintenance, and occasional coaxing to perform their best."
"And both are beautiful," he adds, his voice dropping slightly. "In the right hands."
Our eyes meet again, and this time I don't look away.
I open my mouth, not entirely sure what I'm going to say.
His phone buzzes on the table, interrupting the moment. He glances down at it, frowning slightly. "Jane isn’t going to make it. The trailer issue turned into something more complicated than she thought."
I process this information, and feel the flutter of butterflies in my stomach.
“Dessert?” he asks with a mischievous grin.
“Best part of the meal.” I smile back at him.
"I couldn't agree more," he says, and signals the waiter for dessert menus.
As we linger over chocolate mousse, talking about everything and nothing, I'm struck by the strange paths that led us here—from the chaos of the morning to this moment of unexpected connection. Oliver's wild escape, Charlie's timely appearance, the day's surprising successes and this even more surprising evening.
"I'm glad you came today," I admit as we finally prepare to leave. "There’s no telling what would have happened if you hadn’t been there to catch Oliver."
“I’m sure he would’ve stopped running on his own at some point.”
“You grossly underestimate him,” I say laughing.
Outside, the night air carries the scent of the river and pine needles. Charlie walks me to my truck.
"Drive safely back to your hotel," he says. "I enjoyed catching up with you, Tess."
I pause, keys in hand, reluctant to end the evening. "Thank you for dinner. And for catching Oliver. And for listening about the symphony."
He smiles down at me, the corners of his eyes crinkling just a little bit. “You’re so welcome."
As I drive away, I catch his reflection in my rearview mirror—watching until my truck turns the corner. A feeling that's both new and strangely familiar flutters in me, like returning to a place I've always known existed but never actually visited.
I chuckle to myself. This is Charlie, Tess. Charlie Astor. Your best friend’s brother. Perfect and completely off limits. Never gonna happen, girl.
Tomorrow, I'll drive back to Seattle with Oliver. Back to days filled with symphony rehearsals and early morning rides. But for now, just for tonight, I let myself fantasize. Just a little bit…
Chapter 2
Charlie
Itoss my keys onto the counter and grab the stack of mail, thumbing through bills and junk until my fingers land on the first thick, cream-colored envelope. The elegant script addressing me as "Mr. Charles Astor" might as well be written in bright red warning letters. Wedding season. The invitation feels heavy in my hand. Three more almost identical envelopes hide behind it, each one another social minefield waiting to be navigated with the perfect date on my arm.
"Shit," I mutter to Hans, my dachshund, who looks up from his bed with mild interest before deciding my curse isn't worth abandoning his nap for.
I drop the rest of the mail and carry the four wedding invitations to my living room. The floor-to-ceiling windows offer a view of Seattle that still manages to impress me even after five years in this penthouse.
I open the first invitation. Daphne and Rence. June 15th. Whidbey Island.
I rub my temple where a headache is starting to form. Rence is one of our biggest investors at Emerald City Coffee. His father practically bankrolled my first major expansion, and this wedding won't just be a celebration—it'll be a roomful ofpotential business connections and family money looking to back the next big Seattle venture.
The second invitation is for Jack and Sky. San Francisco. They've rented out an entire luxury hotel because, of course they have. Jack is a buddy of mine from school and his family owns half the commercial real estate in San Francisco, and they're not subtle about flaunting it.
"Christ," I mutter, reaching for the third envelope.
Kiley and Hank. Spokane. Hank is the son of one of my distributors. I don’t know why I need to go to this but I know my dad will insist that I’m there.
"And both are beautiful," he adds, his voice dropping slightly. "In the right hands."
Our eyes meet again, and this time I don't look away.
I open my mouth, not entirely sure what I'm going to say.
His phone buzzes on the table, interrupting the moment. He glances down at it, frowning slightly. "Jane isn’t going to make it. The trailer issue turned into something more complicated than she thought."
I process this information, and feel the flutter of butterflies in my stomach.
“Dessert?” he asks with a mischievous grin.
“Best part of the meal.” I smile back at him.
"I couldn't agree more," he says, and signals the waiter for dessert menus.
As we linger over chocolate mousse, talking about everything and nothing, I'm struck by the strange paths that led us here—from the chaos of the morning to this moment of unexpected connection. Oliver's wild escape, Charlie's timely appearance, the day's surprising successes and this even more surprising evening.
"I'm glad you came today," I admit as we finally prepare to leave. "There’s no telling what would have happened if you hadn’t been there to catch Oliver."
“I’m sure he would’ve stopped running on his own at some point.”
“You grossly underestimate him,” I say laughing.
Outside, the night air carries the scent of the river and pine needles. Charlie walks me to my truck.
"Drive safely back to your hotel," he says. "I enjoyed catching up with you, Tess."
I pause, keys in hand, reluctant to end the evening. "Thank you for dinner. And for catching Oliver. And for listening about the symphony."
He smiles down at me, the corners of his eyes crinkling just a little bit. “You’re so welcome."
As I drive away, I catch his reflection in my rearview mirror—watching until my truck turns the corner. A feeling that's both new and strangely familiar flutters in me, like returning to a place I've always known existed but never actually visited.
I chuckle to myself. This is Charlie, Tess. Charlie Astor. Your best friend’s brother. Perfect and completely off limits. Never gonna happen, girl.
Tomorrow, I'll drive back to Seattle with Oliver. Back to days filled with symphony rehearsals and early morning rides. But for now, just for tonight, I let myself fantasize. Just a little bit…
Chapter 2
Charlie
Itoss my keys onto the counter and grab the stack of mail, thumbing through bills and junk until my fingers land on the first thick, cream-colored envelope. The elegant script addressing me as "Mr. Charles Astor" might as well be written in bright red warning letters. Wedding season. The invitation feels heavy in my hand. Three more almost identical envelopes hide behind it, each one another social minefield waiting to be navigated with the perfect date on my arm.
"Shit," I mutter to Hans, my dachshund, who looks up from his bed with mild interest before deciding my curse isn't worth abandoning his nap for.
I drop the rest of the mail and carry the four wedding invitations to my living room. The floor-to-ceiling windows offer a view of Seattle that still manages to impress me even after five years in this penthouse.
I open the first invitation. Daphne and Rence. June 15th. Whidbey Island.
I rub my temple where a headache is starting to form. Rence is one of our biggest investors at Emerald City Coffee. His father practically bankrolled my first major expansion, and this wedding won't just be a celebration—it'll be a roomful ofpotential business connections and family money looking to back the next big Seattle venture.
The second invitation is for Jack and Sky. San Francisco. They've rented out an entire luxury hotel because, of course they have. Jack is a buddy of mine from school and his family owns half the commercial real estate in San Francisco, and they're not subtle about flaunting it.
"Christ," I mutter, reaching for the third envelope.
Kiley and Hank. Spokane. Hank is the son of one of my distributors. I don’t know why I need to go to this but I know my dad will insist that I’m there.
Table of Contents
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