Page 42

Bailey

Charity functions require the most work out of any of Mom and Marcus’s investments. Who would have thought a charity event would mean a bunch of wealthy aristocrats get dressed up in new, fancy clothes and stand around in a large room drinking together?

For the men, it’s simple. New tux, comb the hair, shine the shoes. For women — a whole day, sometimes two days, of preparation takes place to make yourself the most breathtakingly beautiful woman in the room.

Gag.

Let’s not forget to mention the small talk. The mingling. The smiling — God, the smiling. I smile until my face feels like it will crack, plastering my best yes, I’m approachable look on my face.

Savannah loves any kind of event. The most elegant of the sisters — even donning her black lipstick — she makes it look so easy. Mila typically finds her friends and swoons over whatever boy she’s in love with this week.

Then, there’s me.

Up until this year, I’ve been forced to follow Drew from group to group and mingle idly while he talks cases and investments. This year, I’ll be flying solo, as Mason is never forced to go to these events like us girls are. I envy him.

The nicest part about getting ready for the event is getting mani-pedi’s with Savannah the afternoon before. Mila opted out, choosing to go with her friends this year, instead.

Santelli’s is the one and only place Carpenter women go to prepare for any function — us and half the city. It’s almost impossible to get an appointment, but somehow, we always seem to.

Savannah and I sit in the pedicure chairs soaking, while she reads a magazine and eats the complimentary chocolates they always hand out. I abstain, guilty from all the B&J’s I’ve consumed in the last week.

“Will Spike be coming tonight?”

She drops the magazine down and rolls her eyes at the ceiling. “I broke up with him. He was boring.”

I scoff, chuckling. “What isn’t boring to you?”

She eyes me, raising one delicate eyebrow. Her cheeks flame, like she’s thought of something, but she quickly replaces it with a cool mask of indifference. “Men are boring.”

“Okay . . . so, do you like a girl, then?”

“No. I just don’t have time. If you had been here, you would have known I got the main Sugar Plum Fairy in the Nutcracker.”

I gasp, lightly swatting her arm. “Why didn’t you say anything? ”

She tries to fight a smile, but she loses. “You’ve been too busy moping around. And don’t even get me started on your cave of despair.”

“I cleaned it up,” I argue, embarrassed. “I’m sorry you felt like you couldn’t tell me. I was just feeling sorry for myself.”

She puts the magazine down on the stand next to her and watches me, searching my face. “Are you okay?”

I nod, finally able to tell the truth. “I am.”

“Can I ask what happened?”

I bite my tongue, running through the events of the last two months.

“I fell in love,” I murmur quietly, staring at my toes under the bubbling jets.

“That’s big,” Savannah says, her eyes narrowing.

I let out a deep breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding.

“It was.”

“So, what happened?”

I shrug. “It wasn’t meant to be, I guess. It was only supposed to be a fling.”

“Oh, so just fucking.”

I cringe, heat flooding my face.

“You’re my hot sister, not my grandma. Remember, I found you handcuffed to a bed by your ex.”

She’s right. Savannah and I have shared everything since we were kids. It wouldn’t be right to withhold this from her.

“You know, I think there was something there.”

“So, why leave?”

I eye her. Has she gone crazy?

“Do you not remember our mother? She practically forbade me from seeing him.”

“Did you not see my last boyfriend? She hated him. But she got over it.”

“Mom just has this idea of me getting married to a man like Marcus and following in her footsteps.”

“Sounds incredibly dull,” Savannah murmurs, touching up her lipstick in a compact.

“Yeah,” I concede, unsure what point I’m even arguing. “She would disown me.”

“Bullshit. Mom loves you. You’re her favorite, you know?”

“Okay, you don’t have to lie to me. I can handle the truth.”

“I’m serious,” she laughs. “She was so lost without you these last couple weeks.”

“Yeah, she didn’t have anyone to yell at.”

Savannah rolls her eyes at this. “I think she’s lonely. She wants someone to care about her. You know, like Dad did, but she’s scared. Money and all.”

I shake my head. I’ve never been able to wrap my head around Mom and money. It’s like an addiction to her.

“Do you really want to live your life under Mom’s thumb?” Savannah asks. “Or would you rather have great sex, eat shitty, delicious food, and get fat and happy?”

I pause, thinking through what she had just said. I lean my head back in the chair as two techs come over to start on our toes. I choose a shade of crimson that I feel will perfectly match my dress and heels for the night. Savannah chooses black, matching her entire persona.

As they paint away, completely engrossed in their own conversation, I find Kenya’s words echoing in my head .

Find what makes you happy.

What makes me happy?

Charlie made me happy, for a short time.

My friends make me happy. My siblings make me happy.

My writing makes me happy.

Freedom makes me happy.

Charlie brought a sense of freedom I’ve never known. In New Orleans, I was free to make my own choices, be my own person. No mixers with high profile execs and CEO’s. No worrying that my makeup was perfect one-hundred percent of the time. I had no need for a therapist, because I had allowed the person I was most afraid of to come out and see the sun, for once.

“You look like you’re thinking extra hard over there,” Savannah says. “You’ve got that look.”

“What look?”

Her eyes flash with amusement. “That look that says you’re going to rebel.”

On the ride home, I roll up the divider between myself and Darius — a new driver Marcus hired while I was gone. I just want a moment alone to collect my thoughts before the party tonight. I can’t stop thinking about what Savannah said about Charlie.

I suck in a deep breath through my teeth, my stomach roiling with nausea. Surely, he’s read my letter by now. Is he afraid to call?

Or maybe he’s moved on, my thoughts intrude.

Would he move on that fast? He didn’t ask me to stay. I mean, we did make a deal.

I haven’t allowed myself to question why he hasn’t reached out to me. Talking to Savannah shot that plan all to shit. Now, I can’t think of anything else.

I could text Andi and ask how he’s doing, but she’ll know something’s up. The last thing I want is her to tell Charlie I miss him when he’s currently courting some other girl. How embarrassing, holding on to someone who doesn’t want you.

Then again, he did tell me to call him if I ever get tired of California. That has to mean something, right? Right?

“You know what, Bailey, just fucking call him. Pretend like you forgot something.”

Trying not to dwell on the fact that I’m now talking to myself, I dial the number into my phone and press it to my ear. I hang it up a second later, before it even has a chance to connect and toss it like it burnt me.

“Jesus Christ, Bailey,” I grumble, bending down to pick the phone up off the floor. Stop being a pussy and call him.

I repeat the call and this time, I let it ring.

Only, it just rings once, before going straight to voicemail. The standard voicemail voice comes over the phone, telling me to leave a message. It’s not even Charlie’s voice.

Sinking back into the seat, I just hang up. If that’s not a sign from the Universe, I don’t know what is.

The car stops and I realize we’ve made it home and I didn’t register it .

Wiping the stray tears out of the corners of my eyes, I step out and shut the door behind me before I see someone that wants to talk to me. My entire plan centers around going up to my room and having a good cry before my sisters get home to prepare for tonight.

Except when I get to my room, I spot my laptop discarded on the floor by my bed and an idea strikes me.

It’s crazy, probably stupid, and I don’t know what the hell the plan is once I start it. But it feels right when I sit down and open up a blank Word document.

Who says Heath and Celia can’t have a sequel, just because Charlie and I can’t?

“God, could this dress be any tighter?” I complain as Mila helps me strap into the crimson lace and silk sheath dress that I’ve chosen to wear tonight.

“Well, it doesn’t help that you’ve been eating ice cream every night.”

I scoff at my youngest sister, though I know she’s right. I’ve gained five pounds since I bought this dress three months ago. It’s my own fault.

“Just wait until you get to be my age. It’s not as easy to eat whatever you want and not gain a pound.”

Mila finishes tying the ribbons in the back of the built-in corset and steps back to admire her handy work.

“Oh, I don’t plan on living that long.”

“Mila!” I snap, concerned .

“Relax,” she says. “I saw a fortune teller last week that said I would die young.”

I roll my eyes and grab my clutch off the nightstand before leading her downstairs.

“Don’t let Mom hear you talk like that,” I warn quietly as we make our way out to the car. “She’ll have you baptized in salt water.”

“Hi, Christian,” Mila beams, her cheeks flaming as the chauffeur opens the door for us. I give him a curt nod, having avoided him since I came home. He smiles gently, though I can see from the look in his eyes that he no longer bears any feelings of unrequited love for me. Maybe he finally found a lady friend.

Thank God.

“It’s about time you two showed up,” Savannah mumbles, applying her lipstick in a lighted compact.

“Miss Dark-and-Depressing over here was complaining about the weight she’s gained,” Mila says, jabbing a thumb in my direction.

Savannah meets my eyes over the mirror. “I think it looks sexy.”

“Thank you,” I beam, elbowing Mila in the arm. “You hear that? I look sexy Miss I’m-Going-to-Die-Any-Day-Now.”

“God, Mila,” Savannah scoffs, rolling her eyes. “Don’t be so dramatic.”

The Hilton is hosting tonight’s event, with more than two hundred people in the large grand ballroom. I’ve been here before, but every time I step through the golden doors, it takes my breath away. The ceilings are tall, adorned with a large mural of angels in the clouds. Tall windows stand at the far side of the room, showcasing the Los Angeles skyline.

Tables are set everywhere with name cards on each. Everything is run like a military operation. The staff are expected to keep everyone straight and in their correct seats, glasses filled with bubbling champagne and not a single person goes without a plate of some of the most expensive food the city can buy.

Mom and Marcus are already here, making their rounds like nothing happened. Currently, they’re stood by the mayor and his wife, laughing dramatically at something the mayor says. I roll my eyes and fall in step beside my sisters, already counting down the hours until this event is over.

“I’ll be right back,” Savannah says coolly, her eyes trained on something across the room that I can’t see. I watch her as she walks up to group of girls around her age.

Mila is watching her friends huddled together on the other side of the room. I grit my teeth.

“You don’t have to hang out with me,” I say, though I want to force her to stay. “I’ll be okay.”

She eyes me, unsure. “Are you sure?”

I nod, searching around the room. I see a few people I used to hang around, but they’re mostly Drew’s friends. I’m practically an outsider now. “I’ll be good.”

“Okay, well I’ll be right over there if you need me.”

I watch her leave, anxiety bubbling in my stomach. I’m about to go to the donations table when a hot hand on my elbow stops me. I jump, my heart hammering a thousand beats per minute.

“It’s been a while,” Drew says, standing beside me. The familiar smell of his cologne that I loved so much hits my nostrils and my stomach revolts. Now, it just makes my head ache. “How are you doing?”

I square my shoulders, searching around the room for any excuse to leave. “Good. Haven’t been chained to a bed in a while. It’s been relieving, to say the least.”

He lets out a sigh, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“I guess I deserved that. I never apologized for how I treated you.”

“Treated me?” I scoff. “You’ve been harassing me for months.”

He shakes his head. “I missed you. I was upset. When Coulter called me, I lost my mind, knowing you were with another man.”

Excuse me? Charlie called him.

“Charlie called you?”

“Yeah. Made me realize what I’d done. I knew I needed to apologize, but I had to do it in person.”

My gut quivers, my stomach dancing like it’s filled with a million butterflies.

I shake my head. “Not necessary. I’m just glad you showed your true colors before we got married.”

“Bailey, if you would just agree to try it, I’m sure you would enjoy it.”

I look him dead in the eye. “Oh, I’ve tried it since then. In fact, I’ve done a lot of things since I left you, with a man who made me feel safe. And Drew,” I tell him, leaning in, “I enjoyed every moment.”

“Coulter? Your mom told me about him. Poor bartender. No real prospects. ”

“Will beat you to a pulp if he ever meets you? Yep, that’s the one. And for the record, he owns the bar.”

“What about our plans?” Drew asks, catching my arm as I’m about to walk away. “I loved you, Bailey. I’m sure we can work this out.”

I look to where his hand is sealed tightly around my wrist and anger boils inside me so hot the back of my neck breaks out in a sweat. “If you ever touch me again, I will use garden shears to cut your dick off and mail it to that witch you call a mother.” I rip my hand away from his grasp and walk away.

He calls after me, but I simply hold a finger above my head, garnering a gasp from an elderly lady at the table next to me and a chuckle from her husband.

I stop at the donations table, having decided to make my contribution and leave. Such a shame the beautiful dress I’m wearing will go to waste. I fill out my form, with the customary amount my sisters and I always donate and move to hand it over.

I should have never come back here. I don’t belong here anymore.

“Here,” I smile, handing my check to the woman working the table. The same time I do, so does someone else. I jerk as our hands collide and that familiar tingle slides up my back.

“Wow, what a generous donation,” the woman smiles, beaming at the other guest. “You, as well,” she nods to me, before scurrying off to grab our tax receipts.

I step back from the table, allowing myself to finally look at him.

Stormy gray eyes zero in on mine .

“What are you doing here?” I breathe, clutching my locket.

Charlie’s hands are shoved in the pockets of his tux pants and he’s watching me as if he can’t believe I’m real.

“Came to donate to charity, of course,” he murmurs. The timbre of his voice causes goosebumps to raise on my arms.

My eyes narrow. This can’t be happening. Not right now, in this room full of people.

“Here we are.” The lady returns, handing us each our receipts. Charlie eyes me, searching my face.

I want to run to him. I want to jump into his arms and kiss him like I’ve dreamed for the last couple weeks. I just want to feel him.

So, I walk the other way.

I make it all the way to the back door, entering the gardens before he catches up to me.

“Please don’t run.” I should have known he would catch up to me in no time. My heart races in my chest, fluttering when his fingers brush the back of my arm.

I whirl on him, my hair flying around me and completely abandoning the delicate curls Mila had added earlier.

“You just show up here, of all places?” I snap. “I tried to call you.”

“Yeah, I did.” His eyes darken, a look I don’t recognize on his features. “And I was on the fucking plane.”

I’m thankful only a few of the other party guests have made it out on to the terrace because Marcus would kill me if I was in a scandal when he’s facing the biggest case of his career.

“Here to make another deal?” I snap, bitterness souring my tongue .

“I am. I saw you tell Drew off. Good thing, too, because I was a minute away from ripping his arms off.”

I shake my head and huff through my teeth. I step into the maze to get further away from the party and come to a clearing. A fountain sits at the center, the water glistening under the dim lights overhead. It would be almost serene if my pulse wasn’t racing so fast it drowns out all coherent thoughts in my head.

“Couldn’t find enough casual sex in New Orleans?”

“Actually, as it turns out, I’m in love with you.”

We both fall silent, staring at each other. My chest rises and falls quickly as the blood roars in my ears.

“Don’t mock me,” I whisper, my eyes burning with tears. I wondered how long it would take him to find the note. When he didn’t call, I knew it was really over. I never expected to see him here, tonight, of all places.

He takes a step forward, reaching for me but dropping his hands. God, he looks so handsome. My body yearns for him in ways I wasn’t aware were possible.

“You want the truth? I’ve been in love with you for years.”

“Bullshit,” I quip, though it sounds weak, even to my own ears. “You hated me.”

“No. I’ve loved you since the day of Mom’s funeral. I remember the exact moment. I barely knew you, yet I couldn’t stop thinking of you. I stayed away from you because I blamed myself for Mom’s death. Then, you showed up as my neighbor and blew that to shit.”

He takes another step toward me and this time I don’t back up.

“You said I made you feel free, right? Well, you make me feel grounded for the first time in my life. I want to wake up every day to you burning pancakes, or come home to you writing a book.” He reaches up, brushing a thumb over a stray tear that slides down my cheek. Just that small amount of contact has electricity shooting through me. “I want to watch you smile, watch you laugh. I want to hear those sexy little moans while you’re in my bed.”

“Charlie . . .” I start, resisting the urge to lean into his palm when he caresses my face. “We had a deal.”

“Fuck the deal. I want you to be mine.”

Apprehension swells in my chest, trying to force me to believe it’s too good to be true.

“You’re worried.” It’s not a question.

Yeah, what if you decide you don’t want me anymore?

“I don’t want to mess things up,” I admit, finally.

He takes my face in both hands, studying me. “I’ll make you a deal.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll promise to always chase after you when I fuck up and you run, because we both know I will, as long as you promise to let me catch you.”

My chest swells until I think my heart might explode. I close the small distance between us and throw myself at him, wrapping my arms around his neck. Charlie chuckles darkly, stumbling, but holding me so tight I think my ribs might crack. I inhale the scent of his cologne, feel his strong arms grasping me and suddenly I know, this is my home. Where I belong.

“I thought I would have to argue my case a lot more. I even rehearsed. ”

I chuckle through the tears in my eyes. I pull back to look him in the eyes.

“I’ve missed you,” I whisper, hovering my lips over his.

“I thought I lost you,” he says, his voice rough.

He kisses me, holding me to him. Heat curls my toes and I melt into his kiss, groaning because it doesn’t seem real.

“I couldn’t think while you were gone,” he says against my lips. “I sat at that airport for hours trying to decide if I should come after you. Then, I found your letter a couple days ago and it gutted me that I had let you leave.”

“I’m glad you didn’t,” I murmur, kissing him, again. “I had some things to work on here before I was ever going to make you happy.”

He pulls back with a rough sound, setting me on my feet, but keeping an arm banded around my back.

“You always make me happy. In fact,” he says, reaching into his coat and pulling something out. “I knew this was going to go one of two ways . . . either you would hate me and send me on my way or, you would accept that I fucking love you and still feel the way you felt when you wrote me that letter.”

He opens the small, black velvet box. The ring inside gleams in the dim light of the lights throughout the garden.

A well of emotions hit me all at once. I’m certain my heart stops.

“Charlie?” My voice shakes when I talk.

“It was my mom’s. I want it to have a second chance at a long and happy marriage. It doesn’t have to be right now, but yes, that’s what I’m asking,” he lets out a gruff breath. “I can get down on one knee if that’s what you want, but I don’t want to scare you.”

I meet his eyes, tearing my face away from the ring. He’s letting me see how he feels. The turmoil in his eyes — this man loves me.

“Yes,” I murmur, after a pause.

“What?” His eyes darken until they’re almost black.

I nod, pressing against him and wrapping my arms around his neck. “Yes.”

He groans in satisfaction, wrapping his arms around me and kissing me passionately.

“So, it’s a deal?” he grunts raggedly, his lips against mine.

I smile. “It’s a deal.”

“Thank fucking God.”

“Can we leave?” I ask, against his lips.

“Say when, baby.”