Chapter Forty Charlotte
CHAPTER FORTY
CHARLOTTE
He’s the worst, right?
A FTER MONTHS OF RIGOROUS PLANNING AND ENDLESS MEETINGS — WITH a few stellar PowerPoint presentations thrown in there—the night of the Delta Pi Presidents’ Gala finally arrives. And I have to admit, my sorority sisters killed it with the decorations. Yara’s centerpieces are downright glorious.
The ballroom at the hotel in Boston is shimmering, lit by chandeliers. I smooth the front of my pale pink dress and adjust the spaghetti straps, looking around for Will, my date for tonight.
My heart flutters when I spot him by the bar, looking impossibly handsome in a sleek black tuxedo. He catches my eye and flashes that easy smile that always makes me weak in the knees. He cleans up nicely, but I’m not surprised. Of course Mr. All-American can pull off a tux.
I can’t help but admire how he stands out among the sea of older, wealthier alumni. He looks confident, poised, like he belongs here, and I suppose he does. He’s a congressman’s son. He fits right in at these sorts of events, with these types of people.
I make my way over to him, weaving through clusters of people who are too busy schmoozing to notice me slip past. When I reach him, he kisses my cheek, his hand gently resting on my lower back.
“Sorry, this drink line is taking forever,” he tells me.
“It’s okay. We’re not in any rush. The guests of honor aren’t even here yet.”
I keep scanning the arched doorway for my mother, who texted a few minutes ago to say she was almost at the hotel. Dad couldn’t come with her tonight because of a work emergency, so she’s flying solo.
On my next scan, my gaze lands on a familiar face.
Ugh. Mitch is here.
Every muscle goes on high alert. I don’t know why I’m surprised to see him. A third of my sorority sisters are dating Delta Tau guys. Their frat is our male counterpart, and we frequently cohost events with them, so there are a bunch of Delta Tau alums in attendance tonight.
When Mitch’s eyes meet mine, he gives me a little smirk. I shift my gaze off his smug face, wondering what I ever saw in the guy. He was so sweet when we first started dating. Attentive. Kind. But his energy could never quite match mine, whether in the bedroom, academics, or general life aspirations. I can’t believe I wasted almost two years on him.
Will follows my gaze. “Is that Mitch?”
“Yup. Just ignore him.”
“Gladly.”
The bartender finally brings Will two glasses of red wine. He hands me one, and I link my arm through his as we wander away from the bar. We find a quiet spot across the room with Faith, Yara, and Blake, and rather than acknowledge the constant looks Mitch tosses my way, I try to focus on the sound of Will’s deep voice as he chats with my friends. The ballroom buzzes with laughter and conversation, the clinking of glasses echoing off the walls.
The next time I check the entrance, I spot my mother walking through the archway.
I touch Will’s arm. “My mom’s here.”
He’s unfazed. “Do you want to go over there alone first, or should I come with you?”
I stare at him.
“What?” he says.
“You’re about to meet my mother, and you’re acting like it’s no big deal.”
Will shrugs. “It’s not a big deal. You told her we’re dating, right?”
Yes, but I’d neglected to mention that I’m also dating his best friend. Mom has been texting all week about how she can’t wait to meet Will, and each time I read an excited message from her, unhappiness washes over me at the reminder that Beckett isn’t here with us. He insisted he didn’t mind, that he wanted me to enjoy the night without worrying about him, but still, it doesn’t quite feel right.
It feels like I’m betraying Beckett by not introducing him to my mother. By acting like he’s not as big a part of my life as Will is.
“C’mon,” Will says, lacing his fingers through mine. “Let’s go say hi.”
I notice Faith giving a nod of approval at his confidence about meeting my mom. She told me the other night that she likes Will a lot. She thinks he’s good for me.
I catch my mother’s eye, and we weave our way toward her. Her face lights up at the sight of us, her smile broadening.
“Charlotte, honey! You look beautiful.” She gives me a hug and a kiss on the forehead, then turns to Will, appraising him. “And I finally get to meet Will! You are a lot more handsome than Charlotte described,” she tells him, and he chuckles.
“Thanks,” he says, looking bashful as he bites his lip through a smile. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Kingston.”
“Please. Call me Anna.” She shakes his hand, then squeezes it with both of hers. “The pleasure is all mine. Char hasn’t told us much about you, so I’m looking forward to getting to know you better. You play hockey, I’ve heard?”
He nods. “I’m a forward for the Briar men’s team. Do you watch hockey?”
Mom laughs. “Nope! But I’m happy to hear all about it. Do you enjoy it?”
There’s genuine affection in her eyes as she chats with Will, asking him about his studies, his interests. He answers her questions with the perfect blend of charm and respect, and I can’t help but feel proud. He really is sweet, and Mom is clearly impressed by him.
As they talk, another rush of guilt floods my body.
Beckett should be here too.
I shouldn’t have to choose between them like this, decide on who gets to be my “public” boyfriend. The job fell into Will’s lap because I’d told Faith I had a movie date with him the first time I went over to their place. And it just sort of stuck.
The evening goes on, the award ceremony for my mother and the other presidential honoree coming and going, and Will stays by my side, his presence comforting and steady. But I can’t shake the feeling that something is missing. Every time I look at him, I think of Beckett and how unfair this all is. I need to talk to Beckett. Just to hear his voice, to make sure he’s okay.
“Hey,” I whisper to Will as a jazz band starts up, signaling the beginning of the dancing portion of the night. “I’m going to step outside for a minute, okay? I want to call Beck and see how he’s doing. I’ll be right back.”
“Sure,” he says. “Take your time.”
I slip out of the ballroom and into a quiet hallway, pulling my phone from my clutch. I dig my heels into the soft carpet and tap my french-tipped fingernails against the cream-colored wall as I wait for Beckett to pick up. He takes his sweet-ass time.
“Hey, baby,” he finally drawls. Just hearing him makes my heart ache with longing.
“Hey. I wanted to check in on you. How are you doing?”
“All good here,” he assures me, and I can hear the smile in his voice. “I told you, don’t worry about me. Are you having a good time?”
“I am,” I admit. “But I wish you were here. We both do.”
“Nah, don’t feel bad, Charlie. I mean it. Enjoy the night.”
“I can’t help it—I do feel bad. But I promise I’ll make it up to you later.”
“Oh? And how do you plan on doing that?” His voice drops to a low, teasing tone.
“Well… I’m thinking it’ll involve your dick and my mouth and a lot of moaning.”
His laughter tickles my ear. “I like the sound of that. Although I think your pussy might need to make an appearance too.”
The pussy in question clenches with desire. “That could be arranged.”
“Are you wet right now?”
“As of two seconds ago, soaked. I called to cheer you up, and instead you just turned me on. Thanks a lot, Beckett.”
“I won’t apologize for turning you on. Making you horny is my favorite hobby.”
I catch my lip between my teeth to tamp down a groan. “I can’t wait to fuck you later.”
Before he can respond, I hear a scoff behind me.
“Seriously, Charlotte? Wow .”
Spinning around, I find Mitch standing at the entry of the hallway, disgust twisting his features.
I freeze, my heart dropping to my stomach. “I have to go,” I whisper into the phone. “Call you when we’re leaving.”
“Charlie—” Beckett starts.
I end the call and take a breath. I’m sick to my stomach as I walk toward my ex-boyfriend.
“You’re still the same slut you’ve always been, huh?” Mitch mocks.
I hope he can’t see how badly my knees are wobbling. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I say coolly.
That gets me a loud bark of laughter. “You just told some other guy you can’t wait to fuck him later.”
“You must have misheard me.”
“I didn’t mishear shit,” he snarls. “You called him Beckett. Isn’t that the dumb jock from class last semester?”
I clench my teeth.
“You’re unreal. Sneaking off to talk to another guy while you’re here with someone else?” His voice rises. “I knew you were a cock-addicted, come-guzzling whore, but this is a new low, even for you.”
My blood runs cold. I glance toward the lobby area, praying no one else overheard. But then I see movement out of the corner of my eye. My mother steps into the hallway, her expression a mixture of confusion and concern.
“Charlotte. There you are!” she calls. “I was looking for you.” Her eyes narrow when she recognizes who I’m speaking to. “Mitch. I didn’t realize you were here tonight.”
“Anna,” he says politely.
“Mrs. Kingston,” she corrects. Mic drop, Mom . Her gaze shifts between us. “What’s going on here?”
“Nothing,” I say quickly. “We were just catching up.”
“Catching up?” Mitch scoffs. “Is that what you call it now?”
My mother frowns. “Honey, what’s going on?”
“It’s nothing, I swear,” I lie.
She doesn’t look convinced, but there’s no way I’m repeating a single word Mitch just uttered. I shoot him a glare, silently begging him to drop it, and thankfully, he doesn’t say anything else.
“Let’s go back inside and find Will,” I tell her.
She gives a slow nod. “All right.”
We leave my ex in our wake and cross the lobby toward the ballroom doors, but as we’re about to pass the archway, she stops and touches my arm.
“Char,” she says. The worry has faded from her expression, and her lips now twitch with wry amusement. “I’m only saying this because I’m secure in the belief that you and Mitch will never be getting back together, but…your father and I hated that boy.”
A laugh pops out of my mouth. “He’s the worst, right?”
“The absolute worst.”
“I wish you’d told me this when we were dating.”
“You wouldn’t have listened.”
“You’re probably right.”
I’m still giggling as we rejoin the festivities, but the humor dies when I remember what Mom had interrupted.
Mitch heard me talking to a guy who isn’t Will, my public boyfriend.
He heard me, damn it.