Chapter 9
CHARLOTTE
When I walked into the dining room for dinner, I froze. Usually, I ate here alone. Sometimes, one or more of my brothers would join me, but our father rarely did. He was almost always out or at the club.
Tonight, however, he was sitting at the table with a glass of wine in his hand, looking unusually expectant. I was used to seeing that look on his face when my brothers were around. Particularly Alex, but I didn’t think I had ever been on the receiving end of it.
“Charlotte,” he said when he noticed me. He smiled and waved me into the same chair I sat in every night. “Good of you to join me, honey.”
“Yeah, of course.” I cleared my throat and gracefully sank into the chair one of the servers pulled out for me at the table.
That was different too. They knew they didn’t need to be around when it was only me. I could pull out my own chair and dish up my own food. But it looked like we were fully staffed tonight.
Someone else came out to pour a glass of wine for me while Edda, the housekeeper who’d been with us since I’d been a baby, brought out our appetizers. She smiled warmly, but there was a resignation in her eyes I didn’t quite know what to do with.
“Here you go, darling,” she said quietly. “It’s my grilled salmon. I even made that sauce you like with it.”
I blinked a few times rapidly, returned her smile, and watched as she hurried out of the room. The salmon with her special sauce was usually reserved for my birthdays or graduations. My brothers weren’t partial to it and Dad didn’t mind it but he was here so rarely that his vote didn’t often count.
Edda knew everything that was going on in our house, though. Between this, Dad waiting for me, and Alex acting so weird recently, I had just enough time to get to full-blown suspicion before Dad came straight out with it.
“We need to talk, Charlotte,” he said, his fingers laced together on the table and his sharp blue gaze intent on mine. “What do you think of Gregory Van Allen?”
A half-nervous, half-surprised giggle came out of me. “Gregory? I don’t know. I’ve only met the guy twice.”
“Yes, but surely you must’ve formed an opinion about him.” Dad kept staring right at me in a way he hadn’t done for a very, very long time. This kind of scrutiny came my way even less often than the expectation. “Come now. Tell me. What do you think of him?”
“Oh, he’s fine, I suppose.” I fidgeted with my napkin under the pretense of draping it over my lap, but my fingers were suddenly trembling and I wasn’t even sure why. “He seems nice enough.”
Dad raised a graying eyebrow at me, those Westwood blue eyes suddenly so piercing that my pulse spiked, a subconscious warning system. “Gregory comes from a good family. He’s independently wealthy and he has a title. I’m no expert in these things, but I’ve been told he’s also rather handsome.”
“You…” I trailed off, blinking hard and wondering if I was dreaming. Maybe I’d taken a nap after that extended, surprisingly good coffee date with Trent and I hadn’t woken up yet. “You’ve heard he’s handsome?”
“Yes,” Dad said gruffly but entirely matter of fact. “I’ve asked around and the general consensus among the women at the country club appears to be that he’s no pain to look at. So, what do you think?”
“Are you feeling okay?” I asked, suddenly nervous. “You seem a little different tonight.”
He let out a heavy sigh, but then his expression softened in a way that made me even more nervous. “God, I wish your mother was here for this.”
A soul-deep ache started in my heart, both at the mention of her and the slight hint in his eyes of just being so completely lost. I paused for a beat, leaning forward and reaching for his hand. “You wish Mom was here for what, Daddy?”
“It’s different with the boys,” he said as if he hadn’t even heard me. Then he brought his gaze directly to mine. “It’s high time you consider getting married, Charlotte.”
Without even having reached his hand to give it a reassuring squeeze, I slumped back in my chair, my eyelids going wild and my entire body suddenly numb. “Excuse me?”
“You’re twenty-five.”
“And Alex is thirty-three,” I said, too stunned to really even think about it. “Nate is thirty-one. The twins are thirty and even Zach and Theo are older than me. Literally everyone in this house is.”
“Yes, but the boys’ biological clocks aren’t ticking.” He sighed. “Gregory is an exceptionally good prospect for you, honey. Surely, you must see that he’s perfect. Perhaps if I had such a good match for one of the boys, but I don’t.”
I stared at him, my mouth slightly open, unable to process what he was saying. Gregory Van Allen was charming, yes, but perfect? He’d been so condescending when he’d found out what I did for a living.
“And he would like to have children,” my dad added as if that was the clincher.
Sadly, he wasn’t completely wrong. Something in my chest shifted when he said it, a hollow opening up that I couldn’t ignore.
Children.
I wanted that. Desperately. I wanted to give them everything my mom had given me and so much more. Everything she hadn’t been able to give before she was gone.
I’d been filling my time with the Big Sister program, volunteering, pouring myself into helping other girls, and I loved it.
Loved it so, so much, but the idea of something entirely my own, something that was mine and mine alone, had always been my heart’s truest desire.
I glanced at my dad, trying to read his expression, and then realized he wasn’t asking me what I wanted.
He was expecting me to consider what he thought I should want.
A knot of longing and guilt twisted inside me.
Do I want this? I asked myself. Do I want someone for me? Someone to share a life with, someone to build something real with, something that isn’t just charity or duty or legacy?
I wanted it. I knew I did. But right now, it felt like the world was trying to hand me something that could be great. Just maybe not for me.
“We’re going to be having a small gathering here at the house next week,” Dad continued, still uncomfortable but at least a bit more at ease now that he’d essentially told me my value would diminish once I got old enough for my eggs to be questionable.
“Gregory will be attending. You should use it as a chance to get to know him better.”
I stabbed my poor salmon, glancing up at him again. “A barbecue?”
“Yes,” he said, reaching across the table and giving my hand a firm squeeze. “You deserve the best, Charlotte. Gregory is what’s best for you. I wouldn’t have brought this up if I didn’t truly believe this is an opportunity we cannot let pass us by.”
I nodded, the motion automatic, but my stomach twisted with unease. I knew how these things worked in my family. It was about alignment, appearances, and practicality, not sparks, laughter, or anything as trivial as real connection.
“I’ll consider it,” I said softly, letting my words sound more like a promise than a decision.
Dad’s lips spread into a relieved smile. “Wonderful.”
He picked up his wine, and not five minutes later, he was gone again, hurrying off to take some call in private. I ate alone, not even really able to enjoy Edda’s treat since it might as well have been cardboard.
As soon as I’d forced down the last bite, I raced upstairs to my bedroom before any of my brothers could find out what Dad had talked to me about.
Sitting on the edge of my bed, I brushed my hair and looked out at the quiet night, the city lights twinkling far in the distance, and tried to imagine a future with Gregory. I really did.
God, I’d always known it was a possibility that my marriage would be arranged as well. I’d never given it too much thought, because I’d thought for sure that he’d start with Alex and work his way down from there.
That would’ve given me at least a year or two notice before it would’ve been my turn, but I supposed Gregory Van Allen’s appearance had made Dad decide to start at the bottom. At the youngest.
As much as he wasn’t wrong about Gregory, he truly was charming, and gorgeous, and that accent? It was so freaking hot, but I still couldn’t picture myself building a life with the guy. Instead, my thoughts kept drifting back to this morning.
To Trent.
It hadn’t been a real date, not in the traditional sense, anyway. There had been no dinner, no planned evening, no candlelight, and no awkward small talk forced by societal expectation.
Just coffee, walking, and talking. Laughing. Sharing. For the first time in forever, I’d spoken to someone and felt that spark, the little flicker that reminded me I was more than a Westwood heir or a volunteer on a schedule.
It was the last thing I would have expected to feel with him, but Trent was the first person who was part of this world—my family’s world—who had listened to me talk about my passions, and actually understood.
He hadn’t looked bored or acted like I was adorable.
He’d been genuinely interested. He’d asked questions and told me more about his sister’s foundation.
As I closed my eyes, I let the memory wash over me. His easy grin, the way he listened without interrupting, and the way he hadn’t assumed he knew everything about me just because of my last name.
I’d been overlooked by my family all my life, yet somehow, he had made me feel seen. And I hadn’t been able stop thinking about him. It was confusing as hell. Just six months ago, he’d utterly humiliated me, but it wasn’t only that.
Considering his relationship with my brother and my cousin, it was also completely forbidden that I think about him in these terms. Taboo. Bro-code nonsense.
Yet, it was somehow entirely intoxicating.
I sighed and flopped down on my mattress, staring at the ceiling.
I’d opened up to Trent. Maybe I could open up to Gregory as well.
Really open up instead of just nodding politely or smiling while he belittled my work.
Maybe I could tell him about my mom, about her warmth, her laughter, and the things she’d taught me that I felt I needed to convey to other girls who’d lost their moms too.
Maybe if I told him about my own interests, my passions, my hopes, and my dreams, he’d realize I wasn’t just adorable. Maybe that hadn’t even been the real him. Maybe he’d just been nervous or distracted, or maybe I’d misjudged him.
My thoughts drifted to my parents then. Their marriage had been arranged and they’d been deeply, madly in love.
It was the same with Harlan and CC. My cousins, Sterling, Jameson, Callum, and Harrison had all recently navigated this same path, and somehow, despite everything, they were nauseatingly, sickeningly happy.
So why not me?
I could have that too. All I had to do was trust my dad’s judgment and give Gregory a chance. After the barbecue, perhaps I’ll realize that Daddy is right after all, and that Gregory absolutely is the one for me.