20. Charlotte We Ride at Dusk
Charlotte We Ride at Dusk
One of the things that made my boss so successful in this small town was that, even though he had made millions of dollars, Gabe Montoya had that I’m one of the people, I’m just like you quality about him.
Earlier this morning he had sat in my office, chewing the Bic pen cap that seemed to be perpetually in his mouth, and said, “I remember what it was like when I wasn’t the boss. It was so hard to get off work to do things like get your insurance. And that’s why I really like these later hours once a week. So much of our business comes from that.”
“I love it,” I said. “It’s a great idea.” Secretly, I was horrified that I would have to spend yet more time away from Iris. Between her sports and school and social schedule, and now my work, I felt like I barely saw her. It was heartbreaking. But, on this particular Friday night, Iris was spending the night with Gabe’s daughter Chloe, so she wasn’t home anyway. And I was so grateful to have steady work, a paycheck, and a boss who was feeding me clients, that I would never have thought of complaining. I was trying to be very zen, but I did have to take a moment to absolutely panic. The clock was ticking, and I was getting increasingly nervous about Bill’s court date. The discovery still hadn’t come.
“I’m sorry I can’t be here with you tonight,” Gabe had said. “But Agnes will be here.”
I wanted to roll my eyes. Yeah. Agnes was such a huge help. I might rather be alone.
“That said,” Gabe added, “you don’t need me. Already.” He leaned back, studying me like he was amused. But Gabe had this sense of perpetual amusement about him. In spite of myself, I really, really liked him. He had a good heart, and he was successful because his primary goal was taking the very best care of his clients.
“Charlotte, honest to God, you’re the best damn employee I’ve ever had. I don’t deserve you.”
“Thanks, Gabe. This opportunity means the world to me. You took a chance on me when no one else would, and I can’t ever repay you for that.” Gabe was my savior. Well, no, if anyone was my savior, it was Alice. But Gabe was at least my patron saint.
He had tapped his hand on my desk. “Oh, you’re repaying me right now.”
Gabe got to his feet, and I called, “Have fun tonight! Take care of my daughter!”
“Always,” he said as he left.
I had formerly imagined this new world I was inhabiting to require taking potential clients to lunch, visiting their places of business. And, sure, I did do some of that. But I mostly sat right here in my office and waited for people to walk in the door. I’d ask them an extensive number of questions, plug some data into my software, and find out what carrier could offer the best rate and value combination. It really wasn’t selling at all. It was just obvious. They had a need; I could fill it. Life insurance and disability were a little more complicated than property and casualty—that was your general car, home, and boat insurance, umbrella policies, etc.—because they required physicals and health histories and had a lot more factors. You’re a dentist? Your disability is essentially a whole different product than if you’re a teacher. The companies are different, the rules are different.
Anyway, I was a quick learner and I found I really enjoyed protecting people for when the worst happened. And I knew what it was like when the worst happened. If only someone had walked in and handed me a check when it had happened to me, that would have been amazing.
I heard the door chime, and Agnes say, “Can I help you?” in the dullest tone imaginable. I didn’t want to get Agnes fired or anything, but for goodness’ sake. This woman was the face of our company?
A voice I recognized said, “Yeah, I’m here to take out an errors and omissions policy.”
“Mr. Montoya’s out,” Agnes said. “But the new girl is in the back.”
I rolled my eyes. Really, Agnes? The new girl? Honestly. I was number one in my MBA program. I could maybe handle selling an errors and omissions policy.
“She any good?” Grace asked. I had to smile.
Agnes lowered her voice and said, “They say she’s some kinda mathematical genius.” She said it like math-uh-mat-ee-cal.
“So, a nerd, then?” Grace whispered back.
I didn’t hate that Agnes thought I was a mathematical genius. It almost made up for her previous slights.
“Go on back and see for yourself,” Agnes said.
I sat up a little straighter and tried to look extremely busy on my laptop.
“Excuse me,” Grace said, tapping on my open door lightly. I didn’t expect to see Alice and Julie too. They had been quiet little church mice. And they were holding what appeared to be a garment bag.
“Hello, working girl!” Julie sang. “We’re here to visit!”
“Kind of here to visit,” Grace said. “I actually do need that errors and omissions policy too.”
That made sense. Errors and omissions covered public figures—authors, influencers, etc.—if they got sued for what they posted. It was a little tricky, honestly. I opened a folder on my computer and dragged a file into a new email.
“I just sent you an application,” I said. “We can go through it at home because it’s complicated.”
Julie sat down in one of the drab gray chairs across from my desk, and I eyed Alice. “I’m afraid to even ask what’s in the bag.”
“Afraid?” she asked so sweetly that I was even more afraid. “Why would you be afraid of a little garment bag?”
I motioned with my hand for her to unzip it. When she did, I gasped. Inside was a low-cut yellow gown, cinched at the waist with a full skirt, trimmed in the most delicate lace.
“And!” Grace said, producing a smaller bag I hadn’t even noticed, “the pièce de résistance.” She pulled out a fascinator with the most fabulous yellow feathers.
I put my hand to my heart. Belle Epoque at the Beach was, without a doubt, the most fun event of the year in Juniper Shores. Even still, I said, “I see what you’re trying to do, but it’s a no.” I wouldn’t, couldn’t go to my favorite event of the year if I wasn’t on the arm of the man who loved me.
“A no!” Julie protested. “I had to beg, borrow, and steal to get our dresses from the theater company.”
I rolled my eyes at her. “And I know you hated every minute.” My voice dripped with sarcasm. Julie thrived on manipulating people into getting exactly what she wanted. I envied that in a way. I could use a little more of that these days.
“Charlotte, if you will remember,” Grace said authoritatively, “Bill’s company is the headline sponsor of the event. You have a ton of tickets. We should use them.”
I did recall him mentioning that.
“And Merit and Iris are volunteering with their friends,” Alice said.
I looked at them skeptically and sighed. “Look, I get it. It’s a fun party. But you can’t seriously think that I would go out in public when it has only been two weeks since my husband’s total and complete humiliation.”
Julie reached into her purse and handed me a single piece of copy paper. It took me a few seconds to realize that it was a miniaturized version of our local newspaper’s front page. “This is running tomorrow.”
The headline read: “BILL SITTERLY MAINTAINS INNOCENCE—AND IS MOMENTS AWAY FROM PROVING IT.”
I gasped. The print was too small for me to read, but, well, probably no one else would read it all either. That headline was enough. “Do you think you stretched the truth a little there, Jules?”
She shook her head. “Nope. When I interviewed Bill and Oliver, they seemed very confident. I only used information from their quotes.”
I rubbed my temples. “So you’re telling me that this will hit everyone’s front walks and inboxes tomorrow morning, and I’m supposed to go prance around tomorrow night?”
“Yes,” Julie said. “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”
“Do you know what I’ve learned from my debacles?” Alice asked. She was a good voice of reason, because who had weathered more scandal than Alice?
“What?” I asked warily.
“People believe that guilty people hide. Innocent people carry on. We are innocent people. I’m tired of hiding away, of not having fun, because of what people will say. They think I killed three husbands. If I can deal with the chatter behind my back, you can too.”
Grace nodded. “I haven’t been to a single big town function since Troy left. And guess what? It isn’t my fault he abandoned his family. I’m not hiding out anymore.”
I looked at Julie. She shrugged. “Please. I wouldn’t hide out even if I was guilty.”
We all laughed.
“Look, Char,” Julie said. “This is part of the plan. We put out the article, we go to the town’s biggest function and run our mouths, and surely Juniper Shores Socialite will follow suit. We aren’t guilty. We aren’t criminals. We aren’t going to hide.”
She said it with so much passion that pride swelled in my chest. It was like when a talented singer hit the perfect high notes in “The Star-Spangled Banner” before a baseball game and you had peanuts and beer and fresh air and just felt so damn lucky to be an American. “God, you give a good pep talk,” I said.
“Is that a yes?” Alice asked.
“That’s a hell yes,” I said.
Alice slumped down in the other customer chair.
“What’s the matter with you?” I asked, incredulous. “I thought this is what you wanted!”
“It is,” she said wearily. “But now if you’re going to go face the public, I have to too.”
“Oh!” I said. “Bring Elliott!”
“That will really help,” she said sarcastically.
“Why cause a teeny fire when you can burn down the whole damn town?” Julie asked. “Tomorrow night, the mommune comes out in full force.”
“We ride at dusk!” Grace said.
I noticed Agnes standing at the door. “I hate to break up the sorority mixer,” she said, “but some of us are ready to go home.”
“Yes!” I said. “Sorry, Agnes. We’re going.” She rolled her eyes and walked away, her entire person an expression of her pure exasperation with me.
“She really dazzles, doesn’t she?” Grace asked.
I laughed and held out my hand to Alice. “If I’m doing this, you’d better give me that dress.”
“Your armor!” Alice said.
“Nope,” I said, reaching my arms out to them. “That’s all of you.”
And as we linked arms and made our way down the hall, I couldn’t help but feel like they were. For the first time since Bill’s arrest, I didn’t feel so alone. And there it was, that proud tightness in my chest again. We were survivors. And tomorrow, there was no question about it: we’d have the whole town talking.