Chapter 10
Chapter ten
Charlie
"—and then Trisha had the audacity to say I needed to redo the entire presentation!" Emily waves her fork for emphasis, almost sending a piece of broccoli flying across the table.
Dad nods, his salt-and-pepper hair looking more salt than pepper these days. He's wearing his favorite navy cardigan with the leather elbow patches. His "professor uniform" even though he's been retired for two years. Mom leans forward, completely engrossed in Emily's never ending workplace drama.
I should be listening. I should care about my little sister’s terrible co-worker and the office politics at her job. But my mind flutters elsewhere.
"Charlotte?" Mom's voice cuts through my thoughts. "Are you with us, honey?"
"Yeah, sorry," I mutter. "Just tired from work."
I push the potatoes around my plate, wondering how much longer until I can escape this Wednesday family dinner ritual.
Avoiding Sebastian and only talking to him when absolutely necessary is exhausting.
It's like trying not to notice a splinter under your skin.
The more you try to ignore it, the more it demands your attention.
Every time he walks by my office, I find myself holding my breath.
Every email with his name in my inbox makes my stomach flip.
I've started taking the stairs to avoid potential elevator encounters.
This weird dance of professional distance is draining me more than facing him would, but I'm too stubborn to admit it. Pride is an expensive currency.
"Oh I'm sorry sweetheart, but did you see the email I forwarded you with your flight details?" Mom places another helping of pot roast potatoes on my plate despite me telling her earlier that I wasn't hungry. "Dad and I will be flying first class, and we've got you and Emily in coach."
I'm halfway through chewing a bite of my pot roast, trying to remember what email she's talking about.
My parents' dining room hasn't changed since I was in high school with the same mahogany table with the tiny scratch from when I tried to carve my initials when I was eight, same landscape paintings Mom picked up at a local art fair, same family photos chronicling Emily's and my awkward phases.
Everything is still the same, well except for the explosion of Christmas that's taken over every surface.
The dining room table runner is festooned with holly and pinecones, twinkling lights frame the windows, and a miniature Christmas village occupies the sideboard.
Mom's infamous nutcracker collection stands at attention on every available surface, their painted faces watching us eat with wooden judgment.
"What email?" I ask.
Mom gives me that look, the one that says she's disappointed but not surprised. "For the Colorado trip, honey. I sent it on Monday."
Something cold and unpleasant slides down my spine. The Colorado trip. Our annual family vacation to Aspen. The one we've been taking my entire life.
The one where the Harpers—as in Ethan Harper, as in my ex who is now engaged to someone else—always join us because they've been my parents' best friends since before Emily and I were born.
Fuck.
"Earth to Charlie," Emily says, waving her fork. "You look like you just saw a ghost."
"The trip is... that's coming up?" I try to sound casual and fail spectacularly.
"Next week," Dad says, cutting his meat. "The week before Christmas, same as always, dear."
My stomach twists. Next week. I'm supposed to spend a week in our house with my ex and his shiny new fiancée right next-door next week. The same ex whose Instagram engagement photos sent me into a spiral that ended with me bringing home a stranger who turned out to be my new coworker.
Double fuck.
"Charlotte?" Mom prompts. "Did you request your time off work?"
I don't need to request time off work because my company has this new age policy in place where we get the entire week before, during and after Christmas off to spend time with our families. Which is amazing but my family doesn't need to know that.
"I, um..." I put my fork down, deciding to rip off the band-aid. "I don't think I can make it this year."
The table goes silent. Dad puts down his knife and fork. Mom's smile freezes. Emily chokes on her wine.
"What do you mean, you can't make it?" Mom asks, her voice rising slightly. "It's our family tradition."
"I know, but work is really busy right now, and—"
"Absolutely not," Dad says, not unkindly.
"Richard." Mom scolds him for raising his voice at the dinner table, but there's no heat in it.
"Sorry, but I mean it." Dad leans forward, fixing me with his no-nonsense gaze. "You're not skipping because of work. You're skipping because of Ethan."
I open my mouth to protest but can't find the words. He's right, of course.
"We didn't raise quitters in this house," Dad continues. "I understand you two had a messy breakup—"
"Messy?" I finally find my voice. "He obliterated my confidence, dad.” I slam my hand on the table making both my mom and Emily jump. “He told me he 'needed space,' and then proposed to a coworker not even a year later. That's not messy, that's a character assassination."
"All the more reason not to give him the satisfaction of thinking he chased you away from your own family vacation," Dad counters.
"Your father's right," Mom adds. "The Harpers have been joining us on this trip for almost thirty years. We're not uninviting them just because Ethan made poor choices."
"And he's probably bringing Olivia," Emily adds non-helpfully, examining her wine glass with sudden fascination.
I turn to her, betrayed. "You think?"
She shrugs, still not meeting my eyes. "I was going to talk to you about it, but then you had that whole... work situation."
By "work situation," she means the Sebastian debacle.
"Great. So I get to spend a week watching my ex and his fiancée play happy couple in a wintery paradise while I'm the sad, single, lonely ex lurking in the corner." I stab my fork into my pot roast. "Sounds super relaxing."
"Charlotte Ann Whitaker." And there’s my full name. "You are a beautiful, successful woman with plenty to be proud of. I won't have you hiding away because Ethan is bringing his new... person."
"Fiancée, Mom. The word you're looking for is fiancée."
"Yes, well." She sniffs and pats the corner of her mouth with her napkin. "The point stands. You're coming. End of discussion."
I look to Em for support, but she's now suddenly shifted her focus on a piece of cooked carrot. Dad is giving me that immovable look that means his mind is made up. Twenty-nine years old, and I'm still powerless against the parental united front.
"You know what?" Emily says suddenly, her voice bright. "Charlie will definitely be there. In fact, she'll be bringing someone too."
I nearly choke on my wine. "I will?"
"Umm duh." Her eyes are wide and innocent in a way that fills me with dread. "She didn’t want me to say anything but Charlie's been seeing someone. It's pretty serious."
Both of my parents' faces light up like Christmas came early.
"What? Really?" Mom claps her hands together. "Oh, sweetheart, why didn't you tell us?"
"Because it's not—" I start, but Emily kicks me under the table.
Hard.
Ouch. Fuck that hurt.
"They've been keeping it quiet," she continues smoothly. "You know how private Charlie can be about her life."
Dad looks at me skeptically. "Is this true, Charlotte?"
Emily's eyes widen slightly and bore into mine, silently communicating some message I can't quite decipher. But I do know that if I contradict her now, I'll be dooming myself to a vacation full of pity glances while Ethan parades around with his perfect Olivia.
"Yes," I hear myself say slowly. "It's... still new. But it's going well."
Mom practically vibrates with excitement. "What's his name? What does he do? How did you two meet?"
"His name is..." My mind races. I can't just make up a boyfriend. I'd need to produce an actual human man by next week. Who could I possibly...
Oh no.
No.
No.
No.
Emily can't possibly be thinking—
"His name is Sebastian," she blurts, and the look she gives me confirms my worst suspicions. "He works with Charlie. Very successful, very handsome."
"I knew it!" Mom exclaims. "I knew work was going better than you were letting on! Oh, Richard, didn't I say she seemed different lately?" Mom places her hand on dads flashing the biggest smile I think I've ever seen on her.
Dad's looking at me with that keen gaze that always made it impossible to lie growing up. "Sebastian, huh? And this is serious enough that you'd bring him to Colorado?"
"Well, I—"
"She was just telling me how well they get along," Emily interrupts. "They have this amazing chemistry, don't you, Charlie?"
I'm going to murder my sister. Slowly and painfully.
Maybe I'll smother her with Mom's decorative Christmas pillows. Or I could push her off a ski lift when we get to the slopes. No you know what, I'll just slip laxatives into her hot chocolate every morning of the trip.
She catches my death glare and has the audacity to wink.
"We do work well together," I say carefully.
"And he's just dying to meet the family," Emily adds. "Isn't that right?"
"I wouldn't say dying..."
"Well, this is wonderful news!" Mom looks like she might burst with joy. "Your father and I are so happy to meet this young man. Oh, Sebastian. Such a strong name."
"Everyone calls him Bash," Emily supplies helpfully.
Dad raises an eyebrow. "Bash? What kind of name is that?"
"A nickname," I mutter, mentally calculating how many years I'd get for strangling her at the dinner table. I could plead temporary insanity. Crime of passion.
"He was a professional snowboarder," Emily continues, clearly enjoying herself. "Before he got into marketing."
My parents exchange impressed looks.
Great.
"I can't wait to meet him," Mom says. "I'll make sure the room assignments work out since Charlotte is bringing someone now.
Can't have you two sleeping in The Glacier Room on bunk beds now, can we?
" She smiles back at dad, then snaps her head to look back at me.
"Oh! Maybe we can put you two in The Evergreen Room?
It has that lovely view of the mountains. "
"Mom, I don't think—"
"That sounds perfect," Emily cuts in. "They'll love the privacy."
Now it's my turn to kick her under the table, hard enough that she winces.
"So it's settled then," Dad says, with the finality of a judge passing a sentence. "We're all going to Colorado—including Charlotte and her new boyfriend."
"Boyfriend might be a strong word," I try.
"Whatever you want to call it, dear," Mom pats my hand. "We're just happy you're moving forward. And I must say, I'm relieved you won't be facing Ethan alone."
As they launch into discussing travel logistics, I turn to glare at Emily, who looks thoroughly pleased with herself.
"What the fuck?" I hiss under my breath.
"You're welcome," she whispers back.
"For what? Forcing me into a fake relationship with a man who I'm actively trying to avoid?"
She shrugs. "It's either that or go alone and let Ethan think he won."
"He did win." I whisper shout.
"No, he didn’t." She takes a sip of wine. "Besides, you said Bash has been trying to apologize. This is the perfect opportunity to let him grovel properly."
"By pretending to be my boyfriend for a week in front of mom and dad and The Harpers?"
"Exactly! If he's really sorry, he'll do it."
"And if he's not?"
She grins. "Then you know he's an irredeemable asshole and you can stop obsessing over him leaving."
I open my mouth to argue, then close it. As insane as her plan is, there's a twisted logic to it. If Sebastian refuses, I'll know once and for all that he's not worth another thought. And if he agrees... well, at least I won't have to go on this trip alone.
"So?" Emily leans in and whispers. "You in?"
"This is the worst idea you've ever had," I tell her. "And that includes the time you convinced me to sneak into the neighbors' pool at midnight and we both got poison ivy."
"But you're going to do it."
I sigh, already mentally composing the most awkward conversation of my professional life. "I don't even know if he'll agree."
"Oh, he'll agree." She takes another sip of wine, looking smug. "I saw the way he was looking at you while y’all were on the dance floor. Trust me, he's not done with you yet."
"Charlotte," Mom calls from across the table. "Do you think Sebastian would prefer to travel with us and fly or will he be driving?"
I close my eyes briefly, wondering how my life spiraled into this farce so quickly. "I'll have to ask him, Mom."
Emily smothers a laugh behind her hand, and I shoot her my most lethal glare.
"You owe me," I mouth silently.
"Worth it," she mouths back.
As Mom launches into a detailed description of the family activities she has planned, all I can think about is how exactly I'm going to approach Sebastian, who I've been icily professional with all week, and ask him to pretend to be my serious boyfriend on a family vacation... just to spite my ex.
God, I need another glass of wine.