Chapter 16 #3
"Well, I know it might be a bit awkward. Ethan's been a part of our lives for a long time—his parents and Charlotte's mother and I go way back." He clears his throat, eyes darting to the kitchen briefly. "Even though things didn't work out between them, he's still like family to us."
I nod, something cold and unpleasant settling in my stomach at the thought of Charlie's ex being so permanently woven into the tapestry of her life.
"I just want to make sure you're comfortable with the arrangement," he continues.
"The annual trip means a lot to both families, and, well.
.." He glances toward the kitchen, where Charlie's laughter rings out at something Emily said.
"I have to say, I'm glad to see her with someone who looks at her the way I've seen you do. "
The comment hits me like a blindside tackle. My carefully crafted act suddenly feels paper-thin—like he's seen right through to something I've barely acknowledged to myself.
"I—thank you, sir," I manage. "Charlie's told me about her history with Ethan, and I'm completely comfortable with the situation." I meet his gaze directly. "From what I understand, they've both moved on. I know I have nothing to worry about."
He studies me for a moment, then smiles. "Good man.” He pats my shoulder a couple of times. “Just wanted to check. Charlie's happiness means everything to her mother and me."
"Me too," I say, and it's not even part of the act.
The doorbell chimes then, an elegant melodic sound.
"Ah, that'll be the Harpers," he says, patting me on the shoulder before heading toward the entryway.
I look over at Charlie, who's frozen in place, a stack of plates in her hands. Our eyes lock across the room, and I can see the flash of panic in hers.
Without hesitating, I cross the room to her side, taking the plates and setting them on the counter. "Hey," I murmur, lowering my head to meet her eye to eye. "Remember, I've got you."
She nods, straightening her shoulders. "Right. Thanks."
I place my hand at the small of her back as voices fill the entryway—greetings, laughter, the rustle of coats being removed. Charlie leans into my touch almost imperceptibly, and I press a kiss to her temple, breathing in the clean scent of her hair.
"Shall we?" I ask, offering my arm.
She takes it, her fingers curling around my bicep. "Let's just get this over with."
We turn just as the Harpers enter the great room—a silver-haired couple in their sixties, followed by a man my age and a willowy blonde woman.
Ethan Harper is precisely what I expected: medium height, medium build, with the kind of bland good looks that would make him perfect for an insurance commercial.
His hair is carefully styled, and his smile seems rehearsed.
He's wearing a navy cashmere sweater over a collared shirt, looking every inch the successful finance guy Charlie described.
The blonde is objectively beautiful in that polished, high-maintenance way that requires serious effort. Her makeup is flawless, her honey-blonde hair falling in perfect waves. She's dressed in a cream-colored sweater dress and knee-high boots, with a massive diamond sparkling on her left hand.
"Charlie!" Mrs. Harper exclaims, rushing forward to embrace her. "Look at you, darling! Absolutely glowing!"
Charlie returns the hug, her posture stiff. "Hi, Mrs. Harper. It's good to see you."
Mr. Harper follows with his own hug, then steps back to make introductions. "And this must be the new man in Charlotte's life we've heard about."
I extend my hand, flashing my most charming smile. "Sebastian Montgomery. It's a pleasure to meet you all."
"Barbara and Douglas Harper," Mrs. Harper says warmly, shaking my hand. "And this is our son Ethan, and his fiancée, Olivia."
Ethan steps forward, his smile not quite reaching his eyes as he shakes my hand. His grip is slightly too firm—a cheap power move that almost makes me laugh.
"Sebastian," he says, sizing me up. "Great to meet you. Charlie's been... mysterious about you."
"Has she?" I keep my tone light. "I'm an open book. Ask me anything."
Olivia offers a practiced smile. "So how did you two meet? Was it at work? E said that Charlie was always married to her job."
I feel Charlie tense beside me, but before she can respond, I slide my arm around her waist, pulling her closer.
"We are colleagues, yes," I confirm, "but our connection was instant. Hard to focus on marketing strategies when the most captivating woman I've ever seen is sitting across the conference table."
Charlie looks up at me, and for a moment, the surprise in her eyes is real. I continue, unable to stop myself.
"I spent three meetings straight just trying to work up the courage to ask her out. When I finally did, she turned me down." I grin, looking down at her with genuine affection. "Twice, actually."
This gets a laugh from the group, and Charlie's lips curve into a smile. "He was persistent," she adds, playing along. "Eventually, I figured anyone willing to face rejection that many times deserved at least one dinner."
"And the rest is history," I finish, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.
Ethan's expression tightens almost imperceptibly. "Well, that's... sweet."
Margaret claps her hands together. "Why don't we all move to the dining room? The food is getting cold, and we have so much catching up to do!"
As everyone moves toward the dining area, I hold Charlie back leaning down to whisper, "You okay?"
She nods slightly, then surprises me by turning her face up to mine. "Thank you," she whispers back, and then—in a move I wasn't expecting—she stretches up and brushes her lips against mine in a soft, brief kiss.
When she pulls back, there's a flicker of something in her eyes I can't quite read. "For the audience," she adds quietly.
"Right," I say, though I'm not sure anyone was even looking our way. "For the audience."
We follow the others into the dining room, where a long wooden table is being set with steaming dishes of sushi, sashimi, and other Japanese delicacies.
I pause as everyone settles around the table, placing a gentle hand on Charlie's elbow. "Wait—your shellfish allergy. Is this safe?" I keep my voice low, genuine concern overriding the performance we're putting on.
Charlie looks up at me, surprise flickering across her features. Her eyes soften, and I can see she hadn't expected me to remember that detail from our dinner planning session.
"It's okay," she whispers back, a small smile playing at her lips. "Mom always orders specific dishes for me—she has them make separate rolls without any shellfish. The chef knows our family well."
I nod, still hesitating. "You're sure? I just—" I run my hand through my hair, suddenly aware of how real my worry is. "I'd rather not spend our first night in Aspen in the ER."
Her smile widens, and she places her hand over mine. "I promise. Mom's been handling this since I was eight and had my first reaction." She squeezes my fingers lightly. "But... thank you for remembering."
There's warmth in her voice that wasn't there before, a crack in her carefully maintained wall. I guide her to our seats, hyper-aware of Ethan watching our exchange from across the table, his eyes narrowing slightly.
The table configuration forces us to sit across from Ethan and Olivia, giving me a front-row seat to their subtle dynamic. Charlie's shoulders remain tense, despite my occasional reassuring touch to her lower back.
"So, Sebastian," Ethan leans forward with a practiced casual air. "I hear you were in sports before marketing? Amateur stuff?"
I catch Emily's eye roll from down the table as I smile pleasantly. "Professional, actually. Snowboarding—X Games, Olympics, the works."
"Olympics?" Olivia's stenciled on eyebrows rise, her interest suddenly piqued. "That's impressive."
"Sebastian was ranked second in the world before his injury," Charlie states matter-of-factly, her hand finding my thigh under the table. "He has three X Games gold medals."
The pride in her voice catches me off guard—it sounds genuine, not performed.
Ethan's smile tightens. "Shame about the injury, then. Must have been tough going from that to... office work."
"Sports marketing is hardly 'office work,' Ethan," Charlie interjects before I can respond. "Sebastian consults with major athletes and brands worldwide. He just helped Titan land the Adrenaline Athletics account."
I squeeze her hand gently, touched by her defense.
"What Ethan means," Olivia jumps in, her voice syrupy sweet, "is that it must be such a difficult transition. I mean, all that adrenaline and fame to... what did you call it, E? A desk job?"
I feel Charlie tense beside me, but I laugh easily.
"Actually, I've found that the business world has its own kind of rush.
Different playing field, same competitive spirit.
" I turn to Charlie with a genuine smile.
"Plus, I'd never have met Charlie otherwise, so I'd say things worked out perfectly. "
"How fortuitous," Ethan mutters, pushing a salmon roll around his plate.
The moment stretches thin as Ethan's gaze locks with mine across the table. There's a challenge there, masked by his practiced smile—a territorial marking that's six months outdated but still stubbornly present.
Richard clears his throat, breaking the tension between Ethan and I.
And I’m instantly reminded of what he had said earlier.
About how I look at Charlie and I bring my attention back to her.
She’s pushing her sashimi around on her plate.
If her father can see through me so easily, how long before Charlie realizes the same—that this relationship was never fake for me.