CHAPTER THIRTEEN
(Matthew)
“Good morning, princess,” I said as Charlotte entered the room. She rubbed the side of her head like she had a hangover, but we hadn’t done any drinking before she’d fallen asleep. “I didn’t realize that when you said ‘catnap,’ you meant a very old cat. Or a very dead one.”
She stuck her tongue out at me and squinted at the windows. “What time is it?”
“Eight-thirty.” I grinned. “You slept for thirteen hours. I wonder what tired you out.”
“Sorry, Mr. Ego, but it was the travel.” She came to sit across the corner of the breakfast table from me, like she had back at Ascend Red. And when I thought about it, we always slept on the same sides of the bed.
We had “our” sides.
She glanced down at the plate laid out for her. “Do you have, like, servants?”
“I have hired staff. You will almost never see them. And I think it goes without saying, they’re not the same kind of staff I have at Ascend Red.” I reached for the carafe of orange juice. “They are, however, as discreet. And part time. Nobody’s here after seven.”
“Ah.” She paused, finally noticing the non-breakfast item on the table. “And did your ‘discreet’ staff lay this out?”
“No. I did.” I held out my hand and took the wearable vibrator from her. “Let me help you put it on.”
“Starting early,” she grumbled, but stood.
“You’re naked under that robe, yes?” Not that robe. My robe. She was already wearing my clothes.
She pulled one lapel aside to expose a perfect breast.
“Great.” I held up the vibrator with the straps stretched between my fingers. “Let’s put this on.”
I helped her slip one foot in, then the other. She shimmied it over her hips, bringing the pretty pink butterfly vibe against her vulva. I adjusted the straps to keep it tight, then pushed a finger between her body and the toy, parting her labia around it.
“Perfect.” I leaned back to admire my work, then patted her ass and pulled her forward for a kiss before instructing her, “Sit. Have something to eat.”
She eyed me suspiciously but sat and started filling her plate. “You know, you could ask me what I like for breakfast. I don’t need the whole buffet.”
I reached for the vibrator’s remote and gave her a buzz. She jumped.
“Noted. You can let the cook know.” I hadn’t had a chance to ask her before she fell snoringly unconscious. And I hadn’t paid attention while we were at Ascend Red. There had been too many other things on my mind.
Now, I would focus all my attention on those little things I needed to know to prove that I gave a damn about her beyond sex.
Well, not all of my attention. I would need to spend some time on sex.
My phone vibrated, and I almost cursed out loud. But I was home now, back in my normal life. I couldn’t live like Charlotte and I were still at Ascend Red. My sister’s name and photo came up on the screen.
“Fuck.” I shook my head. “I have to take this. You stay right here. Have something to eat. But don’t get up.”
I hit the button on the vibrator’s remote and walked away, grinning at Charlotte’s outraged gasp as I slid my thumb across the phone screen.
“Where the fuck have you been?”
“Catherine. Always a joy to hear from you.” I closed the sliding door that separated the dining room from the butler’s pantry.
My sister barely paused while I spoke. “Mother has been trying to get ahold of you—”
“She knew where I was,” I argued, but I did feel a pang of guilt. I’d told her I was going to my resort—a nudist resort, as Mom understood it—but I hadn’t told her for how long.
“You’ve been off in the islands for over a month!” Catherine—never “Cate” or “Cat” or, god forbid, “Caty”—scolded. “She’s been worried sick!”
“So, you’re calling me because she’s in the hospital, then?” The moment the words left my mouth, I knew I shouldn’t have said them. What if Mom had been in the hospital? What if something terrible had happened to her, and I started out the conversation with hostility and sarcasm, the way I had when Catherine had called me about Dad.
“Obviously not.” Catherine’s voice dripped with condescension. “I’m calling to remind you about her birthday.”
I wished she could see my exasperated expression through the phone. “I know when her birthday is.”
“Her sixtieth birthday,” Catherine prompted.
Ah, fuck. I knew when my mother’s birthday was. I had forgotten about the fuck-off enormous party happening.
The party that was happening this weekend, smack in the middle of my seven days with Charlotte.
My brain raced for some reason to skip out on the whole thing. Weekends in the country were only fun for society baby boomers who enjoyed snorefest garden parties and showing off their wealth. My mother happened to adore snorefest garden parties and showing off her wealth.
“We’re doing the family party on Friday night,” Catherine went on, as if I must have completely forgotten every single detail. “The children and I will be arriving in the afternoon. Jackson will be joining us on Saturday morning. He’ll be working late on Friday.”
Her flat tone made it clear that she didn’t buy her husband’s story and didn’t expect me to, either. But Catherine had chosen her shitty husband the same way our mother had chosen hers: size of teeth and bank account.
“What time can we expect you?” she asked.
A loud shout of “Fuck!” came from the dining room.
“Oh my god,” Catherine said, fully disgusted. “You’ve got someone with you.”
“Cleaning lady stubbed her toe.” I moved to the other end of the pantry. “But I will be bringing a plus-one.”
“You didn’t RSVP a plus-one,” she reminded me.
“You’re right, I didn’t. And I’m bringing one, anyway, because it’s my fucking childhood home too.” I knew it rankled my sister to be reminded that she wasn’t an only child. “We’ll drive up on Friday.”
“Please, not another of your one-night-stands-turned-brief-engagements,” Catherine huffed.
“We’re not engaged. Yet.” I covered the phone speaker with my thumb as Charlotte wailed a long moan in the dining room, then continued when it was safe. “Mind your own business. Worry about your husband’s plus-one for Friday night.”
“Charming as ever,” my sister seethed, and hung up the phone.
Damnit. This thing with my mother’s birthday was certainly going to throw a huge wrench into my seven days with Charlotte. Once she met my sister, she probably would never speak to me again.
I turned my phone on do not disturb mode and made a mental note to call my mom later. At a time when my girlfriend wasn’t orgasming nonstop at the breakfast table.
“That was fast,” I said cheerfully as I strolled out to find Charlotte, her hands braced on the table, wearing an adorably murderous look.
“Turn it off,” she managed through gritted teeth.
I laughed and hit the button. “Only because you asked so nicely. Did you want to use your word or…”
“I just needed a break.” She pushed her hair back with one hand and reached for some juice with the other.
“How many times did you come when I was on that phone call?” I asked, sitting down and making a point to place the remote beyond her reach.
“Twice, but in a multiple, blended-together way. Way too intense. Like, is it powered by angry bees? My clit is on fucking fire.” She shifted in her seat, and I felt a little bit guilty.
“You know, maybe it’s too much, after everything I’ve done to the poor thing lately.” I frowned. “Also, maybe you’d like to take the vibrator off before I tell you what that call was about.”
She slammed her palm down on the table and demanded, “Who’s Catherine!” with a dramatic voice that didn’t match her mischievous smile.
I laughed. “My sister. Do you want to discuss siblings while wearing a sex toy or…”
Charlotte jumped up and quickly divested herself of the vibrator before sitting back down.
“That’s what I thought.” My coffee was getting cold. I poured a little more from the insulated carafe to warm it up. “As it turns out… I forgot my mother’s birthday party.”
Charlotte’s forehead rumpled slightly. I assumed she was wondering what that had to do with her.
“It’s this weekend,” I clarified.
“Oh.” She squinted. “What day is it today?”
“Today is Wednesday.” I held up seven fingers. “You see the issue, I’m sure?”
“It’s totally no problem. I can stay here. I’m not a dog. I’m not going to chew up your couch if you leave me alone for a few hours.” She picked up a strawberry from her plate and took a bite, adding, “And you’re not going to offend me by not introducing me to your family.”
“It’s for more than a few hours.” I paused. “It’s kind of an all-weekend affair.”
“Oh.” She swallowed, then cleared her throat and forced a smile I didn’t buy for a second. “So, we cut my visit short a little bit. No big. I can always fly back in a few weeks—”
A few weeks? I would miss my mother’s funeral to avoid being away from Charlotte for a few weeks.
No, I wouldn’t. But that was how dramatic I felt.
“Seriously,” she went on, probably because I was sure I looked like I’d swallowed poison. “I’m not going to break up with you because we had to change our plans. I’m capricious, but I’m not that capricious.”
“Leaving early is not what I was going to suggest.” What was I going to suggest? That Charlotte should walk straight into the lion’s den? Worse, the Catherine’s Den? All of my other relationships had been with people who were, if not old money, at least in a tax bracket used to dealing with old money. And Charlotte was so quick to protect herself from rejection that I could easily see her being chased off by noon on Saturday.
But I also planned on her being a part of the rest of my life. It could be better to get the culture shock over with right away, so if she wanted to disentangle herself from me, it wouldn’t be after years of dating.
A thought struck me, then. We’d met at Scott’s doomed wedding in March. Then, we’d had a phone sex relationship for three months. She hadn’t technically been my girlfriend, but I could retroactively count that as dating. Four months was an appropriate span of time after which one could introduce a partner to their family.
Right?
Fuck it.
“I want you to go to Connecticut with me.”
“Go with you to meet your family?” She said it like a foreign phrase she was trying to decipher.
“I know it’s a big ask. We’d drive up on Friday, spend dinner with my wonderful mom and shitty sister, do the whole society party thing on Saturday, brunch Sunday, and come back here.” If she even wanted to come back after she put up with my sister and her awful husband.
“I don’t know…” she winced at her own reluctance.
“If you don’t want to, I completely understand.” And I did. I would be bitterly disappointed if she went home early, but I would very much understand. If I could run away to California, I’d jump at the chance.
“Meeting your family is kind of…big. What if they don’t like me?”
“When it comes to my sister, it’s not an ‘if.’ She doesn’t like me, so she’s not going to like anyone I bring.” Maybe that type of negativity wouldn’t sell my family gathering to Charlotte, but she deserved the warning.
“You make it sound so tempting.” Charlotte sighed. “I guess it’s only fair if I meet your parents. You’ve met mine. And you’ve met my brother.”
“You’ll only be meeting my mom,” I clarified. “Unless you bring a Ouija board.”
“Oh. Ouch.” She grimaced. “Sorry.”
“If you’d met my father, you wouldn’t be sorry.” I didn’t want to tackle that particular subject first thing in the morning. “Speaking of parents… God, this sounds incredibly creepy, considering our age difference, but do your parents know where you are?”
She nearly choked on the drink she’d taken. “Don’t be gross!”
“Was that gross? It sounded gross in my head, but I thought it was that—”
“That our age difference is gross?” She challenged me with an arched brow. “Is that how you feel?”
“No, but I don’t have any shame.” I held up my hands in defeat. “Let me try that again. Do you have people worried about you?”
“Now, that sounds murdery.” She gestured vaguely in the air. “I texted my mom this morning. She knows I’m in New York, and she knows I’m with you.”
“Ah. And how does she feel about…” I pointed between the two of us.
“She doesn’t know that it’s serious yet.” Charlotte flushed as red as the strawberries on her plate. “Not that I’m assuming this is serious—”
“I’m in love with you,” I interrupted. “Is that serious enough?”
“I don’t talk to my parents about my love life. Do you?” she countered.
“Fair enough.” And I assumed Scott had already filled in their parents about the relationship details he did know. He seemed to love to tattle on his sister. It had been funny to listen to all the stories about Charlotte before I was a part of them.
“You don’t think I’m the kind of person who would capriciously disappear, right? Leave everyone to worry about me and not give a shit?” she asked.
“No. You strike me as someone who goes out of her way to make sure she’s pleasing everyone.” Which might make the weekend hell on earth for her. I didn’t want this party, the company my family kept, the society standing that I wanted no part of, to chase her off. “And I don’t want you to feel that way around me.”
“I don’t need to feel that way around you. I know you’re happy to have me around.” The way she said it almost convinced me. But I knew too much about her past and her private pain to naively think she’d changed her entire personality because of me and after one conversation about it.
“I am.” I made sure she could hear the emphasis in my voice. “I am happy to have you around. Just you, and not some version of yourself that you’re performing.”
She reached across the corner of the table and put her hand over mine. “You’re the only person I might be able to believe when you say that.”
“So, I’ve proved that I love you?” As damaged as Charlotte was, I wasn’t sure she’d ever actually accept that I loved her.
She pretended to consider. “Mmm… I might need another seven days to convince me.”
I took her hand and squeezed it. “If that’s what it takes.”
I was prepared to give her the rest of my life. I could think that without breaking into a cold sweat, so that made it official, as far as I was concerned.
In the grand scheme of things, another seven days was nothing at all.