29. Completely, Insanely, Irrevocably Irresistible
29
COMPLETELY, INSANELY, IRREVOCABLY IRRESISTIBLE
CHARLES
“Can you zip me up?” Daisy stands before me, dressed in a silk champagne-colored cocktail dress. Her hair is elegantly swept up in a loose bun, secured by the rhinestone daisy clip I gifted her for Christmas.
Warmth floods my chest at the sight of it. I fell in love with that clip the moment I laid eyes on it on the jeweler’s website.
“How does it look?” She glances over her shoulder with a smile on her lips.
“You always make it look beautiful.” The words tumble from my lips instinctively, causing her smile to falter.
She turns around, her hand over her chest, holding her unzipped dress in place. “Do you even know how sweet you are sometimes?”
“Does that mean my plan is working?” I pull her closer, my hands finding home on her waist.
“And what plan would that be?”
“To make myself irresistible to you,” I state and she grins.
“Definitely. You are completely, insanely, irrevocably irresistible to me, dear husband.”
“Mission accomplished.” I lean in, but before I can ravish her lips like I want to, she places her hand over my mouth.
When I raise an eyebrow, she gives me an air-kiss and smiles. “Sorry, but I’ve spent a lot of time on my makeup tonight, and I’m not going to let you ruin it.”
I gently remove her hand from my mouth before tucking a loose curl behind her ear. “You look beautiful, and I agree to not touch your makeup right now. But once we’re back home, your makeup, your dress, everything will be ruined if I don’t find you on our bed, begging for my cock.”
She blushes, as always when I talk dirty to her. And lately, I’ve made a habit of it just to see that adorable color on her cheeks.
My hands, which are resting on her hips, slide upward to the small of her back. Without losing eye contact, I slowly zip up her dress, stopping midway.
“Are you seriously going to a public event without a bra?” My gaze drops from her face to her chest before returning to meet her eyes, watching her lips curve into a smile.
“Actually, I am. The dress has a built-in bra.”
“I love it.” I run my hand along the silky fabric. “It means I have one less thing to take off.”
“Who knew you could have such a one-track mind, my dear husband. But there are hundreds of people waiting for you at the ballroom, so be a gentleman.” She grins, adjusting my pocket square before stepping out of my arms.
I help Daisy drape a shawl over her shoulders. “By the way, what’s the charity for?”
“It’s for kids who’ve lost their parents.”
As we arrive at the venue, I feel a surge of anxiety watching the press outside, their cameras aimed at every car passing through the gates. I’m still in the middle of my routine of breathing in, breathing out, and repeating when Daisy places her hand on my thigh, intertwining our fingers.
“It’s going to be great.” She ups the wattage of her smile, though I’m not sure if I’m doing a good job of masking my nerves.
Once again catching me off guard, Daisy leans in and plants a kiss on the corner of my mouth. With her thumb, she smudges any lipstick she might have left behind. My grip tightens around hers.
“What happened to your makeup getting ruined?”
Any lingering anxiety dissipates as she shoots me a sassy look and winks. “Fuck the makeup. You look absolutely delicious, my dear husband.”
I’m still grinning when Steve opens my door, and before my lips can flatten at the sight of the multitude of cameras pointed at me, Daisy is by my side. She loops her arm through mine, clinging to me as if she needs support, when the reality is quite the opposite.
The burning sensation in my chest intensifies. I know I’ll never find anyone else quite like her. Someone who knows my insecurities. And even if she extracts great joy in making fun of me in private, in public, she’s determined to ensure I appear the strongest, bravest, and simply the best, period.
“That went well. What do you say?” she asks as we make our way to the carpeted entryway of the building.
“Everything goes well when I have a charm like you sticking to me like superglue.”
She laughs up to the ceiling as the doors open and a venue staff member runs forward. “This way, Mr. and Mrs. Hawthorne.”
As Daisy and I step inside the main reception hall, which is at its maximum capacity, all heads turn toward us, and my familiar anxiety starts to make its appearance.
She’s about to take another step forward when I lightly tug her back. “Don’t you dare leave my side.” The word ever remains lost in my throat.
Her brows knit together in surprise before she slowly nods and whispers, “I’ll stick to you like a parasite, husband.”
I can’t stop my lips curling into a grin. It’s definitely a first that I’m smiling instead of furiously searching for the exit in the middle of a social event.
The night progresses better than I expected. Perhaps it’s because of the woman who hasn’t left my side for a single second.
She maintains a constant smile, even as she fields detailed questions about our work and love life—not my words but those of a woman whose name I’ve forgotten. Daisy makes excuses on my behalf when she sees my patience wearing thin, especially as one man after another tries to broker a deal.
What did they expect? That I’d shake hands with them after hearing their pitch for five seconds and say, “Let’s become best business buddies”?
Conference rooms are meant for that, not stuffy parties.
But this old man before us is proving to be difficult, as he fails to pick up on Daisy’s polite hints. I’m a breath away from throttling him for giving my wife such a hard time.
“Mr. Hart, you’ll hear from us soon,” Daisy repeats in her same patient voice. “I have your business card. In fact, I have three.” She waves those blue-and-white cards in the air. “But if you’ll please excuse us, I have to show Charles something.”
The man, who appears to be in his late sixties, places his half-full champagne glass on the side table. “Oh, maybe I can tag along.”
No, you cannot.
I’m about to take a step forward and tell him that we’ve had enough, when Daisy holds my hand, once again intertwining our fingers.
“I’m sorry, but I have to say no. It’s actually something romantic, and I’d like to show it to Charles alone.” Daisy whispers the last sentence as if letting him in on some secret.
Confusion paints Mr. Hart’s face, and I’m about to put my foot down because there’s no way this man is accompanying us. My wife has something romantic planned and no one sees it but me.
“Of course. You lovebirds go away.” He shoos us like pigeons, something no one has dared to do to me before.
But I’m too happy to care about anything. Daisy and I skip out of the room like arrows shot from a taut string. I don’t know who pulled whom out first. We step into a lobby that is thankfully vacant, and Daisy leads me down the left corridor flanked by several rooms on either side.
“It’s here?” I raise an eyebrow. I thought it would have been on the top terrace.
She places a finger over her lips and motions for me to follow. We finally stop at one of the last doors, and she takes out a key card from her purse.
As we step inside the room, my gaze traces the walls, which have olive-green wood panels. There are several paintings hung on them, but nothing says “romantic” to me.
“It’s here? The romantic thing?” My hands slide into my pants pockets as I scan the room once again.
“I’m sorry, there’s nothing. I booked this room for you in case it became too overwhelming in the ballroom. But you’re doing so great.” Daisy steps forward and pats my tie. Her hand lingers over my chest. “I still wanted to tell you about it. You can come here anytime, under the pretense of an urgent phone call.”
My heart is about to burst out of my rib cage.
She’s taken care of everything.
But why am I surprised? It’s not the first time she’s done such a thing. There’s a reason Daisy is the absolute best assistant I’ve ever had. She knows what I want without me saying it, and she delivers it without fuss.
My heartbeat escalates, whispering slowly that she’s more than an assistant, but I ignore the voice, which has slowly started to grow louder and louder.
I take a step forward, and her eyes go wide as she steps back until I have her captive against the wall.
“Don’t you dare look at me like that, Charles!” She tries to move away, but I circle my arm around her waist, pulling her closer to my chest.
“Like what?”
“Like you do when you’re turned on.” Her hands on my chest make a lame attempt at pushing me away.
“What can I say? We’re alone in a room that you arranged for us, and you’re looking so beautiful. I wonder if you imagined us like this.” I tuck a curl of her hair behind her ear with my free hand. “You against the wall, your dress bunched around your waist, my hands pushing the zipper down.”
“Wh-what? I did not!” She gulps hard, and I almost want to laugh.
“But you don’t hate the idea,” I quip, drawing circles over the column of her neck with my thumb.
“I—I…” she stammers, then closes her eyes. I clamp down on my laughter, watching her breathe deeply and mumble something inaudible before she opens her eyes again. “Charles, we cannot have sex here!”
“Why not?”
“Because there’s a party going on less than fifty feet away, and I’m not going to walk into that room after having sex with you. People will know!”
“Nobody will know. I’ll make sure of that. You just keep your screams under control.” I dip my head lower. Even though she’s wearing those killer heels, she only reaches my chest.
“My screams? What about you?” Her chest rises and falls in sync with mine as I kiss the column of her neck.
But before I can do or say anything more, a loud noise comes from right outside the door, as if somebody just dropped a tray full of cocktail glasses. Daisy pushes against my chest and slips out of my hold.
“Don’t you dare put me under your spell, Hawthorne,” she says, fixing her hair before opening the door and storming out.
I follow her back into the ballroom with a grin on my face. The night is once again looking up.
“I was searching for a scowling face among the crowd, yet here you are, grinning like this is your favorite spot.” I hear Ray’s voice before he slaps my back.
“And I didn’t know I should be looking for you here. Have you secretly become a fan of such events, brother?”
He smirks. “I like them just as much as you do. Of course, unlike you, I’m not here to flaunt my wife or marriage, but for business.”
My molars smash together, and right then I spot Daisy returning from the powder room. Her gaze immediately finds me, and she gives me a soft smile.
“You control your tongue around her, Ray.” I speak in a low voice, which only makes my cousin grin more.
“Hello, Raymond.” Daisy slides up beside me, and reflexively, my arm goes around her waist, pulling her closer.
My cousin’s astute gaze follows my move, but thankfully, he keeps his mouth shut.
“Since you have someone to protect you, I’ll be back in a second.” Unaware of the silent tension between Ray and me, Daisy grins and tries to pull away. But my grip around her waist only tightens.
“Where are you going?” The words slip past my lips easily.
“Um, I want to let the organizers know that we’ll be leaving soon.” Her eyes dart to Ray before settling back on me. “I’ll be back in a sec, I promise.”
“Don’t worry, Daisy. Go ahead. I’ll keep your husband safe.” Ray winks at my wife. I know he means no harm to her, but protectiveness surges inside me.
When she finally leaves, he coughs, but before he can throw a jab my way, I give him a stern stare. “Don’t you fucking say a thing.”
Ray shows me his hands in mock surrender and then grins. “I was about to say that it’s good to see you like this.”
“And what’s the reason for your unexpected presence here?”
“Would you believe it if I said I didn’t come to ruin your lovely evening, Charlie? I just came to have a few words with the mayor.” Ray tips his head toward the mayor of Cherrywood at the other end of the room, surrounded by her army of personal assistants. “I hear she’s a fan of such events.”
“And why are you stalking her? She’s been married to a good man for almost twenty years, for your information.”
“Very funny.” He laughs softly. “But I’m here to talk about the land for the hotel.”
“I thought you were going to negotiate with the owners.”
“That’s still in the works.” There’s a tic in his jaw for the first time this evening.
“Looks like someone’s plans aren’t panning out.”
“But why don’t you worry about your wife? Her one second seems to have stretched out for several minutes.”
Those several minutes continue to stretch. Ray is already with the mayor, laughing and charming the woman, while I’m left unguarded, ready for anyone to come up to me. And they do. I’m drawing these men like moths.
I entertained the first man who approached me, but it quickly became apparent why I avoid such events. I despise small talk.
I’m about to storm out of the room when I hear my name in her cooing, soft voice.
“Charles.” Daisy stands by the door and beckons me over with a curl of her hand.
Her smile, the curl of her lips pulled to one side, is enough to bring my fast-beating heart to its normal pace.
Without thought, I reach her in two long steps.
“Where were you? I was wait—”
“I know. I’m sorry. But I met someone, and I want you to meet them too.” Her smile hasn’t slipped an inch. “Come with me.” She once again tugs me toward the hallway, but this time I’m not feeling the same excitement like the last time she led me in this direction.
“Who did you meet, Daisy?” My feet stop, bringing hers to a halt as well.
The shine in her eyes drops but wasn’t she the one who promised to stick to me like a parasite?
“You remember I told you this function is for homeless and orphaned kids and a few were invited?” She holds my hands in between hers, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. “They are the sweetest bunch, Charles. I promised them a meeting with a prince, so are you ready, my dear husband?” She bites her lip, her excitement barely contained.
While I was experiencing one of the most uncomfortable moments of my adult life, waiting for her like a lovesick puppy, she’s busy making new friends?
But Daisy isn’t waiting for a response or reaction from me. No, she’s too pumped, for whatever damn reason. That’s how, moments later, I find myself standing outside a room while my wife walks in, straight to a group of kids seated around a fireplace and holding neatly wrapped gifts.
“Hey, kids, this is Charles. He’s the prince of Cherrywood.” She grins conspiratorially with all the tiny humans, while an uncomfortable feeling claws at my chest, begging to be released.
I’m about to insist that we need to leave this place right now, when someone tugs on my pant legs. I look down to see a little girl barely reaching my knees, with a toothy grin and pigtails. “Would you like to join our tea party?”
Tea party? What’s happening tonight?
I’m Charles Hawthorne, the man who has avoided every social interaction for the last decade with the same intensity a supermodel avoids carbs.
Yet here I stand.
I don’t reply to her, because all the ways that come up in my head to decline the invitation aren’t polite or suited for a young girl’s ears.
Everyone keeps staring at me for a while, including my wife, as if expecting a response. But I continue to stand there like a statue with my arms crossed over my chest. Daisy must have finally become attuned to my feelings, as she slowly turns to the kids away from me.
But not before I catch her smile losing its shine. As always, her face speaks volumes. She’s disappointed, but right now, so am I.
“Okay, kids, it’s time for me to leave, but I wish you all the very best. And, Max, when we meet next time, I hope you can teach me how to play chess.” She fusses with the hair of a little boy who’s holding a chess set close to his chest.
Daisy doesn’t wait for me and marches right out of the room.
“Do you know these kids?” I ask, catching up with her.
“I don’t have to know everyone to be polite to them.” Her lips press into a thin line.
“You’re upset?”
“And you’re very perceptive,” she replies flatly.
I run a hand over my jaw as the vision of a little girl’s crestfallen face swims before me, and a twinge of guilt tightens around my heart like a lasso. “I’m not an asshole in general, Daisy. But I’ve just had enough of this place.”
“Of course you have. When can anyone or anything be bigger than you?” Before I can tell her that’s not true, Daisy stops under the sign pointing toward the restrooms. “Can you tell Steve or Dave that we’re ready to leave, and I’ll meet you in the parking lot in a few minutes?”
She doesn’t wait for my reply and walks away from me. My feet remain stuck for a beat as I watch her leave, and once she’s no longer in my sight, I turn around.
My breath skitters as I find myself back at the same doorway of the room, watching the kids lost in their own world.
“Can I help you, Mr. Hawthorne?” A middle-aged woman approaches me from behind. “My name is Greta Day. I’m the head supervisor at the local orphanage.”
I swallow the lump in my throat before words find their way. “I was invited to a tea party a few minutes ago.”
The woman’s brows rise.
“I didn’t properly reply to the invitation. Unfortunately, I cannot attend, but could you please arrange for a proper party tomorrow nevertheless? Please send all the invoices to my office.”
Her eyes crinkle at the corners, sparkling with joy and surprise. “That’s…very generous of you, Mr. Hawthorne. The kids would love that.”
The burden of my guilt lessens a tiny bit, and I stride toward the parking lot, where Dave is waiting for me, holding an umbrella against the unexpected rain. Daisy is already seated in the car, and as I slip in beside her, no words are exchanged between us.
How did this evening turn out like this? So many promises were made for later, but now it’s like something broke between us. Eventually, her silence becomes unbearable.
“Why are you still so upset?”
In response, she folds her arms over her chest, looking out the window as if she can’t hear me.
“Is it not enough that I’ve given more money to this charity in one night than they would otherwise see in a decade?”
I hate every word that comes out of my mouth, but it’s like my tongue is possessed.
When Daisy turns around, her eyes are blazing with untapped anger. I have seen her in a lot of different moods, but the emotions on her face right now are new—raw and personal, as if she’s silently warning me to choose my next words carefully.
“You can’t fix this problem by humoring those children for a few minutes, Daisy.” I lower my voice and try to keep it light, hoping to put this behind us.
“They’re not a problem. They’re kids. And I’m really worried about your future little ones, Charles.” She rips away the bandage I was just trying to apply.
“No need. I already told you I don’t want any of those.”
“You don’t want one of those ?” She repeats my words as if that’s the craziest thing she’s ever heard. “You realize if everyone thought like you did, there wouldn’t be you, me, or all the other people in this world?”
Why is she so surprised? I thought I made myself clear already on how I feel about kids.
“I don’t have a problem with the general idea of procreation, but it’s not for me. I don’t want to make decisions for someone who doesn’t even realize how much effort you’re putting in. I would rather do something where I have a clear understanding of the return I’m getting.”
“A child is not an investment!” She throws her hands up in the air. “It’s an emotion, a feeling.”
“Good for those who want to experience it, but that’s not me.”
She looks at me with wide eyes as if she can’t believe what she’s hearing and then lets out a bitter laugh. “Why am I surprised?”
I hate the way she says it.
It feels like everything we shared these past months has vanished in the wake of this evening. She’s once again just my assistant, who equally admires and hates me.
But what she’s arguing against is wrong. As much as I’m pleased Daisy had a loving childhood, her extreme anger toward my behavior is unwarranted.
“You think you can change the lives of those kids by simply talking to them? They don’t need to be pampered but made aware that no one is going to come and help them. They’ll have to work harder than other kids their age. So instead of asking Max to practice chess, you should have asked him to study hard so he can find a job. You—”
I’m still in the middle of my monologue when she flips the button and the privacy screen comes down.
“Dave, can you please stop the car here?”
My driver looks at me and then toward the heavy downpour through my window.
“You want something?” I ask carefully, but my suspicion is already rising.
“Yes, I want fresh air.” Her chin lifts in defiance. “The air in this car has become too suffocating for me.”
“Don’t be stupid, Daisy. It’s cold and raining outside. You’ll get sick.”
“I would rather get sick than sit with you right now, Charles.”
“Why? Because I’m telling the truth?”
“Because you’re being an asshole!”
My bodyguard’s cough lightly reminds us of their innocent presence.
“Just stop the freaking car.”
When Dave looks at me again, all her anger gets transferred to my driver.
“I’m not Charles’ property. If you don’t stop the car, then I’m going to jump out.” Her hand is already at the door, and her face says she’ll do it—jump out of the fast-moving car just to get away from me.
This time, Dave doesn’t wait to see my nod, and the car comes to a screeching halt. Daisy wastes no time, and before I can say anything, she’s out.
“Fuck!” I follow her as she strides down the street. Fast-falling raindrops are almost blinding, and my tux is soaking wet in a few seconds.
“That’s enough show for one day.” I grit my teeth. “Get back in the car, Daisy.”
She doesn’t listen to me. Her wet dress clings to her as she marches away like a woman on a mission. A mission I don’t understand.
She’d get fucking sick if we continue this ill-timed walk. I grab her arm and tug her back. Daisy loses her balance but I’m here to catch her.
My hands stay on her waist, and I take a moment to calm the loud thumping in my heart. “Why are you so upset?”
When she looks up at me, there’s fire in her eyes.
“Daisy, what am I missing here?” I ask her in my softest voice.
She’s not one to flip without reason—that’s me.
“Because I was one of those kids not many years ago.”
What? My mouth dries in the middle of the rain.
“I don’t understand.”
“My dad and mom adopted me, Charles. I’m not their biological kid. I was just a homeless girl who made her way to their place on a rainy night like this.” Her hands grip the lapels of my jacket, and the fire fades from her eyes.
“Fuck, butterfly. I…I didn’t know.”
“It doesn’t freaking matter.” Her words come out in a staccato rhythm due to her teeth chattering in the cold. “Just so you know, as much as those kids need someone to remind them about their tough life ahead, what they really crave is love.” She pushes her wet hair away from her face and her slowly turning-blue lips.
“Daisy, I—”
“No. You don’t get to say anything, Charles, because you don’t know, but I do. I know I’m not going to change their life by ‘smiling and humoring them for thirty minutes.’” She makes air quotes, repeating my words, filling me with more regret. “But what I also know is that in these thirty minutes, I’ve given them a reminder that not everyone in this world is waiting for them to fail. There are good people out there, like my mom and dad. People who believe in them. People who think these kids deserve fun as much as any other kid. And when random assholes try to knock these angels down, they can look back to these thirty minutes, and maybe it’ll give them strength and hope.”
Every word from her mouth, every tear from her eye mixing with the rain, hits straight into my heart.
“I’m sorry for making a scene, but when I said I couldn’t sit in the car with your words hanging in the air and reminding me of every crappy comment I’ve ever heard in my life, I really couldn’t.”
Daisy doesn’t wait for my response or an apology, marching back to the car, while I stay stunned at my spot.
How did I not know this about her?