Chapter Thirty Charlotte
Chapter Thirty
Charlotte
“And then can you believe that asshole tried to short me on payment?” Jax says.
I scan through the numbers in front of me, searching for a duplicate.
“Charlotte? Charlotte, are you even listening?”
I glance up from the stack of papers in my lap. The phone numbers of all Apollyon employees. I’ve cross-checked them three times now with the number that’s been sending me texts, but none of them are matching.
I look vaguely toward my best friend. “What?”
Jax cocks her chin to the side before she shakes her head at me.
“Sorry. I’m just so—”
“Distracted by this whole Lucifer thing,” she finishes for me. She grins knowingly before she flops down onto our couch beside me. “He’s really gotten inside your head, hasn’t he?”
I shrug. “I guess so.”
It’s been ten days since Lucifer cast the aurora borealis over the city, an event that sparked all sorts of speculation and debate in the news about what could have possibly caused such a massive disruption in nature. The ideas were ... creative, to say the least. Everything from aliens to Christ’s second coming to even a fear that the Earth’s magnetic poles might have somehow shifted.
In the meantime, Lucifer and I have fallen into this strange kind of rhythm. One where I spend my weekdays working and learning from Imani, but my evenings and weekends belong to him. Carriage rides in the park. Private theater previews. Fine dining. I know it’s all supposed to be for the cameras that now follow us both endlessly, but I can’t help but wonder if certain parts of it are real, or if ...
Maybe he feels the same way as me.
I swallow hard, not fully prepared to admit the truth of how I feel about him to myself, or especially out loud yet. Maybe we’re both just lonely, I try to tell myself.
But I’m falling, hard, and the look Jax gives me says she already knows it.
It’s written all over my face.
I groan, covering my face with my hands. And here she went and warned me to keep my feelings and sex separate.
“I know. I know. It’s just ...”
“You can’t help but see the good in him.” She peels one of my hands away and laces her fingers through mine, squeezing softly. “You always do. You see the good in everyone. It’s part of what I love about you.” She smiles like that’s somehow a good thing, rather than a sign that I’m naive, before nudging shoulders with me. “Plus, I’m sure it doesn’t hurt that the sex is mind blowing.”
I flush, laughing a little as I duck my head lower to hide my face again. I’m still not entirely comfortable talking about my sex life with Lucifer just yet, even with my bestie. With all the twisted religious trauma in my background, I’m not sure I ever will be. “I also really need to figure out who sent that press release,” I add, attempting to change the subject.
Jax sighs. “I know you want to figure out who sent it, for, well ... closure, I guess. But why does it matter, anyway? What’s done is done, right?”
“I guess I just have a feeling that whoever sent it wanted to hurt Lucifer.”
“And if they did, that would mean it’s a good idea to stay out of it. Lucifer’s a big boy. Or angel. Er, whatever.” She flaps a hand in a who-cares gesture. “He can handle himself.”
“I just really want to know, okay?” I lean my head toward her, giving her my best puppy-dog, please-don’t-be-mad-at-me eyes.
“Okay, okay.” She lifts her hands in surrender. “I get it, and you know I’m here for you. Have you told him about the texts, at least?”
I sigh, already anticipating another argument in the making. “No, I haven’t.”
“Charlotte, you need to tell him!” Jax shrieks. Her brows draw together. She’s been on me about this for the last several days, ever since I told her. “We’ll get this figured out, and I’m sure everything will be fine, but if you don’t tell him, how is he supposed to protect you? You’re worrying me.”
“It’s not his job to protect me, Jax. Even from some stupid text-message creeper.” I stand and stalk toward the kitchen, grabbing the remainder of the matcha smoothie I had for breakfast from our minifridge.
“But it’s your job to protect him ?” She throws me a look that distinctly says bitch, please before rolling her eyes at me.
“Okay, point taken,” I grumble, returning to the sofa as I stab my reusable straw into the lid of my smoothie.
Jax sighs. “Look, all I’m trying to say is that if you got yanked into this against your will, and he has the power, let him use it to keep you safe.” Her voice softens, a hint of pity in her eyes. “And since you’re not sure if things between you are real or fake, well, maybe cool it on all the hearts in your eyes, okay? I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”
I nod. “I know.”
She pulls me in for the kind of comforting hug only your bestie can give after she’s basically told you she doesn’t approve of your life choices, but she still plans to love and support you, anyway. That’s what true friends are for, after all. Calling you on your shit and making you a better person, while still loving you at the end of the day, flaws and all.
“How about you come out with me tonight?” Jax casts me a hopeful grin. “I’m meeting some theater friends at The Sapphire Lounge, and Ian’s coming with. It could be a fun change of pace.”
Another one of Gluttony’s clubs.
I’m not exactly thrilled about the idea of missing out on an evening with Lucifer, no matter how fake our relationship may be, but Jax always takes me to the trendiest places, and it could be a good photo opportunity. And truthfully, I’ve missed the “high vibes” and laid-back positivity of my bestie. Hanging with Jax is easy. We could use some time together.
I give a halfhearted smile. “Sure, why not?”
Jax lifts her water bottle in the air, the one with the peeling sticker that reads “Virgos do it best,” dancing a little as she pretends it’s a stiffer drink. “Yas, queen!”
I laugh as she stands and heads toward our shared bedroom.
“Plus, Ian’s been dying to see you, you know.” She wiggles her brows over her shoulder at me.
I roll my eyes, following her. “Even if I was interested, you know I couldn’t start anything with him until this whole thing with Lucifer is over. We still have another two weeks before the Met Gala.”
She stands in front of the body-length mirror at the foot of her bed, holding up a strapless gold dress she snagged off a nearby hanger. Our apartment is small enough we don’t even have a proper closet, so we split the bill for a standing clothes rack.
The word “rack” brings up a fresh memory that makes me blush a little, and I turn away, busying myself with searching for an outfit of my own so Jax doesn’t see where my thoughts were heading. Maybe I can take her to the penthouse with me, and we can raid my closet there.
“I still can’t believe he moved the freaking Met Gala for you.” She tosses the gold dress aside, trading it for a cerulean blue one. Like a lot of aspiring Broadway artists, Jax is an amateur fashionista. No doubt she’d appreciate all the details more than me. “It’s the biggest fashion event in the city. I mean, who does that?”
“Lucifer, apparently.” I shrug. “He made it sound easy.”
“Maybe for him, but for the rest of us peons?” She scoffs.
“What do you have against him, anyway?” I place a hand on my hip, but I drop it as soon as she turns to me. She isn’t trying to be a bitch. She’s just concerned for me.
If the roles were reversed, I’d do the same.
She crosses the room and places her hands on my shoulders, a worried expression on her face. “I just don’t want to see you get tied up with someone who’s emotionally unavailable, that’s all. You’re still so new to this whole dating thing.”
I force a smile, not loving the reminder of my old life, even as I place my hands over hers to reassure her. “I know you’re just looking out for me, but I’m in this at least until the Gala, okay?”
She doesn’t realize that I’m doing this, at least in part, for her.
She nods, understanding, even if she doesn’t agree. “If you say so.” She flits back to the other side of the room, this time heading for the mountain of heels she keeps piled on the floor in one large heap. There’s a slim, creaky door to contain them that’s probably supposed to be the closet but is really more of a crawl space turned shoe storage than anything.
Jax lived here first, so I didn’t hesitate to cede the space to her.
She owns more shoes than me, anyway. Well, she did before , at least.
“What about you?” I ask, trying once again to change the subject. “Have you ... had any insights into who might have put something in your drink?” It’s only been seventeen days since then, and I don’t want to bring up something so touchy, but we’ve hardly seen each other lately, and I also know she’ll need to talk about it eventually.
Even though Lucifer and I found her before the worst could happen, being someone’s target in that way changes you.
She shrugs, returning to the gold dress. “Not really. But I did have this dream where I was back there. At Az’s club, I mean.” She glances over her shoulder. “But you and Lucifer were there, standing in front of me. You were ... trying to tell me something, but I couldn’t hear you over the sound of the music, I guess, and there was this, this man standing in the background, watching over you, like he knew you, but he was cloaked in shadow, so I ... couldn’t see his face. He reached out a hand toward you and Lucifer, and I tried to warn you. Of what, I don’t know. I just knew I had to tell you, but the drugs were already in my system, and I ... I couldn’t move.” She stares off into the distance for a moment, that glazed look she gets sometimes during her tarot readings. “And then I woke up.” Her attention snaps toward me.
Silence presses between us.
Jax waves a hand, forcing a smile. “I’m sure it’s nothing.”
I nod, forcing a grin in return, but as I glance toward my phone, looking down at the unknown number and the cryptic string of texts I’ve been receiving, I can’t help but picture a shadowy figure, coming for both Lucifer and me.