34. Charlie
THIRTY-FOUR
CHARLIE
I sat in the premium seats in the middle of the aisle where Sebastian and I had pleased ourselves before. My fingers trailed over the red velvet armrest, and I inhaled the scent of old popcorn and musty cushions. Happiness fizzed inside me as I thought of this old building getting an update. It was so much better than what I’d wanted to save. People would come to New Elwood and enjoy this building, instead of walking by and frowning at the peeling paint and blown lightbulbs.
And I’d done it with Sebastian. My foot bounced up and down as I waited for him, heat sparking in my veins at the thought of what we could do in here, all alone, to celebrate our big win.
Then he walked in, eyes wild and bowtie askew. Dark strands of hair fell over his brow and ears, as if he’d run his hands through it half a dozen times.
I stood. “Sebastian? Is everything okay?”
His steps ate the distance between us, and then I was in his arms. He let out a deep, shuddering breath, and then captured my lips with his. He nipped at my bottom lip, then slid his tongue against mine. I clung to him, falling into the kiss, then pulled away.
Something was off.
“We did it,” he said, speaking a little too fast, “we can save this place.”
I pushed a strand of hair off his forehead. “What aren’t you telling me?”
“Charlie, I—” His eyes were dark in the gloom of the theater, his palms pressing into my sides as he dragged me closer. “You mean so much to me, Charlie.”
My shoulders softened. “Same here,” I told him. As his gaze flicked between my eyes, I knew that this was my chance. We were riding this high, and I was sick of waiting to ask the question that was burning inside me. It would be easy to fall into his arms, to accept the pleasure of his touch, but I needed to know the future was secure.
I put my fingers on his lips just as he was going to speak. “So listen, I want to talk to you about something.”
He swallowed hard. Frowned. “Yeah?”
There were shadows in his eyes that didn’t make sense after our big win. “We’re celebrating, right? Saving the Monticello? It feels good, doesn’t it?”
“It does.”
My heart rattled. Everything had led up to this moment. And with Sebastian’s arms around me, I had to believe it would all work out. So I took a bracing breath, ready to reveal my most secret dream. “What we’re doing with the theater—what you’ll do with the theater—I want to do that with Radcliffe House Apartments.”
“Charlie—”
“Just hear me out. I get that it’s worth more to you dead than alive, and you don’t want to invest another dime into it. But I do. I want you to reconsider razing the house and instead, let me buy it from you.”
He blinked. His breath caught, and something like despair flashed across his eyes. My own panic mounted, because I didn’t understand this mood. We should’ve been high on our win! We should’ve been celebrating! But Sebastian looked like he’d just put all his chips on red—and lost. Something was wrong.
When he spoke, his voice was ragged. “What are you talking about?”
I backed away from him slightly, still in the circle of his arms but with a few inches between us. Hands on his shoulders, I met his gaze head-on. “I’m talking about selling it to me. Fair and square at market value. I got approved for the loan. It’ll take time, but I’ll fix it up and it won’t be your problem anymore. We can put the whole thing behind us.”
Shutting his eyes, his features grew taut. My panic sharpened, its nails dragging down my spine, bumping over every knobby bone on the way down.
“Sebastian?”
His lids cut open, and those warm green eyes had turned remote. “It’s a nice idea, Charlie, but do you understand what a massive undertaking that is? It’s a hundred years old. You’d have to sink tens or hundreds of thousands of dollars to restore it.”
I backed up another step, and our hands fell away from each other. “I know that, but it’s my home, Sebastian. Why don’t you get that? It’s the most important thing in my life.” My voice cracked on the last word.
Those cold, remote eyes bore into mine. A moment before he spoke the words, I felt his rejection bubble up. “I’m sorry, but I can’t accept your offer.”
My breaths were made of broken glass. They cut my throat and lungs and lips. I clenched my fists. “Why not? Do you want more money? Name your price.”
The remoteness cracked. His voice was pleading. “Charlie, please try to understand.”
“Understand? What am I supposed to understand?”
“I can’t . Just—just give me some time. I just need time.”
“Time for what ?”
When he didn’t answer, my jaw firmed. There was some chasm between us that hadn’t been there an hour ago. I stiffened my chin. “Fine, then as the official heritage officer, I’ll stop you. You’ll never get the approval to tear it down.”
His eyes closed. Defeat. “Charlie…”
“What? Maybe it’s not Ford’s Theater or a landmark building that has great revenue potential, but it’s my home. It’s a historic house, and it’s my job to protect it.”
When he spoke, his voice was soft and gentle. I would have preferred anything but gentle. “I respect what you’re trying to do, truly. But the house isn’t heritage-listed. There’s nothing you can do.”
Confusion felt like a thousand pins piercing my skin all over. “What are you talking about?”
“You have no say in what happens to that house, Charlie. It’s not up to you.”
My breaths were coming fast and sharp. I shook my head. “You’re wrong!”
“I’m not. The demolition permit came through this week. But just give me some time. I just need to figure — ” He reached for me, but I flinched back, my heart beating unsteadily.
Then a wailing alarm rent the air, piercing my eardrums as if keeping me from hearing another hurtful thing.
I glanced up as black, foul-smelling sludge came spluttering out of the sprinklers in the ceiling, and I shrieked.
“Fire! Fire!” Sebastian hollered, panic-stricken. “We have to get to the exit. Now!” His hand closed over my wrist before he tugged me out of the theater and down into the chaos beyond.
A fire? How could all my hopes go up in flames in an instant? How could this place burn after I poured my heart and soul into saving it? Maybe this was part of Sebastian’s diabolical plan. String me along just to snatch it all away. Burn it to the ground.
Ripping myself out of his grasp, I flew into the mass of people stampeding for the exit and ignored the sound of him calling my name. The spray had gone from black to brown and was slowly becoming clear. The putrid stench spread throughout the lobby. I bumped someone’s shoulder pushing my way through the madness and picked up my skirt as I ran across a clear patch of tile toward the exit, nearly slipping on the slick floors and getting myself trampled.
Then I felt the sharp bite of nails gripping my arm and turned toward a wide-eyed Abigail. “There you are. I’ve been looking all over for you. I need to talk to you.” Her hair was plastered to her head with a substance that belonged in a biology lab’s petri dish.
“Not now. There’s a fire! We need to get out of here.” My voice hitched on the last word at the thought of everything I loved being destroyed.
“There’s no fire,” she said in a low voice. Grim-faced, Abigail towed me out of there.
“What?” A puff of humid Virginia air hit my face and caused the beads of sweat on my brow to double in size.
“I pulled the fire alarm. I needed to get you away from him.”
Oh, Abigail. No friend would ever be as loyal or as impulsive. I let her tow me along the sidewalk as my throat clenched. “You heard what he told me?”
She frowned. “What did he tell you?”
“He’s not selling me the house. He won’t even consider it.” I glanced over my shoulder to watch the people streaming out, the scream of fire engine sirens getting closer. But there was no smoke, no flames raging across the marquee. In the throng, there was no sign of Sebastian either. Good. Maybe he’d accidentally drunk an entire mouthful of that awful sprinkler sludge, got some hundred-year-old disease, and shat himself to death.
“Well, that tracks,” she replied darkly. “Goes right along with what I overheard him say about the theater.”
I turned back to face Abigail, frowning. “What about the theater?”
“That jerk has some kind of deal with Theo Sinclair. He’s selling the Monticello to him.”
The red-hot anger that had pulsed in my veins turned ice-cold. I blinked. Blinked again. “What?” Sebastian was selling the theater? To Theo Sinclair? And he wouldn’t sell my house to me? What the hell?
That couldn’t be. But…he’d talked about investors. Was that why he’d been so cagey about his connection with Sinclair?
My breaths became jagged. He’d lied to me. This whole time he’d kissed me and touched me and lied . Everything had been a lie. Everything had been a manipulation.
“You’re sure?” My voice sounded thin, even to my ears.
“Yes, I heard them talking about it by the bar after your presentation. I’ve been trying to find you ever since, but you disappeared.”
Disappeared was right. Disappeared into Sebastian’s deception. Now not only was he ridding himself of my home, he was ridding himself of the Monticello too. Had that been the point of all this? To get rid of everything? To get rid of me? Wasn’t that what happened when a man was done using you?
“Charlie!” Sebastian called my name from the Monticello entrance. He sounded so sincere, but now I was wise to his duplicity. Our eyes met over the heads of the people separating us.
His hair was smeared over his head, dirty water running in rivulets down his neck and soaking his once-pristine collar. His brows rose, pleading, and he made to move toward us.
Pain lashed across me, burning lines of fire that stole my breath. I turned from him and dragged in a deep breath. “I need to get out of here. I can’t believe I fell for that jerk,” I managed through clenched teeth, but all I wanted to do was scream.
“That’s how those slick guys are,” Abigail said, but I knew exactly what she was thinking: Told ya so .
I scanned the parked cars and swore. “Ted’s not here. We drove in that dick-mobile.” I glared at the enemy’s Maserati.
“Charlie!” Sebastian’s voice cut through the dark night in the distance, and my heart raced a mile a minute. If only I could escape this hell just as fast.
“I don’t want to see him ever again,” I told Abigail.
She reached into her glittering clutch, then tossed me her keys. “Here. Take my car over there. I’ll slow him down.”
“How are you going to do that?”
Abigail pulled a pocket knife from her purse, and a blade slashed out of its shell. She eyed the fine Italian tires on his shiny expensive vehicle. “Carrie Underwood-style. Maybe next time he’ll think before he messes with my friend.”
And that was why I could always count on Abigail. She was my loyal ride or die. “Thanks, Abigail.”
“Hurry.” She pointed toward her car.
I rushed for the door, and seconds later, peeled out of the parking lot. My hands trembled and it felt like I couldn’t get a full breath in. Unshed tears stung my eyelids at the thought of giving my heart to a man who never deserved it.
But I bottled up the hurt and buried it deep, then swung the car around and pointed it toward the one place I knew I could get answers.
The municipal building was pitch-black, and I felt almost criminal barging my way in. But I wasn’t the guilty one. I locked myself in my office. My hands were damp and shaking when I flicked on the light and pushed soppy strands of hair out of my face. With my wet gown clinging to my hips, I grimaced at its ruined state. The rental place would charge me a fortune. But I couldn’t worry about that now.
I searched the town’s records going back a hundred years. I scoured heritage listings and development approvals. I even trudged my way down into the dark, dank basement and rifled through old, faded records for the house, all the way back to the day it was built.
Sebastian was right. He had me. Radcliffe House Apartments did not have heritage status in New Elwood. How had I missed this? Why had I assumed the house was protected? How could I be so terrible at my job that I didn’t realize the most important detail of all?
I yelled and threw the book across the room as tears stung my eyes.
This meant I had no recourse. I couldn’t block the demolition. Once the six-month notice period was up, I would have no choice but to watch that house be destroyed. I stared at the old records in front of me with a deepening sense of horror, dread, and bone-deep embarrassment. I’d been stomping around like some puffed-up lunatic, thinking that I’d stop him. All the while, he must have known I had no power at all.
All the while he was out in Sinclair Vineyards, smoking cigars with the other villain in this story. I couldn’t do anything about it. I’d handed him the approval from the council on a silver platter, and now I was going to lose everything I loved. Everything I cared about.
I dragged my defeated ass outside, the hem of my gown scraping against the ground. All I wanted to do was go home and curl up in my bed forever. But I couldn’t go home. Sebastian would be there eventually. And I couldn’t stand to see him. I wouldn’t. I could never go home again.
Who was I kidding? I didn’t have a home. I had a ratty old apartment in a broken-down attic. I had a suitcase or two worth of clothes, a few throw pillows, and memories.
I thought I could actually buy the place and restore it? I thought Sebastian would look at me, nod, and say, Sure, sounds good. Sign on the dotted line .
I was such a fucking fool. He’d used me all this time, and I’d had no idea. I’d run around working to help his deal go through and had made myself homeless in the process.
He’d tear that house down, and I’d have to watch. All those memories, all that happiness—gone. The only home I’d ever known.
I sat in Abigail’s car and let the tears come. I reeked of dank sprinkler water and moldy basement. I wanted a shower and a vat of wine, but all I could do was lean my head on the steering wheel and weep.
Because I’d fallen for him. I’d fallen for his cocky smile and the way he softened. I’d fallen for the excitement he faked when we worked on the boutique hotel pitch. I’d fallen for the way he made me feel , which was cherished and respected and beautiful.
And it had all been a lie.
Sobs shook my frame as I gripped the steering wheel, emptying myself of all the hopes that would never come to fruition. I’d have to watch Sinclair take over the Monticello, knowing that he was making money off the back of my efforts. I’d have to face my parents’ memory and tell them I’d failed.
I’d failed at everything. Soon, everyone in town would know. The little girl who never belonged here screwed everyone over. She was such a colossal idiot that she didn’t see the money- hungry vultures circling right in front of her nose. She got us all swindled into selling our town to the highest bidder.
My chest cracked open and all the pain and anguish and grief poured out. Every breath I dragged in smelled rotten. Every tear that fell from my eyes seared my cheeks, my hands, my thighs.
I’d kissed him. I’d loved him. I’d been so wrapped up in feeling fucking special that I hadn’t seen what he was doing to me. To my home.
When I was raw with the pain of it all, I lifted my head from the steering wheel and stared out at the empty lot. I couldn’t tell if I was crying or not, because my cheeks kept getting wet but the sobs had stopped.
And I couldn’t go home. I had no home.
So I drove to Abigail’s.
The windows were dark. She hadn’t come back yet. I had the key but as soon as I slipped it into the lock, I remembered she’d started using a new alarm system. I could only guess the code. And the last thing I needed was to be arrested for breaking into my friend’s house.
When I pulled out my phone, I noticed a dozen missed calls. Sebastian. A fresh ache sliced across my chest at the sight of his name on my screen. What could he possibly have to say to me? What explanation could he possibly give to justify his lies?
Ignoring the tight, dry clasp of my throat, I called Abigail but she didn’t answer. It just went straight to voicemail. So I tried again. And again. My hands shook. It felt like all my innards had been scooped out and splattered on the ground around me. I was stranded in the dark, wearing a wrecked rented dress, alone.
Where the hell was she? She had to be on her way. Someone must have been giving her a ride. Shivering, I pawed through Abigail’s trunk and found old gym clothes and a picnic blanket. I changed right there in front of her house and wrapped myself in the blanket.
I gripped the keys in my hand and shuffled in my heels to her perfectly painted porch swing. I curled up on the slatted surface and let the wind rock me back and forth.
Wrung out and too exhausted to sleep, I stared out at the rustling leaves on the tree in her front yard. I listened to the cicadas. I swung back and forth, back and forth.
As I lay on the swing, unsheltered and lonely, a deep ache took hold of me. Maybe I deserved it. Maybe this was how I’d always meant to end up. At the end of the day, I was just a sad little abandoned kid who begged for any scrap of love she could get.
No wonder I fell for Sebastian’s charm.