12. Chapter 12
Lorenz
L orenz repositioned the tie, resisting the urge to yank the damn thing loose altogether.
“Be grateful we weren’t forced into dress uniform,” Ry laughed, straightening the cuffs of his jacket. “Those jackets are torture devices.”
“Yvette wouldn’t do that to me,” Alex said. “I do wish she didn’t have to spend all evening with the mayor and his cronies.”
“You’re jealous,” Tristan said mildly.
Alex huffed. “Obviously I’m jealous.”
“What are we even doing here?” Lorenz grumbled.
“Free champagne,” Hugo offered. “Tiny appetizers. And the chance to see our women in cocktail dresses.”
“I don’t think that’s—“
The words died in Lorenz’s throat. Across the room stood a woman in a knee-length navy dress. She had her back to them, but he didn’t need to see her face to recognize her. It was enough to see the slope of her shoulders, the soft curve of her hips, those dark-blond curls falling down her back.
He’d threaded his fingers through that hair just—
What is she doing here?
Suddenly, she turned. Her eyes were on the doorway beyond. She still hadn’t noticed him.
The back of the dress was restrained, elegant. The front was something else entirely. The navy fabric crossed her chest in a clean, decisive line, revealing enough cleavage to make Lorenz’s pulse skyrocket.
“Lorenz?” Ry followed Lorenz’s line of sight. “Ah. Now I understand why you’ve been in such a terrible mood—”
“Don’t,” Lorenz said evenly. “That’s my ex-wife you’re talking about.”
“Your ex …” For once, even Ry seemed at a loss for words.
“Well,” Hugo said carefully.
“I thought she moved back to Florida six years ago. But she’s been here all along, in Sallanches. Teaching at a school.”
“Wow. That’s a lot to take in, man.”
A dark-haired woman in a deep burgundy dress joined Charlie. He’d seen her before; she worked at the school.
Seconds later, two men approached the women, smiling broadly. The taller one leaned in slightly as he spoke, his entire posture openly interested.
Lorenz’s jaw locked.
The sight of that man looking at Charlie like that made him want to punch him right in his smiling face. But he had no right to feel this way. Charlie was free to speak to whomever she wanted, and laugh with whomever she wanted.
“I should go,” he said abruptly.
“Because two guys are talking to her?” Hugo asked. His vaguely amused look pissed Lorenz off even more.
“Looks to me like you’re still interested,” Ry said. “Maybe you should go say hello. Maybe it’s your opportunity for a second chance.”
“There won’t be any second chances. I really messed up.”
“Whatever happened couldn’t have been that bad, Lorenz,” Ry said.
It was that bad.
Lorenz restrained himself from snapping at his friends. They had no idea what had happened between him and Charlie. They knew that he’d been married, but they didn’t know how spectacularly he’d destroyed it.
And Lorenz could come up with countless excuses for how it’d happened.
He’d been exhausted. He hadn’t been sleeping.
He hadn’t been thinking. Both he and Charlie, each in their own way, had been grieving the loss of their unborn baby.
He should never have opened his mouth, but he’d been so desperate to fix something that couldn’t be fixed. He’d never meant to hurt her.
Still, none of that excused what he’d said.
Four words .
Four stupid, unforgivable words.
Four words that had destroyed everything, driving the final crack through their already fragile marriage.
We’ll have other babies.
He’d seen the light die in Charlie’s eyes as he’d uttered the words.
Lorenz clenched his teeth hard. He’d regretted those words the instant they’d left his mouth, but there was no way back—no way to put a broken eggshell back together again.
“It was bad,” he said, and left it at that.
Across the room, one of the men bent at the waist to murmur something in Charlie’s ear.
Lorenz turned away.
“Come on, let’s get a drink.”
Charlie
“That man keeps staring at you, Charlie,” Carmen said, her expressive dark eyes signaling to the right.
Charlie raised her champagne glass to her lips and forced a casual glance behind them.
And there he was.
Lorenz .
It wasn’t a surprise. She’d known he would be, from the moment Sean had mentioned the event. Lorenz had only just started working at the PGHM when their marriage crumbled, but that had been years ago. This was his world now. His colleagues. His friends. Not hers.
She’d told herself it was fine, had almost believed it, but seeing him now across the crowded room sent a sharp twist through her chest. Because he was here, like he’d been in her bed days earlier, but he no longer belonged to her.
She took him in. He looked striking, in a dark suit that highlighted the breadth of his shoulders, his slim hips. She knew what those shoulders looked like under the jacket. She’d felt his strength just days earlier, when they’d—
No. Not going to think about that.
She tried to take a step back. What was it about this man that made him different from all other men? It wasn’t just his looks. It was something about him, something about the way he carried himself.
Tonight, he looked solid. Not comfortable—suits had never been his thing, and she couldn’t imagine that had changed—but solid.
Unaware of Charlie’s inner turmoil, Carmen laughed at something the two men in front of them said.
Charlie was having trouble following the conversation.
They were both lawyers working at the courthouse; she’d understood that much.
And single. They’d made that clear enough.
But Charlie couldn’t bring herself to be interested.
Eventually, the two men left to get themselves fresh drinks.
Carmen leaned in, dropping her voice to something conspiratorial. “This party is incredible. I’m so glad we came.” She squeezed Charlie’s arm. “I know you would have been happy sitting at home with one of those puzzles you love so much, but this is … so much better.”
Charlie smiled. She did have a new puzzle waiting for her at home, but it was good to see Carmen so happy.
“Charlie?” Carmen shifted, strangely fascinated. “Remember the man who kept staring at us? Are you sure you don’t know him? He’s walking in this direction.”
Charlie turned to see him moving through the crowd, broad-shouldered and purposeful, heading straight for her.
She exhaled softly. She should have told Carmen about him by now.
Better late than never .
“I do know him. That’s Lorenz van der Berg. My ex-husband.”
Carmen stammered, but recovered quickly. “That hottie’s your ex-husband?”
Charlie nodded. “I really don’t want to talk about it, Carmen.”
“He’s the one who—“
“Yes.”
As she watched, a tall man intercepted Lorenz, clapping him on the shoulder and launching into an animated conversation. Lorenz stood polite, attentive. But his gaze flicked to hers over the other man’s shoulder, just for a moment.
“I need some air,” she said.
“I’ll come with you,” Carmen said quickly.
“No. Stay, please. Those guys will be back with the drinks soon. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
Charlie slipped away before her friend could stop her—and before Lorenz could extricate himself from his interlocutor.
Cold air wrapped around her the moment she set foot outside. The balcony stretched the length of the building, empty save for a few potted evergreens set against the railing.
Beneath her, the lights of Chamonix scattered across the valley. Beyond the rooftops, the valley opened up between towering walls of snow-covered peaks. The jagged silhouette of the Aiguilles cut into the starlit sky.
She loved— loved —this valley. It was one of the reasons she’d never left, after the divorce. Not the only reason, but one of the reasons.
She gripped the metal railing with both hands, the cold of it biting into her palms, and breathed in the crisp alpine air.
A few minutes.
That was all she needed.
She heard the balcony door open behind her, but kept her gaze on the lights below. Footsteps came, unhurried. A moment later, the weight of a jacket settled over her shoulders—warm, and smelling faintly of him in a way that was entirely unfair. Nobody should smell that good.
The warmth seeped through the thin fabric of her dress, making her shiver in a way the cold hadn’t managed.
“You’re freezing,” he said quietly.
“I just needed a bit of fresh air.”
She pulled the jacket closer around her body.
Lorenz moved to stand beside her at the railing.
Even standing there in his shirt sleeves, she could feel the steady heat of him through the night air.
His body had always run hot, where hers ran cold.
It was one of those small things she’d forgotten she’d missed.
Inside, the party hummed faintly.
“Charlie—“
“I should go back inside,” she said. But she didn’t move.
Two men stepped out mid-conversation, stopping when they noticed them.
“Lorenz,” one of them said. “There you are.”
Commandant Beau Fontaine. She knew him from the day Théo had gone missing, remembered how calm he’d been when everything around them hadn’t.
His gaze moved to Charlie. To his credit he gave no visible reaction to the jacket draped over her shoulders, and surprised her by remembering her name.
“Ms. Brooks. It’s good to see you again.”
“ Commandant Fontaine.”
As Charlie extended her hand in greeting, the commandant turned to his companion, a shorter, rounder man who wore his suit with the ease of someone who’d been photographed in one regularly. Charlie placed him before the introduction came. She’d seen photos of him.
“Mayor Chevalier,” Lorenz said, “this is Charlie Brooks. Ms. Brooks is a teacher at one of the international schools in the valley.”
“A pleasure, Ms. Brooks. Kids are our most important resource. Our future,” the man said, pumping her hand with practiced warmth.
“Mr. Whittaker, our principal, is sorry he couldn’t be here tonight,” she said quickly. The years of parent-teacher evenings and school fundraisers hadn’t been entirely wasted on her.