1211 P.M.
CHARLOTTE
Charlotte was in the wrong part of the yacht—clearly meant for staff only, and her mind immediately flashed to passing by the laundry room at the St. Regis.
The desperation she felt that night was nothing compared to now.
She’d taken a tiny spiral staircase with utilitarian gray walls so she could avoid the other guests on the way to her room.
Every bit of emotion—the horrible shock, the anger, fear, and deep regret—that she had tried to hide during her conversation with Antonia had come spilling out the moment she was alone.
Just get to your room. You can stay there until this awful trip is over.
She could fake a migraine, or better yet, a stomach bug.
That would keep Ted from trying to sneak in.
Charlotte hurried along the narrow hallway past the laundry room, the kitchen, and the engine room.
She glanced through the open door of the engine room, only to lock eyes with Oliver, who was working on some big machine.
He was in a t-shirt and some shorts and looked sweaty and tired.
His expression went from pleasantly surprised to worried in an instant, and Charlotte carried on, hoping he was too busy to talk.
But a second later she felt his hand on her bare shoulder.
“Whoa, whoa! Charlotte, what’s wrong?”
Swiping her cheeks of the tears, she turned around and tried to look nonchalant. “Nothing. I…I’m a little lost. I got all turned around on the way back to my room.”
Oliver narrowed his eyes at her answer. “No. I’m not buying it. What happened?”
Suddenly desperate to have someone to talk to, she glanced around to make sure they were alone, then whispered, “She found out.”
“Oh shit. Come on.” Taking her hand, he led her into the engine room and shut the door. “I won’t ask if you’re okay, because clearly you’re not. Did she fire you?”
She shook her head. “No, she was…nice about it.” Her voice cracked, as the memory of Antonia’s hand on hers came to mind.
You’re as much a victim as me. “I don’t know what to do.
Ted doesn’t know that she knows and she’s making all sorts of moves to protect herself—and me—from the fallout.
She was talking about Monica Lewinsky and the media and oh my God, I can’t become the next Monica Lewinsky.
The world hated her. She was a joke. But Antonia said they were pinning the blame on the wrong person and really the pathetic middle-aged man who used his power to seduce her is the one who should be the joke.
And she’s right,” Charlotte said, nodding.
“She’s right about that. But then she said just because that was the way it should go doesn’t mean that’s the way it would go, and the wrong person would probably take the blame this time too.
” She took a shaky breath, then went on.
“I don’t know what to do. She wants me to pretend everything is fine, and to not…
be alone with Ted again. She said I can’t tell him anything either because she’s trying to save us both from this.
I don’t know if I can believe her. I mean, how can she not be furious with me?
I knew better. I’m not some naive teenager.
I knew what I was doing. And I’ve been lying to her and betraying her for months.
I don’t think I can trust her.” She looked into Oliver’s eyes.
They were so filled with concern that it made her keep talking, even though she knew she probably shouldn’t.
“What should I do? Would you trust her?” The walkie-talkie sitting on the toolbox at his feet crackled, then the captain’s voice sounded.
“Oliver, it’s getting quite warm up here. What’s happening with the AC?”
Oliver reached down and spoke into the radio. “I’m still working on it, but it’s not looking good.” He returned his attention to her. “I absolutely would not trust her, but I’d trust him even less.”
She nodded quickly. “Yeah, that makes sense. Only…she offered to pay for a lawyer for me. She said I can choose the person myself because I need to be protected. Would she really say that if she didn’t care about me?”
“I don’t know. That seems too good to be true, doesn’t it?”
Wrapping her arms around her chest, she tried to fight off the feeling of being utterly overwhelmed.
“It does. But it also tracks. I mean, it’s not just an affair.
They’ve built their professional reputation on having a perfect marriage, but it’s all a sham.
She can’t afford to have that getting out. She’ll look like a fraud.”
He gave her a skeptical look. “Why would she look like the fraud? He’s the one cheating.”
“Because she’s supposed to be this expert on marriage and reading people, and yet, she missed all the signs herself.
It would be beyond humiliating,” Charlotte told him.
Tears filled her eyes again. “Oh my God, I feel so bad. I didn’t think about that side of things.
I just…thought she was kind of a bitch and he deserved someone who was nice to him.
Because he’s really good to me, you know? ”
“Is he?” Oliver asked. “If he were really good to you, would he keep you as a side piece?”
His words were a blow to her ego, and she shook her head to deflect them away from her. “It’s not…”
“Not what? Not like that?” he asked, wrinkling up his nose. “Come on, Charlotte. Every married man looking to cheat says the other woman is different. Special. The only one who understands him.”
“Oh shit,” she whispered, knowing he was right. “I’m such a moron. Why did I let myself get caught up in this?”
“You’re not a moron. But yeah, it would be good to figure that out so you don’t do it again.”
“Obviously,” she snapped at him.
“Sorry, that’s not helpful right now.”
“It’s fine. Well, it’s not but…I just need to be alone so I can think.”
“Okay, I’ll help you get back to your room,” he told her, opening the door and poking his head out. “It’s all clear. Let’s go.”