29. Oh. （in italics）
CHAPTER 29
OH. (IN ITALICS)
EMMA
W hen I tell Ivy I want to skip Pilates in favor of spending more time with Charlie, she laughs so loudly that I have to pull the phone away from my ear or risk rupturing an eardrum. Even he can’t help but chuckle.
I get my revenge by lightly scraping my nails along the sensitive spot at the back of his neck, turning his laugh into a groan that goes straight between my thighs.
Then I remember myself and pull my hand back.
Because what happens now? What would a friendship with Charlie even look like, especially after last night? I can’t stand the thought of us going back to being nothing to each other.
I want to know everything there is to know about him. I want to replace every wrong assumption I’ve had about him with the truth. Because he might not know it, but he unlocked something for me last night.
He gave me back a key that had long ago gone missing. Opened my eyes to all the reasons I enjoyed sex in the first place. And he’s right. It wasn’t about the finish line, but every step leading to it.
And he did it without asking for anything in return.
I’m tempted to press my burning cheek into the car window. Every time I think of last night, my pulse trips over itself. The sight of Charlie, wild, ravaged, undone, is forever seared into my memory, better than all the art money can buy.
It’s a shame I’ll never see it again.
The shelter is smaller than I pictured. Compact but using every inch of space efficiently.
It’s been a while since I’ve been this nervous to meet someone. Everything Charlie’s told me about Reese (which is more than I’ve dragged out of him about himself) assures me she’s friendly, but nothing prepares me for the blur of red hair that launches itself at me as soon as we walk in.
“Please, please, please tell me you’re Emma. I’ve got a bet to win.”
“That depends,” I say. “Do I get a cut of the winnings?”
Reese beams at her brother. “Oh, you are totally screwed.” Before I can even turn to gauge his reaction, Reese pulls me out of the foyer and into the back. At the end of the short hallway is a doctor’s room—vet room, I suppose—and to the left, where we end up, are the kennels. “Welcome to the circus,” she says. “I sure hope you like animals.”
Although her tone is light and playful, there’s no doubt this is an interview. It’s flattering that she wants to make sure I’m good enough for her brother. It’s obvious they care fiercely about each other. I’m overwhelmingly jealous, which is new.
“I do.”
“Good.” Reese crosses her arms over her Led Zeppelin shirt. It suits her. So do the well-loved leather boots, the wallet chain, the twenty-sided die pendant around her neck. “What was the length of your longest relationship?”
“A year.”
Her eyes are as shrewd as her brother’s. “With the ex that Charlie is helping you get back?”
Ah. So he’s told her about that.
“Yes.”
On the wall is a poster loudly proclaiming Happy Rex Manning Day! I’ll have to ask Charlie about the reference later.
“Drugs?” she asks.
“Caffeine, aspirin, wine.”
“Red or white?”
“Yes.”
Reese’s eyes light up. “Heads or tails?”
Keeping people on their toes runs in the family, I see. “Tails,” I say.
She nods slowly. This must be what it’s like to stand trial. “Why?”
“Tails don’t lie.”
“No, they don’t,” she crows. If her smile gets any wider, I’m worried she’ll burst, and then I’ll really be in trouble. “History or geography? We’re having a quiz night next week, and we need to round out the team.”
“Then you’re in luck, because I aced geography.” In all of five minutes, I know everything I need to know about Reese. She’s interesting and caring and is deeply protective of her brother.
I really don’t blame her.
“Now I have a question for you,” I say. “How long would you last in a zombie apocalypse?”
Reese gasps, and I’m tangled up in her arms again. “Charlie,” she calls out. “She’s the one.”
He appears as Reese and I are swapping numbers, but she quickly dismisses him with a task list.
“I didn’t come here to be bossed around, you know,” he says as a massive fluffball named Zeus tugs on the leash, dragging him toward the door.
“But you take orders so well,” I tease.
Reese chokes on a laugh, her eyes shining with glee, while Charlie trips over his own feet.
“Christ,” he murmurs, and then he’s gone, the back of his neck flushed pink.
“Ready to get to work?” Reese asks as she passes me a bag of dry cat food almost as big as I am.
I almost topple over adjusting it in my arms. Damn, I’m going to feel this tomorrow. So this is how Charlie burns off all that pie.
“Why do I get the feeling I’m still being tested?”
Reese smiles. “Don’t question the process, young grasshopper.”
While we work, I meet her partner, Mae, and they fill me in on how they came to open the shelter, newly graduated and hopeful. How community donations help them stay open. When they debate the most effective way to increase funds so they aren’t playing catch-up every month, I can’t help but interrupt.
“Feel free to say no,” I hedge. “But my mom has been hosting fundraisers my whole life. I’m sure she’d love to give you some advice, and probably some contacts.” Just as long as she keeps the checkbook at home.
“Holy shit, Emma. Yes. Are you serious?”
“Of course.” And maybe I’m hoping giving Mom something to do in the city will sell the idea of moving.
“Okay, I gotta ask. Have you ever gone swimming in money? Because I used to dream about dive-bombing a pool of coins, McDuck style.”
I know then and there that I like Reese. How could I not? Her no-nonsense approach is so similar to Ivy’s. “No, but I have gotten a twenty-four-carat facial and been massaged with crushed diamonds.”
“Fuck.” Reese sighs. “Being rich sounds amazing.”
“If it makes you feel better, I had a terrible eczema flare-up from it. I spent the next week hiding indoors and trying not to scratch.”
“That does make me feel better,” she says so genuinely I have to laugh.
“So Emma,” Mae starts, “know any bachelors that would pass inspection from a sixty-two-year-old lit professor, by chance?”
“Um…” I stall.
Reese, thankfully, saves me from having to answer. “Your cousin specifically asked us to stop setting her up.”
Mae frowns. “You already tried to set her up with Charlie!”
“That was before I knew how ridiculous he was about Emma,” Reese argues, pointing to me. The instant the words are out of her mouth, they both go wide-eyed and silent.
Awkward.
Reese winces and turns to me. “Please don’t tell him I said that.”
“It’s okay.” It’s not like it’s the truth. She’s just being nice.
Mae gets called back to the front, and while Reese and I finish up, she introduces me to every single animal, backstory and all. I can see why Charlie spends so much time here. There’s so much love, I feel like I have a contact high.
“Sorry about the interrogation, but we’ve been wanting to meet you for weeks. Charlie’s never brought anyone here before.”
My heart jumps. It’s such a silly thing, but I can’t help it. I’m special, in this at least. If nothing else happens between us, I’ll remain selfishly happy that I got to be the first. The only.
“Why did you want to become a vet?”
“All the coolest characters are cats and dogs, you know? Plus, as a kid, I thought having a pet was the thing all families did. We never had one ourselves, but once I set my mind to something,” Reese says. “I almost turned down my scholarship because it meant moving out here by myself. I just couldn’t stomach it. But then Charlie quit his job and packed up the car, and we drove for three days to get here.”
Another slice of Charlie clicks into place. There’s grit in him, a hearty surface shielding a soft, endearing center.
For so long, I saw Charlie as nothing but a smile in a suit, a climb-into-your-grave-while-it’s-still-hot kind of guy, not an ounce of care for anyone but himself. I’ve never been so glad to be wrong.
“I almost studied zoology,” Reese says. “But then I volunteered at a rescue center back home and immediately knew I wanted to open this place one day. It felt important.”
“Plus you’re great at it,” Charlie adds, flushed and a little out of breath as Zeus pulls him back inside. The whole room brightens when he’s in it, or maybe it’s me he’s lighting up.
I think I could always be happy just being near him.
“That too.” Reese beams.
Growing up, everything was easy.
Plans could be made at the drop of a hat. New phone announced? Buy it. Front row at a concert? Easy. Clothes, meals, trips? I never thought about the cost. Price tags meant nothing to a limitless budget.
What I don’t miss is the attitude. The elitism. The competition. I’ve seen grown men buy businesses and send them to ruin simply because someone else wanted them. Time and again, sons—and daughters—get away with illegal deals simply to impress their fathers.
The worst ones get defensive, but the best ones know how lucky we are, privileged to start life as close to the top as it is to get. Even if we work hard, there’s no denying how much shorter the journey is for us.
But. The perks.
Champagne on take-off (even at five a.m.).
Champagne while shopping at Celine in Zurich.
Champagne at… well, there’s a lot of champagne.
There are also beautiful clothes and private tours and exclusive parties.
But it never once felt as real or honest or lovely as watching Charlie play fetch with a Saint Bernard. I always thought him most in his element in the office, suited up and holding court with ease. That is, until I saw him like this.
Happy and unburdened. It’s breathtaking.
“You’re welcome, by the way,” I say, and Charlie looks up. “I think I saved you from a blind date.”
“They’re still on that? Ever since Lucy…” He shakes his head. “Anyway. I’m glad you came today. Reese was sure that this whole thing,” he gestures between us, “would blow up in my face.”
“Let me guess. You once broke a sorority queen’s heart, and your sister has been worried ever since.”
I’m eager to hear about Charlie’s prior love life. I could pretend it is harmless curiosity, but I know myself better than that.
Even worse, I’m jealous of the other me—the me Reese believes is dating her brother.
“Sorry to disappoint you,” he says, giving me a crooked grin.
“No? Just the rest of campus, then? The heartbroken women left in your wake must have started a club.”
“Actually,” he says, the tension in his voice catching my attention, “I never went to college,” he says.
My train of thought crashes. Charlie is one of the smartest people I’ve ever worked with, quick and clever on his feet, reactive in a way my brain can’t fathom.
“Whatever joke you want to make,” he says, his voice tight, “do it now, but I promise you, I’ve heard them all.”
My heart aches for him. “I don’t want to joke about it.”
He raises a skeptical brow. “You’d be the first.”
I don’t know what to tell him. That people are awful? Clearly, he’s aware. That he’s expecting me to use this against him proves that I have failed the both of us.
What happened last year is still a sore spot, but it’s healing slowly, and I would like to believe that we’re more than strangers. Charlie has given me the space to be vulnerable, and he deserves better than he’s gotten in the past.
The pain he buries under his smiles crushes me. I want to erase every trace, rewrite every wrong he’s lived through. Show him just how good he really is.
I stride over and place a gentle kiss on his cheek. “You’re worth so much more than what can be presented on a piece of paper, Charlie. Everyone in the company knows that.”
I’m only sorry it took me so long to see it.
It’s easy to lose track of time here. Whether it’s helping Reese hand feed a week-old Bengal or debating with Mae over which version of Sabrina is better (the costumes in the 1954 version are phenomenal, as is Audrey Hepburn; but the 1995 remake is eminently charming).
I don’t want the day to end, and I can’t take my eyes off him as he drives me home. He’s gorgeous, but he’s also so much more.
My heart knocks against my chest in deep, echoing thumps.
Charlie sees problems in a way I can’t and can ask me a question I’ve never considered and open my eyes to something new. He’ll clear the weeds away so I can find the answer and then look at me as though I’m brilliant for discovering it.
Sex might be off the table, but I can’t lose his friendship. I don’t want to give up his teasing smiles or clever quips.
I can’t lose the time we get every day in his car. Even when we don’t talk, it’s enough to simply know he’s there. Every time I sink into the worn leather, I get the urge to tell him to forget the office and suggest we take a new road and keep going. It wouldn’t matter where.
Ever since my life changed course, I’ve wondered what my future could look like.
When I look at Charlie now, I finally see that future looking back.