Chapter 15
When Preston and Coco got home from the bakery, they looked beat. They dragged their feet through the door, weary and tired. Dark circles hung under their eyes.
Thankfully, tomorrow was Sunday, and Betsie had agreed to work all day, including open. Finally, they could have a day of rest.
“How was business today?” Since they got home so late, and because she expected Westley, Charlotte cooked a surprise dinner. Warm pumpkin soup and fresh bread. And apple enchiladas for dessert.
“Great! I finally feel like we’re in the clear.” Coco settled into a chair at the countertop.
“That must feel nice.” Charlotte slipped the apple enchiladas into the double oven, smelling the sweet mixture of cinnamon and sugar.
“It does.” Coco heaved a sigh. She glanced up to the beams embedded in the ceiling. “Now if we could just get this place to be registered on the historical buildings, we can open a venue here and offer historical tours.”
“We’ll find out Tuesday.” Preston crossed his fingers.
“I’m nervous.” Charlotte slid the bread into the second oven.
Preston took a swipe at the candy corns sitting on the countertop in a crystal dish and dumped a couple into his mouth. “If we don’t win, I will finish the renovations and put the house on the market in the spring.”
Charlotte stirred the soup. The aroma of nutmeg and spices, even the slices of apple she added, rose to her nose. This was fall comfort food at its best. The fresh bread in the oven emitted a crusty smell.
“That bread smells amazing.”
“I got your aunt Deb’s recipe.” She set the spoon aside. “Guess who came into town?”
“Who?” Preston leaned closer, folding his arms over the countertop.
Charlotte flashed up her eyebrows, unsure if they’d be happy or angry. “Westley.”
Shaking her head, Coco frowned. “I’ve heard enough about him breaking your heart. Tell him you’re done with him. Send him back to Toronto.”
“He apologized.”
“Is that enough?”
Charlotte frowned and turned her back on Coco to check on the enchiladas in the second oven. “Well, I hope you don’t mind. He’s coming for dinner.”
Both Preston and Coco stared, open mouthed. “You invited him to dinner?”
“He drove all the way down here. He says he wants to pick up where we left off three weeks ago.”
“And how do you feel about that?” Preston leaned closer.
She wanted to disappear under his intense gaze.
After wiping her hands on a dishtowel over her shoulder, Charlotte stirred the pot again. She wasn’t sure. All her hopes and dreams involved him. Giving that up would be…giving up on her goals. “He says he can get me back into school. Maybe even at the semester break. I wouldn’t have to take a full year of deferment.”
“Did he sell his soul to do it?” Preston stuck a spoon into the soup and licked it.
Jutting up her chin, Charlotte glared at Preston. “He’s not a bad guy.”
“Just abrupt and rude.” Preston rinsed the spoon in the sink.
“Say all the mean things now.” Charlotte tossed her dish towel at Preston. “He’ll be here at eight.”
Coco nodded. “If that’s what you want.”
Charlotte didn’t know what she wanted. She hadn’t heard from Eric all day.
And what did Jules want? Why was his spirit still lingering around the house? Too many things swirled in her head; she almost forgot about the bread. She hurried and pulled it from the oven.
Coco washed up and helped set the table.
The doorbell rang.
Charlotte glanced at the time. Eight on the nose. Westley was always punctual. Untying her apron, she unhitched it from her neck and hung it on the peg. She ran across the salon to open the front door.
Westley stood on the front door, holding a fistful of flowers. “These are for you.”
A combination of fall floral scents filled her nose—yellow, orange, and red Gerbera daisies. “Oh, thank you.” She opened the door wider. “Come in.”
Stepping in, he followed her to the dining room where Coco and Preston waited, standing behind chairs.
After putting the flowers in water, Charlotte brought in the soup in a tureen. Coco jumped to help her wrap the bread in a white cloth and place it on the table. Last came Charlotte with a salad and dressing.
Holding onto the back of his chair, Preston eyed Westley, standing across from him at the table. “So, tell us about yourself. Charlotte has been pretty close-lipped on her latest conquest.”
With a sly smile, Westley didn’t even skip a beat. “I serve as a lawyer for the Attorney General’s office in Toronto.”
“And how did you meet my sister?”
“At work.” Westley flashed Charlotte the wide grin that had stolen her heart. “She had an internship at our firm. She performed very well, I might add.”
“How long have you been seeing each other?” Preston had a glare that could take bark off trees.
Charlotte rolled her eyes. “You sound like a police officer.”
“No. It’s okay. It’s cute he’s so protective of his sister.” Westley grinned. “We met last year just as we were about to break for Christmas.”
Preston didn’t seem too amused at the cute label.
“Let’s eat, shall we?” Charlotte grabbed her chair and sat.
“I didn’t know you had a boyfriend during Christmas,” Coco whispered.
Charlotte’s face flamed. “I tried to keep it a secret from Papa Roland. You know how he is.”
“Indeed.” Coco skipped around the table to sit with Preston.
They bowed and said grace. Preston sliced the fresh bread while Coco ladled soup for each person.
Charlotte eyed the couple across from her.
Preston served Coco with a piece of bread with the greatest tenderness and respect. She wanted that kind of partner—happy, supportive, hard-working. That sounded more like Eric.
She studied Westley, waiting to be served.
But she also wanted to do big things in the world, and only Westley could take her there.
They spent the whole dinner in awkward silence, slurping soup and munching crusty bread.
Charlotte wanted to flee.
After dessert, Coco and Preston offered to clean up.
Charlotte led Westley into the library. “Wanna hear a crazy story?”
“Sure.”
She glanced up to the yellow stained-glass chandeliers hanging in the center of the room. “This house is haunted. I saw a ghost in this room.”
Westley didn’t bat an eye. “You know, ghosts are just a figment of our imagination, right? I read a whole paper about how people hallucinate to bring about some repressed desire.”
Charlotte stopped in front of a ladder. “But I saw him. His name is Jules.” He didn’t believe her? “He’s communicating an important message to me.”
Westley shook his head. “You’ve been under a lot of stress and pressure lately.”
“No, really. He’s left me messages. He’s a relative. He led me to a book—”
“It’s all in your head, sweet.” He grabbed her and kissed her forehead. Glancing toward the entrance to the library, back to where Coco and Preston cleaned the dishes, he took her hand and led her deeper into the library. “I’m actually glad we were left alone for these few precious moments.” He tugged his collar and stammered his words. “I, uh, wanted to speak to you tonight.” Westley, for the first time Charlotte had seen, trembled and fumbled for words. Even in front of judges and rulers, he was as cool as crisp celery.
“Oh?” Did he want to rehash all the reasons he erred for letting her go? Bring it.
Westley wiped sweat from his brow. “You said you wanted proof of permanent change. I thought of how to prove I want you back.” He sank to one knee, pulling something from his suit pocket. He propped open a little black velvet box.
Charlotte gasped. Inside, a stunning, full-carat diamond solitaire sat on a pillowy white cushion. She opened her mouth. “I—”
The doorbell rang.
She glanced to the door. What an inopportune moment for a visitor!
“I’ll get it,” called Coco from the other room.
“Well?” Westley looked up at her with hopeful eyes, undeterred by the interruption. He grabbed her hand.
Charlotte couldn’t think. Her head throbbed. “We broke up. You found someone else. You didn’t want me—”
With a dishtowel over her shoulder, Coco crossed the marble black and white foyer and opened the door. “Eric! What a pleasant surprise!”
Charlotte’s core lit on fire. She tried to pull her hand from Westley’s grip, but he held it like a vice.
“Is Charlotte in?”
“Yes. Come in.”
Charlotte glanced over to where Coco flashed her a strange expression of surprise.
Eric came around the door into view. “Charlotte I…” His eyes widened. His gaze shot all over Westley kneeling in front of her, holding her hand. And the ring.
Westley jumped up and tucked away the box, but it was too late.
Eric stared.
“Sorry,” Coco mouthed behind Eric.
“Um, Eric, I can explain.” Charlotte stepped forward, but Eric had already turned and headed out the door.
Seeing Charlotte being proposed to by another man, Eric did an about-face and went through the doorway before Coco had a chance to close it.
With a whoosh, he slammed it behind him. The cool air stung his lungs.
He was halfway down the front brick walk, nearly stumbling over a pumpkin and a mum, when the door opened behind him.
“Eric!”
He knew her voice, but hearing it just made his stomach churn. All evening he’d been looking forward to coming over here, seeing her, kissing her again. It made the conversation with James bearable—the one bright spot in an otherwise horrible day. And now, he couldn’t even face her.
About ten feet from his truck, he felt a tug on his arm.
“Don’t leave.”
Eric stopped, but he didn’t turn around. He glanced up into the starlit sky, smelling the damp fall leaves.
“What you saw is not what you think.”
Shaking his head, he yanked his keys from his pocket and unlocked the door. Turning, he faced her for the first time, heart thundering in his chest. “A man wasn’t proposing to you?”
“Yes, but—”
He shook her free. “Then it was what I thought.” He opened the door.
“But I wasn’t—”
He climbed onto the running board and faced her. “Charlotte, men don’t propose unless they are one-hundred percent sure a girl will say yes.” Ducking into the cab, he slammed the door.
Starting the engine drowned out any other words she said, if she said them. The smell of his truck painfully reminded him of their time in the back, each caress and kiss.
Horror rankled his heart as he drove away from the house. How could she do this? Was that Westley? What was he doing here? Didn’t she say she was over him? How did Eric think he was worthy of her? Did she encourage Westley to propose? Eric’s kiss meant nothing to her. What did she say to him? Even worse, did she accept his proposal? His mind raced as he gunned the engine, defying the speed limits.
He couldn’t drive fast enough. His head ached. A spot behind his eyes stung. Today was turning out to be the worst day of his life. He couldn’t go home. He didn’t know where to go. Letting his truck have its own mind, he followed the hilly roads out of town, through the darkened tree tunnels. How could she betray him so quickly? So much betrayal in one day.