Chapter Four
When she walked into the refurbished Victorian Colleen used as office space the next morning, Charity took a physical breath to accompany her mental one.
Operation Ignore the Beast, as she’d taken to calling what was going to become her new work mantra, was in full swing as she crossed the threshold, a twenty-four-ounce cup of high test, caffeinated coffee in one hand for her and a smaller cup of decaf herbal tea for her boss in the other.
Befitting the warmth of the summer day, she’d dressed in a flirty swirl dress covered in purple peonies with white wedges on her feet. Her high ponytail–her typical office hair style–bounced and swayed in time to her jaunty steps.
Luckily, the outer office was quiet. A quick glance to the right showed her Kolby’s office door was open, the room empty.
Good. Really good.
Colleen’s office door to her left was open as well and she could hear her boss carrying on a one-sided conversation, so Charity assumed she was on her cell.
She walked to the opened doorway and, sure enough, her heavily pregnant employer was seated, her unshod feet elevated on the stool her husband insisted she use when sitting, her phone stuck to her ear.
Colleen waved Charity in while she continued speaking.
Without missing a beat, she placed the cup on Colleen’s desk and smiled when her boss mouthed a thank you.
At her own desk, she booted up her computer and opened the weekly schedule.
A quick perusal told her there were two new client appointments today, one in about an hour and another this afternoon. A quick swipe to the right and she called up the to-do lists she needed to get done for the next weekend’s wedding.
Colleen’s wedding planner business was busier than ever, mainly because of the number of New York society brides who were now flocking to her door.
Since she’d organized the Isabella Harrington wedding four years ago–and had subsequently become Izzy’s sister-in-law when she married the girl’s brother, Slade, in a whirlwind romance, Izzy’s friends had decided they, too, wanted to eschew the trappings of New York society weddings - boring and bland and identical as they all were – for the more intimate, delightful out-of-town experience.
Charity was happy for the work and just as thrilled as Colleen that business was booming.
And she was doubly glad that all those spoiled 20something brides, with daddy’s money paying for their happy day, opted to have their weddings in Heaven and not a tropical island that seemed to be all the rage for a minute and a half.
In fact, one of those weddings was coming up, and she set her to do list to remind her of all the phone calls she’d be making today.
Out of town, never mind out of country, weddings were rife with issues both before and during the event, and Charity was hell-bent on solving as many as possible pre-wedding.
As she printed out her list of phone calls and visits she needed to make, the venues she wanted to check up on to ensure all was moving smoothly, Colleen waddled from her office.
And waddled wasn’t a pejorative term. The woman was huge. Her first pregnancy had blessed her and her hubby with a set of beautiful twin girls. And now this second one, barely a year after the twins turned one, was another set. This time, boys.
Charity’s head spun, calculating the odds of that happening, naturally, and not with the use of fertility drugs.
Twins ran in the O’Dowd family, Colleen’s youngest sister a twin, so when she’d gotten pregnant, the expectation had been large.
But twice? In two pregnancies? Just the thought that Colleen would have 4 children under the age of 3 was enough for Charity to make sure her birth control prescription was up to date.
Not that she needed to be worried about a pregnancy now or any time in the foreseeable future.
Well, she had a tiny worry since she’d slept with Kolby, but her birth control had never failed her yet.
With no marriage prospects on her horizon, or even a potential date beating down her door, Charity was looking at another upcoming birthday without a significant other.
And it was an important birthday, too.
A life changing one.
One that pushed her to the other side of three decades from her present twenty-nine years.
“That was Liv Joyner,” Colleen said, her tea in her hand as she leaned a hip on the edge of Charity’s desk. “She was checking on everything for this weekend.”
“The Mayberry wedding?”
“Yes. Since she’s their matchmaker, she wanted to see if she could do anything, or help in any way with the ceremony or reception.”
“That’s sweet. She really cares about her clients.”
Nodding, Colleen said, “She does. Now.” She placed the cup down on the desk and leaned backward, her hands folding on top of her protruding belly. “Care to tell me what happened this weekend?”
The hair on the back of Charity’s neck stood at attention.
“What do you mean? Everything went great. Smoothly. No hiccups at all.”
Colleen’s left eyebrow did a little jig up her forehead until it touched her hairline. And just like that, Charity knew her boss knew.
Kolby, that rat bastard. He’d promised not to tell about their mistake. Obviously, his promises were as shallow as his morals.
“Really? Nothing you want to share with me? Nothing that happened? Unexpectedly?”
Charity swallowed. Colleen didn’t look mad that she and the photographer had slept together. But she did look something.
She bit down on her lip as her boss kept her stare.
This had been what she’d been dreading: Colleen’s disapproval.
Charity respected her employer above anyone else she’d ever worked for and always wanted to do a good job for her.
Act befitting the reputation the business had garnered over the years and add to it, not take away from it.
One stupid drunken act on her part and now she had to face the repercussions.
Just as she was about to vomit all that happened, at least what she remembered, Colleen held her off, asking, “None of the guests got a little too aggressive with you? A little handsy?”
It was comical the amount of relief that automatically spread through her body like lightning over stormy waters.
“Oh,” she said, sitting upright, the realization of Colleen’s questions now making themselves clear. “Oh, no. No, it was nothing. Really. I had it handled. Just a few drunken frat boys with roamin’ hands and rushin’ fingers. Nothing serious.”
Colleen speared her in half with a look that had her insides shaking.
“No, Charity. It wasn’t nothing. Kolby told me that one of them had you cornered outside the bathroom and was putting his hands all over you. Aggressively.”
Charity waved a hand in the air to underscore the non-severity of the issue. “I had it handled.”
“Yes. He told me that, too.”
“He did?” Shock laced every part of her body.
Colleen nodded. “I knew you’d studied karate, but I had no idea how advanced you were. I’m impressed. More than I’ve been about anything lately.” Her expression softened.
Charity sat up taller in her chair.
“Knowing you can hold your own against guys like that is great, but I still worry about you like a mother.” The knowledge that she was only a few years older than Charity must have filtered through because Colleen shook her head and amended, “Older sister.”
For the first time all morning, Charity smiled. “That’s the hormones talking. You’re filled with oxytocin and all kinds of endorphins right now that are contributing to your nesting behavior and have your maternal worry-ometer going hinky.”
Colleen narrowed her eyes as she looked down at her assistant. “Who are you? Dr. Spock?”
She smiled. “Look, Colleen, don’t worry about me.
I’ve been taking care of myself for a long, long time.
In all ways. It’s what my parents had in mind the moment they enrolled me in karate.
They wanted me to be equipped with physical tactics to protect myself should the need ever arise, and not just my mental and verbal skills. ”
“Which we all know are par excellance.“ She stressed the phrase with a decided theatrical accent.
Charity’s smile broadened. She was such a sucker for praise from her idol.
“But be that as it may,” Colleen said, righting herself and then taking a moment to make sure her feet were stable underneath her blossoming midsection. “I’m rethinking a few things before I go on maternity leave.”
The happiness of moments before wavered. “Rethinking things?”
Colleen nodded.
“What...what kinds of things?”
“Let me get it all straight in my head before I forget a few points I want to make, and then I’ll call you both in to discuss. My doctor told me yesterday he wants me off my feet ASAP, so I’m probably going out on leave today. Okay?”
Charity nodded, although she didn’t know what she was agreeing to.
What things were under consideration? Changes maybe, to how the office should run in her absence? Colleen prided herself that her business ran like a well-conditioned and seasoned racehorse, always up for a challenge and winning at all costs. So, what could it be?
Charity had a sinking suspicion it was going to be something she wouldn’t like.
Sure enough, not ten minutes later, when Kolby showed up, she found out.
He ambled into the office, his aviator shades covering his eyes, his typical refillable water jug in one hand. In the other, he held a case she knew housed the various lenses he used during a shoot.
He breezed right past her desk, never stopping to chat, or even glance her way.
Nothing was unusual about this behavior since he’d done the same thing every morning she'd been working with him. But today, she was doubly glad he’d ignored her on the way to his private sanctum.
He shut the door behind him, the latch closing with a loud snick.
A half second later, she heard the unmistakable sound of that case hitting the floor and his usual loud sigh as he plopped down behind his desk.