Chapter Eighteen #3
“We’ve got weddings booked every Saturday and a few Friday nights until after Labor Day, so I need you both focused, professional, and even-tempered. Charity, is this guy you’re seeing going to be a problem moving forward?”
Since she wasn’t sure she was still seeing him, especially after his parting comment the night before, she didn’t know how to respond. After a moment, she simply said, “No. He won’t.”
“Good. As for you,” she pointed at Kolby and nailed him with a piercing stare, “We need to talk about a few things, so stick around. Charity, if you don’t have anything you need to discuss or tell me about, you can go enjoy your Sunday. Thank you for coming in on such short notice.”
With a nod, Charity looked askance at Kolby as she wondered what Colleen was going to talk to him about, and rose.
“Come give me a hug.” Colleen held her arms out.
Charity bent and slid her arms around her boss, the older woman leaning in close and whispering, “I will never let you go until you tell me you’re ready to fly on your own.”
Pulling back, tears bloomed again in the corners of Charity’s eyes. Colleen stretched and kissed her cheek. “Go home and take a nap. You look like you need it.”
Nodding again because she was afraid any words she tried to speak would sound like she was choking, Charity righted, nodded at Slade, who smiled at her, then left.
How she got home without the tears spilling was a miracle, but the moment she entered her apartment, she ran to her bedroom, flung herself, face-down on the bed, and let loose.
Shame, disappointment, and a whole passel of emotions she couldn’t even put a name to, but which concerned a certain photographer, twisted and churned in her head.
The headache she’d gone to bed with was growing back.
Not wanting to be incapacitated for the entire day she dragged herself into the bathroom, palmed a few headache tablets and downed a full glass of water.
After washing her face, she fell back into bed.
The pinging of her phone pulled her out of a deep, dreamless sleep. Disoriented, she grabbed it from the pocket of her dress.
Are you home?
Liv.
Oh, crap. She’d forgotten she was supposed to go to her office after she left Colleen’s.
Yes. Sorry. I forgot our meeting.
Come answer your door. I’m standing outside. We need to talk.
“And I know just what about.”
Charity dragged in a breath and swiped the sleep-drool off her chin.
“I’m so sorry,” she said the moment she opened the door.
The matchmaker tilted her head, her periwinkle blue eyes lasered on Charity’s face. She could only imagine what she looked like. Probably had a sheet mark slashed across one side of her face, eyes crusty with dried tears.
“Are you okay?” Liv’s voice, so like CarlieRae’s – minus the drawl and singsong cadence – hit Charity’s heart like a sledgehammer. With no will to stop them, the tears slid from her eyes and she shook her head.
Liv stepped into the apartment and pulled her into her arms. Charity went into them and clung.
How they wound up on her lumpy couch, Liv holding her like her mother always did, she had no memory of.
The soft, rhythmic rubbing of Liv’s fingertips up and down her arms was like a balm to her soul.
She closed her eyes and let the fragrance of Liv’s signature perfume – Estee Lauder’s Beautiful – invade her senses.
The scent, like Liv herself, was captivating, the subtle hints of flowers and sunshine making her dream of home and porch swings and sweet tea.
She had no idea how much time elapsed before the tears finally spent themselves. Charity pulled back and scrubbed her hands over her face to dry it.
“I-I’m sorry,” she said.
“For what? Crying?” Liv swept her hand in the air and tksed. “Never apologize for that, sweetie. Crying, my grandmother always says, is like dusting, only it’s your heart wiping away emotional detritus.”
A tiny smile lifted one corner of Charity’s mouth. “I like that. Your grandmother sounds a lot like my Granny Quinlan. Always quick with a saying that brings everything into perspective.”
Liv smiled. “Must be the age group,” she said. “Now.” She settled back on the sofa and tugged one of Charity’s hands into her own. “Talk to me. Tell me what happened yesterday with Tom.”
“Has he already called you?”
“Last night. I let him speak, and now I want you to tell me your side. Another one of my grandmother’s favorite sayings is that there are three sides to every situation. Yours, his, and then what really happened minus the emotions.”
Charity shook her head. “I swear, our Grannys could be sisters.”
Liv squeezed her hand. “Talk to me.”
For a solid hour, she did. Everything from her and Tom’s first date, the suggestion they sleep together, the way he acted with Kolby. All of it. And her feelings about his behavior.
“He’s a nice guy,” she admitted. “Witty and engaging. But,” she dropped her gaze, “I just don’t...feel... anything. You know?”
“Sexually.” Liv nodded.
Blushing at the almost-age-of-thirty when discussing sex was ridiculous. But her cheeks heated when Liv spoke the word and then added, “You don’t feel any desire for him when he kisses you?”
She shook her head and dropped her gaze to her lap, where her hands were now woven together. “I mean, it’s nice. He’s not a troll.” Liv laughed. “But." She shrugged.
“While it’s not the most important facet in a mate, desiring someone you’re thinking of committing to for a lifetime is important,” Liv said. “No one, man or woman, wants to feel sexually unfulfilled in a relationship.”
Charity’s mind zipped to how she’d felt when Kolby kissed her.
Desire was one thing, but he’d made her body react in a way it never had before.
She’d felt as if she was dancing with wet feet on top of a live electrical wire.
Forget sparks; it was more like the grand finale of a fourth of July fireworks display.
She’d never responded to any man the way she had to him - so quickly, so ardently, so...wantonly. Charity would have fallen into bed with him without a second thought, which was ludicrous considering she’d been so angry she already had.
Or thought she had.
She rubbed the pain growing at her temples.
“Tom, by the way,” Liv said, “Told me he wishes he hadn’t made that parting crack to you.”
“About not bothering to call him?”
“Yes. He said it in anger and because he was hurt. He felt you weren’t happy to see him.”
“Honestly, I wasn’t. We were working and I hate surprises. My first loyalty was to our bride and groom. He seemed mad I wouldn’t just drop everything, throw my arms around him and ride off into the sunset, dropping all my responsibilities. That’s just not cool.”
Liv nodded. “I agree. His behavior wasn’t the best it could have been. I think he felt a little threatened by Kolby, too.”
“Liv, Kolby would never do anything to hurt Tom. Even though Tom chest-bumped him a few times, Kolby kept himself in check.”
Liv’s head tilted again. “He did?”
With a quick swipe across her dripping nose, she said, “Kolby can be a pain in the ass – is a pain in the ass – but I know he wouldn’t have responded physically to Tom where he’d hurt him.
Maybe he would have restrained him if a punch had been thrown, but I know in my bones he wouldn’t have hurt him.
Besides, he knows I can take care of myself.
If anyone would have gotten physical, it would have been me.
And only after all other avenues would have been exhausted. ”
“Tom told me he was embarrassed he’d acted that way. Claims he doesn’t know what got into him.”
“It was a red flag for me, for sure. I mean, every other time we’ve been together he’s been, well, normal. Calm. Last night was so different, though.”
That head tilt again.
“And as far as Kolby is concerned, he was just underscoring what I was saying to Tom. That we needed to work and I couldn’t just up and leave.”
“You’re quick to defend him, you know,” she said after a moment.
“Kolby? It’s because I know him, know the kind of guy he is.” She lifted a shoulder.
Or she thought she had. She’d never suspected he’d lied to her about their night-that-never-should-have-happened.
And a lie of omission was still a lie in her mind.
But the reason he’d given rang true. Things had been better between them.
More than better. They’d become friends, something she never anticipated before that fateful night.
Kolby was the first male friend she’d ever had, and it was eye-opening how easily their friendship had developed once she’d stopped judging him on his hound-doggish ways and behavior.
Behavior, she mused, that seemed to disappear once they were getting along.
Or maybe he’d just gotten good at hiding it from her.
No, that didn’t ring true because most of the time he was with her or, lately, his mother.
Had his behavior changed? Could someone like him change? Leopards and spots, CarlieRae would have said. But in the next breath she’d contend that everyone has the capacity to change for the better if they put their mind and heart to it.
Had Kolby?
“You’ve known Kolby a long time,” Liv said. “Worked together. Closely.”
The way she said it had Charity’s eyes pulling at the corners.
“Y-yes. I guess we have.”
The air around them stilled as Liv continued to regard her with a questioning expression.
“It’s inevitable,” Charity said, the silence prickling her nerves. “We’re together almost every weekend because every weekend we have a wedding to work. There’s a lot of preparation and meetings and things that need to be addressed before and after each event.”
Liv nodded again. “You spend a great deal of time together.”
“Yeah.” She blew out a breath. “We do.”
“And you’re friends?”
“Until recently we were mortal enemies,” she murmured.
With a laugh, Liv said, “Colleen has told me the two of you are harder to handle sometimes than her twins.”
“She’s not wrong.”
“So something has changed between the two of you? Recently?”
Not wanting to get into the details of why it had, she simply said, “Yeah.”
Liv could have been CarlieRae’s clone in the soul-seeking looks department. Charity squirmed under her inquiring gaze. Kind and thoughtful though it was, Charity felt like she was being magnified and inspected under a microscope.
“Maybe...more than friends?” she asked.
Charity’s cheeks heated again. “It’s...complicated.”
“A phrase every single female has uttered at one time in her life,” Liv said. “Sometimes, we can’t, or more - we don’t allow ourselves – to see what’s right in front of us.”
“I don’t understand?”
Nodding, Liv stood. “You will. For now, I’ll call Tom and tell him I think the two of you, although well suited on paper, don’t fit well in person. You’re a little too different from what the other is looking for.”
Charity bit down on her bottom lip. “Do you think he’ll be, I don’t know? Mad? Or hurt?”
“Disappointed more than anything,” she said. “He really likes you. Likes being with you.”
“Up until last night, I thought I did, too.”
“Interesting way to phrase it.” She grabbed her bag from the floor. “Anyway. I always have a Plan B, so he won’t be pining for you for long.”
“Do you have one for me?” she asked before she could stop herself.
“Do you want me to?”
“Well—”
“Or do you want to see how things play out for a bit?”
The confusion spread. “Play out with what?”
Liv smiled and pulled her into a hug. “My grandmother has another expression she digs up from time to time that’s really very trite, but also true.” She pulled back and, holding Charity at arm’s length, said, “Sometimes, we can’t see the forest for the trees.”
Squinting, Charity shook her head, that headache banging at the door to her skull again. “I really don’t understand that,” she said with a sigh.
“Like I said, you’ll figure it out in time. Take something for that headache,” she said from the doorway.
“It’s that obvious?” Charity rubbed a hand on her temple.
“I know the signs. Take a nap, too."
“I already did.”
“Take another one. It’s Sunday, sweetie. You can nap and no one will be the wiser.” She kissed Charity’s cheek and said, “I’ll be in touch.”
Charity closed the door behind her and rubbed her temples again with the pads of her fingers. The pain in her head, though subtle, was persistent. Maybe that was why she couldn’t decipher the cryptic messages Liv had tossed her way.
What would she figure out? And about what? Or...who?
Too many questions and she had no desire or mental strength to answer them right now.
She poured a full glass of water, drank half of it then carried the rest to her bathroom. Palming two more pain pills, she first shut the bedroom blinds, followed by the curtains, then downed the pills with the water. Done, she slid under the covers and let her mind drift.
The last conscious image she had was of Kolby.