by Avery James
"So you are having a baby," Caroline said, cutting him off before he could actually say what the news was.
Jack scowled and squeezed Charlotte's hand. "No, we're getting married, and we're moving up the date."
"We are?" Charlotte whispered.
"We're getting married in one month. I don't want to turn this into a circus. We've already picked the venue. It's in DC. We didn't say anything last night because we didn't want to steal Mom's thunder." He turned to his mother. "I hope you don't mind, but I've already invited Greta and the rest of the gang."
"You told the help before you told us?" Caroline said.
"I'm going to forget you said that," Jack said. He placed his hand on the table and leaned forward, like he was getting ready to leap across if Caroline said one more thing.
After seeing how relaxed he had been talking with Greta, Charlotte couldn't help but notice how tense Jack was with his family. He stared across the table as Caroline stared back at him.
Finally, he stood up. "I have an emergency meeting in DC this afternoon. I'm afraid we'll have to head out as soon as possible in order to make it in time."
"Nonsense," Angela said. "Just take the jet. You can stay for the rest of the morning, and we'll have someone drive your car down later this week."
"You know my stance on the jet," Jack said.
"If you think for a second that you're making some statement by flying commercial, you're dead wrong," Caroline said. "Daddy bought the jet for a reason."
"He bought the jet because he was self-indulgent and wasteful," Jack said.
"John Andrew Coburn!" Angela exclaimed. "I will not have you speak like that in this house."
Jack looked down at his feet. "I'm sorry, Mom."
Charlotte watched him clench his fists behind his back.
"We really have to go," he said.
"Jack," Angela started, but Jack was already turning away.
"Let him go," Caroline said.
Charlotte followed Jack's lead as he left the breakfast table and walked up the stairs to his bedroom.
"Jack, what's going on?" she asked.
"One month," he said. "It will work better for everyone this way."
"You didn't think I should be included in a decision like this?"
Jack didn't turn back at her immediately, too busy stuffing his suitcase in preparation to leave.
"Jack," Charlotte said, "I know I said we could do whatever you wanted to do, but please don't surprise me like that. I wanted from the beginning to be partners, remember?"
He finally paused and looked back at her.
"I remember," he said. "Do you not want to get married so soon?"
As he asked, she realized that she wanted to get married to Jack as quickly as she could. She moved in to hug him, resting her head against his chest.
"I'm starting to think, despite the contract and all that talk about love, you want to marry me as much as I want to marry you, Jack Coburn."
"Come on, Charlotte," he said. He ran his fingers through her hair as he stroked her head. "We have to get going if we're going to make it in time. We've got a wedding to plan."
Chapter 20
Charlotte drifted off in thought as she watched the way the bright midday sun illuminated the dust hanging in the air of the flower shop, giving a certain weight to the air itself. The day had been unseasonably warm and bright for December in DC, and Charlotte desperately wanted to head outside and forget about wedding plans for a while.
After everything she had been through with Jack over the past few months, she just didn't know if she could go through with a fake marriage. There was too much between them, and she feared that if she settled for their original agreement, she might never find out what she and Jack could truly have together.
An unfamiliar voice interrupted her thoughts.
"Have you reached a decision?" the shop owner asked.
Charlotte turned to face the florist, a balding old man with a warm smile. In truth, she had no opinion of the flowers, because she hadn't really been able to think about them.
Over the past several hours, Callie Haven had already ushered her through a half dozen flower shops, and Charlotte couldn't distinguish any of them in her memory, all she could recall was an endless stream of unearthly flowers, bursting with color and life. They reminded her of birds taking flight.
It wasn't the flowers or the venue or the fact that the wedding was only weeks away and they still hadn't invited anyone. She didn't care about that. The real worry was that playing the role of Jack's wife wouldn't be enough. Charlotte wanted to be something more than the bump in the polls that got Jack elected. Their few shared moments of intimacy were spectacular, but she wanted to know he needed her and that she could rely on him. She didn't want to spend several months of an arranged marriage figuring out if he wanted the same thing.
Charlotte looked at the flower arrangements one more time. She had seen so many arrangements and bouquets that she felt like she needed to lie down.
Jack, or at least someone working for him, was taking care of all the other aspects of the wedding except for the floral arrangements and Charlotte's dress. All she had to do was pick a florist and be done with it, but she couldn't even do that.
Charlotte tried to focus on the flowers. The arrangement before her looked like a landscape of daisies and baby's breath. Charlotte hadn't even picked the florists herself. Callie had given her a list of suggestions and called on her behalf.
None of that changed the fact that Charlotte was overwhelmed, completely, utterly out of her depth, and it had nothing to do with flowers. Charlotte threw her hands up in frustration.
"I don't know," she exclaimed. "They're all perfect and beautiful. Maybe if I had more than seventy two hours to decide, I could figure out which ones I wanted. Do I want calla lilies? Do I want begonias in the centerpieces? I wish I had an answer, but I don't. I just don't."
Callie turned to the florist. "Would you mind if we had a minute alone to talk things over, Maury?"
"Of course," the old man replied. "Whatever you need, Ms. Haven. I'll go check the stock out back. Let me know if you have any other questions."
Callie pulled Charlotte aside. "Is everything alright? This isn't about the flowers, is it?"
"I don't know if I can go through with this," Charlotte admitted.
Callie tensed up and stared at her. "Why? What did he do?"
Charlotte shook her head and ran her fingers through her hair. "He didn't do anything. He's been wonderful, but that's the problem. I like him. He's wonderful."
"How is that a problem?"
"Because I want this to be real," Charlotte replied. "I want to stop pretending to love him so I can actually love him."
"Do you like him or do you love him?" Callie asked.
"I don't know. I think I might love him," Charlotte said. "It's just so hard to know what's real and what isn't, and I feel like I'm being pulled in a hundred different directions at once, and all I want is a chance to step back and figure out what the hell is going on."
"Take a breath," Callie said. She pulled Charlotte in for a hug.
"What am I supposed to do?" Charlotte asked. Callie's hand rubbing over her back made her feel a little better, but she was trying not to have her voice break.
"Well, you're supposed to marry him," Callie said with a smile, "but what do you want?"
"I want this to be real."
"Then make it real. Tell him how you feel."
"And what happens if he doesn't feel the same way? What happens if he does feel the same way, but he's too afraid to admit it? He's opened up to me, Callie. He trusts me, at least a little, and I feel like if I push him too hard, I'll lose that. I don't know if I can lose that. He needs me, and I'm starting to think I need him too."
"These are all good questions, but before we can answer them, we need to choose the flowers," Callie said. She pulled back and gave Charlotte an empathetic smile.
Charlotte couldn't he
lp but laugh. She looked at the arrangements one more time. They were elaborate, beautiful and undoubtedly expensive, and if it were just her wedding and not some spectacle for Jack, she would have gone with something much less… Off to one side, Charlotte noticed a simple bouquet of small white flowers sticking out of a mason jar.
"What do you think of those?" she asked Callie. She pointed past the oversized arrangements.
"They're simple," Callie said. "I'm not entirely sure they're one of the options."
"I like simple."
"Then you're falling in love with the wrong guy."
"I don't mean to be bitchy, but I can only argue about the decor or my love life right now," Charlotte said.
"They're beautiful and tasteful, and I'm sure Jack will think they're great. This is your wedding, and if you want simple arrangements, you should have them. Just tell Jack how you feel. To be clear, for that last point, I'm talking love life, not flowers," Callie said.
"Good," Charlotte said. "I've reached a decision. I'm going to tell him how I feel."
"Do you want me to drop a few hints to him about this? I could have Logan nudge him in the right direction. You know how close they are."
"No," Charlotte said, "absolutely not. This is my doing. I fell for him, and if I want this to be more than an arrangement, I need to take care of this myself. I just need to figure out the right way."
"Speaking of arrangements," Callie said, she nodded toward the back of the shop as the florist reemerged.
The old man smiled and clapped his hands together. He looked to Callie.
"Have we reached a decision?"
"Can you tell me about these flowers?" Charlotte asked. She grabbed the jar and held it up for him.
"Oh," the florist said. "I just put those out for me. Sometimes I like to remind myself that beauty doesn't always have to be so complicated."
Charlotte nodded. More than anything, she wished things could be simpler with Jack. She stared at the flowers a while longer and gathered her courage to tell Jack how she felt. She was going to do everything within her power to make their marriage real.
"Have we made a decision then?" the old man asked.
"I have," Charlotte said. "I just hope it's the right one."
***
Charlotte spent the rest of the day pacing back and forth inside the house. It was still strange to think of it as her house now and not just Jack's. Over the past month, the place had really started to feel like home.
Charlotte could barely remember what it felt like to live in a small, two-bedroom apartment that was smaller than Jack's master suite. She had gotten used to the deep soaking tub and the radiant heat in the bathroom. She had grown accustomed to the large rooms with tall ceilings and perfectly chosen — if slightly masculine — decor. She wondered if she could explain to him how she felt at home with now. She tried to find the words.
She practiced over and over again how she'd greet Jack and tell him she needed to talk. It didn't have to be hard. She could pour him a drink and flop down with him on the couch, and she could just tell him. He'd understand. He'd probably thank her. After all, hadn't he been the one to kiss her and to take their relationship from playful flirting to something more? Charlotte thought back to their morning walk on the Cape. He wouldn't have opened up to her like that if he didn't want more than just a good time.She went to the master bath and practiced her words in the mirror.
"Jack," she said to her reflection, "there's something I want to talk about."
Each time she said it, she looked over her shoulder to make sure he wasn't coming through the door. As soon as she was sure she was alone, she'd continue.
"I know this started out as a mutually beneficial arrangement, but I don't know if I can settle for the original terms of the contract."
No matter how many times she tried to find the right phrase, it never came out right. She wondered if she should call Callie and ask her for help with the phrasing, but Charlotte knew she had to do this herself.
As the hours wore on, and the windows and skylights grew dark with night, Charlotte's resolve diminished. She wondered if she should even say anything at all.
Jack hadn't picked her, after all. He had been handed her by Callie and Amy. He hadn't seemed too thrilled about the idea, and he had done everything in his power to drive her away from the start, professing his mistrust of love and contempt for marriage. Maybe he was just so good to her because he felt bad or because he was just a decent guy.
Now she wanted to tell him she had feelings for him and wanted their marriage to mean something? She felt the tightness building in her chest and wished he'd get home soon enough for her to blurt it all out and move on.
She left the bathroom and paced back and forth in the bedroom. She paced in the hallway. She decided maybe she should make herself some tea or fix a drink to take her mind off Jack for a little while.
As she made her way to the kitchen, she heard the front door click open. She froze for a second and listened to the sharp sound of Jack's expensive shoes against the marble floor of the entry way.
"Charlotte?" he called out. "You home?"
Charlotte leaned out and waved to him.
Jack lit up.
"I've been waiting all day to see that face," he said.
"I've been waiting to see you too," she replied. "I was just going to get a drink. Would you like something?"
Jack walked over and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "You really are a sight for sore eyes."
"You're not so bad looking yourself." Charlotte smiled as he kissed her again. Everything felt so natural with him, so right.
Jack grinned. "It's my personality that sends people running for the hills." He wrapped his arms around her and gave her another quick kiss. He pressed his lips against hers and pulled them away before she could react, teasing her. Charlotte felt positively dazed. Jack dropped his briefcase to the ground behind her.
This was the moment. All she had to do was tell him she had feelings for him and that she knew he had feelings too.
Charlotte savored the warmth of his kiss and told herself that it was a sign that she needed to tell him. She tried to think of the words she had practiced earlier, but her mind was blank. She looked into his eyes, those impossibly beautiful eyes, and she wished that for at least one moment she wouldn't lose her mind around him.
She pushed herself back and blurted it out.
"There's something we need to talk about."
To her surprise, Jack nodded his head in agreement. "I know we've been putting this off. Callie reminded me about it this afternoon when I ran into her on the Hill."
"She what? She told you?"
"I gave it a lot of thought this afternoon, probably too much thought," he said. "I wrote it down. It's all on a legal pad in my briefcase. I'll go get it. I'm sorry if this was super stressful for you. It's a conversation that's overdue."
Charlotte cocked her head. "What exactly did she say? What's in the briefcase?"
"My list," Jack replied. "I want to make sure we get this right. Callie gave me a basic rundown, but I wanted to talk it through with you before making any final decisions."
Did he write down his feelings? Charlotte wondered. Did Callie really go behind her back to tell Jack how she felt?
"Where do you want to start?" Jack asked. He grabbed the briefcase off the ground and sat down at the table.
"I don't know," Charlotte replied.
"How about your friends? We have limited space, but I wanted to make sure you had everyone you wanted there."
"You're talking about the guest list?"
"Of course," Jack said. He flipped his legal pad open to a page full of handwriting.
Charlotte laughed and tried not to look upset. She didn't know why, but she was fighting back tears.
Ok, she thought, we'll do the guest list, and then I'll tell him.
"There's something else I've been meaning to talk about with you," Jack said. "I wanted to thank you. I'm really gl
ad I'm doing this with you. I don't tell you how special you are to me as often as I think it. You're just so different from everyone I know, and it means the world to me."
"Let me guess, because of my hair and my taste in books," Charlotte said.
"No, because you don't ask anything of me. You accept me for who I am without trying to change me or use me in any way, and you're the only one in the world I can say that about. You listen when I talk — really listen — and you are so kind and understanding, and I'm lucky to have you."
"Don't I know it," Charlotte said. She sat down across from him and stared down at the legal pad.
"Hey, is everything alright?" Jack asked. He reached across the table and placed his hand on her shoulder. "I really meant what I said. I don't know what I would have done if I hadn't found you. I'm not talking about the election and all of that. You've helped me remember things about myself I had long forgotten. You've helped me remember what I'm fighting for — trying to hold my family together, helping everyone who needs me, building something worthwhile."
He slid his hand down and held her hand.
Charlotte swallowed hard. She wanted to tell him that she needed him. She wanted to say that their time together had been worth more to her than any amount of money or influence or fame. She wanted him, but she couldn't tell him.
He needed her. That would have to be enough for now. He needed her, and she was going to be there for him, even if it meant holding back from getting what she wanted.
"Where do you want to start? I've already talked to a friend about renting his mansion just outside town. It will let us set everything up without disrupting too much of our lives." Jack said, "but we need to go over everything else." He clicked his pen and shifted his attention to the handwritten list before him.
How could she possibly answer with what she was thinking? Where did she want to start? From the beginning again, to make sure she was upfront with her feelings the whole time. She wanted to go back in time to the moment Jack walked in the door and put her heart on the line before he could tell her how much he appreciated her not asking for things from him.
