Charmed by Charlie

by Amanda Uhl

  The door opened behind us and my heart pounded, but it was only a couple I didn’t know leaving the bar. Still, the distraction was enough to shake me from my insanity and bring me back to our surroundings. It must have had the same impact on Charlie because he released me and tousled my hair.

  I pulled my compact out of my purse and checked my makeup. God, I looked like hell. Two long lines of mascara ran down my cheeks like railroad tracks. “Damn.”

  I scrubbed furiously using a tissue I found in my purse. Charlie waited patiently beside me, a good sport.

  “We’d better get back inside,” I said, after I had gotten the worst of it off my face. “Do I look okay?”

  “Like a raccoon eating a watermelon,” he said.

  And despite my shower of tears minutes earlier, I couldn’t stop the bubble of laughter from escaping my lips.

  Chapter Five

  “That woman is ridiculous!” George shouted, although I sat next to him in the front seat. In the back, Elias lay passed out on his stomach, his cell phone still clutched in one hand. Earlier, he had shown us how he had managed to record both twins’ phone numbers in his contacts.

  “No need to shout,” I said in my most reasonable tone. “Bernie has strong opinions when it comes to small business. She means well, though. And her ideas are generally sound.”

  “I know she’s your friend, but she’s loony! You know what she told me?”

  I took a deep breath. I could only imagine. When Charlie and I finally made it back inside the bar after my little meltdown, George was having one of his own. He and Bernie were no longer sitting, but stood facing each other like two prizefighters in a ring. George’s face had been as red as a tomato, a large, pulsing vein at his temple. Bernie’s hair had been a twisted mass of black chaos, and she had yelled a string of obscenities that included the F bomb.

  George didn’t wait for my reply. “She wants me to call the business ‘Spice Boys.’ Says it will bring in customers. Is she insane?”

  “Well…” Truth was, it wasn’t a bad idea. Kind of cute.

  “Well, what? Ah, shit. Don’t tell me you agree with her? Are you outta your mind? Ma will freak.”

  “Well, of course, you can call it whatever you want to call it.” I backpedaled as fast as I could. “It is, after all, your business. Ignore Bernie.”

  “C’mon, Val. Don’t mess with me. You honestly think ‘Spice Boys’ makes sense?”

  “Well…”

  “Be truthful. You like that better than Haddad’s?”

  I cleared my throat, which had suddenly become clogged. “Yeah…I do, George. Not that Haddad’s is a bad name. It’s not. But…well…Spice Boys is not so serious. It sounds like a place that would be fun. People go for stuff like that.”

  “Aw, shit,” George said. He pulled into my apartment complex and parked the car. From the backseat, Elias was mumbling something that sounded like “green beans.”

  “I’ll pick you up at noon, and we can go look at the building tomorrow,” George said. He put a hand on the back of his neck, bowed his head, and rubbed.

  “Okay… George, are you all right?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine.”

  “Are you sure?”

  He lifted his head. “Yeah. Val, you understand why I’m opening this business, don’t you?”

  “Sure,” I said and nodded. “This is your dream to open a spice store. You love to cook. It makes perfect sense.”

  “Yeah, this is my dream, but that’s not all of it. This store…this is for us. You and me. If we can make it a success, we’ll have the money to afford all the things we want to do in life. I don’t want my wife having to work forever, especially when she’s a mom.”

  “Wow…we’ve…we’ve never talked about this before.”

  “I know. That’s why I’m talking about it now. You see, it’s super important to me everything goes well with the store. We have a lot riding on this.”

  “No, I didn’t mean… I meant about kids, George. You never told me you wanted kids.”

  “Well, of course I want kids.” He stared at me, his brow wrinkled, like he couldn’t fathom why I was concerned. “Don’t you?”

  “God, George. I don’t know. I haven’t given it a lot of thought, honestly.”

  George leaned over and grabbed my hand. Behind us Elias said quite clearly, “Please, pass the potatoes.” For a brief moment, I wished I could be in his dream, sitting at the dinner table, eating mashed potatoes, rather than sitting next to George, talking about our future children. Little boys who looked like George with big brown puppy dog eyes. Little girls who looked like me, with straight hair and plump legs.

  “Are you even listening to me?”

  I came to with a jolt. “Kids, you want kids.”

  “I said, most people do…want kids. Look, Val, it’s been a long day, and I’ve got to get this one,” he pointed a large thumb at Elias, “home and into bed.”

  George leaned over and gave me a quick kiss. I breathed in the familiar comforting scent of his woodsy cologne. “I’ll swing by at noon. We can talk more then.”

  But we didn’t talk more about having kids the next day. George didn’t mention it, and I was too afraid to. I suppose I was worried he might not want to marry me after all if I wasn’t sure I wanted to have his babies. God, I was pathetic.

  The building itself was everything George said it was and more. It was built in 1923, but the structure was sound and the floors were all wood. It was originally a family home, but more recently it had been used as an antiques store. There was plenty of shelving to display product and an old-fashioned register in working order. I had fun making it ding for a while until George ordered me to stop. He could be bossy that way.

  “So, you think me and Ma made a good decision?” George and I had stopped for lunch afterward at a local favorite called Papa Joe’s. Papa’s was best known for its hamburgers, but I was back to counting calories and ordered a salad.

  “Ma and I, and yes, I do,” I told him around a bite of lettuce and tomato. “It’s a good choice.”

  “You mind mentioning that to your friend?”

  I stared at George blankly. “You mean Charlie?”

  “No, not him.” George frowned. “I meant Bernie. Tell her I made a good decision. She seems to think I’m not capable of it.”

  “Oh…sure. But, George, you’re completely wrong there. Bernie has a lot of respect for you…as a businessman. Besides, what do you care what Bernie thinks?”

  For a brief moment, George looked at me, horrified. “I don’t care what she thinks. That’s not it. Not at all. I need to prove a point. She may be right about the name, but there’s more that needs to go into this business than that.”

  I stared at him, confused. “You think she’s right about the name?”

  “Yeah, probably. I talked to Dad last night, and he thinks so, too. Ma won’t like it. We’ll have to work on her.”

  “So you’re going to call it ‘Spice Boys’?” I asked carefully. The last thing I wanted was to get George worked up two days in a row. “I thought you thought Bernie was a loon?”

  “Nah, that was in the heat of anger. She has a way of ordering me around that gets me going. It’s like you said, she has good ideas.”

  I opened my mouth and shut it again. I took a sip of my iced tea. Somehow, in the course of one evening, Bernie had gotten George and his father to rename the shop, a feat I would have never attempted, let alone achieved. I grabbed the necklace George had given me for my birthday and played with the V medallion on the end. I had always been labeled the smart one, but maybe Bernie possessed a talent I lacked, the ability to influence people.

  “Hey, isn’t that Charlie?” George asked, holding his hamburger and gesturing with it behind me. “Who’s the girl with him?”

  I stole a quick glance over my shoulder and sure enough, there was Charlie standing with Julie. Ugh. My stomach did a belly flop. I turned around fast, hoping they hadn’t spotted us. “That’
s my boss.”

  “Oh, well, maybe you ought to say hi.”

  “Nah, they looked a little busy.”

  “Not so busy. They’re coming this way.”

  Damn. Work life kept bleeding into personal life. What the hell was my sophisticated boss doing at Papa Joe’s? True, it was the most popular hamburger joint in town, but Julie was a vegetarian.

  “Well hello, Valerie. Fancy seeing you here. Who’s your friend?” Julie was dressed in white jeans and a pink shirt. Her French manicured fingernails pointed at George. Charlie stood next to her, one hand tucked in the back pocket of his blue jeans and the other on his hip, his blond hair tousled. He grinned at me, clearly waiting to see if I would introduce George as my fiancé.

  Of course that wasn’t happening. “George, this is Julie. Julie, George.”

  “Nice to meet you, George.” Julie held out a hand. George stood and shook it.

  “So, this is the boyfriend?” Julie asked.

  I nodded.

  “How did you two meet?” Charlie chimed in, looking innocent. Trapped.

  “My mother introduced us,” George said when I didn’t answer. “She and Val used to take yoga together.”

  Charlie grinned again. I longed to wipe the smirk off his face. “What are you doing here?” I asked Charlie sweetly.

  He eyed me, his blue eyes twinkling with suppressed laughter. Before he could reply, Julie answered, “Charlie wanted a place with some local flavor. Papa Joe’s was his suggestion. Well, we’d better let you two get back to your lunch. We just wanted to say hi. C’mon, Charlie.”

  Julie turned her back and walked away, while I let out a giant breath of pent-up frustration. She stopped and turned back. “Oh, Valerie, almost forgot. Seth says to tell you hello. He’s coming back for a visit next month.”

  I grabbed the sides of my chair and feigned nonchalance, all the while fighting a wave of nausea. Meow. I was pretty sure the kitty-cat swiped her claws across my heart.

  Charlie frowned. “Jules, we’d better get back. See you at work tomorrow, Val. Bye, George.”

  I released my white-knuckled grasp from the sides of the chair and watched as Julie and Charlie made their way to the front of the restaurant. Their golden heads close together presented an attractive duo.

  “Who’s Seth?” George asked.

  I slid back into my seat and fought a surge of acid reflux. I grabbed my glass of water and swallowed, which helped to lessen the burning sensation. “Julie’s stepbrother. He used to work at the company, but he took a sabbatical a couple of years ago.”

  “I wonder why he’s coming to town now.”

  I would have given a million dollars to know.

  “Does he own part of Reynolds?” George asked.

  “I don’t know. But he doesn’t do much with the company. I think he and his”—I swallowed and took a shallow breath through my nose—“father and sister don’t get along well.”

  If that wasn’t a giant understatement I didn’t know what was, but it seemed to satisfy George, who polished off his hamburger and started on his fries. “Looks like your boss gets along all right with Charlie,” said George, gesturing behind me.

  I stole a quick peek. Charlie and Julie were seated now and leaning toward one another, deep in conversation. While I watched, she reached over and brushed the piece of hair I always fought hard not to touch out of his eyes. Apparently, Julie did not share my reservations.

  “Are you ready to go?” I asked

  “What’s your hurry? I haven’t finished my fries.”

  “Okay.” I settled back on my chair and contemplated the large mound of fries in front of George. It was going to be at least five minutes. My phone buzzed next to me, and I checked the number. “It’s Bernie. Do you mind?”

  George made a face, but I took that to be a yes. “Hi.”

  “Hi back.”

  “Is he there with you?”

  “Who?”

  “George…who else would I mean?”

  Blood rushed to my cheeks. “Oh, yeah, of course. We’re eating lunch at Papa Joe’s.”

  “I could have killed him last night. I offered a great suggestion, and he was too bull-headed to accept it.”

  “Um, well, that’s not true.”

  “What do you mean? He liked it? Seriously?”

  “Yeah. Listen, I can’t talk right now.”

  “All right, but hey, I want to warn you. I…I ran into Deirdre in the grocery store this morning.”

  My earlier nausea returned on a rush. I pulled the phone away from my ear and put a hand to my mouth.

  “Val, did you hear me?”

  “Yes,” I managed.

  “I asked her how long she was in town and if Seth was with her. She said he was joining her in a few weeks. She said his dad needed their help with the company, so they’d be sticking around for a while.”

  Bile rose up sharp and swift. I grabbed a napkin from the table and tossed the phone at George.

  “What did you say to her?” George barked at Bernie. I placed shaky hands on the table to steady myself. Seth and Deirdre had returned. I was going to have to find another job.

  Chapter Six

  I starting searching for potential job openings the minute I got home but didn’t turn up anything local. The closest comparable job was in Lansing, Michigan, about a three-and-a-half-hour drive. That was for Abbott Labs, one of our fiercest competitors. No way would I work for them—not after I’d spent the last couple of years strategizing against them. I couldn’t live with myself, let alone face Larry Reynolds. Despite what Seth had done, I respected Larry. He had treated me well the day I joined the company and hadn’t wavered in his support. He trusted me with the premier line and took a personal interest in my well-being after Seth’s betrayal. I’d never meant to stay at Reynolds indefinitely, but I owed him. I needed to look beyond paints. There were bound to be other openings in the hardware industry.

  I set some alerts for the job categories in which I had interest. Then I spent time writing a generic cover letter and clicked the button to upload both it and my resume to the database. I needed to be ready in case anything became available.

  My cat, Mitzi, was a silent witness. She hopped onto my lap and messed with the keys. “Mitzi, stop,” I said firmly. Too late, I watched in horror as my resume was sent off in a flash of electronic molecules to Abbott Labs. “Oh…my…God… Bad kitty. Very, very bad kitty.”

  I picked her paws off the keys and set her on the floor. I’m not sure if Mitzi understood English, but she must have sensed my frustration because she wandered away haughtily, fluffy gray tail in the air.

  My cell phone buzzed. My mother. Maybe I should ignore it. An evening call from my mom usually meant she’d met a new man or she’d dumped an old one. But then again, hearing about my mother’s love life could be a welcome distraction from my own.

  “Hi, Mom.”

  “Sweetheart, brace yourself. Are you sitting down?”

  I swiveled my desk chair. “Sure am.”

  “Good. You’re never going to believe what happened to Bob.”

  “Hmm. Let me guess. He’s going to be an extra in the new Star Wars film?”

  “This is not a good thing. He had a stroke!”

  I stopped swiveling. “He did? Is it serious?”

  “Yes, and he wants me to come out and nurse him back to health. Me? Why does he think I have medical knowledge? I’m not a doctor. I don’t know the first thing about strokes.”

  “How bad is it? Has it affected his facial muscles? His speech?”

  “He could talk okay. He can move fine. But he said he can’t see out of the corner of his left eye.”

  “That doesn’t sound bad at all, Mom. All you have to do is be with him. Hold his hand, bring him a drink. Stuff like that.”

  “Haven’t I taught you anything? The minute you start babying a man, they begin to expect it. I will not be a servant to any man.”

  I rolled my eyes. This was a statemen
t I’d heard many times over the past twenty-nine years of my life.

  The doorbell rang. “Mom, I think George is here. I’ve…gotta run. Get your ticket and go see Bill…I mean Bob. Think of it as an adventure. You can connect with all your old friends.”

  My mother sighed, a great, big drawn-out affair, signaling she was the only one in the world who could face such terrible burdens. “I suppose. Give your George a squeeze from me.”

  I hung up and glanced at the time…7:50 p.m. George was early. After he got done scolding Bernie at the restaurant, he’d dropped me off and had gone home to work on some orders, promising to bring dinner over at eight. Would he make kabobs? My mouth watered as I flung open the door. “You’re early…” I stopped short. Charlie stood there, a dimpled smile on his face and bulky envelope in his hands. I had the irrational urge to fling myself into his arms and sob uncontrollably. I hung onto the doorknob instead. “What the heck are you doing here? How do you even know where I live?”

  “And here I thought you’d be happy to see me. Can I come in?”

  I hesitated. He quirked his right eyebrow. How did he do that? “Yeah, okay.” I didn’t wait to see if he followed me inside but turned my back and walked away. “I don’t suppose you brought kabobs in that package?”

  Charlie looked at me strangely. “Were you expecting dinner?”

  “Yeah, I was actually. Grab a seat and tell me what brings you my way.”

  Charlie obediently settled his large frame on my red sofa and eyed me up and down, causing my heart rate to accelerate alarmingly. I sat on the chair opposite, hands primly on my lap. He held up the envelope. “Sorry, no dinner here. Evidence.”

  “Huh?”

  He opened the package and pulled out several stacks of papers. He handed me one of them. “These are Reynolds’s sales for the past three quarters. And these”—he handed me the other stack—“are a list of Reynolds vendors and year-to-date expenditures.”