A good ugly-cry had always done the trick in the past when a relationship had ended, but this was the ugly-cry that wouldn’t quit.
Like she was some kind of emotional overachiever.
It was six in the morning and already she knew there was no way she could go in to work today. The only thing that made her feel okay about her decision not to was the fact that they were a fully staffed office now, and with any luck, no one would be too put out by her absence.
Decision made, she texted her boss and then crawled back into bed.
And started crying again.
Eventually she dozed off and the next time Charlotte’s eyes opened, it was noon.
Progress.
Climbing from the bed, she made her way to the kitchen and tried to find something to eat, even though just the thought of food made her stomach rebel.
“Too bad,” she murmured. “You’re an intelligent woman and you know you need to eat. You don’t have to enjoy it.”
Which was how she ended up with a cup of yogurt and a handful of jellybeans.
Breakfast of champions.
It had been so long since she’d had an entire day off with nothing to do that she had no idea what to do with herself. A few weeks ago, heck, a few hours ago, she would have gotten dressed and gone for a walk on the beach. But that was ruined for her right now. Her favorite place to walk would forever remind her of Julian—and the fact that his house was pretty much in full view of where she normally went didn’t help things either. Hopefully he’d continue with his house search and move sooner rather than later, and maybe someday she’d be able to go and sit on the beach and not look over her shoulder for him. Or wonder where he was or what he was doing.
Right. Like that was ever going to happen.
In a few short weeks, Julian Grayson had managed to consume her—heart, mind, and soul. For so long, Charlotte hadn’t believed there was such a thing as true love—at least not for her—but now she knew better. She’d fallen hard for him when she’d thought he had nothing, and the more she’d gotten to know him, the harder she’d fallen until she was all in.
Imagine how much more there would have been if he had only opened himself up to her and let her see all of him? What if he had bared it all to her—the good, the bad, and the ugly?
She still would have loved him.
She did still love him.
But clearly, love wasn’t enough when he was purposely holding so much of himself back. Of course, she could reason that she couldn’t possibly truly be in love with him if she didn’t fully know him.
And she’d be lying.
Loving Julian had come easily. Easier than she’d ever thought it could.
Now she had to hope that having a life without him would come as easily.
Liar.
Okay, fine. She didn’t want to think about moving on, even though—again, logically—she knew it was for the best. There was no way she could live like this and feel like this for any extended period of time. For all of her strength and determination when it came to helping others, Charlotte didn’t believe she had it in her to do it for herself.
“Focus on something else,” she encouraged herself, even though there was little hope she would. Walking over to the couch, she sat down and turned on the television. Channel surfing wasn’t a favorite of hers, but right now it did provide a decent distraction. An hour later she found a documentary on Princess Diana that captured her attention.
That’s when the snacking began.
More jellybeans, then popcorn. Luckily, there were some chips in the pantry, and she even managed to whip up some onion dip. Since no one was going to be kissing her any time soon, she was able to add extra onions.
That took her through the afternoon, and by dinnertime, she felt sick. And that definitely took her mind off Julian and how much she missed him.
That lasted until she crawled back into bed, where she started crying again. “A-at…least I’m consistent,” she sobbed as she rolled over and turned out the light.
* * *
While Charlotte wouldn’t say a week of self-pity was the way to go, it had certainly helped her to get a little perspective on life and to find her focus again. She’d taken the time for some deep reflection and to try to get her life a little more organized. The first thing she’d done was arrange to have her car fixed. Fortunately the shop offered her a loaner car so she wasn’t completely stranded.
So, on Monday morning after picking up her car, she walked into her office with a clear mind, a fresh attitude, and a desire to help everyone who needed it today.
And clearly, there were many.
By five thirty, she was exhausted but decided to call Hank and see how things were over at the shelter. Last week she’d avoided it because it was too much of a reminder of Julian. Now she could make herself look at it as part of her job again.
“CeeCee!” Hank said when he answered the phone. “How are you?”
“I’m good, Hank. And you?”
“I’m great, CeeCee. Seriously, great!”
Okay, that was a little overly enthusiastic, so she had to ask. “Wow! What’s going on?”
“Well, the shelter is almost empty, which means people have places to live,” he explained. “We had some of your musician friends show up here last Thursday night and we didn’t have any kids here for them to entertain, but they were more than willing to give us a hand with some cleaning and maintenance stuff. I’ll tell you, it was like that first week when Julian came here. It’s amazing what a couple of extra hands can accomplish!”
“That’s wonderful, Hank. Really. So, what can I do to help this week? Anything? We haven’t had a job search seminar in a while, any requests for one?”
“I appreciate the offer, but we’ve been having a lot of luck around here lately getting people back on their feet. You’ve given those of us on staff enough training that we’ve put it to use to help out instead of burdening you.”
“Hank,” she said, smiling, “it’s my job. You’re supposed to reach out to me and it’s never a burden. You know I love what I do.”
“I do, and you have been such a blessing to everyone here, but the shelter is my responsibility. I finally have a full-time staff, and for a while there we were relying heavily on you and that wasn’t very fair either.”
Hearing him say it reminded her of how overworked she had felt for a while, but after she’d met Julian…
Nope. Not going to go there.
“I didn’t mind. I swear. You know how much I enjoy working with you and everyone at the shelter. It’s something very near and dear to me, so please don’t ever hesitate to ask for help.”
“CeeCee, you are always welcome here, and unfortunately, there will always be a need for your services. But for right now, things are good here.”
They talked for a few more minutes about some of the families she’d met there and where they were now, and by the time she hung up, she was feeling good. Positive. Good things really did happen for people even after something bad.
Something she needed to remember for herself.
Leaning back in her chair, Charlotte contemplated how she was going to get back into a normal pattern of life that didn’t involve…well, him. She glanced around her office and saw a picture tucked far down on the corkboard that hung next to her desk.
Tami.
Her friends.
That’s what she needed right now! A night out with her friends! Feeling a sense of excitement, she pulled out her phone and did a group text to see if they could all get together one night this week. It was too much to hope that it would happen tonight, but she’d throw it out there and see how it went.
Falling in love had been that exciting roller-coaster ride.
But right now, all she wanted was the steadiness of the merry-go-round.
And he
r friends.
* * *
“You look like shit.”
“Good to see you too, Mick,” Julian murmured as he shut the door behind his manager. “What brings you here?”
Mick walked through the living room and stopped at the wall of windows. “That’s one amazing view, huh? It never gets old.”
He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. It’s magical. Why are you here?”
Looking over his shoulder, Mick leveled him with a glare. “I see your mood hasn’t improved.”
And why would it, he thought. His life was a mess, he hadn’t slept in a week, and right now the last thing he wanted was company. He looked at the folder in Mick’s hand. “Is that about the house?”
With a sigh, Mick turned and handed him the folder. “It’s a done deal. All you need to do is sign and you’ll no longer be a homeowner.”
Wordlessly, Julian took the folder and emptied its contents while he searched for a pen. Two minutes later, he handed it all back. “Done.”
“How about a drink to celebrate?”
“No thanks.”
Mick tossed the folder on the couch and slid his hands into his trouser pockets. “We gonna talk about this?”
“Nothing to say.”
This was how they did things—Mick tried to draw him out, Julian resisted, and eventually Mick would calmly say his piece and then leave him alone. It worked for them.
Until now.
One dark brow arched at him, and if Julian wasn’t mistaken, there was a bit of an evil smile on Mick’s face.
That was new.
“I have a couple of guys who are interested in the gig with the shelter. One’s a bassist and one does vocals. They’re young and eager and part of an up-and-coming band out of San Francisco I’m interested in representing.” He shrugged. “Anyway, I wasn’t sure if you were going to be doing anything more with the project since you and Charlotte are no longer dating, so I sent them directly to her.”
His jaw was clenched so tight that Julian was certain he was going to split a molar.
“You remember what it was like to be young and hungry for any exposure with the music, right?” Smiling, Mick walked over and sat down on the couch next to the discarded folder. “They want representation and I need to get to know them a bit more. Either way, I figure Charlotte will work closely with them and maybe even find them some work. That’s what she does, right?”
“She helps people who are unemployed, Mick,” he said stiffly. “She doesn’t find jobs for wayward musicians.”
“We’ll see. When I talked to her yesterday, she didn’t seem opposed to the idea. You know a lot of these kids move to LA in hopes of getting a record deal. They play all night and sleep all day, but it doesn’t pay their bills. I’d like to get someone who can work with them to find them jobs so I’m not buying their groceries, but I know they won’t be living on ramen and beer.”
“You…you talked to Charlotte?”
Nodding and smiling smugly, he said. “Just yesterday. Probably again later today after she meets the boys. Well, they’re not boys, really. They’re men. Young and anxious.”
And while Julian knew full well that Mick was trying to bait him, all he could do was hold himself still and refuse to react.
“Boys will be boys,” Mick added. “But I think what Charlotte did for you was great. She got you out and playing music again—even if you won’t admit you’re ready to rejoin the band—and I think she deserves something for her time. You know, for, um…services rendered, if you know what I mean.” He winked and the lecherous grin was the last straw.
The next thing Julian knew he was diving over the coffee table and had his long-time friend and manager by the throat. The couch flipped over as every curse he had ever heard flew from his mouth. Mick did his own share of verbal sparring, but Julian was so blind with rage, the words barely registered.
Glass shattered, the coffee table went flying, and it was a free-for-all. It was gratifying to have flesh meet bone as he pounded his fist repeatedly anywhere he could reach on Mick. It didn’t feel so great to be on the receiving end of some blows, but he was bigger and stronger and knew how to deflect better.
Pushing up, he pulled his arm back to deliver another blow when he realized Mick wasn’t moving. He was conscious and breathing, but…he was also simply lying there and taking the beating. What the hell?
Julian jumped to his feet and stalked across the room, trying to wrap his head around what he’d just done.
Breathless, he grabbed the fireplace mantel and did his best to regulate his breathing and clear his head. Somewhere behind him, he heard Mick come to his feet, groaning. He was too ashamed to turn around and see what he’d done.
“Do us all a favor, Julian,” Mick said, his own voice breathless and strained. “Go deal with your shit. It’s time you confronted Dena and got this off your chest already. We’re all tired of it. And maybe then you’ll get your head out of your ass and make music again.”
“This wasn’t about her,” Julian said, his throat dry.
“You keep telling yourself that. You’ve made everything about her and because of that, you’ve lost the best thing that ever happened to you.”
That made him turn around. “I don’t consider the band to be the best thing to happen to me.”
With a mirthless laugh, Mick picked up the folder he’d arrived with. “That wasn’t what I was referring to.”
And then he was gone.
* * *
It was hard to come off like a badass when all you could think of was how it felt like you had butterflies in your belly, Julian thought.
Yeah, not the manliest thought he’d ever had, but there it was.
He was sitting in a corner booth of one of his favorite restaurants in downtown LA late Thursday afternoon and wishing he was anyplace else but here.
“Hey, Julian.”
Dena.
Looking up, he realized that for the first time in a long time he felt…nothing. He’d thought long and hard about what Mick had said, and about all the things Charlotte had said to him as well. This had gone on long enough. It was time to deal with it as an adult and…here he was.
Motioning for her to sit, Julian stayed firmly in his seat. He didn’t give a damn about being a gentleman or any of that crap. He wasn’t here to impress anyone; he just wanted his life back.
“I was surprised to hear from you,” she said carefully as she sat. “You seemed pretty adamant about not talking to me.”
“What are you doing here, Dena?” he asked, cutting to the chase.
“You called me.”
He shook his head. “No. Back in California. I believe I paid you enough to make sure you left and wouldn’t come back.”
“No, your manager paid me,” she corrected with a bit of a snap in her voice, which she instantly corrected. “I needed to talk to you.”
“If you’re going to ask for more money or for another chance, it’s not gonna happen. We’re done. For good.”
And then something strange happened. The woman sitting across from him—the beautiful, confident woman—almost seemed to shrink before his eyes. It was then that he realized she wasn’t wearing the heavy makeup she usually did or the large, flashy jewelry. She looked a lot like the woman he had originally met.
Only older.
“You may not believe this, but…I wanted to thank you.”
Um…yeah. He didn’t believe that, but rather than comment on it, he waited her out.
“I didn’t realize just how much I had spiraled out of control until I was faced with it at the wedding. That video was a real wake-up call, and believe me, if you wanted to humiliate me, you succeeded.” She let out a breath and reached for the glass of water the waitress had brought.
“I had this idea in my mind of what I wanted to be—who I w
anted to be—and you were the one I thought could make it happen. What I didn’t realize was…I didn’t like the person I had become. I was hateful and petty and…” She gave him a helpless look. “I was horrible.”
No arguments there.
“But I’m not willing to take all the blame,” she went on. “You fed into the craziness just as much as I did. We were a textbook case of a codependent relationship.”
Again, no arguments; he simply nodded.
“I kept searching for that thing—just that one thing—that would make me happy. I kept telling myself if I just had this or if we just did that, I’d be happy. And you know what?”
“You weren’t,” he replied.
“Exactly. Julian, why did we waste so much time?”
He let those words sink in for a minute and it was almost a relief for him to hear it was the same for her too.
When he didn’t respond, she posed a question to him. “I know what my reasoning was for staying. What was yours?”
“Stubbornness,” he said after a long moment. “My mother once told me she wished my father had fought more for her, for their relationship.”
“But…they’re still together,” she commented curiously.
He’d never shared with Dena the details of his parents’ marriage. And he didn’t think he should, either. “They had a lot of issues, and my father—who I’m sure you’ve noticed—isn’t the most emotional man. My mom always wished he was. She used to tell me how much it would have meant to her if he had put more effort into their relationship. So that’s what I thought I was doing. I thought I was doing the right thing.”
“And you were,” she said softly, an understanding smile on her face. “You were just doing it for the wrong reason. Or should I say for the wrong relationship?”
He felt himself relax as he laughed. “It never should have gotten to the point it did.” Swallowing hard, he said the one thing that had been bothering him the most about the entire situation. “You made a fool of me, Dena. You screwed around with people I knew—people I worked with and trusted. I’m a laughingstock in this business because of you.”
One More Moment Page 23
