by Jorja Tabu
Charlotte squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head. “It hurts too much to think about it like that.”
“If you make it about vulnerability,” Mandy said wisely. “That’s the part that hurts. If you make it about sex, maybe you can spin it like you used him.”
“Oh yeah? For what?” Charlotte half laughed at the absurdity of her sister’s speech, and the two of them moved over to the couch. She’d thrown a blanket over it; when it was bare it just reminded her of the time she’d had with Danny, leaning back against the arm, bracing herself…
“For teaching you about yourself. Your needs. As a woman.” Mandy looked stern. “You haven’t ever indulged that part of yourself, Charlie. You’ve never fed the part of yourself that needed more than discipline and analysis and books.” She waved her hand at the shelves behind her. “That man broke your heart, but he taught some other parts of you a thing or two.” Her voice grew soft again. “I know thinking of it that way isn’t working for you right now, but maybe…”
“Maybe,” Charlie finished, wiping away yet another tear. She sighed. “Someday. Right now I just…I feel like the saddest slut in the book.”
“I’d like to see where my name is in this book,” Mandy said saucily. “I mean, I’m just saying, Charlie—after seeing this guy, no one in their right mind would blame you for hopping on his dick right there in the mansion.”
“Oh, brother,” Charlie said, rolling her eyes. It did make her laugh, though.
“Oh brother nothing,” Mandy said, standing up and getting a drink of water from the kitchen. “When I saw him in the restaurant, I thought, praise be, is that present for me, Lord?” She winked on the way back to the couch. “And then I found out he was yours, and a mixed up one at that. So I told him what I thought of his sorry, fine ass and sent him out the door.”
“He really did break my heart,” Charlotte said sadly.
“He really did,” Mandy said, nodding. “But if he managed to break your hymen too, well…” Charlotte giggled and threw a pillow at her.
“I’d had sex before,” she muttered.
“Technically, I guess so,” Mandy said with a sly look. “But if you can spend so little time thinking about men as you have, you haven’t had it like it should be done.”
“Oh brother,” Charlie said again, rolling her eyes as hard as she could.
“Oh brother yourself,” Mandy said and threw the pillow back to her. “At least he got one thing right. Don’t let him take more of your time away from you. Just be glad that’s what you got from him—nothing more, no kids, no sad marriage, no mortgage, nothing more than a couple days—and remember that sweet ass, and just…” She inhaled deeply, moving her hands dramatically as she sucked in the air, and then exhaled. “Let it go.”
“It’s that easy, huh?”
“Well, I’ve had to learn how to do this about fourteen times so far,” Mandy said, shrugging. “But I would love to learn it a fifteenth time.”
The sisters laughed together for a minute, and then Mandy pulled something from her pocket.
“What’s that?” Charlie found she was ready to think about something else. Anything else, really.
“Well, our beloved Auntie has asked us to join the Goodtree family at the Historical Society’s dinner tonight.” Mandy waited a second for the information to sink in. “They are planning on standing in solidarity against Cran’s latest…you know.”
Charlotte did know. But…Did that mean…”Our favorite Auntie? Are you sarcastically referring to Mrs. Hartford?”
“Way to kill the joke, sis,” Mandy smiled tightly. “But yes, the very same. It seems she’s not alone in regretting their fateful denial, which has lead us all to this sad point. Cran is going to give the Historical Society a presentation about the future of the plantation grounds tonight, and all our ‘relatives’ are going to be there to protest during his speech.”
“Wow,” Charlotte said. “That’s…incredible.”
“Does that mean you’ll be my date?” Mandy looked hopeful. Charlotte thought about it for a minute. Should she even consider it?
Danny—Daniel Sage, she told herself firmly—would probably be there. “I don’t know, Mandy,” she whispered, hugging her arms around herself.
“I do,” Mandy said, once again with steel in her voice. “The battle for the plantation might be over, Charlie, but it has gotten us the recognition we deserve. Our parents, Charlotte—what would they want? Our father—can you imagine what this would mean to him?”
She could. There was no denying that. Seeing the expression on her face, Mandy nodded with satisfaction.
“Well, if I’m going to go, I need to look…” Charlotte raised her eyebrows.
“Like a million bucks? Got you covered,” Mandy said, smiling widely. “Just you wait until you see what I’ve got in the car.”
And with that, the sisters began to prepare their grand entrance to the Historical Society’s dinner that night.
~~~~~~~~
Daniel had been walking around with a chain on his heart for two weeks. Two whole weeks with nothing but the sight of the woman he loved—yes, that’s right, he absolutely loved her—desperately weeping as she fled. The view of her perfect back as she ducked down the last crooked alleyway—the echo of her crying the only thing left. How could she have disappeared in such a tiny place? There wasn’t even a place to hide secrets in this town, let alone voluptuous historians.
And didn’t he know it.
He had no one to blame but himself. He should’ve told her who he was immediately. Hi, I’m Daniel Kane. I’m the developer from Raleigh that’s thinking about turning this old place into condos. But he’d damned his chances with her, foolishly, stupidly, telling himself to enjoy the time he had, the brief opportunity to bask in her light—fooling himself into thinking there was a simple way to make this right, to erase these early bad decisions; it was an idiocy that had cost him what looked to be his greatest happiness.
He couldn’t take it back now. Now, he just had to live with it.
“Hello, ladies and gentleman,” he heard the elderly woman to his left say, her voice gentle but raspy in the big drafty old room. They were sitting on a low stage before a crowded house, the speaker—a Mrs. Burshell, president of the Monterray Historical Society—turning politely to Cranwell Jr and nodding once at Daniel. He knew that she didn’t want to be up there with them—the traitors. She had allowed this conference to be called simply because the fate of Goodtree plantation was worthy news for the Society, and as its grande dame she could hardly refuse to emcee. But she didn’t like either of the men to her right, and frankly, Daniel didn’t blame her.
He didn’t like himself right now either.
But he hoped—fervently, desperately—that he would be redeemed when it was his turn to speak. Someone here would tell Charlotte. Someone would let her know he wasn’t a traitor, and his only crime was not having the confidence to believe he could’ve been honest and still been worthy of her attention.
Instead, he’d only proved himself unworthy.
Cranwell’s sour cough interrupted his thoughts. “Sit down, Uncle Mosey,” the young man said, scowling. Three older gentlemen, all waving canes and hollering from the back row, were gently corralled by the white-haired women with them. Another row of stone-faced but frail ladies told Danny that all the remaining Goodtrees were here, and not surprisingly, they all seemed to feel the same way Mrs. Burshell did. “Y’all don’t seem to remember asking me to make decisions for our family. Collectively.” Cran managed to sound condescending. The three older men stood once again and yelled with their canes wagging. “Well I do. And I have made an excellent one.” He stared out at them. “I made the best financial decision I could, given our options, and—“ He was struck silent by the most recent addition to the room.
Sitting quietly down in the row of stoney faced older women, Mandy and Charlotte managed to look even more dignified, elegant and furious than their ancestors. In addition, they
were breathtakingly beautiful.
Well, everyone else noticed Mandy’s beauty, but to be fair, Danny only had eyes for Charlotte Goodtree.
Her hair was loose and fell in tight ringlets around her lovely face, her large eyes never wavering towards him. Gold hoops framed her jaw, and a pale lavender dress emphasized her perfect shape and lovely skin. Daniel felt his chest tighten at the sight of her.
She continued to ignore him. Instead, she and her sister bored holes in Cranwell Junior.
“I—I was saying…” He muttered, disbelief clearly painted across his face. “I was saying that…That I made the best possible financial decision for our family.” He was booed. “Do y’all think your army of care-givers is free? Do you think your fancy shmancy prescriptions are free?” He opened his hands as if these things were beyond his control; to the outsider, of course this would seem perfectly reasonable.
His relatives weren’t fooled.
“You don’t pay for that! None of the trust goes to that!” Charlotte was standing up, and with the echo of her youthful voice billowing around the room, the older people unanimously rose in a fury.
“Yeah!”
“I made my money on the horses!”
“You good-fer-nothin! How your mama would cry if she saw your sorry tail right now—“
“—The money goes in trust for all of us,” Cranwell said appeasingly, his hands still open, his expression plaintive. “It was best for everybody.”
“Who’s name is on the check?” This was Mandy, standing next to her sister with rage on her face.
“Well, let me introduce you to the man who signed it,” Cranwell said smoothly, dodging the question. It was obvious who the check would be signed to. The boos coming from the audience nearly shook the walls.
“Good evenin’,” Daniel said, holding his best cowboy hat in his hands. He’d polished his boots, gotten a clean shave. It’d been too much for him to hope that she’d be here, but now he was so grateful he’d gone to the trouble.
She stared resolutely at her cousin.
“I wish this wasn’t how we were meeting,” Danny said carefully. It wasn’t. He was happy for Charlotte that it seemed this had brought her family together at last, but sad that the first time he saw their faces, they hated him. “I was referred to Cranwell by a realtor who specializes in marketable historical properties.” He took a deep breath, his eyes locked on Charlotte. “When I saw Goodtree plantation, I knew it was something special.” The room quieted down; the family clearly hadn’t expected humility in Cran’s accomplice. “My vision wasn’t y’alls, but I honestly didn’t know that at the time. I went off of the information I had.” Now he was going to take a chance. “I think of myself as cautious. Careful. It’s how I’ve made my name, and my fortune. Hard work, hard thinking. But when I came out here and started picking around the place, I got more than I bargained for.” Please, look at me, Charlotte, he thought. “A beautiful woman taught me about the history of Goodtree after I’d resolved to buy it. And I did. But I want to give it back—I want to give it the chance to be as beautiful as she is, as she imagines it to be. Charlotte Goodtree, the property’s signed over to you.”
Her gasp was the only sound anyone could hear in the silent room.
Mrs. Burshell ran towards him with her hands on her hips. “Young man, to make such a fantastic claim just because you want to charm these folks until you get outta town—“ She stopped short when Daniel handed her the deed, and as her eyes moved over the paper her jaw dropped. “Oh my lord,” she whispered, the microphone picking up every word. “He did,” she said, turning towards the crowd. “He really did!”
“Get up there, girl!” Her auntie pushed her shoulder with a boney hand, and Charlotte turned towards her with her mouth agape.
“Now, Charlie!” Mandy’s push was a little more forceful.
Daniel began to walk towards her, his long strides making the distance in no time. Charlotte couldn’t stop herself—she ran to his arms.
“Charlotte, I was a fool not to tell you before,” he said softly, his voice creeping into her ear below the roar of the crowded room. “I apologize for acting like a damn idiot.”
She leaned back, not even recognizing the rush of movement and sound around her. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because…” He took a deep breath, one finger tracing her cheekbone. “Because I knew if I did, you wouldn’t have nothing to do with me. I’m rich, but I’ll always be a redneck. I’m not good enough for you, Charlotte Goodtree. And I knew if I was to say—“
“Hush,” she said, pressing her lips to his for just a second. “You’re right. You were a damn idiot. And you still are if you think that’s the kind of thing I care about.”
“Charlotte,” Daniel said, his electric eyes pulsing energy towards her, warm and visceral and true, “I believe I am falling in love with you.” The words had clearly never come out of his mouth before. They were painfully raw.
“I’m falling with you,” she whispered back, and with that, the couple finally kissed, the past finally done as they pushed deeper into the future, and each other.
BE SURE TO LOOK FOR JORJA’S NEXT THRILLING ROMANCE: FARTHER.
SHE THOUGHT SHE KNEW WHAT SHE WANTED—OUT OF HER SMALL TOWN LIFE, AND INTO THE WIDE WORLD. LUCY’S CAREER AS A ‘SEXPLORER’ TAKES HER INTO MANY COUNTRIES AND MANY BEDS AS SHE DOCUMENTS HER ADVENTURES IN A WIDELY READ TRAVEL BLOG, FOCUSING ON THE NAUGHTIER SIDE OF VACATIONS. BUT WHEN SHE IS DIAGNOSED WITH BREAST CANCER, SHE FINDS HERSELF BACK IN THE SMALL TOWN SHE FLED, FACING THE MAN SHE ABANDONED. CAN SHE EVER FORGIVE HERSELF FOR LEAVING THE ONLY MAN SHE EVER LOVED?
FARTHER IS A 20,000 WORD NOVELLA THAT EXPLORES THE CONSEQUENCES OF ADVENTUROUS YOUTH AND THE REDEEMING QUALITIES OF LOVE. LOOK FOR IT ON AMAZON KINDLE AND BARNES AND NOBLE NOOKBOOKS IN 2011.
JORJA TABU LOVES TO HEAR FROM HER READERS. If you have a question, comment, idea, concern, or a great recipe please feel free to email her at [email protected]. She is not great at replying but that doesn’t mean she isn’t reading them! A blog is also in the works for 2011 that will explore the back story and motivation behind each novella published. Check back often for juicy motives, philosophical meanderings, and heartfelt sharing on the development of each character.
