Weakness clouds me. “It wasn’t just a fling to me either.”
“That’s nice to hear from you,” he says, “but it’s too late to do anything about it now. Despite your assumptions, I’m rather fond of your mother and I don’t want to do anything that will bring her harm.”
I believe him. I hate myself for it, but I believe him. “I don’t either,” I say.
“Then I think we can both agree that we can keep this little spat to ourselves.”
I nod and close my eyes. I feel like a punished child standing in front of the entire class as the teacher scolds her.
“Alice…” he says softly. I look up at him and he shows me his smile. “It really is nice to see you again.”
I take a slow breath. “It’s nice to see you, too, Charles,” I say.
“Happy birthday.”
A smile strikes my lips and I nod at him again before turning back towards the house. When I get back inside, I see the lights of the kitchen have gone dim and the flickering of candlelight lingers on the walls. I breathe a heavy sigh and step into the room. “Okay, let’s get this over with,” I say.
Percy closes in on my back and hugs me from behind. “Everything all right?” he says into my ear.
“Yep,” I say. I plant a quick kiss on his lips.
My mother sits at the table next to a large cake with candles shaped like the number 23. “Happy birthday, kiddo,” she says.
I come in closer and nod with approval at the cake’s design. “A typewriter,” I note, looking at the black and gray frosting. “A little archaic, but still accurate.”
My mother shrugs. “Well, I guess I could have asked them to draw a Kindle on it or something,” she says.
“No, it looks great, Mom. Thank you.” I lean over and hug her. It feels strange now. An odd rift has formed between us, but I’m the only one aware of it. I wish I could forget that we’ve both loved the same man, but it’s permanently etched deep inside me now. I hear the front door open and close as Charles reenters the house.
“There he is!” my mother announces. I watch her eyes as he steps over to her and lays a hand on her shoulder. “Everything okay?” she asks.
“Nothing to worry about tonight,” he says with a secret glance at me. “It’s a party.”
“Make a wish, Alice,” Percy tells me.
I stand over the cake and lick my lips as I wonder what to wish for. When I was a child, this was the easy part. I’d wish for whatever I wanted at the time, be it a bike or a pet dog. The odds of getting it were always small — we didn’t have very many resources — but that was never the point. It was about knowing that in that moment, there was magic somewhere in the universe and it was there to bring me whatever my heart desired.
I look up at Charles. The candle’s flame flickers in his eyes and I allow myself to feel his warmth again. I turn away as fate’s cold knife slits my throat.
I blow out the candles without making a wish.
Magic doesn’t exist.
Chapter 11
The Elephant in the Room
I linger in the hallway just outside the kitchen doorway, bouncing up and down on my toes, trying to build up the nerve to face my mother.
I didn’t get very much sleep last night. The shock of seeing Charles again — especially in the loving arms of my mother — was too much for me to handle. Percy, of course, noticed there was something wrong, but I just blamed the cup of coffee I drank after dinner for fueling me with too much caffeine. He slept like a rock while I fought through a near panic attack until four in the morning.
“Alice, is that you?”
I force myself through the doorway and plant myself in a stool at the counter. “Yeah, it’s just me,” I tell her.
“Got something on your mind, sweetie?” she asks before blowing into her mug.
“Is it that obvious?” I ask.
My mother grabs a clean mug from the cabinet above her head and fills it with fresh coffee. “You’ve been lurking around my house for ten minutes,” she says as she pushes it towards me. “Yes, it’s obvious.”
I laugh a little and take a long sip. The brew is far too hot, but I let the pain seethe in my throat. It’s better to feel that instead of everything else inside of me right now. “Mom,” I say, staring into my coffee mug, “how are things going with you and…”
“Charles?” she asks.
“Yeah.” I bite my lip, hating that I couldn’t even say his name.
She smiles as she thinks about it. “It’s nice,” she says. “He’s really cool and fun.”
A wave of nausea rips through me. I force it down. “He didn’t… stay the night, did he?”
My mother laughs. “No, his driver picked him up shortly after you went to bed. Isn’t that cool? He has a driver!”
“Yeah…”
“He had an early flight this morning to Paris,” she continues. “Something work related.”
I take another sip of coffee, using the brief pause to gather my thoughts. “So, you two have been seeing each other a month?”
“Yes,” she answers. “Off and on. A few dates. Nothing too serious.”
I nod as I feel the sweat gathering on my brow. “And you two haven’t…”
“Fucked?”
The weight of the word crushes me down. “M-Mom!” I sit back and push the mug away from me before my hands tremor it off the counter. All the while, her laughter echoes over my torment.
“If you must know…” she says, laughing at me. “No, we haven’t.”
“Really?” I don’t want to appear too relieved, but the mere thought of Charles seducing my mother is in large part what kept me up all night.
“No. I explained my past to him and how I wanted to take things slow. He was fine with it. He wasn’t looking for anything too crazy either.”
I try to say something in reply, but I’m still too thrilled with the fact that my ex-lover isn’t banging my mother.
“Good morning, ladies.”
I turn around and see Percy walking in. “Hey…” I manage to breathe out as he wraps his arms around my neck and lingers above my shoulders.
“Have I missed anything important?” he asks as he pokes my ribs.
“No, we’re just chatting,” my mother says.
He takes the stool next to me and pulls it a little closer as he sits down. “Oh, I love a little girl talk,” he teases.
“Mom—” The word exhales past my lips, fast and stiff. “We have something to tell you.”
She stops and stares at us, her gaze bouncing back and forth between our faces. “Okay…” she says.
I glance at Percy’s smiling face and he nudges my ribs again. “Percy has asked me to marry him,” I say.
Her eyes go wide.
“And…” Percy adds, “she said yes.”
“Yeah, right —” I shake my head, my fingers tapping the counter. “I said yes. We’re getting married and I said yes.”
My mother bursts into laughter. “Well, of course you two are getting married!” she shouts. “I knew you would the moment I met him.”
I laugh with her as Percy grips my hand on the counter. She steps around me throws her arms around Percy’s head.
“It’s like I always told you, sweetie…” she says. “Marry young, take notes, and get it right during the second marriage.”
“What?” Percy asks.
I shake my head at him. “She’s never told me that.”
***
“Order up, Alice!”
I glance over my shoulder and take note of the new plates stacked on the ledge. “Table three, Rick?” I ask the chef.
“Table three,” he confirms.
“Thanks,” I throw my voice through the open window and grab the plates.
The entrance bell sounds across the room as I stop by table three to deliver their food.
“Alice!”
My smile immediately stretches across my face as I hear Gabby’s high-pitched voice by the door. “Let me
know if you guys need anything else,” I tell the table before rushing over and throwing my arms around her.
“Enough with the hugs!” she shouts after a brief second. “Show me the rock.” I present my engagement ring to her and she studies it closely, nearly yanking my finger out of the socket in the process. After a silent moment, she glances back up at me. “That’s it?” she asks.
“Hey—” I pull my hand away. “We can’t all marry billionaires, Gabby.”
She shrugs and tumbles her thick fur coat down her shoulders. “We can if we try hard enough, Alice,” she says.
“The table in the corner,” I tell her. “I’ll be right there.” She passes by me and wanders over to the corner table while I slink back behind the counter.
“Hey, Rick,” I announce, “I’m taking my break.”
He gives me a grunt of acknowledgment. I unpin my name tag and toss it in my pocket of my uniform as I rush across the diner and sit across from Gabby.
“Okay, tell me how he proposed,” she says, sitting up straight. “Spare no details because how a man proposes is a direct reflection of how much he loves you.”
“Okay,” I laugh, “but everything you just said is objectively untrue.”
“No.” She shakes her head. “Seriously.”
“Gabby, stop.” I tell her the whole story, beginning to end. I watch her eyes as I tell it, noting all the highs and lows the emotional roller coaster takes her on in the process.
“An empty box?!” she bursts.
“I’m not finished. Stop interrupting.” She stays silent for the rest of the story, often times biting her lip to keep quiet. Finally, she leans back and licks her lips as her mind spins. “Well?” I ask.
She looks at me through the narrow slits of her eyelids before nodding slowly. “He passed,” she says, “but mostly for the bit about not taking no for an answer. It shows he’s not a pushover and I find male assertiveness and dominance sexually arousing in ways I don’t entirely understand.”
“Of course, you do,” I say, wrinkling my nose.
“Now.” She slaps her palm onto the table. “We need to address the elephant in the room.”
“Which is?”
“Well, obviously, there’s only one choice for your maid of honor,” she states. “You were mine, so it’s only fair that I’m yours. Agreed?”
I laugh. “Okay, first of all, I wasn’t your maid of honor. I was your witness because you and Ian eloped.”
She raises her hands in surrender. “Hey, I will settle for being your witness. It means I get to pick out my own dress.”
“Of course, you can be my maid of honor, Gabby,” I tell her. “Who else is there?”
I feel a presence over my shoulder and Gabby’s eyes grow wide.
“Who else indeed?”
His voice charges down my spine, shaking me back and forth. I grip the table in front of me and slowly look over my shoulder at him. “Charles…” I breathe, my eyes dropping down his body to admire his suit. “What are you doing here?”
“I was in the neighborhood,” he says, flashing his smile at me. He looks across the table. “Gabby, always a pleasure.”
She smiles up at him. “Right back at you, Charles.”
“Would you mind if I borrowed Alice for a moment?” he asks her.
“Go right ahead.”
I twist around to glare at her and try to kick her ankle under the table, but my toe connects with the metal bar beneath the table instead. I grit in sudden pain and she looks at me like the idiot I am.
Charles presents his hand to me. “Alice?” he says.
I push myself out of the booth without his aid. “What are you doing here, Charles?” I ask him again.
“Come with me,” he says. He walks across the diner and lingers next to the entrance until I begrudgingly follow him. He holds the door for me and I step outside onto the sidewalk.
An early autumn breeze chills me and I cross my arms about my chest to block it. Charles steps around me and leads me across the sidewalk towards his car.
“What’s going on, Charles?” I ask him, halting a few feet away from him.
“I would like to speak to you for a moment, in private,” he says as he pulls the backseat door open. “Please.”
“Charles—”
“Please.”
The force behind the word shakes me inside. I sigh and step closer to the car. My arm brushes against his body as I pass by him and I smell his faint cologne on the air. It briefly sends me back in time and I quiver softly as I slide into the seat.
“Hello, Ms. Hughes.”
I look up and see Harvey glancing back at me in the rearview mirror. “Hi, Harvey,” I greet him.
“You look wonderful,” he says with a smile.
“Thank you.”
Charles enters the car and closes the door behind him. “Would you excuse us, Harvey?”
“Right away, Mr. Kent.” Harvey presses a button and a black barrier slides up between the compartments.
I press myself as close to the door as possible to keep enough distance between the two of us. My heart wretches with crippling nostalgia as I remember the last moment I spent in this car. When I glance up, I notice him looking me up and down. “It’s a uniform,” I say, making note of my white waitress gear.
Charles smiles. “It’s no Faleuro gown, but you make it work.”
“What do you want, Charles?” I ask.
He pauses for a moment before reaching below his seat. A chill flows down my back when he rises again and he holds a black box in his hand. It’s the same kind of box he used to send me the dress five years ago, only a little smaller, and complete with the deep red ribbon tying it together.
“It wouldn’t have been appropriate to give this to you during your party,” he says as he lays the box onto my lap.
I grip it with trembling fingers. “You didn’t have to get me anything,” I say.
“I wanted to,” he says. He nudges the present closer to me with his fingers. “Go ahead.”
I hesitate for a moment before my curiosity gets the better of me. I slide the ribbon off the box and peel the lid back to reveal a wooden photo frame nestled in black tissue paper.
“Charles…” I breathe his name as I study the photo. It’s been five years since I’ve laid eyes on it. It’s the photo of me, standing against the hotel room windows in that blue dress, staring off into the city below. “What are you doing?” I ask him as I slowly catch my breath again.
His lips curl at my reaction. “I thought you might want to have it,” he says.
“It’s… beautiful,” I say as I trace a finger around the edge of the wooden frame, instantly recognizing the smooth flower petals carved into it from his mother’s vanity. “This is…”
“Yes,” he confirms.
“Thank you, Charles.”
He reaches across my lap quickly and snatches my left hand before I can react. I let him pull it closer to him as his warmth surges up my arm. It triggers me and my blood pounds through my body, awakening every part of me.
“Hmm…” he hums at he squeezes my ring between his fingers.
“I’m getting married,” I whisper slowly.
“I know.”
I look up at him. He keeps his grip on me and my heart beats faster every second. “Did she tell you?” I ask him.
He shakes his head once. “No, it was just obvious,” he says, his eyes still locked on my finger.
I open my mouth to speak, to tell him I’m sorry, but I bite my tongue as I think better of it. “He, uh—”
Charles drops my hand and pushes the car door open. I close my lips, slowly slide down the seat with the open present in hand, and step out onto the sidewalk after him.
“I’m happy for you, Alice,” he says I stand up.
“Are you?” I ask.
“Of course.”
I stare up into his eyes and I know that he’s lying. “Charles, you don’t have to pretend with me,” I say.
&n
bsp; “No one is pretending,” he says, holding my eyes. “Your happiness was always my priority, Alice.”
“Charles…”
“If you’ll excuse me, I must get back to work.”
I slink backward and step away from the car. “Okay.” He brushes past me and lowers himself back into the car. “Charles—” I say. He looks up at me with his hand gripping the door. “Thank you,” I say again. “For this.” I nod towards the black box in my hands.
His lip curls to one side. “Thank you, Alice,” he says before shutting the door.
I watch as the black car rolls off down the street and wait until it rounds the corner before returning to the diner.
I sit down in the booth across from Gabby. She eyes the black box, blinking repeatedly at it, as I slide it over to the far side of the table away from me. My entire body screams with energy as his power courses through me, tickling my fingers and toes.
“So…” Gabby breaks the silence. “Do you want to talk about that?”
I shake my head. “Not really,” I say weakly.
“Okay.” She taps her nails against the table for a few seconds. “How about now?”
“Not yet.”
She leans in. “Okay, how about now because I’m dying over here.”
I fall forward and cover my face with my hands. I can still feel the heat radiating off my body. The thrill of being near him, of feeling his skin, of smelling his scent — I can’t handle it. “He’s dating my mother,” I say against my fingers.
“I’m sorry — what?”
I sit back and take a deep breath. “Percy and I went to see her last week for my birthday and he was there.” The words spill off my lips like vomit, fast and without restraint. “They’ve been seeing each other for over a month.”
Gabby’s jaw drops. “And here we were yakking about marriage proposals when you were sitting here with this?!”
“I know — I know — but obviously it’s incredibly difficult for me to talk about, let alone think about.”
“Yeah, obviously.” Gabby reaches over and pulls the present closer to her. She glances inside the box and stares at the photo for a few moments. “Aww…” she says.
“What?” I ask.
“I’m just thinking about how sweet this present would be if it weren’t all creepy and weird now.”
Blind Girl: A Dark Billionaire Romance Page 13
