Beyond the Orange Moon (Mathews Family Book 2) (36 page)

Feeling Grace’s eyes on her, Lucy finally crumbled and began to cry into her hands. It had been days since she’d allowed herself to cry like this. She’d done everything she could to keep herself busy, but now, seeing her belongings sitting in front of her just opened the floodgates that she’d been holding closed.
 

“Honey,” Grace said with a heavy sigh.
 

“I don’t want a lecture, Grace,” Lucy sobbed into her palms. “I just want to be strong and move on. I don’t want to hear ‘I told you so.’”

Grace wrapped her arms around Lucy. “I’m not saying ‘I told you so.’ I’m just hugging you,” she said, and lay her head on Lucy’s shoulder.
 

Lucy sniffled and squeezed Grace’s arm. Just like all the times before, that gentle arm was her lifeline. That perfect gesture of friendship was her warm reminder that she was never alone, even in the times when she felt as though she was.
 

“How could he just toss my things out like that? Is that a garbage bag?”

Grace chuckled. “Yes, it’s one of those giant, black garbage bags, but I think that’s more of a testosterone thing than a cruel message to you. Men don’t think like us, remember? That’s probably what he uses for his own clothes when he goes on trips.”

Lucy laughed a little at that theory. She lifted her head and leaned it against Grace’s. “I think it’s a message. I broke his trust, his heart, and I weaseled my way into his son’s life and acted like his mother when I’m not. I’m a terrible person.”

“You think you’re a terrible person? Stop being so hard on yourself. You love that little boy. There’s nothing wrong with that. And, no, you’re not his mother, but you’re the closest thing he’s ever had to one and that counts for something.”

“Why are you being so nice to me?” Lucy asked. “I’ve been a lousy friend to you.”

“Yeah,” Grace said, and laughed. She snuck a look at Lucy and frowned. “I think if there was ever an award for lack of subtlety, I would get it. I’m pretty sure I could’ve said my opinion differently.”

Lucy giggled. “No. Subtlety is definitely not your thing, girlfriend.”

“If it makes you feel better, he looks like shit,” Grace said, and ran a hand through Lucy’s hair. “I mean, he’s still fucking gorgeous”—she smirked at Lucy— “but he looks about as terrible as a Mathews man can look.”
 

“That’s not endearing,” Lucy said, and frowned. “Did he say anything?”

Grace shook her head. “Not really. He handed the bag over and asked if I would make sure you got it. He seemed to be struggling just being here, so I simply thanked him and let him leave.”
 

Lucy pondered that for a minute. She looked at the sea of clothes on her floor and sighed.
 

“You know what?” Grace said. “Why don’t you go for a run and I’ll finish with this mess. By the time you get back, it will all be gone and forgotten.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Lucy said, shaking her head. “It’s my mess.”

“I know that, but I want to. When you get back, we’ll drown our sorrows in wine and Ryan Gosling, okay?”

Lucy stared at her best friend. “I love you,” she whispered, and tried to control her quivering chin.
 

Grace squeezed Lucy’s hand. “I love you, too, girly.”

* * *

Done with the stuffy business meeting, Charlie loosened his tie and unbuttoned his shirt at the neck. Now that the deal had been made—and, yes, Mike had been right; they’d gotten the contract to start putting Marshall and Smith banks up all over the state—it was time to relax and drink.

Time for all the professional bullshit to be put aside and for men to just be men.
 

He looked out over the crowd in the bar and frowned. Even though it was more relaxed, this was the part of closing the deal that he hated. It was just a bunch of men drinking and telling crude jokes. He just wanted to go home.
 

But Lucy wasn’t there waiting for him, and that thought nearly killed him with every drink.
 

Jonah clinked his beer bottle against Charlie’s and gave him a faint smile. “Got the deal,” he said, snapping Charlie out of his sad thoughts.
 

Charlie smiled back. “You did a good job, Jonah. You have a way with numbers and schmoozing, man. Not a lot of people know how to mix the two.”

Jonah nodded, laughing. “It’s a gift.”
 

“Don’t let it get to your head, now,” Charlie joked, and sipped his beer.
 

“Hey,” Mike cut in, “Stevens’ drunk ass wants us all to go out on the patio. Apparently, he sees some women he thinks he can pick up.”

Phillip Stevens: Marshal and Smith bigwig. He was a wealthy husband and father who also happened to be a balding, pompous dickhead. He was the one Charlie liked the least. He’d never respected a cheater, but after he lost Meredith, he’d loathed cheating husbands even more; they had what he didn’t and they threw it away just to feel important.
 

Charlie looked at Jonah and rolled his eyes. “No thanks,” he said.
 

Mike leaned closer to Charlie. “Kid, I know you got a bad hurt right now, but get your ass out on that patio. This is the important part, too. We’re friends with these guys and we get their money, but we can lose it just as fast as we got it.”

Jonah smirked and stood up. “I hate it when my job forces me to drink and pick up women.”

Charlie stood slowly and tossed some cash down on the table. He followed the group outside and sat down along the railing that separated the patio from the sidewalk. The fresh air made him feel a lot better, soothing the ache in his chest.

Within seconds, Stevens had flagged a group of women over to their table and promised to buy them all drinks. As they dragged their chairs over, Charlie inched closer to the railing. He wanted nothing to do with this.
 

“Charlie, you need a shot,” Don Seymour yelled, to which Charlie kindly refused.

Seymour was an okay guy. Thankfully, he was above Stevens in the corporation and seemed to dislike him as much as Charlie did. That aside, Charlie still treaded carefully.
 

“What’s your story, Mathews?” Stevens slurred. “You’ve turned down every shot. You’re not pussy-whipped at home, are you?”

Charlie smirked at that. He wanted to knock him out of his chair, but he could feel Mike’s eyes on him. “Not me,” he said, and raised his beer in the air.
 

“Hey,” Seymour drawled, “he doesn’t have to do a shot. Give him a break, Stevens.”

Stevens raised his hands defensively. “I’m kidding,” he said with a chuckle. “Just a friendly joke.”

Charlie could see Jonah tense across from him. He raised his eyebrows at his younger brother in a silent
Let it go
. There would be no Mathews brawls tonight. If Ben had been there, of course, it would have played out differently.
 

“Is he always like this?” the brunette sitting next to Charlie whispered.
 

Charlie gave a small nod and took a drink from his beer.
 

“I’m Klarissa,” she said, and held out her hand.

“Charlie,” he mumbled, and shook her hand.
 

He met Jonah’s stare again and rolled his eyes, to which Jonah nodded back in understanding. Charlie didn’t want anything to do with this Klarissa. She didn’t look like Lucy, sound like Lucy, and her smell was all wrong.
 

 
“If I do a shot, will you do it with me?” Klarissa asked, sneaking a peek at Charlie’s ring finger.
 

He hadn’t put his ring back on. Removing it had been hard enough the first time and he refused to go through that again. Nevertheless, that empty finger seemed to encourage Klarissa.

Without getting an answer, she reached out to the middle of the table and grabbed two tequila shots. The last time he’d done a tequila shot, a very pregnant Meredith had found him on the floor. She’d refused to speak to him for three days after that.
 

“C’mon, you pansy,” Stevens garbled. “It’s one fucking shot.”

“Jesus Christ,” Charlie said, exasperated, and took the shot from her hand.
 

“Atta boy!” Seymour yelled, almost as incoherently as Stevens.
 

 
Klarissa gave him a kittenish smile and pressed her glass to his. “Cheers,” she said seductively.
 

Charlie shook his head and closed his eyes. He did the shot and slammed the glass back down on the table. He felt his face blanch as he reached for a lime and sucked hard.
 

Before he could open his eyes, he felt a finger sliding down his arm, making slow circles. He opened his eyes to see Klarissa staring at him with a look that screamed sex.
 

“You’re all man under that shirt,” she said in a low voice.
 

Ignoring her, Charlie pulled his arm away and shook his head. He brought his bottle to his mouth and turned to look out at the sidewalk … where he locked eyes with Lucy.
 

Lucy
.
 

Out of breath, sweaty, wearing running shorts and a tank top, she pulled out her earbuds and looked from him to Klarissa. With shock and devastation in her watery, blue eyes, she inhaled sharply, as if she had just been kicked in the stomach.
 

He was positive that’s what it felt like for her.

For him, however, everything seemed to freeze. The loud laughter and sounds of glasses clinking together … it was all gone, replaced by a ringing in his ears. He had no idea what to do.
 

After what seemed like hours of just staring, her eyebrows drew together as her lips began to quiver. She seemed to struggle as she lifted her chin stoically and tried to push through whatever she was feeling.
 

“Oh, shit,” Charlie heard Jonah mumble. “That’s not good.”

“Well, damn,” Mike grumbled.
 

“What’s not good?” Klarissa asked, wrapping her hand around Charlie’s bicep.
 

Charlie looked down at Klarissa’s hand, then lifted his gaze back to Lucy. He shook his head no, as if to say
This isn’t what it looks like
, but he knew she’d already made up her mind, and it wasn’t in his favor.

What the hell did it matter, anyway? They were done; he’d made that perfectly clear.
 

Lucy drew in one more painful breath that nearly killed Charlie, because, really, he could feel it, too. She closed her eyes and turned around to go back in the direction she came from.
 

When Charlie could no longer see her, he grabbed for another shot. He raised one brow to Jonah, who was looking at him with concern.
 

“Fuck it, right?” Charlie said, and threw back the shot.
 

“Right,” Jonah said quietly, but his expression said different.
 

Chapter Seventeen

Lucy wiped down the counter at the café and tried to ignore the constant ache in her chest. Whenever she didn’t feel that ache, however, it usually meant her stomach was turning instead. The night before, the two hit her all at once and it literally made her sick.
 

It had been days since she’d seen Charlie and the woman who’d had her hands all over him, but the realization stayed with her every second: Charlie had moved on. Not only was he done with her, but he was also out drinking and picking up women. Had she really misjudged him that much?
 

She stopped wiping the counter and removed her apron. She still had to send the cupcakes off for the benefit tomorrow, which meant her day was far from over. Fortunately, Lydia was helping her with the final steps.
 

“Are you about done here?” Lydia asked from the kitchen doorway. “I think I have everything all set back here. I’m going to start bringing out the boxes.”

Lucy turned and smiled the same fake smile she’d been trying to keep on her face for days. “Yep. I’m just waiting on Dylan to get here so I can load everything up for her. Go ahead and start bringing them out.”

Lydia regarded her for a moment. “Okay,” she finally said, and headed back into the kitchen.
 

Lydia and Grace could surely see through the fake smile, but they left her alone, not acknowledging her heartache verbally. Nevertheless, a look can say a thousand unspoken words. Whether she was at work or at home, they hovered and looked at her the way Lydia was looking at her now. Sometimes she just wanted to yell at them that she’d rather they just say whatever they were thinking. Their looks were starting to annoy her.
 

She looked up when she heard a tap on the glass. It wasn’t just Dylan, though; it was Dylan, Jonah, and someone else she didn’t know. She remained frozen until Dylan gave her a pleasant smile and a wave.
 

She hadn’t seen Dylan since before everything went terribly wrong. She had actually been surprised by the fact that Dylan hadn’t canceled either order. She’d put off buying the supplies because she was sure that was coming. It never did, though, so she went on with the order.