Authors: Gina Hummer
“Would you rather she stayed with us?”
“No, of course not. Look---- all I’m saying is that if you keep rescuing her every time she crashes, she’ll never stop hounding you. I mean hell---- she’s gotten this far in life without you.”
David was silent on the other end as Charlotte’s words sunk in. Charlotte was quiet, not sure if she had any words left on the subject.
“I’ll be home in a few minutes,” David said before the line went dead.
#
Charlotte was sitting on the couch and sipping a glass of Chardonnay in silence when she heard the front door creak. A lone table lamp illuminated the room. She waited for David to come in. His face was as wan and as tense as that night he’d shown up at her doorstep in the middle of the night to plead his case. So much had happened since then that it was easy to forget this weird air between them by the name of Olivia.
“Hey,” David said.
“How’d you get home?”
“Taxi.”
“You get Olivia all settled in?”
“Charlotte, it’s not like that.”
Charlotte dipped her head back and sighed. “David, I just can’t help but wonder why when Humpty Dumpty falls apart you feel obligated to put her back together again.”
“I told you----”
“I know, I know; she doesn’t have anybody.”
“Charlotte, please… I know it’s a lot for me ask you to put up with this on top of everything else, but I’m just trying to do the right thing.”
“David, believe me when I tell you that in many ways this does go against my nature, but if you and I are gonna have any kind of life together, you’ve got to cut her off.”
“I know, I know. Believe me, I know. And I’ve tried!” David flopped down on the couch next to Charlotte. “She’s just insidious.”
“Stop making excuses for her! She’s figured out how to play you like ten fiddles. Once you take the hard line and stick to it, she’ll stop.”
David dropped his head on Charlotte’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Charlotte.”
Charlotte shook her head and took a sip of wine.
“Me too.”
#
The green face of Charlotte’s alarm clock bore a hole in her face. When David had gone for a run Charlotte had crawled into bed, exhausted by the way the day had unfolded. She heard David come in and take a shower, and she held her breath, uneasy. Charlotte watched the minutes on the clock tick past, listening to David shut the water off, brush his teeth, and swish mouth wash around his mouth. The bathroom door opened and a flash of light hit Charlotte’s back. She was lying perfectly still and had squeezed her eyes shut. David’s feet sunk into the carpet, and he cleared his throat. He slipped into bed, pressing his naked body against Charlotte. The hot scent of Irish Spring and Jergens lotion enveloped Charlotte as David planted cool kisses on her neck. His hardness poked against her. She bit her lip. All she wanted was to turn around and beg David to screw her brains out until she forgot all about Olivia and his strange allegiance to her.
But she didn’t. Instead, Charlotte feigned deep breaths, the glowing green light of her clock trying to pry her eyelids open. David sighed and slumped against her before he rolled over to his side of the bed. Charlotte expelled her breath in a slow, silent stream. It was the first time she’d ever turned David down. It was the first time hadn’t felt like getting lost in his scent, his taste, his touch, his sound.
It was the first time Charlotte wanted to be alone.
#
“Morning.”
“Morning,” Charlotte said as she poured a cup of coffee from the pot David had made. He watched her as she mixed in cream and sugar.
“I can make you some eggs.”
Charlotte shook her head. “No thanks.”
“I think there’s a box of muffins in the pantry.”
“I’m not really hungry.”
“I don’t like things being so stiff between us.”
Charlotte drew circles on the counter with her fingers. “Me neither. But it is what it is.”
“How do we fix this?”
“I already told you.”
“You know William has me booked for a few meetings today, but I can cancel. We can hop on the bike, head to the beach…”
“I’ve actually got a lot of work to do today, so you should keep your meetings.”
David’s face fell, and he nodded, quiet for a moment. “Yeah, okay. I’ll let you get to it then.”
“Thanks.”
David’s gaze lingered on Charlotte before he quietly went outside to wait for the car that ferried him around town. Charlotte sipped her coffee in silence, the tension in her shoulders sliding away with each swallow. She took her time showering and dressing, afraid almost to get on with the business of the day. She opened her laptop and stared, lost in the black-and-white photo of the Eiffel Tower that was her desktop picture. Charlotte chewed on her thumbnail for a bit before she slammed the lid shut and grabbed her purse.
What the hell good is it to work for yourself if you can’t play hooky once in a while
? She queried herself as she put her sunglasses on. She stepped outside into another postcard-beautiful Southern California day. Feeling better already, Charlotte walked to her Jeep, keys jangling between her fingers. She’d put the key in the lock when she heard a clicking sound. Charlotte stopped and listened.
Click,
click, click
. There it was again. She whipped her head around and saw a photographer draped in camera equipment standing at the edge of her driveway, snapping away. Charlotte gasped and ducked into the Jeep, her heart pounding. She started the Jeep and screeched backward, trying to shield her face with one hand and maneuver the steering wheel with the other.
“Hey, come on, Charotica! Why don’t you smile for the camera?” the intruder yelled into the open window.
The invocation of the hated “Charotica” blew Charlotte’s top sky high. “Hey asshole! This is private property!” she screamed as the guy jammed his camera in her face, her sunglasses no match for the glare of camera flashes.
“I’m standing in the street, so that’s public property. What time is David getting home, huh? How long you guys been shackin’ up?”
Charlotte growled and peeled off down the street. She put her hand over her heart to try to slow its zealous rhythm. She took a deep breath, her mind racing with all sorts of sinister possibilities. How long had paparazzi been staking out her house? How on earth did they know where she lived? Charlotte turned on the radio, jacking it up to near ear-splitting levels.
If only drowning her feelings was as easy as listening to music.
CHAPTER 12
“Where’ve you been? I thought you had a lot of work to get through today.”
“I spent the afternoon at Santa Monica Pier. Went to the aquarium, checked out a photography exhibit. Had lunch.”
“Oh. Was it fun?”
Charlotte nodded and put her purse and keys on the coffee table and sat on the chair opposite the couch where David had been sitting, watching TV.
David turned the TV off and looked at her. “Charlotte, sweetheart. Talk to me. I hate it when you’re mad at me.”
“I’m not mad. I’m just…disappointed.”
“God. That’s worse.”
“David, one of the things I love most about you is how big your heart is. I mean, when I was walking around the pier today, I was thinking about when we were at the lake and how…
accommodating
you were. Wanting to know more about everyone, cooking and cleaning and just being so…
decent
.”
“You make it sound like I’ve got a disease or something.”
“No, David; nothing like that. It’s just that I hate to see you being taken advantage of, and that’s exactly what Olivia is doing ---- taking advantage of your big, wonderful open heart, and I’m just disappointed that you’re letting her.”
David reached for Charlotte’s hand and pulled her over to join him on the couch. He kissed her on the nose.
“I don’t want this to come between us.”
“David, I think you need to work out whatever it is with her. Figure it out.”
David pulled back. “What do you mean ‘figure it out’? What are you saying?”
Before Charlotte could answer, her BlackBerry started to ding from deep inside her purse. She rolled her eyes.
“Hold on. My editor’s been texting me all day. Let me see what she wants.”
David sighed and waited while Charlotte pulled out her phone. It was a message from Karen:
“Having a bad day Charotica? xoxo”
Charlotte clicked on the link Karen had sent and groaned. It was the picture of her from this morning when she yelled at the paparazzo---- mouth agape, nostrils flaring, fury seared into her forehead.
“CHAROTICA ---- HOPPIN’ MAD!” the headline screamed. The ensuing story speculated that David must have done something to unleash Charlotte’s wrath but didn’t say what, of course. Charlotte threw the BlackBerry aside, disgusted.
“What’s the matter?”
“There was a photographer outside the house this morning, and he took a really bad picture of me screaming at him to get lost. And now of course it’s all over the Internet.”
“Damn. Sorry.”
Charlotte rubbed her eyes and took a deep breath, suddenly too tired to move. “David, I need a little time to myself.”
“What?” David said, shocked and angry.
“There’s just so much to deal with between Olivia and the tabloids every time I turn around...”
David shook his head. “No. Charlotte, please. I already told you, I can walk away from all of this, but I can’t walk away from you.”
“I just need to get my head together. That’s all.”
“Don’t do this. Please.”
Charlotte’s blinked, and a tear ran down her face. She ran her palm against her cheek to stop the flow. “I’m going to take a shower and go to bed.” Charlotte rose from the couch, and David tugged on her hand, his fear radiating with each touch.
“So that’s it? We can’t talk about this some more?”
“I’m just so tired, David.”
Without another word Charlotte began to walk back toward the bathroom when David ran up behind her and grabbed her by the waist. He nuzzled her neck, and Charlotte intuitively leaned back against him. David began to rub Charlotte’s breast, and she moaned. His hand flicked over the top button of her jeans for a moment before he undid them and slid his hand into her underwear. Charlotte whimpered as he fingered her, pulling her against him. He turned her around and pressed her against the wall. He grabbed her lips with his, his hands stroking her nipples until they became stiff as diamonds beneath his frenetic touch. Charlotte flung his shirt over his head and did the same with her shirt before unhooking her bra, leaving the cups to flap around the sides. She guided David’s mouth to her breast, and David whimpered as his tongue made contact with her nipple. He stopped for a moment to push her jeans and underwear to the floor, commanding her to step out of them. His lips finding hers again, he unzipped his jeans and pushed them and his underwear down in one swift motion. David flicked one of Charlotte’s legs up and lifted her to meet him. As he plummeted into her, she screamed. He grunted as he continued his upward thrusts into Charlotte.
“I need you, Charlotte.” David panted into her ear.
Charlotte gulped and closed her eyes, letting the moment carry her away. She held David to her, too overcome to say anything. She felt the swell rush forth and clenched as it broke free. Within seconds, David, too tensed up and burst inside of her. They stood there for a few seconds, holding each other before David eased out of Charlotte. He pulled up his pants and handed Charlotte her shirt.
“I’m sorry,” he said sheepishly. “I shouldn’t have done that. Especially when you said you needed space. I just needed you.”
Charlotte pulled David to her and drew him into a kiss. “I wasn’t complaining.”
David touched his forehead to Charlotte’s. “I’ll call William. Stay with him. You take all the time you need,” he whispered.
They kissed again. “You’re amazing,” she said.
David shook his head. “No, I’m not. Everything in me is screaming to stay, but I’ll respect your wishes.”
“Thank you.”
“And no matter what, just don’t forget that I love you.”
“I know. I love you too.”
#
Charlotte tossed the towels from the bathroom into the laundry basket. She purposely didn’t look at David’s side of the counter, which he had depleted of his most basic toiletries the night before when he left for William’s: toothbrush, shaving gel, comb. A half-full bottle of Hugo Boss still stood guard over his mouthwash, razor cartridges, and the industrial- size bottle of body lotion Charlotte had picked up for him at the drug store. She went around the bedroom, plucking forlorn socks, shorts, and tee-shirts from all sorts of nooks and crannies. One thing she would say about David: housekeeping wasn’t his strong suit.
She was about to head to the washer when she snapped her fingers and went behind the bathroom door in search of her terry-cloth bathrobe. Her heart stopped when she spied one of David’s plaid shirts keeping the bathrobe company on the next hook. Charlotte dropped the laundry basket and reached out to the shirt, tears stabbing her eyes. She laughed. Why was this stupid shirt of all things making her cry? She reached out to touch it. The soft, worn fabric felt lush between her fingers, and Charlotte edged her nose beneath the folds to inhale David’s lingering scent. She unhooked the shirt and slid one arm and then the other into the limp sleeves, David suddenly all around her. Even though she’d asked him to leave, she missed him, missed him so much that it squeezed her insides and caused her to gasp from the pain. Charlotte grabbed a tissue from the box on the counter, dabbed at her eyes, and blew her nose. She picked up her basket and headed to the laundry room.
#
Charlotte swirled her spoon into the pint of soupy strawberry ice cream before she extracted a frozen chunk of fruit and popped it in her mouth. It had been almost two days since David’s departure, and for almost two days, Charlotte had puttered around the house and slept in his plaid shirt. It was no longer awash in David’s musk but rather in Charlotte’s funk. The TV was on a low hum, and Charlotte had been mindlessly flipping through the channels for the better part of the evening. She slurped up the rest of the ice cream and put the empty carton on the coffee table. She picked up the remote again and stopped when Olivia’s face filled the screen. She was being interviewed by someone on the red carpet. Charlotte turned the sound up.