You're Still the One (21 page)

“Give him a chance?” Her father scoffed. “Princess, I’ve given him nothing but chances. And I know exactly who Charlie Tucker is. He had one job this summer—to take care of you and keep you out of trouble—and he couldn’t even do that!”

Arabella’s world tilted. “What…?”

Her vision flooded. She shook her head, sure she’d misunderstood. He’d
promised
her.

“What do you mean he had a job?” Her voice broke, and she closed her eyes. “Please…please, tell me that you didn’t buy my internship.”

Ella tightened her grip on the phone, waiting for the words, but for the first time since he called—maybe for the first time in his entire life—her dad was silent.

She tried again. “What. Did. You. Mean?” Swallowing past the lump of fear and hurt, she begged him to answer. “Just tell me you didn’t do it. Tell me you didn’t lie to me.”

“Yes, Arabella. I helped get you the internship.” Ella bowed forward at the waist. “Strange Wheel used to be mine, or partially mine. I was a silent financial backer, so my name wouldn’t have been linked in anything you would’ve read.”

No, it hadn’t been. She had thoroughly researched the studio before applying, and the only name she’d ever seen was Mike Hebert. Mike was the engineer who had interviewed and hired her, and the one who’d met her on her first day before handing her off to Charlie.

Charlie.
How stupid could she have been?

“After you applied,” he continued, “the guys down there notified me. Of course we hired you. You’re my daughter. If this was how you wanted to spend your summer, I fully supported it. Strange Wheel is an impressive setup and, despite what you may think, I believe in your talent, Arabella. You have a lot to offer any company you work for. But, since you applied with your mother’s name, I assumed you didn’t want me involved. So I sold my half of the company.”

Ella blew out a long, slow breath. “Sold it to Charlie, you mean.”

“Yes.” Fire infused that one word, and she used her dad’s anger to fuel her own. “The night of Eden’s launch, I approached Tucker and asked him to buy me out. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. Whatever romantic fantasy you’re spinning in your head about that man, stop it now. He’s lying to you.”

Words were powerful. They could build a person up or decimate in a blow. As her dad paused to take another breath, the ground shifted beneath Arabella’s feet.

“Charlie has understood the situation the entire time. The only reason he’s spending time with you at all is because I’m bribing him. I agreed to sit on the board of his foundation and made a hefty contribution, but after this disaster, I have half a mind to demand a refund!” 

Chapter Twenty

She was an idiot. A lovesick fool who’d been lying to herself from the very beginning. She projected onto Charlie what she wanted to see, the fictional creation she’d made up in her mind. He’d told her all along who he really was, the bad boy of country music, and she’d stubbornly refused to believe it.

She was a fool no more.

“No, Dad, that’s not necessary.” Realizing she now lay slumped on the floor in nothing but a rumpled sheet scented with their lovemaking, Arabella gripped the cotton and clumsily staggered to her feet. Her clothes were in a forgotten pile near the bed. “I’m under no romantic delusions here. Charlie and I
are friends. That’s all we ever were. The kiss you see in the pictures…” She swallowed the burn of betrayal. “It happened, but it didn’t mean anything.”

The words tasted like bile on her tongue, but she pushed on.

“But you know what
does
mean something? My own father going behind my back.” She snatched her jeans from the floor and began shimmying them up her legs. “I specifically asked you not to interfere…and you lied to me. How many times, Dad? How many times did I come to you, telling you what an incredible opportunity this was, and asking you point-blank if you had anything to do with it? Huh? How many?”

Unsurprisingly, he didn’t answer.

“Too many,” she said for him. “And every single time you said no.”

Facing the wall in case Charlie returned, Arabella shucked the sheet and yanked her shirt on over her head. Feeling stronger with clothes on, like they were somehow made of chain metal, she sat in the desk chair near where she’d thrown her boots in a fit of passion. Last night seemed like a lifetime ago.

“Princess, I love you.” The starch was now gone from her dad’s voice, and he suddenly sounded tired, older than his years. In that moment, he was like a stranger. “I won’t apologize for looking out for you. You’re upset now, but one day you’ll see. You’ll understand I was only trying to be a good father.”

Arabella huffed humorlessly. “A good father would’ve believed I could do it on my own.” Tears fell in earnest now, and she let them run unhindered. She had zero pride left, so why did it matter? Her one summer of independence and freedom had been completely manufactured…just like the relationship she’d thought she had been building with Charlie.

As if she’d summoned him with her thoughts, the man
she’d come to consider her lover, her
friend,
appeared in the doorway. He took one look at her red eyes and tear-stained cheeks and made a move to come near, but she threw out her arm, stopping him with a look.

Warm hazel eyes, once as familiar as her own, were closed to her now. She didn’t dare trust the hurt she saw in their depths.

“No one has any faith in me at all, do they?” she mused aloud. When both men made noises of disagreement, Ella leveled Charlie with a glare and spoke to her dad. “I need time to think things over. Do whatever you think is best with the media, but don’t forget what I said about Life & Lyrics. Those kids deserve that money.” Charlie went stock-still. “I’ll be in touch before I come home.”

Not bothering with a good-bye, she disconnected the call and shoved her feet into her soft brown cowboy boots. They were her favorite pair, but after last night, they’d have to be donated. There was no way she could ever look at them again and not think about Charlie. How he’d held her on the dance floor. How he’d made her feel special and loved. How she’d been a fool the entire time.

Rapping her knuckles on the desktop, she pressed her lips together and gave a final nod of acknowledgment to her monumental embarrassment and faulty intuition. Then, she turned to Charlie.

…

There comes a time in every man’s life when he reaches a crossroads. A chance to choose between two paths. One is unknown, filled with potential struggles that demand growth and change, but could lead to new beginnings. The other is familiar, grooved with well-worn ruts and established twists, muddy holes and isolation. The path that, while lonely, fit like a glove.

Charlie was standing at his own crossroads, right there in his bedroom, and he could either choose to man up and admit the truth—that yes, he’d made the agreement with her dad, and he should’ve told her sooner, but that he hadn’t lied about how he felt—
or
he could take the easy route and hurt Arabella now, knowing that he was saving her from potential ruin.

“Tell me the truth, Charlie. Is that really all I ever was to you? An assignment?” The devastation in her wide brown eyes nearly brought him to his knees. “Was that why you asked me to move in? Why we’ve spent so much time together? So you could keep a close eye on me?”

He hesitated. The unknown path was tempting. It destroyed him letting her think he didn’t care. That he truly was the emotionless playboy the rest of the world believed. But in the end, this wasn’t about him. It was about Arabella and what was best for her.

The truth was that if it weren’t for Stone’s
assignment,
Charlie probably wouldn’t have done those things. Not at first. And any illusions he may’ve held about a future life together were crushed in the wake of that tabloid article shaming her. So, trusting his instincts and ignoring his roiling stomach
,
he simply said, “I’m sorry.”

Arabella threw back her head in a humorless laugh. “You
knew
how important this internship was to me, how proud I was that I’d gotten it on my own.” She shook her head. “You m
ust’ve been laughing at me the whole time.”

“No!” There was protecting her from the truth, and then there was allowing her to believe a lie about who she was at her core. “Arabella, you’re incredible. Without you, Life & Lyrics would never—”

But she didn’t let him finish. “Last night, and all the nights before that, tell me…was that just pity sex?”

Charlie blanched. “Are you fucking serious?”

She quirked an eyebrow, telling him with defiance that she was, and he clenched his fists at his sides. They were on dangerous ground. She was spiraling hard, and there was nothing he wanted more than to pull her into his arms and show her exactly how he felt, to prove—with his lips, his tongue, and his hands—how badly he wanted her. But then, there
was
one thing he wanted more than all that. He wanted to keep her safe, which they’d both learned meant staying as far away from him as possible.

Arabella deserved to be happy and to live her life without her private moments being held up for the world to see as entertainment.

Charlie linked his hands behind his neck. “Regardless of how or
why
any of this began, you and I are friends, Arabella. You have to believe that. Trust me when I say that when I took you to my bed, I wanted you there.”

He held her gaze, needing her to see the truth, but tears continued to fall. “That’s the thing, Tucker. I don’t trust you. Not anymore.”

The words were a sucker punch. He’d really lost her.

Funny, when he’d woken up that morning, he had a hunch this moment was coming. Not the scandal or photos, obviously, but the good-bye. That didn’t stop the pain from slicing through him, though. It cut like a razor blade, through sinew and bone, leaving no organ unharmed. His chest convulsed. His heart felt like it was bleeding out. And his stomach revolted at the thought of watching her walk out his front door and never returning.

Charlie’s arms physically ached with the need to hold her and kiss away her tears, but denying himself was the right thing to do.

“I need to leave.” Arabella nodded once to herself and then rolled her shoulders before walking purposefully toward his bedroom door.

Panic lit his body, and in two strides, he was blocking her exit. “No. We should talk.” He licked his lips and frantically searched her eyes. “Don’t you think? Because I do. I think we should talk. Let me make us some coffee, and then we can figure out what to do next.”

A voice screamed inside his head, asking him what in the hell he was doing. This was what he
wanted
to happen. She was supposed to leave and get over him. Rambling and keeping her here only prevented the inevitable—but Charlie couldn’t help it. The cold, detached look in Arabella’s once loving eyes terrified him.

“I can’t right now,” she told him, her gaze focused just beyond his shoulder. “Please, let me pass.”

Charlie never felt so lost. Her small voice shook, and he realized he was acting like an animal. Was his plan to
force
her to stay? Relenting, he shifted to move, but then a horrible thought had him right back in front of her.

“Tell me I’ll see you again. The internship doesn’t end for another week. Tell me that if I let you walk out my door right now, you won’t disappear.”

A spark entered those emotionless eyes and a sarcastic smile curved Arabella’s lips. “Don’t worry, Tucker. Stones don’t quit. They may lie, and apparently they bribe, but they don’t quit.” She glanced at him. “I’ll see the internship through.”

He nodded, that small dose of relief inflating his lungs. Seven days wasn’t much, but it gave him time to figure out how to minimize the damage and possibly salvage their friendship. The odds were laughable, but he had to try. This couldn’t be the end. “And the duplex?”

She sighed. “I have no immediate plans to move out, if that’s what you’re asking. Not until the end of the week. Now, can you please let me pass?”

Taking what victory he could from the moment, Charlie moved aside. The careful way she avoided touching him twisted him deeply, but he held himself together until he heard the soft
click
of the front door closing.

Then, and only then, did he allow himself to break.

Chimes went off like crazy in his pocket. Arianne, Tyler, probably Stone. At that point, Charlie didn’t care. The only thing that mattered was the shattered look in Arabella’s eyes when she’d walked away.

Hours passed. Shadows moved. Tyler came and went. An official response was slapped together, without Charlie’s input, and scheduled to be sent to the media outlets in the morning.

Through it all, Arabella’s side of the duplex remained empty.

Where was she? Where had she gone? In spite of everything, he knew she wouldn’t have fled. She said she wouldn’t leave, so she was still in Magnolia Springs,
somewhere.
But he had no way of knowing if she was lost, lonely, or hurt…hurt worse than when she’d left, anyway. She ignored his calls, sent them to voicemail, and by ten o’clock that night, Charlie was strung so tight, he was ready to snap.

I need to know you’re okay.
The text message mocked him as he typed, showing him how low he’d fallen. He was resorting to the form of communication he loathed.
Just tell me that and I’ll leave you alone for now.

A minute later, his phone chirped, shocking the shit out of him. Charlie nearly dropped the damn thing trying to read Arabella’s response, and when he did, new worries arose.

I’m at Robicheaux’s with Sherry and Colby.

One word barreled into his mind—Evan.

Evan worked at Robicheaux’s. Was that who Arabella had really been searching for? Or, if not, had the waiter been on shift and hung around to comfort her? Jealousy tore through him as he imagined another man drying her tears. Dressed in those stupid pants like some khaki-wearing knight, holding her hand as he slid a glass of wine under her nose.

The what-ifs were gonna kill him.

But he didn’t text back. Charlie honored his word. Closing his fist around the phone, his one lifeline to the woman who had changed his life that summer, he sprawled out on the sofa, prepared to stay there all night until Arabella was home safe and sound on the other side of that thin wall.