Charlie wasn't at the table when Beth got back from the ladies room. She looked around the restaurant, but he wasn’t anywhere to be seen. Her heart hitched in her chest. Maybe he’d run off. Maybe this had all been part of some sick game he was playing, getting her hopes up and then ditching her.
Or maybe he was breaking into more cars. Or rooms. Maybe she was better off not knowing what he was doing.
Or maybe, just maybe, he’d gone off to the bathroom.
“Charlie said he had to run an errand,” Mr. Munoz said when Beth sat back down in her seat. His vague answer wasn't terribly reassuring.
One by one, people started leaving. It was starting to get late. But for some reason, the thought of going up to her room didn't sound appealing. There was too much going on in her head for her to sit up in bed, waiting for a knock on the door. She didn't even want to think about how she was going to sleep with a stranger so close. Was he planning on sleeping on the chair, or did he expect her to give up half the bed?
After her conversation with Isobel in the bathroom, Beth wasn't entirely sure which one she wanted.
What she needed was a little courage, a little determination. So, she headed toward the bar instead of the elevator.
Isobel and Jordan passed her on their way out. They looked so sweet together. Isobel's arm was tucked around Jordan’s side. When they stopped, Jordan tilted his head down on top of hers. Beth couldn't help but smile. They were good together.
“Are you going to be all right on your own?” Isobel asked. There was a world of meaning behind her concerned look.
“Yeah. I'm pretty sure that I can manage the 10 p.m. lounge crowd by myself,” Beth said.
“That's not what I meant.”
“I know. I'm good.”
Isobel gave her another intense look. “Are you sure?”
“I promise.” Beth shook her head and tried to laugh but it came out a stuttered sigh. “Take her to bed, Jordan.”
“Will do,” he said, starting to lead Isobel away. He stopped after a few steps and turned back. “Oh, Beth.”
“Yeah?”
“I really like Charlie. I'm glad he could finally make it to something.”
Beth forced the smile to stay on her face until Isobel and Jordan disappeared inside the elevator. Then her shoulders slumped, and she sighed for real.
She went to the lounge, and found a small table tucked into a corner. It was swallowed by shadow, the lights from the bar barely reaching it. The darkness suited her mood perfectly.
It took the waitress a few minutes to notice her.
“I'll have a Cosmopolitan,” Beth said, when she finally came to take her order.
“And a soda water,” a deep voice said behind the waitress. Charlie stepped into view. “I hope you don't mind if I join you.”
He pulled off his jacket and slung it over the back of the chair before he sat down.
Apparently it wasn't a question.
“Go right ahead,” she said. If he noticed the sarcasm in her voice, he didn't show it. “Did you get your errand done?”
He nodded.
Beth considered probing further, but decided against it. Maybe with something like this it would be better to have plausible deniability. Wasn't that what they called it in the movies?
“Good for you,” she said.
He looked at her but said nothing. The silence stretched on and on. Beth glanced down at her hands, then to the other tables in the lounge. Finally, she looked at the bar. She could feel Charlie's gaze on her, and as much as she didn't want to admit it, he was making her nervous. It felt as if he was looking inside her, studying her.
“So,” he said after an interminable minute had passed. “Talk to me about Charlie.”
Beth turned back to him, her eyes wide. “I thought you didn't need to know anything. You've been playing him all evening.”
“Not those details. Tell me how you came up with him.”
Beth didn't miss the command in his voice. He was a man used to asking questions and getting answers. For a second she thought of tossing off some flip remark, but then thought better of it. This day had drained the fight out of her.
“I first came up with Charlie when I was in the seventh grade.”
His brows shot up, and Beth felt a little thrill of accomplishment. She wouldn't have guessed that there was much in this world that still managed to surprise him.
“Billy Demers asked Hailey Cranston to the spring dance instead of me. I didn't want anyone to know how upset I was, so I invented Charlie. I told Hailey it didn't matter because I already had a boyfriend who lived one town over.”
“But you can't bring a pretend boyfriend to the spring dance.”
“No, you can't. That was why Charlie ended up having a karate competition that night.”
“Karate? I guess I'm pretty hardcore.”
“That you are.”
The waitress arrived with their drinks. Charlie pressed a bill into her hand and told her to keep the change before Beth could reach inside her purse. Going by the look on the woman's face, Charlie was a pretty nice tipper.
“After that I pulled him...I mean you...out of my pocket whenever I needed to save face. There were a couple of times in high school. One very memorable night in college. You once even saved me from going on a blind date with a co-worker’s cousin.”
“I'm glad I could be of service.”
Beth raised her drink in mock salute to him. He smiled and took a sip of his own.
“Isobel was the only one who knew the truth. She's the only person I've ever trusted to see me, warts and all.”
He quirked a brow.
“They're metaphorical warts,” she said.
“Of course.”
Beth downed the rest of her drink. She looked down at the empty glass. “I could probably use another one of these.”
Charlie waved his hand to get the waitress's attention.
He ordered and paid again before she could say anything. She wasn't sure she liked the idea of being in debt to him. On the other hand, a couple of drinks were the least that he owed her.
He turned back to focus on her. His blue eyes had darkened in the dim light. The flicker of the candle on the table shimmered in his irises. Shadows fell across his cheeks, calling his features into stark relief. Damn, he was hot.
For a second, she didn't care what kind of man he was. She didn't care what he'd done in the past. All she wanted was to feel those lips again as they moved against hers. Maybe this time he'd press them against her neck. Or her earlobe. She was a sucker for earlobe kisses.
Moving lips. Crap. He'd just said something and she'd missed it because she'd been too busy making out with him in her mind.
“Excuse me?” she said.
He gave the wolfish smile again. Beth had the feeling he knew exactly where her mind had been.
“I was just wondering what made you bring up Charlie this time,” he said.
Beth rolled her eyes dramatically. “That's a story that I usually wouldn't tell until I was three or four drinks into the evening.”
“I have all night.”
He leaned back in his chair. His arms hung at his sides, loose and languid, but Beth could still make out the contour of muscle underneath his white oxford shirt. Those butterflies started fluttering again. Maybe another drink wasn't such a good idea after all.
“Spencer and I used to date,” she said.
“So you’ve said.”
“It didn't end well.”
He waited silently, and Beth wondered how much to tell him. He picked up his glass and took another sip. His eyes never left hers. Damn, there was something about that look that made her want to tell him everything. All of her secrets.
“It was a big mistake from beginning to end. Isobel warned me against it, but as usual, I didn't listen.”
“There's no shame in making your own mistakes,” he said.
“Yeah, well. I guess that makes me pretty shameless then.”
He smil
ed. The butterflies multiplied.
“Anyway, about a week after our breakup I heard that Spencer was dating again,” she said. “No problem, right? But then he kept dating. And I wasn't. Sometimes I would run into him and his flavor of the week at Isobel's. Sometimes I'd just see pictures.”
“And you got jealous,” he said.
Beth's drink arrived, and she thanked the waitress.
“Not of Spencer. I didn't want to get back together with him or anything. The whole thing wasn't even a problem until Isobel got engaged. Then suddenly people were asking me who I was going to bring as my date to the wedding. My mother. Spencer. Everybody. That's when Charlie made his grand return.”
“There wasn't anybody, not in all that time?” he asked.
“Nobody that I liked enough to go out with,” she said a little too emphatically. She winced and tried again. “I could have had dozens of guys, I'm sure. But I didn't like any of them. I'd already made that mistake when I went out with Spencer. I didn't want to repeat it.”
Beth took a sip of her Cosmo. It was good. Really good.
“Besides, Charlie was supposed to get everyone off my back. He always had before. This time he kind of took on a life of his own. People kept asking questions, and I kept answering. The lies got bigger and bigger until suddenly I found myself bargaining with a car thief in a hotel parking lot.”
“Blackmailing, not bargaining.”
She waved her hand in front of her. “Semantics.”
His smile was wide and genuine.
“So there it is—my life story,” she said. “I'm guessing that you're not too keen on telling me yours?”
He slowly shook his head, his lips pressed tightly together.
She took another sip. A part of her wanted to push for more. It was only polite, after all, to give up a little dirt after someone spilled their guts. But somehow she knew that even if she begged, he wouldn't answer.
She looked down and saw that her glass was empty. Again. She looked up. His eyes were on it too.
“I'm not really a lush,” she said. “I don't really drink much at all.”
Her head was feeling floaty. All of her tension had been replaced by a warm, bubbly feeling that was far more pleasant.
“I can tell.”
Beth didn't hear any sarcasm in his voice. Or maybe she was too buzzed to notice it. She didn’t think so. He didn’t seem to judge her. She hadn't once noticed that familiar look of disappointment in his eyes. Maybe that was why she liked him so much.
And she did. Dear God, she'd finally found a man she liked, and he was probably wanted in three states. Her mother would be so proud.
If only he was the gigolo that Isobel thought that he was. At least that would be a step up.
Beth couldn’t stop the laugh before it escaped her lips. Charlie’s look turned questioning.
“Nothing. It's nothing.”
He didn't have to press, not with words. He just leaned forward in his chair, and something about his stare made her want to talk more.
“I was just thinking how much Fate likes having fun with me,” she said.
“You believe in Fate?” he asked.
“Not really,” she said. “But it seems she certainly believes in me.”
***