Chapter 4
She shouldn't be nervous about this dinner, especially since everything was going according to plan so far. Chef Marco was in her kitchen with his crew whipping up what smelled like an amazing meal while Charlotte had set up her dining room table so it would look perfect. Her friends had been texting her all day and seemed to be just as excited as she was.
Can't wait for the best dinner I've ever had.
Can I come over a few minutes early and go through your shoe closet?
You're going to be the prettiest date of all the dates!
She saved her biggest smile for that last one, which came from Aiden via his father.
It was all good and fine so why was she so nervous? She wracked her brain, thinking about something she may have left off her list or forgot to do. But every thought kept going back to one person: Jordan King.
To say she had been enamored with him would be an understatement. She had paid for dinner with him and had invited her friends to join her. It wasn't like this was some romantic candlelit meal. And yet, she couldn't stop thinking about the way he had jumped off the stage and gallantly swooped in to plant a kiss on her hand, or the way he smiled and winked at her, leaving her breathless.
But every time she thought of Jordan, her mind jumped to that stupid Boyfriend Box in the back corner of her storage closet with that stupid helmet from Declan Reed. The thought made her angry at both Declan and herself. She needed to let go of that someday.
The sound of the doorbell broke her out of her latest trip down memory lane, and she did one last quick check of herself in her bedroom mirror before heading through the living room to answer the door.
"Charlotte!" Aiden exclaimed cheerfully as soon as she opened it. "I brought these for you!"
The little boy stuck his hand out with a bouquet of roses almost as big as him.
"You are the perfect gentleman, Aiden," she said, grabbing them before he could drop the heavy bouquet.
"My dad told me I was supposed to bring you flowers since you were my date, so I picked those out."
She gave a smile to Adam, who was standing behind his son. "Your father was absolutely right and you did an excellent job," she told the young boy, holding her hand out to him. "Should we put these in some water?"
Aiden nodded and she pulled him into the living room where she grabbed a large vase from a shelf by the television.
"If you guys would like something to drink, the bar is set up in the corner over there." Charlotte pointed with her flowers to bottles of liquor and her fancy highball glasses that she only pulled out on special occasions. "Aiden, I got you a special Detroit Pirates cup for tonight and there's some apple juice in the fridge. Want to follow me?"
"Awesome!"
She and her date headed for the kitchen with his mother following behind them wearing what Charlotte now noticed was very questionable footwear.
"Rachel, if you go down that hall, second door on the left is my bedroom. I promise I have shoes in my closet that are much better than what you're wearing."
The woman gave her a knowing smirk. "I'm wearing Cookie Monster slippers. I'm sure whatever you have will be more appropriate for this dress."
"I gave those to her for Christmas," Aiden explained.
"Once again, proving you are an amazing gentleman," Charlotte said.
The two of them deftly maneuvered around the chefs in her kitchen to get some water for her vase. She had to admit that she actually couldn't remember the last time anyone bought her flowers, and she wasn't sure if it was sweet or pathetic that she finally got some from a six-year-old.
Charlotte put the flowers on her coffee table in the living room and left the boys to check on Rachel, who came out of her closet with a strappy pair of black Jimmy Choo shoes.
"Those look much better."
"It's not hard to compete with Cookie Monster slippers when you have a shoe collection like that." Rachel started to head for the bedroom door. "You coming?"
Charlotte shook her head. "I just need to refresh my lipstick. I'm on my way."
Her guest gave her a knowing smile as if she thought that Charlotte was stalling to make sure she looked perfect, which was actually the case. But this definitely was still not a date.
Charlotte had just turned the bathroom light off when she heard the doorbell ring again, and she took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves before telling herself there was nothing to be nervous about. She looked out to see that Adam had already answered the door and was introducing himself and Rachel to Jordan King, captain of the Detroit Pirates, who was currently standing in her living room.
Charlotte walked out of the bedroom and down the hall, growing more confident as each step of her three-inch heels made a decisive "click" on her dark hardwood floors. The sound got Jordan's attention and he turned, a smile growing bigger on his lips as she got closer.
"Miss Charlotte Stone," he said, bowing slightly as if he was Fitzwilliam Darcy and this was some damn Jane Austen novel.
"Mr. King, I presume," she replied demurely.
He walked over to her and gave her a polite peck on the check. "I hope I'm not running late."
"Not at all," she said. "Dinner is almost ready, and you can give me your coat and help yourself to the bar over there in the corner."
Jordan smiled and handed her a dark sheepskin coat with a polite "Thank you," before heading to the bar she had meticulously set up.
"These look really cool," he said as he reached for one of her cut-glass tumblers. "Anything you recommend, Adam?"
"Charlotte stocked the bar with some good stuff so you can't go wrong." Adam looked very proud of himself for actually answering with a coherent sentence.
Jordan got some ice from the bucket and some bourbon from the shelf, his muscles flexing under his well-tailored suit. Not that Charlotte was paying attention to his body so closely. Except she was.
"So how do you all know each other?" Jordan asked.
"We actually all sit together at the arena," she explained.
Jordan turned and smiled at Charlotte. "The dead guy's tickets, eh?"
"Right, those tickets."
Charlotte could feel herself getting warmer. He not only remembered the fact that she got those tickets the night they met a few weeks ago but seemed to find his embarrassment that night more amusing now. Perhaps he wasn't the typical hockey player with the typical hockey ego. Perhaps.
"So just to clarify," Jordan said. "You two are married."
"Yep," Adam replied as he took Rachel's hand.
He turned, a sly smile on his face as he pointed to Charlotte. "And you're single."
"Not tonight."
He gave her a perplexed look. "Not tonight?" he asked.
"I actually have a date."
She saw Jordan's face fall a bit before he quickly recovered, and she tried to convince herself that she was just seeing things. He wouldn't be bothered by the fact that she had a date because he wouldn't be interested in her. And it didn't matter even if he was because she didn't date hockey players.
"Oh," he tried to say casually. "Did I miss him?"
Charlotte looked around the room and realized he was gone. "Um..."
"He's in the bathroom," Adam said gently.
That's when Charlotte heard tiny footsteps sprinting towards her. "I'm here! I'm here!" Aiden yelled.
She turned to find him waving his hands in the air as he sprinted towards Jordan before stopping abruptly in front of him, his nervousness taking over.
"I do hope you washed your hands, young man," Jordan said. Aiden just nodded quietly as the hockey player stuck his hand out for the boy to shake. "I'm Jordan."
"I know."
The group laughed a bit as the boy slowly shook Jordan's hand without letting go. Charlotte walked up behind him, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder.
"Jordan, I would like you to meet my date for the evening: Aiden Ward."
Jordan looked up at Charlotte, his face immediately becoming softer as he realized his foe was a six-year-old boy.
"So are you my adversary for Miss Stone's affections?" Jordan asked.
"I don't know what that means," Aiden said innocently.
"To be fair, he did bring me flowers," she said, pointing to the bouquet on the coffee table. "You're going to have some ground to make up already."
Jordan smiled and stood up, his blue eyes staring directly at her. "Well, that is quite an opening challenge," he said with a smirk on his face.
Charlotte felt her cheeks flush and was trying to find a way to get out of this situation. Luckily, Marco chose that moment let her know that dinner was ready, and she ushered everyone into her dining room. She had spent hours earlier in the day making sure the table was all set up to look its best with her white china, cut glass goblets and silverware. Each place had a napkin set off to the side in napkin holders that she had specifically chosen because they looked like hollowed-out hockey pucks. The chef had already put a salad at all of their places and his assistant quickly poured wine for everyone, except for the apple juice for Aiden.
As everyone got situated, Charlotte walked at the head of the table and raised her glass to her guests. "To eating good food with good people!"
"And to Charlotte, for being a wonderful host with a generous wallet," Adam said with a warm smile.
Jordan raised his glass towards her, and she felt a rush of warmth through her entire body. Remember the rules, she thought. No hockey players.
Jordan tried to distract himself from staring at Charlotte too long as they finished eating, turning his attention to her date instead. After interacting with so many young fans over the years, he knew exactly how to make them respond to him.
"Would you like to help me clear the table, Aiden?"
He turned and gave Jordan a huge grin before grabbing the silverware from everyone and going with his hockey hero into the kitchen. The rest of the crew followed them with their plates, cups and silverware in hand.
"You can just put it on the counter," Charlotte instructed.
"Are you sure?" he asked.
She turned quickly, somehow putting herself only inches away from him, her body so close he could feel the heat through his suit. "Um, yeah, no, that's fine," she stammered before taking a breath. "It's calming to do them after a night of entertaining."
Jordan simply nodded and followed the rest of the crowd into Charlotte's living room for coffee and desserts. Chef Marco made all kinds of little cake things for the group as his crew packed up in the kitchen. The four of them sat around and talked about hockey or tried to give Charlotte ideas for places to visit in the area. Jordan was particularly impressed by Aiden's knowledge of the Pirates players and his ability to eat his weight in pastries.
"This was quite a dinner, Charlotte," Adam said as the night began to wind down. "Well worth the money you had to pay to get Jordan here."
"I feel like I did have to turn the charm up tonight considering how much Miss Stone shelled out, eh?" he replied with a little Canadian seeping into his sentence.
"I was just happy everyone could come."
"And with that, I think it's time for us to leave," Rachel said. "Although I may need some help."
The crew turned to see Aiden had fallen asleep on her lap. Apparently, meeting Jordan was exhausting even after all the sugar he consumed in the past hour. Adam stood and scooped his slumbering son off the couch. "Good night," Adam whispered as his wife draped a small coat over their son. "It was nice to meet you, Jordan."
Jordan nodded in thanks and let Charlotte say her last goodbyes to the guests as he politely headed off to a corner of her living room to make a phone call. The Pirates' head of public relations had sent him an email earlier in the day practically demanding he use the team's car service for dinner tonight instead of driving himself.
Charlotte was closing the door behind the cooking crew for the night when he finally finished the call. It was now just the two of them — alone.
"Car service," he explained as he slid his phone into his pocket.
"So they're here now?"
"No. I'm going to head to the lobby and wait there," he replied slowly, hoping maybe she would be the consummate host and invite him to stick around a little longer instead.
"Oh, you can just stay here."
Yep, definitely predicable.
"Besides," Charlotte added, "my doorman couldn't stop talking about you coming over tonight. He'll just embarrass himself in your presence."
He gave her a small laugh. "Wouldn't be the first time."
"So do you usually use a car service?" she asked. "It seems so uncommon here compared to New York."
"No, but a player in Los Angeles was arrested a few weeks ago for a DUI so our press guy was pretty adamant that I use it just in case," he explained. "Declan Reed is such a jackass."
"What?" Charlotte asked quickly.
"Declan Reed. He's the player who was arrested. Total jerk on the ice and off of it too."
He noticed Charlotte look down quickly to stare at her feet. "Gotcha."
Jordan couldn't figure out what had changed, but something was suddenly off. Did she not like car services? Or Declan Reed? He wouldn't blame her if she wasn't a fan of his — no one was, really — but it seemed like quite a dramatic response to some random hockey goon. He figured it was best to find a way to quickly change the subject.
"So did you design this place yourself?"
"Yeah, sort of," she said, a smile returning to her face. "I had an architect help out, but all the stuff in it is mine."
"Cool, cool," he tried to say casually.
"You know, since you're waiting, I could give you a tour."
He smiled at her, internally congratulating himself for getting the conversation back to more positive territory. "I'd love to know what you've done with it."
Charlotte nodded her head, directing Jordan to follow her as she began pointing to various rooms in the penthouse. "This is the kitchen — you've seen that already." They continued to walk on with her telling him stories about the construction process or the art she had chosen or where the guest bedrooms were. "And that's my bedroom in there."
Jordan stopped, raising an eyebrow in her direction. "I don't get to see your bedroom?" he asked in a mocking hurt tone.
"Maybe next time," she replied curtly.
The tone of her response told him there would likely not be a next time, but he couldn't help himself from hoping.
"This is my office at the end of the hall."
She pushed opened the double doors that led into the room and flipped on the bright lights. There was a beautiful ornate wood desk in the middle with a red leather chair tucked in under it. On the wall was the large white board with lots of writing for what he assumed was a book she was working on. Jordan walked over to study it some more, fascinated with all the colors, lines and notes that seemed chaotic to him. Arrows were drawn from groups of words to other parts of the board. Columns had different colors with some of Charlotte's ideas in red or black. Spots were blank after being erased. "More goes here" showed up in several places.
"So wait," he said as he took in the board in front of him. "You actually do write novels?"
"Yes," she replied. "You seem surprised."
Jordan shrugged. "I assumed you just had someone else write them."
"You wouldn't be the first," she said. "People think the publisher just slaps my name on the cover so they can sell copies, but it's actually all my own work."
He gave her a reassuring smile, a sign that he really did believe her, before turning back to her white board. Two words in purple capital letters near the top of the board stuck out to him.
"What's a meet-cute?" he said.
"A what?"
"It's says 'meet-cute' right here." He pointed up to the words. "What does that mean?"
"Oh, that's when the couple in a story meets for the first time in a cute way."
He gave her a teasing look. "Like if a woman met a man after placing the winning bid to have dinner with him."
"Exactly," she replied. "Although we actually met at the arena when I was waiting for Jack."
Did she think he had forgotten that? "Oh, I know, Charlie. You're not easy to forget." Charlie? Where did that come from? He took a physical step back, feeling like he had gone too far by acting too familiar. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to call you Charlie."
"I don't mind," she said quietly. "I actually kind of like it sometimes. You know, if it's the right person saying it."
She nervously tucked her hair behind her ear, and he decided maybe it was better to not push any further now. Besides, he was keeping his hands to himself tonight. He was focused on the playoffs in a few months, not on a woman now. Ethan would be mad at him for the decision, but he could deal with his brother's wrath later.
To distract himself from over thinking the whole thing, he turned to look at the rest of the room, his eyes immediately drawn to the large windows along the far wall. "Wow. Now that is an amazing view."
He walked over and stood in front of the windows, looking out over the city spread out below them. She came and stood next to him, her reflection in the glass distracting him from the view outside.
"I've been told you can see Canada from here."
"Gorgeous," he said.
He turned to look at her, realizing he wasn't even sure if he was talking about the view out the window or the woman next to him. He couldn't help it. Forget Ethan or his issues or his career. Forget keeping his hands to himself. At that moment, the only thing Jordan could think of was her. His hand instinctively reached for the small of her back, her body leaning in to him as the air began to crackle between them. All he had to do was pull her a little closer...
And then the phone in his pocket rang.
"Dammit," he murmured as his hand quickly left her back to answer it. "Yeah," he said with a bit of agitation as his driver told him it was time to leave. "I'll be right down."
Jordan looked back up at Charlotte, who had stepped a few inches back from him, the phone call also seeming to have pulled her out of the warm haze they had been in. "Well, it seems my pumpkin has arrived."
"Seems so," she said before giving him a polite smile. "Let me walk you out."
Jordan gave her a nod as she led him out of her office and down the hall, her ass looking amazing in that dress as he followed to the coat closet near her front door. He smiled as he took the coat from her and draped it over his arm.
"I really had a great time tonight, Charlotte," he said. "Much better than hanging out with a bunch of rich guys like I did last year."
"I was happy to have you here."
He leaned over to give her a light kiss on the cheek, the heat searing his lips despite the gentle touch. "I hope to see you again sometime," he whispered close to her ear, her warmth lingering on his skin as he slowly pulled away.
"Friday!"
He gave her a quizzical look. "What?"
She seemed sheepish as if she was suddenly aware that she said that louder than intended. "Oh, um, Denver's in town that night and I'll be at the game so I'll see you Friday."
"Ah, right. Well, I'll try not to disappoint you." He flashed her one final smile. "Good night, Charlotte."
"Good night," she said before she closed the door behind him.
He stood there waiting for the elevator, unsure of how exactly he should feel. Dinner had gone well after he got over the fact that her date wasn't really a date. And she did tell him she would show him her bedroom another time. She didn't mean literally, he tried to tell himself.
But then there was that moment in her office. He couldn't really explain it. It was as if his body had no choice in the way it reacted to her. He could try and deny it, try and say it didn't really mean anything, but it had. Jordan could just hear his brother saying, "I told you so," which is why he decided he wouldn't share that part with Ethan.
On Friday, Jordan scored two goals against Denver and after the game, he skated over to give Aiden his stick and Charlotte one of his trademark winks.