Chapter 9
"Bourbon on the rocks."
"Sure thing, Miss Stone," the bartender replied, giving Charlotte a quick smile before turning to make her drink.
She was still trying to readjust to the idea that New Yorkers knew her and would respond with her name even though she had never met them before.
Charlotte sat down and put her purse on the modern cement-slab bar. The restaurant she had chosen was sophisticated without being flashy, which she thought would be perfect for dinner with Jordan. While the food was great and the ambiance was nice, it was still a hidden gem that hadn't been infested with the glitz and glamor types of New York who tended to drag the paparazzi along with them. Hell, the fact that it was sophisticated probably scared those types away. If that made Charlotte a snob, so be it. She would prefer being a snob having a quiet dinner than being an attention whore with a bunch of photographers watching her eat. That was also why she was happy her parents had plans tonight that would require her mother's camera crew to follow them instead of her.
The bartender smiled as he placed the drink in front of her. Charlotte took a sip, savoring the way it tasted, and she immediately felt more relaxed. She actually got to the restaurant a half hour before her reservation with Jordan just so she could have this drink after things at her parents' place got a little stressful. She should've expected that when she told them who she was seeing.
"Wait, you're dating another hockey player?" her father had asked incredulously.
"Peter, stop. She's a grown woman who can make her own decisions," her mother told him.
"I understand that, but do you remember the drama that came with the last one?"
Charlotte sighed. "Dad, that was two years ago."
"You got hurt badly. I just don't want to see that happen again."
She walked over to her father and put her arm around his waist. "Don't worry. I thought about that, and I promise things will be different now."
As with many times before, she could count on her mother Maggie to lighten the mood with some flippant comment.
"So tell us about this hockey player of yours," she beamed, drawing out the last few words.
"He's the captain for the Detroit Pirates and—"
"You're dating Jordan King?" her dad yelled.
"Who's Jordan King?"
Her mother's voice was dripping with intrigue. Charlotte could tell she couldn't wait to call her society friends and gossip with them about this one.
"NHL pretty boy who dates a bunch of attractive women," Peter explained.
"Well, thank you for the compliment," Charlotte said sarcastically.
"I didn't mean you," her father replied. "Well, I mean, I did but, you know."
"Peter, give her a chance." Maggie turned her attention back to Charlotte. "Please tell me he's a big deal. Julia will die when she finds out my daughter is dating a big shot while hers goes out with another deadbeat DJ or party promoter or whatever."
Charlotte just smiled and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. It honestly didn't matter if her mother thought that Jordan was a big deal. He was a big deal to Charlotte. Big enough that she was willing to risk getting her heart broken again by a hockey player in exchange for hoping it would never come to that.
"He's a good guy, mom," she replied simply, deciding it was better to not go into details at this point.
"That wasn't what I was asking," her mother responded in a sing-songy tone.
Peter just ignored his wife, giving Charlotte a soft fatherly look before kissing her gently on top of her head. "I'll have to figure out what to tell the guys when they ask why my daughter is dating the enemy."
"He's not an enemy."
"He plays for the Pirates and he's dating my daughter. He's the enemy."
Charlotte laughed and took a drink from her water, hoping her father's reluctant acceptance of the situation was a sign that things would be fine, that she could handle her mother's prying. Sure, she was well intentioned, but Charlotte remembered some time around high school when her mother switched from bragging about herself to bragging about her kid. It was one of the reasons Maggie had insisted on dragging her daughter onto that stupid reality show at times. Charlotte knew that her mother really was proud of all that she had accomplished in her life, but sometimes she had a strange way of showing it.
Of course, that whole kitchen conversation was pushed out of her mind when she pulled her tight blue dress out of the bedroom closet, the one she saved only for when she really wanted to make certain heads turn. She could tell it definitely caused a rise in her father's blood pressure for all the wrong reasons, but he curtly said good night and told her to have a nice dinner. It was fine. She knew he was being protective of her and didn't want to see her get hurt. It was a very sweet fatherly thing for him to do, but it still made her thankful for the extra half hour at the bar by herself.
Charlotte continued to drink and watch as people walked in, shedding their winter coats as soon as they were inside. She was so lost in her thoughts that she didn't even notice him until he was right next to her.
"Charlotte?"
She turned to see Declan Reed staring at her with a model on his arm. Declan was the last person she ever expected to be in a place like this, and the last person she would ever want to see here or anywhere else. She desperately pulled herself out of her shock, trying her hardest to act like this unexpected run-in didn't bother her.
"Declan," she said curtly. "Haven't seen you in awhile."
The sneer on his face made it clear that he remembered the last time he saw her.
"It's been a couple years, right?" he asked, trying to act like he didn't remember when she knew he did.
"A couple years."
She took another drink, hoping it would give him the hint that it was time for him to go, but that would've been too easy.
"Wait, are you Charlotte Stone?" asked the woman beside him.
She plastered on a fake smile and turned to the tall model standing there. "Raquelle, right?"
"I didn't know you knew Charlotte!" she exclaimed to her boyfriend. "I'll have to get your number from Declan. We need to have lunch sometime."
Ugh. The thought made Charlotte's stomach lurch. People like Raquelle were the exact reason why she left New York, and a good reminder of why she was happy to be living in Detroit now.
"Sure. Lunch sounds awesome," she answered politely.
"Charlotte?"
For the second time in as many minutes, someone recognized her. This time, it was the Pirates' captain, and it seemed she wasn't the only one who recognized him.
"Jordan King!" Declan bellowed. "Good to see you!"
"Yeah," he replied apprehensively, his dark eyes peeling away from Charlotte to stare at his on-ice adversary. "How's New York?"
Declan leaned in towards Jordan. "Couldn't be better," he said as he snaked his arm around his model girlfriend's waist and pulled her close. Then he turned back to Charlotte, his jeering smile practically burning a hole into her soul. "It was good to see you again, Charlotte."
Charlotte raised her glass in goodbye and watched as he walked out, his final smirk a confirmation that she was definitely glad to be rid of him.
Seeing Declan and Jordan in the same place actually made her happy suddenly, reminding her that Jordan was nothing like the man from her past. Everything that was bad about her time with Declan had been overtaken with everything that was good about her relationship with Jordan. But that feeling disappeared quickly when she saw the accusatory way he was staring at her.
"Ready to eat?" she tried to ask casually.
"Sure," Jordan said quietly, grabbing her arm lightly to steer them towards their table.
Charlotte found herself staring at the menu, her mind too distracted to really understand any of the words on it. Jordan was being awfully quiet on the other side of the table, which just made things worse. The whole point of coming to this restaurant was to avoid people like Declan, not run into them. She turned the menu over to find the wine list before deciding she needed something stiffer than that.
"Charlotte?" She looked up to see Jordan and their waiter staring at her. "Did you want something to drink?"
"Another bourbon on the rocks."
"Make that two," Jordan added quickly.
Their drinks came, their menus were taken away with their order, and barely a word had spoken between them. Jordan just stared out the restaurant's windows at an enemy who had already disappeared into the night of New York. She knew how he felt. Hell, she would be the one staring out the front windows right now if she was the one facing them.
"Jordan?"
His eyes snapped back to her. "Sorry. I just…" His voice tapered off into silence before he drew a dramatic breath. "You never mentioned that you knew Declan Reed."
She shrugged, hoping it would hide the truth. "Didn't think it was that important to mention."
Jordan's eyes narrowed. "How well do you know him?"
"Knew him." Her hands nervously played the silverware in front of her. "I knew him well enough," she said quietly.
"How well?" he asked in a low, demanding voice.
"I knew him," she responded. "There's nothing else to say."
He stared at her with his stormy blue eyes. "I think there is."
"There isn't," she said forcefully as she grabbed her napkin. "Besides, I'm not going to let some hockey player ruin our date."
Jordan arched his eyebrow towards her. "I'm a hockey player."
"You're the captain of one of the best teams in the league. That other guy is just a hockey player."
She forced herself to smile, trying to reassure both of them that it was best to forget that other guy. Charlotte took another drink from her glass to try and cut down the tension that was filling the space between them.
Declan had done enough damage to her already. She wasn't about to have him spoil her date with Jordan in Manhattan.
Jordan shivered as they stepped out from the restaurant into the cold air. The reaction surprised him considering the heat he was trying to hold in.
"Well, not bad for a night in Manhattan, right?"
Jordan gave her strained smile. "Sure."
Except it wasn't. He remembered Charlotte's reaction in the car on trade deadline day when Declan's name was brought up, the way she reacted when he mentioned that asshole at her apartment after the charity dinner.
Jordan had to give her credit for trying to divert his attention at dinner. She asked how the team was doing or what was going on with Ethan. But there was a tension between them. He knew about Declan now, even if he didn't know exactly what there was to know. She was doing something he considered to be a stereotypical high society move: trying to distract him from the issue by asking pithy questions and talking about anything she could think of to fill the space. He liked Charlotte because she wasn't pithy, at least not until tonight.
Charlotte stopped in front of him on the sidewalk and put her hand into his, pulling him closer to kiss him. He pulled away slightly, his eyes staring at her for any signs that she would tell him more about their earlier run-in, but she was a blank slate.
"Let me get a cab for you," he said as he stepped out with his hand raised.
"How gentlemanly of you."
"I try," he reply flatly.
Jordan was thankful to see a yellow cab pull up so fast.
"You want to share this with me?" she asked quietly.
He shook his head. "I'm going the other direction, and it's only a few blocks away. Get yourself home."
She gave him a kiss on his cheek and waited as he opened the passenger door for her.
"Send me a text to let me know you got in safe," he told her.
"You really like it when I check in with you, don't you?"
"I worry about you, Charlie," he explained.
"You don't have to."
Jordan shrugged. "I know, but I do." He gave her a strained smile. "Have a good night," he said, slamming her door shut.
He watched as the cab pulled away before reaching for the phone in his jacket pocket. His fingers had been itching to grab it throughout dinner. Jordan pulled up his web browser and paused. His hand hovering above the screen, trying to decide if it should follow the directions his brain was sending to it. And then it started typing into the little box on the screen, "Charlotte Stone Declan Reed," and pressed the Search button.
There was a few articles about both of them at the same charity dinner in Manhattan a few years ago to promote some fashion magazine's spread on pro athletes and their high-end styles. The rest were just a few random gossip websites that mentioned them, just not in the same article. But he was still on edge. Just because stories didn't show up in a search engine didn't mean it was no big deal. Something had spooked Charlotte about Declan, but Jordan would have to go to sleep in his hotel room tonight without knowing exactly what it was. Maybe she could give him some answers when they got back to Detroit.
The trip to her parents' place wasn't far. Charlotte quickly paid the driver and ducked in past the doorman towards the ornate elevators in the lobby. She typed out "I made it home," on her phone and sent it off to Jordan just in time for the doors to close behind her.
The drive to her apartment seemed like an eternity tonight. Things hadn't gone right at dinner. In fact, they had gone very wrong. What the hell was Declan even doing in that part of Manhattan? It was cool and calm and not at all flashy like him. He had just made it to New York a few days earlier, hadn't even played for his new team yet. Why was he hanging out in her part of town on the same night she was having dinner with a man who hated him almost as much as she did?
She was grateful that Jordan had called Declan for what he was: a pest. But things were off after their encounter. It would be fine, she told herself. She just needed to go to the arena tomorrow night and watch Jordan play. Then he would be off to Boston for another game, she would be heading back to Detroit in a few more days, the ghost of Declan would stay in New York.
It would be good to really tell Jordan about her past relationship once they were both home. He may be angry at first that she had kept it from him for so long, but he had to know just how painful Declan can make someone's life. He would know that that was the reason she had held all this back.
As the doors opened on her parents' floor, Charlotte's phone buzzed alerting her to a text from Jordan. "See you tomorrow."
"Tomorrow." She sent off the text and unlocked the door, trying to quietly slip in so as not to wake up her parents.
"Hey! How was it?"
Charlotte turned quickly to see her mother sitting on the edge of the sofa in the living room, staring back at her.
"You know, I'm old enough that you don't have to wait up anymore," she told her parents.
Maggie smiled from her spot on the sofa. "We wanted to hear about your date with Jordan."
"Please don't," her father said, glancing over his copy of The Wall Street Journal to give her an apprehensive look.
Charlotte shrugged off her coat and hung it in the closet by the door. "I'm going to bed. Have a good night."
"You're not even going to tell us about dinner?" her mother pouted.
Dinner was great after I ran into my ex-boyfriend and tried to play it off as no big deal and it didn't work.
Luckily, her father could see the tension in her and came to her rescue, giving his wife a frustrated look before turning back to his daughter.
"Good night, Charlotte," he said gently.
She gave them a small wave and walked down the hall towards her old bedroom, sighing with relief that the details from her night out were still safe with her.
Dinner with Jordan could've been better, and her ex-boyfriend's appearance had definitely been the worst part of the night. But as Charlotte pulled on her comfy yoga pants and slipped under her covers, the last thing she could have imagined was how much worse Declan was about to make her life.