It was time to move on, put herself out there, get back in the saddle, as they say. Not to find a boyfriend per se, but just something to get her over this hump and the disappointment that Simon had once again let her down, stood her up, and that she’d let it happen.
She should just call it what it was: a rebound.
Bree poured herself a fresh mug of coffee and escaped to the back room of her shop. Caroline was covering the storefront for a few minutes while Bree was supposedly working on some orders. And she would. Once she’d created a dating profile.
She typed in the site name and all at once her screen lit up with pictures of happy couples and the promise that she, too, could find what they had! All she had to do was fill in her bio and upload the photo of herself taken at Victoria’s wedding. Colleen had been carefully cropped from the photo, and everything was ready to go.
So why was she sitting here, hands hovering over the keyboard, second-guessing herself?
Right. She’d just take a little look-see first. Remind herself why she was doing this. She wanted a boyfriend. Eventually. Wanted a family someday more than she wanted to even admit. And as Gran used to say, they didn’t just come to you when you were sitting home alone. You had to put yourself out there. And she was putting herself out there. Starting now.
She clicked on the Search tab and studied the fields. Age. Easy. She was now thirty-two (God help her), so she would be open-minded and say thirty to forty. Location? She wasn’t willing to move anytime soon, if ever, but she doubted very much that this site would uncover a trove of available men in Misty Point, so she generously included a twenty-mile radius. With the press of a button, her screen filled with pictures of smiling men.
God, this was almost too easy. She took a sip of her coffee, starting to enjoy herself.
The first guy was cute, but he lived twenty miles away and he was only looking for a casual relationship. Good to know from the get-go. My, how refreshing! She quickly clicked out of his profile and moved on to the next. This guy lived a bit closer, just two towns over, really, and he was a doctor. My! Wouldn’t Gran be proud.
And…he was separated. Not divorced. Separated. She flagged him for a later date.
She scrolled through a few more, then clicked to the next page. And the next. And then her body froze when she saw the image in the top left corner. A face she had come to memorize, one she saw every time she closed her eyes. It was Simon.
And worse was that it was a picture of Simon she knew all too well. A picture she still kept in her nightstand drawer for those especially lonely nights when she couldn’t sleep and was thinking about how old she was getting and fretting over her eggs drying out before she found everlasting happiness. When she was too tired to paint the cabinets or figure out how to install a medicine cabinet in the gaping hole where the old one had been. When even the worry over those loose wires in the powder room couldn’t stop her from thinking of how uncertain her future felt while everyone else seemed to have theirs locked in and figured out.
It was a picture not just of Simon, but of her and Simon, taken last June at the lighthouse. There was no denying, and as she leaned in to be sure, she could see a hint of her pink shirt where the image stopped.
The bastard had cropped her out of the photo!
Well. She was really shaking now. Trembling was more like it. She hesitated, afraid to open his profile, wondering if he would somehow find out. But then she thought of the drive-bys and the flowers and she thought, Why stop now? Here it was. All the masochistic information she felt so compelled to have. Right at her fingertips.
She opened his profile. Read his bio with a curl of her lip. He really did think highly of himself. Expert skier? Please. She could beat him down the slopes any day. Loved to cook? Unless he counted frozen pizza, that was a stretch.
She moved down to the bottom, clicked through a few photos, tried to ignore the pang in her chest at how handsome he still looked. And then she saw it.
Right there, black and white, clear as crystal. Simon was looking for a committed relationship.
And Simon had created his profile five months ago. Nearly two months before they’d broken up!
And Simon had been active online in the past twelve hours.
She closed her laptop and sat back in her chair. Her hands were shaking and her mind was spinning with too many thoughts, each one worse than the last.
But one thing was all too clear. Simon had never loved her. And no matter how much she thought that might someday change, he never would.
She stood up and reached down to her wrist, but instead of giving the rubber band a good hard flick, this time she slid it off.
* * *
Charlotte looked around the front hall and living room, which were coming together very nicely, and tried to imagine how everything would look Saturday night. She eyed the bare spot above the mantel and decided a swag of garland and lights would be fine. She’d get a matching wreath to hang on the mirror above. With the Christmas tree towering in the corner, already the room felt cozier and so much more lived in than it had on her first visit.
She stopped herself there. Christmas decorations had a way of transforming a space. It was easy to see it as more than that. To get caught up in the fantasy—the beautiful house, the perfect family, the memory of Greg’s kiss long after his mouth had left hers.
But this wasn’t her home. This was a venue, essentially.
Marlene came into the hall with Audrey on her hip. The sitter was sick and Marlene had gladly offered to help with childcare for the day.
“You can just tell that sitter of yours that I’ll take over,” she said as she bent down to pick up a rag doll that Audrey had dropped on the floor. Charlotte didn’t have the heart to tell her it was a fruitless exercise. Audrey loved to throw that toy on the ground more than she enjoyed cuddling with it.
“I’d love to do just that, but I’m afraid she’d find another client and I’ll be needing her again come the first of the year.”
She frowned. Even after what had transpired between her and Greg, there was no denying the fact that she needed to find her own place to live soon.
“Just because you have a fake engagement doesn’t mean you can’t have a real marriage,” Marlene teased, and Charlotte gave a hearty laugh to show just how ridiculous that joke was, but her cheeks flushed with heat at the thought. Marlene had tapped in on her one secret wish. A dream she hadn’t even dared to admit to herself.
All this time she’d been happy enough on her own. Even convinced herself she was better off on her own. But now…now it would be hard to leave all this behind. And not just the house.
Would she ever have it again? And did Greg even want it?
The doorbell chimed, and Charlotte sighed. “That’s probably my cousin Bree,” she explained to Marlene. “She wanted to get a feel for the space before she commits to a vase. She’s a florist,” she explained, and then hesitated. “Well, she took over her grandmother’s flower shop.”
Marlene nodded. “I’ll make some coffee.”
Charlotte had mostly lost the taste for it after having Audrey, but she knew Bree would appreciate it. She smoothed her hair as she walked to the door and pulled it open. Bree stared at her with round eyes. “Here, I thought a butler would answer, not the lady of the manor!” She laughed, and after a beat Charlotte did, too.
Bree wasn’t here to make trouble. Bree was here to help. Really, she needed to settle down and stop reading into every little thing, looking for problems that might not even be there.
“How does it look?”
Bree said nothing as she walked around the hall and into the adjacent living room, where Charlotte explained that the majority of the party would be taking place. Both rooms were huge and spacious, and with the furniture cleared out could easily accommodate the guests.
Bree frowned as she walked over to the tree. “Are these ornaments—”
“Frost originals,” Charlotte said quickly, omitting the fact that she’d shattered half of them.
“My grandmother had this one! I found it in the attic the other day.” Bree shook her head. “I just realized that I don’t even have a tree this year. What does that say about me?”
“You can still put one up,” Charlotte said.
“But why bother?” Bree frowned. “A tree just for me?”
Charlotte understood. Last year in Boston, she hadn’t bothered. She couldn’t have afforded one, and she hadn’t wanted any reminders of all the joy and happiness she was missing. But this year…She looked around the room. This year was so different.
“Everyone will be back for Christmas,” Charlotte said, thinking of her parents. “We always have fun.”
“I know. It’s just…sometimes I’m tired of being the single girl,” Bree admitted, and to Charlotte’s horror, her eyes filled with tears. “I can’t help it. I want what Kate has. What Elizabeth has. Don’t you?”
Charlotte considered this for a moment. Not long ago she would have stood firm, said she was fine on her own, that it was better this way. But was it better? Forget having someone there to help with midnight feedings or splitting the bills. What about sharing memories, holidays, keeping special moments alive forever? She’d tried to tell herself she’d be fine. Audrey would be fine. That they weren’t missing out on anything at all. But she couldn’t deny that wish anymore. She swallowed hard, and nodded. “I do. Of course I do.”
* * *
After Bree left, Charlotte did another sweep of the front hall, envisioning where the bar table would go, and then paused to adjust the heavy garland that was wrapped around the banister. Outside, a crew was finishing attaching thousands of lights to the large stone house and the bare branches of the dozens of trees that lined the long stretch from the road. At the gate, two large wreaths had been hung by thick velvet ribbons, the very same that now anchored the front door from which guests would enter.
There were still so many more little details to attend to, and she should just continue to plow through her list—and she would—if she didn’t have to keep stopping, and thinking, and smiling…It seemed no sooner did she finish a task and allow her focus to break than her mind was wandering, and all at once, Greg’s lips were on hers, his hands skimming over her waist, touching her in a way she thought no man ever would again.
The doorbell chimed loudly, jarring her from her thoughts. Charlotte set down her notebook and quickened her pace to the door before the bell rang again. She needed Audrey to sleep for at least another hour so she could get a few last-minute things accomplished. The party was only three days away. It was a flat-out miracle she had even pulled together what she had in such a short period of time.
God, wouldn’t Kate be impressed!
Unlocking the door and pulling it open, Charlotte was expecting to see one of the crew working on the lighting, but instead she came eye to eye with a tall blonde with ice-blue eyes.
“Oh,” she said. She could feel her brow knit even as she mustered a pleasant smile. “Can I help you?”
The woman brought a hand up to a large diamond earring and stared at Charlotte stonily. “I’m Rebecca,” she said coolly. “Greg’s fiancée.”
Charlotte felt her breath hitch. She knew it wasn’t true. The relationship was over; Greg had told her so with no uncertainty. He wouldn’t have lied…
Her heart began to pound when she considered the possibility of breaking up another engagement, of sleeping with another engaged man, falling for his charms. She pressed a hand to her stomach, thinking of Kate and the hurt she had caused her. The selfish, foolish act that had turned all their lives upside down.
But no, this was different. Rebecca was not wearing the ring. Greg had said it was over. And she believed him.
“Greg’s at work,” she replied evenly. She hadn’t gotten this far in life by being intimidated by rich women like Rebecca. She wouldn’t be stopped now.
“Are you the new help?” Rebecca asked with a delicate tip of her head, and Charlotte balled a fist to keep from reacting. “I don’t remember seeing you here before.”
“I’m…a friend of Greg’s, actually,” Charlotte replied. She hesitated, wondering why she hadn’t just explained that she was the event planner.
Because she no longer saw herself in that role, did she? She’d crossed a line. The one she’d drawn for herself.
Uncertainty began to gnaw at her. Greg was charming and smooth, and he made her feel special. Wasn’t that how it always was? A flirtation, a few gifts, a few amazing nights, and then…
Rebecca’s eyes narrowed slightly as she gave Charlotte more notice. She swept her eyes casually over Charlotte, no doubt calculating the worth of Charlotte’s clothes, and then rested her gaze on her hand.
“Greg had mentioned he had a new…friend.” Rebecca swept past her and into the hall, glancing around. She unbuttoned her camel cashmere coat and flung it on a nearby chair. Her neck was draped with a triple rope of pearls. She was taller than Charlotte, and the black pencil skirt she wore brought a curl to Charlotte’s lip. Thinner, too.
Wait. She’d spoken with Greg?
“I didn’t realize you two were still in touch.”
“I just saw him yesterday,” Rebecca replied.
Charlotte froze. There was nothing she could say to that without looking like a bigger fool. Heat warmed her cheeks as she stood facing the other woman. Greg had said he was going to Boston for a business meeting. And she’d believed him.
Charlotte glanced around the room, at the piles of paperwork she still needed to go through, the orders she needed to confirm, the invoices she needed to process. The living room, where the bulk of the party would take place, was in a state of disarray. Stacks of boxes filled with decorations waited to be opened. Extra seating was being brought in, and the front half of the massive room would be cleared out for the buffet table.
The deadline was pressing in on her, the enormity of the task she had taken on. Up until now, she felt she had a handle on it, but standing here, listening to this woman, she felt shaken and weary. Just this morning, her future had never felt so bright. But now, the heavyhearted feeling of dread was taking over, reminding her of all she stood to lose. And this time, it was more than she had gambled on.
Greg was never supposed to be part of the mix. This was supposed to be an opportunity to provide security, not uncertainty. She had Audrey to think about. First and foremost. Always.
“As you can see, we’re in the middle of planning a party, and it’s not the best time,” Charlotte said firmly. “If you’d like to speak with Greg, he’s at his office.”
Rebecca cocked her head and plucked a leather glove from her hand, finger by finger. “Actually, I think I’m learning all I need to know by talking with you.” She paused, holding the gloves in her hand, absentmindedly slapping them against her palm until Charlotte’s teeth were set on edge. She hooked her gaze on Charlotte. “He mentioned his new friend.” She pursed her lips. “And here I thought he was making you up as some…excuse.”
She looked sharply away, and all at once Charlotte saw herself in the woman. As icy and cold as she may be, Charlotte recognized heartache when she saw it. And she could imagine that losing a man like Greg would be very hard to accept.
From the monitor on the table, she heard the rustling of fabric. She hoped Audrey was just stirring, that she would find her way back to a nice, deep sleep, but she knew it was useless. A soft whimper followed by a small cry pierced the silence. So much for getting much more done today. Though it was a convenient excuse to end this conversation.
Rebecca was looking at her in alarm, her gray eyes wide. “What’s that sound?”
“It’s my daughter, and I really must tend to her,” Charlotte explained, walking toward the stairs.
“Your daughter?” Rebecca repeated, and Charlotte paused.
“Yes, my daughter.” After a beat, she added, “Why?”
The expression of shock had not yet left Rebecca’s face. She blinked twice and then, inexplicably, threw her head back in laughter.
Rebecca was still chuckling as she reached for her coat. She shrugged it on and, setting a hand on Charlotte’s arm, said, “Enjoy it while it lasts. I might not know Greg as well as I thought these days, but I know one thing with him stands the test of time.”
“And what’s that?” Charlotte asked, pulling her arm free and folding her arms protectively against her chest.
Rebecca’s heels clicked across the polished floorboards as she swayed to the door. She gripped the handle and whirled around, nailing Charlotte with a hundred-watt smile. “The man hates kids!” she said gaily, and with one last chuckle, slammed the door closed behind her.
Charlotte stood in the massive foyer, frozen to the spot. Her daughter’s cries filled the room, as if she, too, were aching from those harsh words, begging to know how anyone could deny her. How yet another man could struggle to find a place for her in his heart.