Chapter Four - Danny
Charlotte is beautiful. She’s absolutely stunning, and I can’t stop staring at her. She’s poised and confident, her laugh is charming, and her smile lights up all the features on her pretty face. Her sweater shows off her slender curves and makes her skin, makes all of her look so soft. Dare I say touchable?
I know I shouldn’t be thinking about Hank’s daughter like this, but from the first moment she turns to look at me, I’m captivated.
“Dad promised a taste of the whole menu,” Charlotte says, smiling at me.
“He mentioned that,” I say, laughing, “but I’d recommend you spread it out a little because he won’t let me or the kitchen make you small portions.”
“Sometimes I’m convinced he thinks I didn’t feed myself at all in Philadelphia,” Charlotte says, laughing a little.
“Hank doesn’t like to think about anyone eating when it’s not at his restaurant. It’s not just you,” I say, making her laugh again.
“He really doesn’t,” she says, shaking her head, “and don’t get him started on food delivery services.”
“Did you know we have one here now?” I ask, nodding in agreement. Hank sticks to all of his convictions at all times. It goes with his big ideas and giant visions, I think.
“A food delivery service?” Charlotte asks, raising her eyebrows like it surprises her to learn.
“Bay Runner Delivery,” I say, “they came here and asked if we wanted to be a participating restaurant.”
“And Dad threw them out?” Charlotte guesses. I smirk, nodding.
“He threw them out,” I confirm, then lower my voice. “But I’ve used them every once in a while in a pinch, though. I can give you one of their magnets, but only if you promise to keep it a secret.”
“I think I can do that,” Charlotte says, laughing again. Every time I make her laugh, I’m more pleased than I should be. I can’t believe this beautiful woman in front of me is Charlotte, who I remember as nothing more than the skinny, awkward kid who used to hum to herself while doing homework in back booths at the old pizza parlor. I can’t believe Hank’s daughter looks like the kind of woman I’d love to buy a drink for, take out to dinner, even bring back home with me if the night went well.
“You do have to eat when you’re not here,” I say, nodding. “And I don’t know about you, but every nurse I’ve ever known is busy all the time.”
“I was barely in my old apartment long enough in the day to sleep, let alone cook meals,” Charlotte agrees, tucking a strand of hair behind her ears, “but I should have at least a little more time now.”
“You’re working for one of the hospices, right?” I ask, remembering Hank talking excitedly about her coming home.
“I am! I start in two days, actually,” Charlotte says.
“Are you looking forward to it?” I ask. I want to keep Charlotte talking, want to extend this conversation as long as I can.
“It’s a huge change for me,” Charlotte says, playing with her hair again. “I’m used to working long hours and overnights, to everything being so busy and urgent all the time. I did two years in the emergency room and three in the ICU before I settled in cardiac for a while. Hospice is like a different world.”
“It sounds like it,” I say.
“I mean, you went from a ship to a kitchen, right? That’s a bigger change,” Charlotte offers. I nod. I want, so badly, to ask her if she’d like to talk about it all over drinks. I want to invite her to dinner with me, to hear every detail about her life and career. If she was any other woman, I would. But I don’t. I can’t. She’s not any other woman—she’s Hank’s daughter.
I don’t know if Hank would be too thrilled at the idea of me dating his daughter. At the idea of me even thinking about wanting to. Not just because we’ve been friends for so long, but because he’s seen relationships of mine go very wrong. He’s seen what I was like before the Navy – when I ran into a new woman each week. Has seen how, even lately, I’ve never exactly settled. Hank has teased me about my way with women in the past, good-natured ribbing, but I have a feeling it wouldn’t be so good-natured if Charlotte was involved.
“I’ve got Hank to thank for that,” I say, mostly to remind myself.
“Is he here? I’m surprised he hasn’t noticed me yet,” Charlotte says, glancing around.
“He was taking a phone call. He might still be on it. I’ll walk you back to his office,” I say like I probably should have to start with.
“Thanks,” Charlotte says, “and then you have an entire menu to cook me, don’t you?”
“Highlights, anyway,” I say, nodding. Charlotte laughs again as we start to walk through the Dock’s End, past the bar, and toward Hank’s office.
“I’ll be here enough to eat the rest over time. I told Dad I’d help when I’m not working,” Charlotte says, eyes sweeping around the space, taking in details. I swallow, both delighted by and dreading the idea of her being around a lot all at once.
“Good, we could use the extra hands,” I say, and it’s true. With the Naval Academy Ball, general holiday rush, and whatever is going on with our finances, having another trusted person around will be a huge help.
“Whatever I can do,” Charlotte says, eyes on me again as we reach Hank’s office door. I can think of several things I could have her do, but I swallow those thoughts down. I grin at her instead and knock once on Hank’s door to let him know I’m coming in before pushing it open, a system we worked out years ago.
“Delivery,” I say. Hank hangs up the phone on whoever he’s talking to and jumps up to hug his daughter. I step back, not wanting to intrude, and head back to the kitchen. I think about Charlotte being here all the time and I shake my head. I tell myself it’s ridiculous. Just because a beautiful, clever woman is going to be around all the time doesn’t mean I have to do anything about it. It doesn’t mean I can’t just treat her like she’s a casual friend, doesn’t mean I can’t control myself.
And then I hear her laughter ringing from Hank’s office all the way in the kitchen, and I know I’m wrong. I’m fucked. She’s not something I’m going to be able to forget about.