Chapter Thirty–Nine
Do You Believe In Magic?
Charlotte wasn’t sure what her mother was up to, asking her to come over in a hurry, saying she was making pie specially for the occasion. She was glad for the invitation, though, as she needed a break from the computer.
The mission statement she’d posted about fair practices and keeping the moral high ground had gone viral on Facebook and Twitter, with thumbs up and hearts everywhere. Clearly, something she’d said resounded with people, not that they all wanted private investigation services, but just that the whole thing came from her heart.
She’d had seven very serious inquiries about her services, three from large corporations. The visibility was certainly doing her good. After months of just scraping by, it looked like she’d turned a corner with the business.
She swallowed down the hollow feeling that it was all pointless without someone to share it with. She had her parents, after all, and Dad especially would be happy to hear how she’d drummed up new business. That was just going to have to be good enough.
She walked straight in, calling out as she usually did. “In here,” shouted her father from the kitchen. He sounded more energetic than normal. Maybe there was good news?
She walked into the kitchen and froze as her eyes took in the three of them sitting around the small round table. Jordan looked back at her, his eyes expectant.
“Oh,” she said. And then “Oh,” again. And then simply because she felt stupid standing there, she added. “I guess you told them what I did.”
She clenched her jaw. It was bad enough he knew, but she wished he wouldn’t have told her parents. They would be deeply disappointed in her: sneaking around, lying her butt off, stealing files. She’d managed to keep most of it from her father, although she knew he was curious about where she had picked up the information.
“Tell us what?” Her father raised his eyebrow.
“That...” She wasn’t sure if Jordan had told them all of it or not. But then, if lying to your parents wasn’t as bad as anything else, then what was the point of her mission statement? She spilled it all out in a second. “That I broke into Jordan’s father’s office and searched through his files.”
Dad just stared at her. “You did what?”
“I know.” She turned to Jordan. “I don’t blame you for coming here. What I did was unforgivable but my parents had nothing to do with it.”
Jordan shook his head, wincing. “Charlotte, I didn’t tell them anything.”
“I... oh.”
Dad was still staring at her. “You broke into his office?”
She nodded. “Well, his dad’s office.” She might as well come out with it. “I found notes on Kenny James and a check stub. George blackmailed him and then bought him off, I think.” She couldn’t stand to make eye contact with anyone. “I’m sorry. I didn’t do anything with the files and I won’t. How I got them was unethical, which makes me no better than George. Anyway, it wouldn’t stand up in a court of law.” She shuffled her feet. “I’m sorry.”
She peeked up. Jordan was still sitting there, his jaw clenched tight. Well, she deserved that. There’s no reason why he should ever forgive her.
“Charlotte,” he said, his voice rough.
“You don’t need to tell me off,” she waved him away. “I feel terrible enough already, ok?” And then, because she just didn’t know what else to say, “Are you leaving or am I?”
“Charlotte, I’m not leaving.” He stood up. “Will you please look at me?”
She looked up and instantly regretted it. His eyes were smoldering, doing something stupid to her stomach, even though she knew it was just his anger at her for what she’d done.
“I really am sorry,” she said. “I know I can’t make it up to you and I know you can’t trust me again, but I just want you to know that I really regret what I did and how I did it.”
Dad cleared his throat. “Lottie, let the man get a word in edgewise, would you?”
Chastised, she shut up and went back to staring at the floor.
Jordan cleared his throat. “I came here to say I’m sorry.”
“What?” She stared at him. “For what?”
“Well, I came here to apologize to your dad.” He stepped towards her. “I didn’t know about the land sale or the buyout, Charlotte. It was before my time and no one ever mentioned it around me.”
“I believe you.” At least her meddling had achieved something. “Well, thank you. I appreciate you clearing things up, especially considering my own behavior.”
“And I want to apologize to you.”
“You’ve no reason to apologize to me.”
“But I do.” He stood up. “I said some things... I didn’t know who you were, Charlotte.”
“That’s because I lied to you.” Her father made a scoffing noise. She winced. “I’m sorry.”
“I meant what I said. The sensible parts, I mean. When I told you that you could give up your job, I didn’t mean it like some sort of Neanderthal thing, that you should be fulfilled by sitting in the kitchen and making casseroles.”
“Not that there’s anything wrong with making casseroles,” chipped in Charlotte’s mother as she started clearing the plates.
Charlotte ignored her. “Don’t worry. I get it. That’s how things are done in Haven. Women focus on the kids and the kitchen and the charities. And that’s fine. It’s just not the kind of person I want to be.” Not that anyone was asking. Her throat tightened. No, she would not start crying in front of him. She turned towards the door.
He crossed the room in two strides and grabbed her hand to stop her. “It’s not what I want either. Charlotte, I thought you worked as an escort!”
A plate clattered to the floor behind her. Charlotte swallowed the lump in her throat. The silence in the room was suffocating.
She finally forced the words out in a whisper. “You... what?”
“I’m sorry. I know.” He looked at her parents, still holding her hand. “It wasn’t her fault. I thought she was an acquaintance of Buddy’s named Cherise. She was looking for some work that didn’t involve taking her clothes off. I said I’d help. I swear, that’s all it was. Then you walked in and I thought you were her.”
The strength returned to her voice. “Do I look like an escort?”
“Be careful how you answer that, son.”
“Dad.” She gritted her teeth. “Jordan, maybe we should talk somewhere else.”
“And we miss all the fun?” her father asked. “Not on your life, Lottie. I’m rather intrigued by this confessional. I don’t want to miss what else you’ve been up to. But someone might need to get the smelling salts for Delores.”
Jordan seemed to be trying to bite back a smile. Then his face grew serious. “Charlotte, I’m sorry. You were stunningly beautiful in an old shirt and jeans and I could just imagine you in, in a French maid’s outfit or something...” He coughed, caught himself. “Anyway, that’s why I thought you should quit your job.”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out the large jewelry box. He held it out to her. “I bought this for you, as an apology.”
Oh no. After that necklace he gave to her just for going out to dinner, this was going to be all wrong. She knew it was going to be some garish thing studded with expensive gems she would never dare wear. “Jordan, I can’t.”
“Please? Just open it.”
Reluctantly, she did. Inside was a thin gold chain with a paw print on it. She pulled it out carefully. It looked like it came from Annie’s Accessory shop at the mall.
“It came from Annie’s Accessory shop,” he said. “It’s really cheap.”
Her mother grumbled from behind them, clearly enjoying herself. “Who gives a present and says it’s really cheap?”
“That’s what she wants,” Jordan explained. “I wanted to buy something she’d actually wear.”
“It is very pretty,” said Charlotte. “But why the paw print?” And then it dawned on her. “Rufus,” she said at the same moment as him.
Her dad piped up this time. “Who?”
“It’s for her dog,” he said. “She showed me the tattoo.”
“What dog?” her dad asked, at the same moment as her mom muttered, “She has a tattoo?”
Charlotte’s head collapsed into her hands.
“It’s a nice tattoo,” Jordan said. And then the penny dropped as Owen’s words clicked in his head. “Did he just say, ‘What dog?’”
She felt locked in his gaze, a deer in the headlights. “I never had a dog. I’m sorry.”
“And the R?”
“It stood for ruthless. Now, well, I don’t know. I can only say I’m sorry, Jordan.” She tried to look away but he’d put his hand on her cheek. It felt like an electric current running through her. I will not cry. I will not cry. I will not cry.
“I’m sorry, too,” he said, letting go of her. She forced her eyes away from his gaze although there was no hiding the tears welling up in them.
At least they got that all straightened out. She should leave. No, he should leave. It was her parents’ house after all. She forced the words out. “You should go.”
Jordan dropped to one knee. “Charlotte Nichols, I love you. I’ll leave if you want me to but I can’t go without telling you the truth.”
“You... what?” Her brain slowed to a stop, unable to comprehend what was happening.
“But if you want me to stay, I would be honored to get to know you. The real you.” He stood up. “I want to be a part of your life. Whatever you are willing to share.” He brought his face closer to hers. “If you’ll just give me a chance.”
Charlotte tried to speak but all that came out was a strangled sob.
“Yes,” shouted her mother. “That means yes!”
“Mom!” And then Charlotte began crying in earnest. She let herself fall into Jordan’s firm chest, clutching at his shirt. He wrapped his arms around her and held her close.
“Get Lottie a tissue, will you Delores? She’s making a mess of his shirt.”
Charlotte let go of Jordan and took the tissue. “I’ve made a mess out of everything,” she admitted. “I thought I could be ruthless and in control but really, I hated every minute of it. I’m so, so, sorry Jordan.”
Her father spoke up from the sidelines again. “Lottie, stop apologizing. Just kiss the man.”
Charlotte winced but Jordan just grinned and dipped his head to hers, claiming her in a gentle kiss. “Do you still think I should go?”
“Only if you take me with you,” she whispered back.
“Glad to.” He kissed her again, roughly this time, and then stood back to look at her. She was red-nosed and probably had mascara smeared all the way down her face, but he just smiled that brilliant full smile that made her heart melt like Jello in a hot oven. “I’m afraid we have to get going, Mr. Nichols.”
“If you’re going to look at my daughter like that, you better call me Owen.”
This time even Charlotte managed to laugh. Jordan had already charmed her parents like he’d charmed her the moment she’d met him. “Come on,” she nagged. “Before Mom insists on feeding us pie.”
“I packed two slices up for you to take with you,” her mother said with a twinkle in her eye. “I had a feeling you two might need some time alone.” She handed Jordan a brown bag and leaned in closer to him. “The bigger slice is for you, don’t let her tell you any different.” She took his hand. “Thank you for coming to see us, Jordan. You’ve turned out to be a wonderful young man.”
He squeezed Delores’s hand and then stepped forward to shake her dad’s hand, too. “I hope I’ll see you again soon, Owen,” he said. And then finally, finally, they were walking out of the house, hand in hand.
Jordan looked at her car, which seemed rather clunky next to his expensive sports car. She thought he was going to comment but he just walked over to the passenger side of her car. “Your place or mine?”