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“So you’re worried it’s not going to come together in time? Because of the flood? Because of my back?”
She shrugs.
Shit. I’ve had this ass backward the whole time. Of course she’s not interested in me. Of course I was stupid to think there was hope. I’ve known that for years.
Now it’s my turn to be sad but determined. “So you massaged my back this morning because you need me up on my feet to get your promotion. Not because you care about me being in pain.”
“No. No.” She sits up and faces me again, looking hurt. “It wasn’t like that. Don’t think that, Elliot. Please.”
“Then tell me what I should think.”
“You should think I care about you and wanted to help you. I hated seeing you like that. I hated that you’d squished yourself into those chairs last night so I could have the bed. You were in so much pain, and I thought I could help.” Her eyes glisten as they search mine. “I did help, right?”
Always her major concern in every situation—how helpful she’s been. I nod. And if I am honest with myself, it’s an experience I wouldn’t give up for the world.
“Anyway,” I say, “after all your excellent work today, I’m sure you’ll pull the launch together.”
“I wish I had your confidence. That place was a disaster.” She shakes her head and picks at the label again. “It’s worse than it would have been to start from scratch. It’s like starting half a mile back from the starting line.”
“I’m worried about it too. But we’ll manage it. We have to. I can’t lose Netto.”
I also can’t lose her.
I stare at the blue carpet as silence hangs between us. Just a few days ago I would have given anything to be trapped in a confined space with Charlotte. But right now, there are few things I wouldn’t give to get off this fucking plane and go home.
I jump at Charlotte’s touch on my arm. Her fingers, with beige nails this week, rest gently on my jacket. It’s the first time she’s voluntarily touched me since we were on the bed.
My body reacts of its own free will— a quiver in my chest, a quickening of my pulse. How will I ever make my body listen to reason where Charlotte is concerned?
I slide my eyes up from her hand to her always beautiful face.
“Please don’t think this morning was about me getting a promotion.” There’s hurt behind her full eyes. “It wasn’t. You have no reason to believe me. But it wasn’t.”
All I want to do is entwine my fingers with hers and tell her not to worry about any of it. Not about how hard it will be to get the First Byte hub ready for Monday, not about the ludicrous agreement to keep a firm red line between business and family, not about getting the promotion she so richly deserves.
“But nothing can happen between us, Elliot.” She swallows hard. “Max would dig his heels in somehow. He couldn’t do anything to you, and if he didn’t want to fire me because he needs me, then the only other way he could punish me is to keep me as his assistant forever.”
My stomach drops like we’ve just encountered severe turbulence. “So what are you saying?”
“I’m saying that you’re amazing. You’re the smartest person I know. I love chatting and laughing with you. I love how you tease me. And, man alive, you are hot.”
Just a few hours ago, my heart would have sung at those words, the words I’ve waited years to hear and thought I never would. Words that mean Charlotte feels the same way about me as I do about her. But instead, my heart turns in on itself, sure that’s not the end of her sentence. “There’s a ‘but,’ right?”
Her regret-filled eyes meet mine as she nods ever so slightly. “The only way for me to have the career I want is for Max to promote me. So…” She squeezes my arm so hard her knuckles whiten and my fingers tingle from the pressure. Her eyes are brimming now. “What happened in Plainsville needs to stay in Plainsville.”
So she does want me. But she won’t allow herself to have me.
Now I’m not sure what hurts more—the ache in my back or the one in my chest.
19
ELLIOT
“H
e walks!” Max looks up from the paperwork on his desk and spreads his arms as if beholding a miracle.
I timed my visit to coincide with Charlotte’s lunch break—thankfully she’s a creature of habit.
