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Me: What’s going on?
She replied almost instantly.
Charlie: Nash drop off the bag?
Me: Yes. What’s going on?
Charlie: I know I don’t deserve this, but I really need to talk to you.
Sighing, I typed my reply, hitting each key a little too hard.
Me: And you need me in a suit to talk? I don’t have time for games,
Charlie. I’m tired of playing them because neither of us ever wins.
My phone rang, and it was her name flashing on the screen. I knew the moment I heard her voice, I’d do whatever she wanted.
“I’m busy at work. What’s this about, Charlie?”
“The voicemail you left me, where you said you loved me.”
My heart jumped to my throat, and I couldn’t find the words to speak.
“Do you still feel that way?”
Closing
my eyes, I replied in a whisper, “Yes.”
“Then please do this for me. I’ll explain everything when you get here.”
She ended the call without even saying goodbye.
“Fuck!” I cried out, dropping the phone onto my desk. “Goddamnit, why is Charleston Monroe my fucking weakness?”
I had no idea who I was asking since I was alone in my office.
Glancing at my watch, it was two thirty. Nash said a limo would be out front at three. Standing, I headed over to the garment bag and zipped it open. It was one of my suits. Nash must have taken it from my closet.
With a heavy sigh, I took it out, headed to the private bathroom in my office, and changed. Luckily, Nash put shoes in the bottom of the bag. Once I was dressed, I took a look at myself in the mirror. I hadn’t shaved in two days and a good amount of scruff was on my face. My hair was in need of a cut and looked like I just rolled out of bed. But doing a once-over of myself in the mirror, I still looked pretty good. Had a bad-boy vibe going on, and I kind of liked that.
Grabbing my phone and wallet, I left my truck keys since I would be heading off in a limo. Where in the hell was I going, and what was going on?
As I made my way through the bar, I got a few whistles.
“Damn, look at you, boss!” one of the bartenders called out.
“Sign me up for a piece of you, honey.”
That one I had no idea who had said it, and since the only people in the bar were my employees, I chose not to look around.
Before walking out the front door, I tossed over my shoulder, “I’ll be back later.”
“Have fun!” a few voices called out as I stepped out of the building and headed toward the black limo that was already parked out front. The driver stepped out, opened the back door, and motioned for me to get in.
Once I got in, the man was in the driver’s seat and talking to me over an intercom.
“Mr. Middleton, there is champagne chilled if you’d like some.”
