“Divorce is very common these days.”
I almost slice my finger off cutting the bread. “What do you mean?”
She pulls the cutting board to her side of the counter and takes over for me. “I mean, how do I know that I’m not going to wake up tomorrow and you’re gonna be like this isn’t gonna work for me, here’s your paycheck, thanks for the good times?”
“Saying ‘trust me’ isn’t going to work, is it?” She’s always been on the outside looking in, and the way that I started this relationship doesn’t give her a lot of confidence.
“Probably not.” She pushes the board back to me, the bread all evenly sliced.
I toast the bread and make a sauce while Belle gathers up plates and napkins.
“It’s legit of you to have doubts, and I think the only thing that will change your mind is time, but us being together makes the most sense, right?”
“The place is big enough for two of us,” she agrees.
That’s probably her subtle way of saying we should have separate bedrooms. I don’t push my luck, though. I cut the meatand start putting the sandwich together. She plates the meal, and we sit down to eat. I wonder if she notices how seamlessly we work as a team.
“I think the charity ball should be our first date,” I say in between bites.
“A ball?” She winces.
“Last time was a debacle, but it’s a good way for people to find out that I don’t have warts all over my body.”
“How will you convince people that you are Charles Wickham? At the luncheon, no one believed you.”
“Fortunately for both of us, I actually know the director of the charity. We went to school together, so she will vouch for us, but first, let’s get you a dress.”
Chapter Nineteen
ANNABELLE
Charles is quick. I thought I could multitask, but he has a million things going at once, like a couple of men bringing over some of his things, along with speaking to a few retailers about us coming in to find me a dress. This is all moving fast, but I have to say, his determination does bring me comfort. He wants this and is moving full steam ahead.
I was happy that he came back so quickly. I know I told him I needed time to think, but the opposite might be true. Oftentimes I tend to let myself get too far into my own thoughts.
“I know you think the office is too big for you and only your laptop, but I would enjoy sharing it with you.” The way his eyes soften around the edges when he talks to me has me agreeing. I love that he wants to be in my space. That he’s making such a big effort to know the real me.
I have to say, seeing him large and in charge is a turn-on. One I didn’t think could be, but a lot of things he does simply do it for me. I notice his shift in demeanor and even his tone when he speaks to me compared to when he speaks to others. I love that I get this softer side of him.
With everyone else, it's the orders and the finality with which he speaks. With me, he wants my response and then maneuversfrom there; what I want is more important to him than his own wants.
“That would be nice.” If he was in there, I would enjoy that more. He nods and gives one of the movers direction.
“Now the dresses. I can set us up to go into the store, or I could see about having them brought here.”
“About that—” I shift on my feet. “The places you called are really fancy.” I’ve been to places like that with my sisters, and I’ve never had a great experience. I’ve always felt as though I didn’t fit in. Mostly because my sisters made me feel that way, but the salespeople also turned their noses up at me.
“Belle, don't worry about that. The money is nothing to me.”
“It's not that; I just know I'll be awkward. I have this wholePretty Womanscene going through my head.”
“You're not a prostitute, nor would I hire one.” His expression grows serious. “I am a married man, after all.” I snort a laugh.
“But I mean…” I motion from him to me. “You did kind of pay me.”
“Belle, I would?—”
“Charles, I'm messing with you about that, but it still stands that I think it will be really awkward for me.”
