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After that fateful day, her sheer craving for him had been unbearable as she’d waited every day for the warehouse to close early during its winter hours. When everyone had left, she would go to Asher in his office and they would spend all evening making love. Occasionally she would convince him to come back to the Della-wisp with her, but Asher had never once taken her to his own home in Charleston. He’d never asked her personal questions, never asked about her past. She’d almost forgotten she had one, which had been a heady feeling.
“I called you yesterday,” she said.
“I know. I’ve been busy.”
“It was only because I need contact information for Benny, the wood-carver who had the booth across from mine.”
Asher crossed his arms on his chest and rocked back on his heels, considering the request. “Why would you need Benny’s contact information?”
He was going to make this hard. She tamped down the urge to bean him with her helmet. “Obviously, because I need to contact him.”
“But why?”
“That’s my business.”
“I saw you leave together yesterday. He helped you move.”
“Asher,” she said with a sigh, “the sooner you give me his number and address, the sooner I’ll leave.”
Asher smiled slightly, a smile that met his gray eyes, a quirk of his facial musculature that always made him seem sincere. It was an amazing thing to watch, how quickly he could turn on the charm. “Maybe I don’t want you to leave.”
But she felt no stirring of desire anymore, which, perversely, gave her hope. Because how much easier would life be if she never felt longing for anything ever again? For a woman who wanted no connections, she still found herself caught up in them with men, and they were always like this—burning hot then just as quickly burning out. Maybe Asher had cured her. Maybe it was all out of her system and she could finally be the person teenaged Charlotte had wanted to be. “So, how far along is Paige now?” she asked.
He took a small step toward her. “You know it’s not the same with her.”
Actually, she didn’t. Asher had known his fiancée Paige was pregnant when he’d started seeing Charlotte. It waswhyhe’d started seeing her. In his man-child world, he thought falling back on old habits meant he didn’t have to face his future responsibilities. But Charlotte hadn’t even known therewasa Paige. “That won’t work now, Asher,” she said. “Not everything is that easy, even for you.”
He leaned in and said softly into her ear, “Oh, Charlotte, you were very, very easy.”
She pulled back and stared at him with disgust.
From behind her, Charlotte heard a voice say, “Asher. Paige and I just got back from her doctor’s appointment. She’s in the coffee shop. Go join her.”
Charlotte turned to see an older woman with bleached society hair standing there. She was wearing a short A-line dress and beige heels—something since arriving in South Carolina Charlotte had come to think of as the Wealthy Southern Woman Uniform. Asher smiled at his mother and kissed her on the cheek as he passed.
Margot waited until he disappeared before turning to Charlotte. “Can I help you with something, Charlotte?”
Okay, she would try this again. “I need contact information for someone who used to work here. Benny. He had a booth across from mine.”
A flit of suspicion crossed her face. “Why are you looking for him?”
Not wanting to get into the details with Margot any more than she did with Asher, she said, “He helped me move. But I can’t find something important now, and I need to ask him if he knows where it is.”
Margot seemed to consider that. “You don’t need his contact information,” she finally said. “He’s working here at Usher’s Woodworks now.”
Charlotte frowned. That didn’t make any sense. If he already had another job here, why did he talk about finding space somewhere else with her? And was he really stupid enough to think she wouldn’t find him right back where they’d started?
She turned to walk away, but Margot caught her by the arm with her tanned, veiny hand. “I don’t apologize for Asher, ever. I know the kind of man he is. I’m married to the kind of man he is. But I have a grandchild on the way any day now, and I’ll protect that, even if he won’t. I know what it feels like when someone betrays you. You’ll get past this. And you’ll get past it even sooner if you never come back here.”
It was such an absurd notion that rich, in-control Margot, who’d had the privilege of choices all her life, could teach Charlotte anything about surviving betrayal. Charlotte had survived her childhood. Margot would never know the strength it had taken to do that. Charlotte extricated her arm.
“I’m already past this,” she said, walking away and grabbing a directory off the desk as she went.
She checked the directory and located Usher’s. It was one of the larger booths, selling handmade chairs. But it looked like they were now including smaller cash-and-carry things like figurines. Benny was sitting at a long table with some other wood-carvers, carving his signature birds. He was young and handsome, but he had roughed himself up in that way pretty men sometimes do when they want to hide their prettiness—long hair, scrawny beard, tattoos. He’d seemed like such a nice guy, a little immature maybe, but not capable of stealing.
Whatwas he doing back here?
When she stopped in front of him, he looked up and the color left his face. She stared back, waiting.
