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Breathtaking.
Any of these would work, but he ends up using, “Different.”
There’s a tense smile on her face. “Good different, I hope.”
“Yeah, good different.”
“Can I get you something to drink? Coffee, soda, water?”
“Yeah, a Coke, please,” he replies, without taking his eyes off of her. And I can’t stop watching her, either, looking for a reaction to his presence. How does she really feel about him? Excited to see him? Eager to please? But no… Instead, she’s wearing a tight-lipped grin and looks entirely unnatural in his company.
“I’ll get it,” Charlotte replies eagerly, moving toward the kitchen. She’s trying to leave me and my son together, but he follows her instead of staying with me.
“You two catch up,” I say. “I just finished my workout and I need to go change out of these clothes and get cleaned up. Son, I’ll get you that check when I get back.”
“Sure,” he says to me, and I wish I could say it’s like there is no awkwardness between us, but there is. My son seems to have this idea in his head that by owning a sex club, I’m some sort of monster. Both a pervert and a criminal. There’s nothing I can do to change his mind or make him see differently, and it’s taken half a year of our relationship, but I refuse to believe it’s irreparable.
When I come back down about ten minutes later, I hear them talking in the front room. Stopping in the kitchen, I listen in.
“I feel like such a fuck-up,” he mumbles.
“You’re not a fuck-up,” she replies. “You’re going through a rough patch. You have to live with your mom for a while, so what. It’s not forever. You’ll get back on your feet and everything will be fine.”
The comforting sound of her voice makes me smile.
“I lost my job, my place, you…” His voice trails, and I feel the hairs on my neck rise.
And it dawns on me in that moment—Charlotte means something to Beau. Whether they broke up or not, she means something to him. And quite possibly, he means something to her. How could I get in the middle of that? How could I have even done the things I already have?
“You didn’t lose me,” she replies softly. “We’re still friends, Beau.” Her voice is so low, they sound close together. There’s silence, clothes rustling, movement on the couch, and I wish I could stop myself from listening now.
“Give me another chance,” he mumbles, and I can’t stop myself. Making my steps loud, I walk out of the kitchen, going straight to my desk. I’m not quite sure what I’m doing. Getting Charlotte back with Beau was what I wanted. It’s the whole reason I hired her. It’s what was going to make everything between me and Beau better, so why am I trying to stop it?
They scoot apart on the couch, and I glance up to see her face. She’s glaring at me, eyes wide with an expression of fear as if she’s been caught. And she’s trying to gauge my reaction.
“Sorry to interrupt. Let me get you that check.” Sitting down at my desk, I reach into the top drawer and pull out my checkbook. While I’m filling it out, Beau stands and walks over to me.
He’s positioned a foot or so away. When I glance up at him, I notice his eyes aren’t on me or the check, they’re on my desk. I follow his gaze and am suddenly filled with horror. The form Charlotte filled out is sitting face up on the desk, open to all of those filthy consent questions. Quickly, I grab it and flip it over, but I catch the way he tenses, his eyes narrowing with judgment. My son is disgusted by me. And at the moment, I can’t say I blame him.
Luckily, there’s no way for him to know it’s Charlotte who filled out that form.
“How much do you need?” I ask.
“My half was one thousand.”
My shoulders drop. “How much to get you through the next couple months, son?”
“I don’t need your money,” he snaps.
“I’m not giving it to you because you need it. I’m giving it to you because I want to.”
“Well, I don’t want it.”
“Beau…” Charlotte’s soft voice breaks through as she comes to stand next to him. “He’s just trying to help.”
I wince. The last thing I want is for her to take my side, no matter how good it feels. It will only drive him further away from me.
“He thinks he can pay for everything and that it will just solve all of our problems,” he says, staring coldly at my face.
