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It was a text message from Sutton’s number. But Tatum knew Bryony had sent it.
Miss u Anti Tatim.
“You okay?” Charlie sounded sincerely concerned as he ushered her out the front door of the restaurant. Her hands shook as she shoved her purse strap back over her shoulder and tried to text back.
Where are you?
She tapped send, but her heart plummeted with the whooshing sound the text made as it disappeared. Her niece was bright for a six-year-old. She could read some, but Tatum wasn’t sure she could read the word where. Not to mention, how in the hell would a little kid know where she was, even if she was standing on the Strip in Vegas. If—no—when Sutton saw the texts, she would probably get angry with Bryony.
Maybe she should just call. Maybe Sutton would answer.
“Tatum?”
“What?” She tore her gaze away from her phone, almost surprised to find herself on Maine Street in Long Grove, Illinois. Definitely surprised to see Charlie Murphy, walking beside her, a worried frown causing deep grooves in his forehead.
“What’s going on? Are you okay?”
“No.” She looked at her phone again and then dropped her hand to her side. “No. I’m really not okay.”
From the corner of her eye, she saw him nod. She waited in silence for the next ten steps for him to ask what was wrong. Why she wasn’t okay. When he didn’t, anger flared raw and hot in her chest.
Charlie slowed his steps as they neared the Sage Building. He wasn’t going to walk her all the way to her apartment. Not even inside to the elevator. The realization rubbed her the wrong way, though why it would, she didn’t know. She’d been cold to him the last time he walked her home.
“You have no idea how lucky you are,” she said quietly as she reached for the door. He still didn’t argue. Didn’t comment. When she looked at him, he simply shrugged.
“I’m pretty blessed,” he admitted, “but I do think I’m aware of that.”
“Right.” She nodded. In her experience, no one who grew up with a good family life was aware of his or her blessings. Not in comparison to the way she and Sutton lived. “Tell Mal thanks for dinner.”
“You already did that.”
“That’s right I did. Goodnight, Char—”
“Is it Mal?” he interrupted her.
“Excuse me?”
“Or Sev?”
Spoiling for a fight, Tatum let go of the door handle and turned to face him.
“You wanna fuck one of my brothers? And not me? Is that it?”
Stunned at the cool venom in his words, she started at Charlie silently.
“Let me just remind you, your friend is pretty involved with my brother. Where I come from, friends don’t do that to each other.”
“I don’t wanna fuck Mal.” She spoke softly.
“So, it’s Sev?”
“Please.” She rolled her eyes. “Sev’s a kid, Charlie. He’s just a kid. I’m almost old enough to be his fucking mother.”
“Yeah. Well, doesn’t stop you from all the friendly conversation you indulge in with both of my brothers.” He punctuated his words with a dramatic shrug.
“I didn’t hear any friendly conversation coming from your side of the table all night,” she reminded him.
“Because it finally dawned on me you’re not interested in me. Period.”
