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“That surprises me,” I say, then sip my beer.
“He doesn’t have trouble meeting them. I’m not going to lie to you because he wouldn’t. The man has a lot of opportunities. He’s taken advantage of some of these opportunities before.” He coughs. “But that’s not who he really is. He’s more of a one-woman kind of guy. I admit I didn’t understand that kind of thinking before. I thought he was nuts but to each his own.”
Sitting back in my chair to get more comfortable, I can tell this isn’t going to be a short story. I wave my hand for him to stop rambling and get to the point.
“So I gave him my lucky rabbit’s foot and told him it would bring him luck in the love department.”
I take a swig of my drink because I think I know exactly where this story is headed. I can’t resist a good love story, though, so I have to ask, “And did he? Did he find love?”
“Are you always this slow?”
I narrow my eyes at him. “Do women put up with your rudeness?”
“The truth, Charlie, and I’m not here to talk about me. Do you really not know?”
“What? What am I supposed to say here? What do you want to hear? Are you here to break the news that he’s met someone, and they’re together, and his world is perfect now?”
I start to stand, but he grabs my wrist. “Stubborn is putting it mildly. Hostile might fit better.”
I roll my eyes and lean down, both hands flat on the table. “Tell me the moral of the story, Conner.”
“Do you have the rabbit’s foot on you now?”
He’s more intuitive than I guessed for someone as shallow as he is. I sit back down, hugging my purse, and stare at him for a minute.
He nods his head, knowing the answer before I have to say it. “Did I hit a homer? Strike gold? Win the golden ticket?”
I drop my handbag on the table, dig inside the interior pocket, and pull out the neon orange rabbit’s foot keychain. I hold it up by the little chain, and we both smile.
He pats the table with his hand twice and stands up. “I think you know deep down what the moral of this story is. If you don’t, I suggest you spend some time to figure it out.” He walks backward right past me, heading for the door. He turns around and struts with confidence, which is really annoying in a funny kind of way.
“Hey?” I yell. “Don’t you want your lucky rabbit’s foot back?”
He turns his back to the door and opens it with his backside. “Nope, I think you need it more than I do.” And even though it’s dark outside, he drops his shades down from the top of his head, covering his eyes, and walks out.
I let the chain of the rabbit’s foot slide over my finger and twirl it around several times before dropping it back into my purse and leaving the bar.
Chapter 32
Charlie B
Friday doesn’t turn out the way I planned at all. Rachel knocks on my door just before ten with a mocha in hand for me. Maybe she wants to bribe me or cancel our plans for the night.
“Irene wasn’t at her desk, so I came on in. Hope you don’t mind?” she asks, walking into my office.
Having an assistant is nice, but sometimes I miss the casualness of the two of us talking over our cubicle walls. “You know you can walk in here, Rach. Ooh, thanks for the coffee.” I take the cup from her and smile.
She remains standing, awkwardly shifting from foot to foot. My stomach sinks when she struggles to say what she came to say.
“Justin just called.” She watches for my reaction as if I will shatter into a million pieces from hearing that her boyfriend called her.
“And?” I shrug, confused as to why she’s being so careful with her words.
She finally sits down on the other side of the desk and leans forward. Placing her hand on top of mine, she speaks in a hushed tone. “I know you’re not comfortable talking about Charlie.”
I’m starting to lose my patience because she’s making me nervous, especially with an opener like that. Sitting back in my chair, I cross my arms defensively over my chest and ask, “What is it, Rachel? Just say it.”
“Well, we both think that Charlie might need you.”
“Need me . . . how?”
I knew what I wanted to do as soon as she explained the situation. It’s what I need to do for Charlie, what I know Charlie would do for me. He’d go. He’d go at the risk of being rejected. So I’ll go, too, and take that same risk.
What if Charlie doesn’t want to see me or doesn’t want me there? What if he invites a woman or has a girlfriend?
