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I want to know what her cherry pink lips taste like and I want to feel her shiver from pleasure in my arms. I want to do a lot of things with her, but it will all just be relegated to fantasy now that I know who she is.
Getting involved with my daughter’s best friend is messy enough, not to talk of someone I will be working closely with for the next three months.
They both nod in response to my answer while Ava asks, “What about you?”
“I have a meeting with an investor here,” I tell her. “I’m going to leave you ladies to it.” I outstretch my hand in Charlotte’s direction. “It was nice meeting you, Charlotte.”
Flustered, she slowly places her smaller, softer hand in mine and I feel that jolt of electricity again. It’s stronger now. “Same here, Mr. Young,” she mutters, holding my gaze for a beat before shaking her head. “Um, you can call me Charlie.”
I tilt my head slightly. Does she not like her full name? I think it suits her better. “Then you’re going to have to call me Chris.” Without giving her much time to think about it, I turn and give Ava a kiss on her forehead before walking off.
My lips spread into a smile, because even with my back turned to them, I can still feel Charlotte’s eyes on me. I wonder what is going through her head right now. Is she feeling the same way I’m feeling or am I just imagining the whole thing?
With a shake of my head, I make up my mind to get her out of my head. No good will come out of obsessing over a woman half my age who happens to be friends with my daughter.
The moment I walk into the hotel’s restaurant, the manager rushes towards me, waving the head chef over to us. “Your nine o’clock appointment is already here, sir,” he tells me and I nod.
The only reason he even recognizes me is because I am a regular customer at the hotel. Also, once you pay for the largest suite more than three times, you are bound to get noticed by the hotelier himself.
I’m led to the farthest table in the corner where Dr. Trina Smith is already seated. She rises to her feet when she sees me approaching and extends her hand for a handshake, which I take.
“Dr. Young, it’s an honor to finally meet you,” she says, biting her red-painted lips. Dressed in a blue power suit with her brown hair cascading down her back, she looks every bit of the formidable woman she’s acclaimed to be.
“The pleasure is mine,” I respond without a smile as we both take our seats.
I haven’t had any reason to smile in a long time.
3
CHARLOTTE
It’s been two days since I bumped into Ava’s father in the bathroom of the hotel where the conference was held. Still, I haven’t completely gotten over the embarrassment that engulfed me the moment I realized who he was.
I had shamelessly ogled every inch of my best friend’s father down to his most intimate part. He also happens to be the sole owner of numerous microbiology labs all over the continent, one of which I applied to be a part of for three months.
The moment he left Ava and I to attend the meeting, I became utterly distraught. I knew for sure that he wasn’t going to consider my application, not after I had so carelessly displayed my attraction to him in the bathroom. I had even stopped checking my phone for the email notification, much to Ava’s surprise.
Of course, I couldn’t tell her why I had given up on my dream. It would ruin our friendship and I doubt she’d even let me anywhere near her father after she found out.
As much as I can’t get over the embarrassment, I also can’t stop thinking about him. His voice, his gaze, his touch, his scent… everything about him is perfect. And my god, he looked nothing like a fifty-one year old man. The only indication of his age is the smatter of gray strands mixed with his luscious, perfect, dark hair. If anything, the gray hair made him look even sexier.
Determined to get thoughts of Christopher Young out of my head, I pay more attention to the complicated art piece in front of me, tilting my head to get a better perspective. My eyes stray to the entrance of the art gallery, wondering why on earth my best friend hasn’t made an appearance yet.
We had both been invited to this showcase and while I love art, the invite had come from my ex-boyfriend. Ava, who doesn’t care for art as much, had promised to come with me so I wouldn’t feel awkward and alone in the midst of James’ paintings. James had been one of those exes that breaking up with was actually painful. We had been perfect for each other, too good to be true, and everything was going great until he asked me to marry him.
Not only would I have had to take some time off my PhD program, which is the same as abandoning my career to me, but I would also have been going against my view on marriage. Spending the rest of my life with one person, to me, equates to being locked in a cage while my wings flutter weakly, begging for flight.
In the end, I broke up with him and avoided him like a plague on campus, until Ava and I ran into him a few days ago.
I pull out my phone from my purse and dial Ava’s number. “Hey,” I start when she picks up. “Where the hell are you? You promised to be here with me today.”
“Hello?” Her voice comes out groggy and tired.
“Ava!” I whisper-yell into the phone, already regretting my decision to attend my ex-boyfriend’s art exhibit. “Did you even leave Damon’s apartment yet?”
She had gone off with one of her many friends with benefits the previous night and hadn’t returned home, which is why I left our apartment in the hopes that she’d meet me here.
Her gasp echoes through the speaker and I hear the hasty rustling of clothes. “Oh my god, Charlie, I’m so sorry. I completely forgot. Are you there already?”
