“I never thought about that,” she muses quietly. “If I had to choose which of my senses I had to lose, I’d pick taste.”
“Taste?”
“Yeah. I’ve had things in my mouth that looked really good but tasted crap.”
I heave out a breath, gripping the steering wheel tightly to make sure I don’t steer us into a tree.
“Can’t say the same,” I choke out.
It isn’t an act she’s putting on. She truly says these things without realising the significance or how they might be interpreted.
“There’s still time,” she mutters.
This woman. This beautiful, kind-hearted soul, fascinates me. She has the most outrageous stories to share, and if it wasn’t for knowing Landon and their family’s reputation, I’d think it was all made up.
But it isn’t.
And for that, I want to know everything about her. I want to know what drives her, what got her to this point and where she’s going. I want to know it all.
Which is what we do for the rest of the car drive. We spend time getting to know each other, laughing and joking, and sometimes, she’ll drift off, humming along to a song on the radio.
She more than fascinates me. She captivates me in a way no other has.
And I can’t wait to get to know her more.
*** *** ***
I place my hand on the centre of Charlotte’s back, guiding her to the lavish, marble reception area. “Hi, we are here for the Wyatt and Simmons’ engagement party.”
The dark-haired, middle-aged receptionist pastes on a kind smile and points to a corridor. “If you follow the hallway down, you’ll come to a lobby. The party is being held in the banquet hall. There are signs leading to it, so you won’t get lost.”
“Thank you.”
“This is really posh,” Charlotte comments, glancing up at the high ceilings.
“My mother wouldn’t have it any other way,” I admit, frowning at the awful gold sculpture of a guy holding an apple.
To me, it seems a bit much. What happened to a good old piss up and a DJ?
I nod in greeting to a few guests I recognise as family friends, our exchanges never moving past acknowledgements.
Once we hit the lobby, I notice my mother straight away. She’s speaking to one of Wesley’s investors.
“This way,” I whisper, quickly bypassing more guests to get inside the main room. I spot my sister straight away. She’s stunning in her cream dress, her hair and makeup done to perfection. She stands elegantly and regal, born for crowds like this. She knows when to nod, when to smile, and when to laugh. It’s her expression that gives everything away though. There’s a tightness around her eyes, a forcefulness to her laugh, and if you know her and pay close attention like me, it’s the way she leans against her fiancé, Joseph. She’s paying no real attention to the couple in front of them. Joseph, however, is, and every now and then, he squeezes the top of her arm subtly.
I grin when she pastes on a fake smile. “That’s Alison, my sister who is getting married,” I point out to Charlotte.
When she leans in closer, I almost stiffen. “Is she being forced to marry? Because she looks like she’d rather be anywhere but here.”
I chuckle. “She just needs saving,” I explain. I absently reach for her hand and feel her stiffen beside me. “Is this okay?”
She opens and closes her mouth for a moment before nodding. “I mean, I am supposed to be your girlfriend-slash-date.”
“That you are,” I whisper.
“Did you say something?”
“Nah,” I lie, as we make our way to my sister.
Her entire face lights up when she spots me, and she quickly says something to the couple in front of her. She steps away elegantly but the minute she’s out of their space, she dashes through the crowded tables.
I let go of Charlotte when she nears, and reach for my sister, swinging her up in my arms. “You having a good night?”
“It would be the best if Mum and Dad hadn’t invited all of their colleagues.”
“Did you expect anything else?” I ask, as I place her on her feet.
She lets out a sigh. “No.”
“Come and meet my date, Charlotte,” I tell her, stepping back so she has a clear view of her.
She steps forward, her eyes wide. “Hi, I’m Alison, it’s lovely to meet you.”
“I’m Charlotte, and it’s lovely to meet you too. This is a lovely party.”
Alison waves her off. “This isn’t my normal style but I don’t care as long as I’m with Joseph.”
“That is so romantic,” Charlotte breathes out before shaking herself out of it. “We bought this for you. It’s Rose Quartz. It cultivates love and will bring it to your home and relationship.”
Alison takes the bag from her hand, her lips parted. “Thank you so much. This is so kind of you.”
“It wasn’t all me. Drew helped too,” Charlotte lies, and it’s easily read.
Alison laughs. “No, he didn’t, but thank you,” she tells her, before lightly punching me in the arm. “You didn’t get me a gift?”
I rub the back of my neck. “I didn’t know I had to,” I admit, before I notice Joseph walking past. I grab him by his suit jacket, pulling him beside me. I grin at Alison as she rolls her eyes. “I got you him.”
“No, I got him myself, but nice save,” she comments, before I notice her stiffen, a change coming over her that she only gets around one person.
Our sister. Her twin.
I turn, pasting on a fake smile. “Natalie,” I greet, before moving beside Charlotte.
Her gaze runs over Charlotte, her lip curling. “This is your date?”
I narrow my gaze. “Don’t start.”
“I’m not; I just didn’t think you’d actually find someone off the street.”
“We actually met at his gym,” Charlotte interrupts. “I’m Charlotte, by the way.”
When Natalie ignores her outstretched hand and runs her gaze once more over Charlotte’s attire, I grit my teeth.
“Really?” she says.
Charlotte nods, the passive-aggressive comment going over her head. “Yes. My cousin is co-owner now.”
Natalie looks to me. “So, this is a pity date?”
“Natalie, not tonight,” Alison snaps.
“Are you angry with me?” Charlotte blurts out. “I can’t tell. But if I’ve offended you, I’m sorry.”
I burst out laughing, pulling Charlotte against me. She fits so easily, her head resting over my heart.
Alison ducks her head, struggling to keep her laughter at bay.
Natalie steps forward, her hands balled into fists. “Excuse me?”
Charlotte points to her face. “Your face isn’t moving, so I can’t tell what you’re feeling. Your tone says angry, but your face… there’s not a lot going on.”
“What?” Natalie gawks, her face reddening.
“Oh my God,” I murmur, struggling to keep the laughter inside.
“Your expression— You don’t have one.”
Natalie takes a step forward, her hand rising. I quickly spin, pulling Charlotte away before Natalie causes a fight she will definitely lose. Charlotte might look timid and shy, but I have seen her punch the punching bag, and it was not pretty. Natalie has none of that inside her. All she has is hate and self-loathing, which she tries to dress up with plastic surgery and fillers and a lot of vulgar behaviour.