“Women talk. But I’m starting to think Darlene made the whole thing up.”
I sighed, backing away from the door. I didn’t want to fight, not when we had so little time. “Fine. Fine. I’ll stay out here. You don’t have to change.”
“Yes, I do. I can’t have you looking prettier than me.” She stepped back, winking, and promptly closed the door.
Dutifully, I pulled out my keys and walked back to the truck, careful not to make too much noise as I shut my door. If her mother knew I was still out here, she’d come out to say hi. I wasn’t at all against saying hi to Ms. Mitchell, but I knew Charlotte didn’t want to give her mother a chance to be a third wheel and invite herself—and maybe the kids—along on our date.
Sooner than I’d expected, Charlotte was dashing from her house and jogging to my truck, pantomiming “turn the engine.”
As soon as she hopped inside, she said, “Floor it! The old woman is after me.”
I chuckled, but I didn’t floor it. Instead, I pulled out of the spot nice and slow, and only after Charlotte had buckled her seatbelt.
“What is wrong with you? I told you to floor it.”
“I can’t floor it. This truck is an antique.”
“You need a new car.”
“I love this car.” I petted the dashboard. “Don’t listen to her, baby. She doesn’t know you like I do.”
“I’m feeling a little jealous of this truck.” She gave me a side-eye even as she laughed good-naturedly, then pulled down the visor to check her makeup in the mirror. “Which color? Rambunctious Red or Pernicious Pink?”
“Pardon?”
“I haven’t put on lipstick yet. Which one goes better with what I’m wearing?”
“Uh . . .” I hadn’t paid much attention to what she’d changed into, so I tried to sneak a look. “Sorry, let me get to a stop sign.”
“Never mind. Pernicious Pink it is.”
“Always a solid choice.”
She snorted but said nothing. We drove for a bit in silence as she applied her lipstick. Charlotte didn’t live too far from the restaurant, and before we’d settled into any kind of real conversation, I’d parked, taking note of the cars in the lot.
“I think that’s Jethro Winston’s truck,” I said, not cutting the engine, my mouth suddenly dry.
“So it is,” she agreed, sounding distracted. “And—uh—look at that. There’s Ashley Winston’s—I mean Ashley Runous’s—car. They must be having a family dinner.”
I struggled to swallow. “Maybe we should go somewhere else.”
“What? Why?”
“It’s probably crowded.”
“I thought you ‘ordered ahead and they’re expecting us.’” She quoted my earlier words, infusing a good dose of Charlotte attitude.
I leveled her a flat look, and she stuck her tongue out.
“Real mature, Charlotte.”
“What do you want? I’m surrounded by other people’s children all day at the elementary school and my own at home. You’re lucky my hands aren’t sticky.” She unclicked her seatbelt and opened her door, which made me frown.
“Hold on a sec.” I cut the engine and hopped out, jogging around to Charlotte’s side. “Let me get the door.”
“You know, I can get my own door,” she said, hiking up her skirt to climb down from the passenger seat.
“Yes, but I like getting the door.”
“Instead of getting my door, why don’t you give me something I really want?”
“Oh yeah, like what?” I offered my elbow, which she took.
“I don’t know, a massage? I haven’t had a massage in ages.”
Oh. That’s easy to fix. “Sure thing.” I shrugged.
“Really?” She smiled at me, her eyes widening again like they had earlier when I’d suggested we go back to my place. “You’d give me a massage?”
“Yeah. There’s that spa my momma likes in Knoxville. I’m sure they have massages. I’ll get you a gift certificate.”
Charlotte made a face, her shoulders slumping. “Oh. Sure.”
“What? Is there a different place you want to try?” I opened the door of the restaurant for her, and she filed in, walking straight to the hostess stand to check us in, my question apparently forgotten. No matter. I added Get Charlotte a gift certificate for a massage to my mental task list.
While she spoke with Hannah Townsen, I did a quick sweep of the restaurant, spotting Cletus Winston and Drew Runous—Ashley’s husband—almost immediately. They were standing near a cluster of benches where folks waited to be seated. Holding my breath, I searched the rest of their party, bracing myself for—
Long dark hair. Smooth, tan skin. Addictive, musical laugh and voice.
“Crap.” My stomach stiffened. Actually, it was the area south of my stomach that stiffened.
“What?” Charlotte had come to my side without me noticing.
“Uh—” I shook my head to clear it, determined not to look over at Raquel again “—it’s crowded. I think we should go somewhere else.”
“It’s not that crowded. And where else would we go? And we have a reservation. Hannah said our table is almost—” She cut herself off with a gasp. “Oh my gosh! Is that Raquel Ezra?”
Crap, crap, crap. “Appears to be.”
“I’d heard she was in town. Marina Simmons said her brother said she was at the station today. I can’t believe she’s standing right there. She’s so—gosh—she’s stunning.”
“Most movie stars are generally considered pretty.” I plucked a menu from the holder by the door and studied it.
“What? No. She’s not pretty. That word does not apply here. That woman is full-blown gorgeous. Striking, you know? Like she’s so beautiful, she doesn’t look real.”
I grunted, staring at the menu I’d memorized when I was ten.
“Jackson, what is wrong with you?”
“Pardon?” I flicked my attention up to Charlotte and then promptly returned it to the menu.
“I know you’re her biggest fan.”
I opened my mouth. No sound arrived.
Charlotte huffed. “You used to drag me and Zora and all the other women in your harem to every one of her movies on opening night.” She hit my shoulder and then slid her palm down my bicep, gripping my forearm. “You have to go over there and introduce yourself, say hi, say something. When will you ever get another chance?”
I dug my heals in, a flare of straight-up panic clogging my airway. “No, no. That’s okay.”
“What?”
I allowed my eyes to flick up for the barest of seconds. “She’s here with the Winstons.”
“So?”
“So, uh, you know. Jethro and I don’t always get along—”
“Oh, come on, that’s all in the past. And Cletus is there. I know you two are basically best friends these days. Here, let’s go say hi.”
“No.”
Charlotte grew still, except her lashes, which blinked rapidly. “Is it because Ashley is there with Drew?” she asked, her voice gentle. “Does seeing them together make you uncomfortable?”