I laugh trying to shake it off, “It’s not that big of a deal.” It really isn’t. “I’m just doing him a favor really.”
“Spill!” Diane says. “We all want to know how you managed to snare him.”
My gaze narrows at the manner in which Diane just made that statement. How could a girl like me snare a man like him? Insecurity steeps through every inch of me slowly. I didn’t. I couldn’t. That’ s how. I’ll be damned if that doesn’t hurt to admit. I won’t; I take another sip instead, pretending that the truth doesn’t feel like stepping into a cold ice bath.
“Don’t say it like that,” Karan says to Diane before turning back to face me. “Jeez. She didn’t mean it like that, Grace.”
“Right,” I chuckle and sip my water again, it’s nearly gone already. With a careless shrug from Diane and a, “I’m just curious,” response from her, the hurt turns to anger. I’m pissed at Diane, but there’s no reason to start a fight over something so small. Jealous much? My inner voice snarks. I let the tension out of my shoulders as I grip the cup with both hands and lean against the counter.
“I’d still like to hear,” Elaine says, blushing. “I mean, Charlie is grade A hot.”
“So tell us,” Diane commands.
“He invited me to his sister’s wedding,” I say. “It’s not really a date—”
The girls howl appreciatively, which makes me smile. That bit of happiness coming back.
“He invited you to a wedding because he’s trying to tell you how he feels!” Elaine says, excited. Elaine’s blush is contagious, finding its way to my face. She’s so sweet and is constantly reading those romance novels with hot men on the covers during her lunch break. She’s a romantic at heart, but I like the way she thinks.
“No, he invited her because he knows that weddings are an amorous atmosphere, and he wants to get in her pants.” Karan corrects with a growing smile.
“Ohh, psshh,” I say. “He needed to get his family off his back, so he said he was bringing someone. And then he invited me. I’m telling you, it’s decidedly not amorous and if he wanted to get into my pants he didn’t have to go through all that.”
“So you wouldn’t mind if another guest put the moves on him, then?” Diane asks pointedly.
“I… It’s not like…” I say. My body stiffens. What the hell has gotten into Diane? I swear some days I wonder why she even talks to me.
“Of course she would mind!” Karan protests for me. “Have you seen Charlie? Because he’s got amazing biceps, and an ass that won’t quit. Give the girl a chance to get some, Diane!”
“I’m just asking,” Diane says, putting her hands up. “Speaking of that ass, I’m planning to go to Mac's tonight to see it in action. You in?”
“Definitely,” Karan says.
“Sure!” Elaine adds.
“Umm…” I say, unsure. “You know, I’m just not feeling it tonight, guys.” The idea of Diane anywhere around Charlie sends that spike of anger back. I don’t need to see that, not with how tired I am and all these feelings that bubble up every time I hear his name.
“Are you sure? Your man will be there,” Karan says with a twinkle in her eyes.
“She said she’s not feeling it,” Diane cuts in. “So let’s let her get back to work.”
“If you’re sure…” Karan says.
“Totally,” I say. “You guys have fun.” I don’t think I can handle being around Charlie right now. It’s definitely an uneven relationship in terms of how much we like each other, and I can already see myself getting hurt. Neither of us mentioned his mother and sister after they left. It’s like we’re pretending none of it happened and we’re just our flirty normal selves. But there was that kiss.
Charlie
Eight o’clock passes.
Nine o’clock has come and gone.
My shift is done. I told them all I was heading out early, but here I am, still waiting. I was hoping to take Grace out to dinner. Somewhere other than here to make up for my sister and her antics.
But she hasn’t showed. She didn’t come in last night either, even though some of her coworkers did. I have a sick feeling in my gut telling me something’s wrong.
I finally give in and reach into my pocket for my phone to text her.
“You alright?” Maggie asks me as the denim rubs against my fingers as I pull the phone out of my back pocket.
“Yeah, fine,” I answer as she sets an order of wings down in front of Mickey. The sound of the plate hitting the table forces me look up at her. She smiles as she scoots the plate closer to him and addresses me.
“You don’t look fine. Go home.”
I stare at her, but she doesn’t back down. “I’m going, just making sure a friend’s not on her way.”
“A friend?” Maggie’s eyes light up. “Your little Grace?”
I don’t like how she says it with that teasing tone. As if she knows something I don’t.
“Yeah, her name’s Grace.” I hold her gaze, but Maggie’s not affected in the least.
“You go on and message her then,” she says, then leaves a bit slower and a bit happier than she came. Out of habit, I take a look around and notice Mickey looking up at me with a smile. It occurs to me that word is probably getting around about the two of us. Shit.
I shift my weight and look down at the phone. This wasn’t meant to be anything. She’s just a sweet girl to flirt with. We don’t want the same things. That last statement resonates and makes me feel like an asshole. What the hell am I doing? I almost put the phone back in my pocket. If Grace wanted to see me, she’d be here.
Almost. I almost don’t message her. But fuck that, I want to see her.
I took the first night off that I’ve had in a long damn time to see her. Maybe I didn’t text her, since I assumed she’d come in like she usually does, but I have the balls to ask her. Right fucking now.
My body heats as I type in the message.
Missing you, sweetheart. I’m getting off work and wondering where you are.
I regret sending it pretty much as soon as it goes on the screen. It’s not like she’s obligated to be here. I let out a heavy sigh, hating that all of this feels so suffocating. It’s been five years since I… I don’t even know what I’m doing. Asking her on a date, I guess. A real one, not just to be my fake date for a wedding.
Sorry Charlie, I went home tonight.
A frown tips my lips down, and that sick feeling comes back to me. I clear my throat and type back without thinking.
I was hoping I’d see you. Now I don’t have a dinner date. :( Again, I immediately regret my decision. A sad face? Really? Throwing my head back I grip my phone like I want to strangle it. What is it with this woman?
A dinner date? Or a fake dinner date?
I thought the food would be real… I’m playful in my text back, trying to keep the conversation lighthearted.
You make me smile. I can see her doing just that. Smiling as she reads the message.