Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 117574 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 588(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 392(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117574 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 588(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 392(@300wpm)
“Carlo,” Charlotte murmurs under her breath. “What’s he doing here?” She sounds distressed to see the man, whoever he is. On an exhale, Charlotte straightens up, smooths her palms down her sweatpants, and mutters, “Fuck.”
11
CHARLOTTE
“Hey, sweetheart,” Carlo says. “You’re looking beautiful, as always.”
I’m quaking with nerves. I look past Carlo’s broad shoulder, praying he’s not here with one of his colleagues. When the coast seems clear, I accept his bear hug with a fake smile. I’m not sure how he tracked me down. He’s definitely got a knack for that. Even more importantly, though, why did he track me down? When he found me hiding in that hotel room in New York City, he said he’d give me two months to pay back all the money—and I’ve still got a solid five weeks to pull a rabbit out of my hat.
“You found me,” I say, trying to sound relaxed and playful. But to my chagrin, my voice comes out stressed and anxious. I add quickly, “Not that I was hiding from you. How are you?”
“Fan-fucking-tastic.” Carlo motions behind me in the storage unit. “Who’s this?”
Shit. In my panic, I forgot Auggie was here. I turn and find Auggie holding Lucky—with both of them wearing the same wary expression. Yet again, I try to sound light and bright as I say, “Carlo, this is my next-door neighbor, Auggie. We met the other day when I moved into my new place. He’s a vet student. That’s his dog, Lucky. He’s a rescue and who knows what he’s been through, because he’s terrified of strangers, so don’t take it personally when he gives you the stink-eye.”
Crap. I’m rambling from nerves. I do that sometimes, especially lately. I need to pull myself together and remain calm. Let Carlo explain what he’s doing here. For all I know, he’s in Seattle on business and didn’t come here specifically to see me—but while he’s here, anyway, he decided to track me down to say a simple hello. In this storage unit. Out of nowhere. Shit. Suddenly, more words spew out of me before Carlo has even replied to my prior ones. “Auggie, my new, next-door neighbor here, has been kind enough to help me sort through all of these boxes because some of them are too heavy for me to lift by myself.”
Carlo waits a beat, like he’s making sure I’ve finished speaking. Finally, he smiles and says calmly, “Hello, Auggie. Nice to meet you. I’m Carlo, Charlotte’s good friend and former boyfriend.”
“Hey, Carlo. Nice to meet you.”
As the two men shake hands, I ask, “How are Genevieve and the baby?”
“Both great. Thanks for the baby blanket and that cute little stuffed unicorn. Genevieve really appreciated the gesture, Charlotte.”
“My pleasure. I’m thrilled for you both.” There was a time when I stupidly thought Carlo was husband material—the man who’d most likely father my future babies. But the minute I found out the truth about what he does for a living, that idea went right out the window, along with our relationship. Now, I can’t even imagine giving birth to this man’s baby and tying myself to him, and his dark world, forevermore.
“I came to give you something,” Carlo says, and every cell in my body seizes in panic as he reaches into his suit pocket. To my relief, though, Carlo pulls out nothing but a small envelope. With a grin, he says, “You’re hereby invited to Bella’s tenth birthday party.”
A tsunami of relief slams into me. I forgot it was Bella’s birthday month! Carlo’s beloved niece still thinks of me as her Auntie Charlotte, even though Carlo and I broke up two years ago. Even after the breakup, I continued swinging by Bella’s house in New Jersey, the one she shares with her mother, Carlo’s sister, for regular visits, thanks to my free flights perk. But with that benefit gone, I haven’t been back East to see Bella since my layoff. Come to think of it, though, even if I still had unlimited miles, I probably wouldn’t use them to visit Bella in New Jersey right now, despite my deep love for that cutie pie. Once a girl’s stolen a bag of money from a mob boss, she realizes pretty quickly she’d better not step foot in the mob boss’s stomping grounds again, any time soon.
I accept the envelope from Carlo and open it, praying there’s no coded message inside, and to my relief, the card inside is exactly what Carlo said: a colorful, bright invitation to his beloved niece’s tenth birthday party, to be held at the end of this month at the New Jersey home the birthday girl shares with her widowed mother, Angela, Carlo’s sister.
“Don’t worry about your travel expenses,” Carlo says, when I look up from the invitation. “When I told Mr. DiMarco about your layoff, he insisted on paying for your flights and hotel as one of Bella’s birthday gifts.”