Total pages in book: 176
Estimated words: 164533 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 823(@200wpm)___ 658(@250wpm)___ 548(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 164533 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 823(@200wpm)___ 658(@250wpm)___ 548(@300wpm)
Anyway, dealing with that situation had made Shay late to meet Maggie and Jonathan for lunch. Maggie had come looking for him, and she’d mentioned how Jonathan was still in the restaurant talking with Charli. My jealousy had flared at the thought of that suave prick getting the opportunity to chat her up. I’d been unable to help myself from going straight there on the pretence of checking in with the head server, Matt. As soon as I saw her sitting at a table with Jonathan, I’d had to fight the urge to stride over there, yank her into my arms, and growl Mine like some crazed neanderthal.
Thankfully, I’d managed to get my shit in order as I’d forced myself to leave the restaurant without making a scene.
Charli stood several feet from my desk, a brown paper bag clutched in her hand, and her expression flustered. A sense of possessiveness filled me because she’d come wanting me to know she hadn’t been on a date, but at the same time, I didn’t like seeing her distressed. My body struggled against the urge to approach her, hands itching to gently smooth away the stressed indent between her eyebrows.
“I just, um, I remembered you saying I should be wary of Jonathan, and I didn’t want you thinking I disregarded your advice,” she went on, biting her lip. Fuck, she was so earnest and beautiful, and I was a piece of shit for feeling victorious that she’d come to me.
Clearing my throat and endeavouring to maintain a cool facade, I replied gently, “You’re under no obligation to take my advice. You can date Jonathan if you feel you’re ready.” The words were like swallowing broken glass, but they had to be said.
“But I trust your advice, and besides, I’m not interested in him. I just …”
She seemed conflicted, and it took all my effort not to cross the room and surround her in a protective embrace. “Charli?”
She glanced at the seat in front of my desk. “Can I sit?”
“Of course.”
Charli exhaled heavily then pulled out the chair and set her brown paper bag on the side of my desk. Her eyes darted around the room, settling on the shelf behind my desk then the container of pens near my laptop and the stack of papers I’d printed out the day before.
Basically, she looked anywhere but directly at me, which told me she was either shy or nervous. Possibly both.
“So, I had this massage last weekend at the spa in the Malahide hotel, and it was kind of a revelation,” she said at last, and I blinked. Okay. That wasn’t what I’d expected.
“Oh?”
Her eyes darted to mine and then away, hands fiddling in her lap. “I broke down a little,” she confessed quietly like she was telling me an embarrassing secret, and my chest constricted. “Ended up crying in front of the masseuse.” She waved a hand in the air. “It was a whole thing. But Kelly was so sweet and understanding. She gave me time to process my emotions before we continued with the massage. It really released a lot of tension and trauma I didn’t know I was carrying. I hadn’t realised how long it was since someone touched me with kind hands.”
Beneath the desk, my own hand clenched into a fist at what she’d said. The instinct to hunt down her ex-husband returned with a vengeance. I couldn’t speak. If I did, I’d only end up sounding angry and possibly frightening her.
“When I left, I felt lighter like a cloud that had been hovering around my soul had been lifted. I know that sounds silly, but that’s just how it felt.”
“It’s not silly,” I grunted, still struggling to contain all that I was feeling at that moment. Charli’s eyes widened slightly at my gruff tone, and I forced myself to soften my voice. “Sorry, please go on.”
She pressed her lips together, swallowing thickly before she continued, “Well, I’ve been working through a lot of stuff, and speaking with my therapist in video calls helps, but I’m starting to feel like working through the emotions the massage brought out is important for my healing process, too.” She looked at me then, and though I was happy to be the one she chose to talk things out with, I wasn’t entirely sure where the conversation was headed.
Her eyes flicked to mine again. “While I was talking to Jonathan back in the restaurant, I mentioned how I was recently divorced, and he told me about a situation he had with one of his exes a few years ago. I don’t know, something just clicked for me.”
She paused, seeming shy as she smoothed her hands over her lap.
“What clicked for you?” I asked softly.
She shifted in her seat. “Well, he said that when his engagement to the woman he’d been with for five years ended, and he wasn’t in a good place to start anything new, he entered an arrangement with another ex of his who he was on good terms with. A, uh, friends with benefits sort of thing.”