Hate Notes

I was always good at keeping secrets.

Yet for some reason, I could barely look at Charlotte over the last week since Josh had called with information on her birth mother. Of course, I knew withholding was the right thing to do until Josh could verify everything he’d dug up. Especially since a lot of it was word of mouth. There was no way in the world I was delivering that kind of unverified intel to Charlotte.

Then there was also the fact that I had no idea how Charlotte was going to react to what I’d done. The two of us weren’t strangers to invading each other’s privacy. Oddly, it seemed to be our thing. I’d stalk her social media and open her Fuck-It List. And in turn she’d buy me a Christmas mug featuring my most personal childhood dream that I’d never shared with her. But digging up her mother, finding out her true identity and history, that took things to a whole new level of “fucked up.” It didn’t help that what I’d turned up wasn’t good.

Earlier this afternoon, I’d messaged Charlotte to find out what time she planned to leave the office tonight. She’d responded with six, so I waited until six thirty to drop off the files at her office that I needed her to work on tomorrow. I used my master key to unlock her door, expecting no one to be inside.

Only, Charlotte was definitely still there.

“Shit. Don’t you knock?” She yanked the dress that was at her waist up, covering her bra.

I stood frozen and staring, rather than doing the polite thing and turning away. “Sorry. You said you were leaving at six, and your door was locked.”

“I locked it so I could change.”

I blinked a few times, finally managing to snap myself out of it. “Sorry.” I backed out and began to pull the door shut, but Charlotte called after me.

“Wait!”

I kept the door partially closed so I couldn’t see her. “What’s up?”

“Can you . . . help me with this zipper? It always sticks.”

I looked up at the sky and counted to ten in my head. “Are you covered now?”

“Yes.”

I opened the door and got a look at what Charlotte was wearing for the first time. I’d been so distracted by the contrast of her lacy black bra against her creamy skin that she could’ve been pulling on a clown suit and I wouldn’t have noticed.

I tried to keep my eyes on her face but failed. The little black dress she wore—one with a low neckline that showed off a good amount of cleavage—was just too irresistible to pass up. It cut a few inches above her knees, which made her toned legs look endless as they slipped into a pair of spiky, high-heeled shoes. I’d have given my right arm to feel them digging into my back.

I swallowed. “Going somewhere?”

She turned, giving me her back, and pulled her hair to the side. Charlotte’s dress was half-zipped, stopping at the black lace of her bra. “Can you zip me? I’m already running late.”

I walked over and stood behind her, taking in a big, deep breath of her scent. “You look beautiful. But where are you going?”

“I’m meeting a friend for drinks.”

My hand at her zipper froze. She was wearing a little black dress and smelled fucking amazing, and yet somehow I was shocked at her response. “A friend?” It felt like a Mack truck had just hit me.

“Yes. And I’m late. So if you wouldn’t mind . . .”

Miraculously, I managed to pull up her zipper even though all I wanted to do was rip the fucking dress off and tell her she wasn’t going out with a friend.

She turned around and smoothed out her dress. “How do I look?”

How do you look? You look like you’re mine.

I made a conscious effort to un-ball my fists. “I told you. You look beautiful.”

I felt her staring at me but couldn’t meet her eyes. After a minute, I turned to walk away. “Have a good night, Charlotte.”

I should’ve gone home. But I didn’t. Like an idiot, I went to the bar that my buddies and I used to go to before I met Allison. I have no idea what I was thinking, but whatever it was, it was a stupid fucking thought.

I guzzled the third drink; it was watered down enough to taste like shit but still did the trick. Digging in my pocket, I tossed a hundred-dollar bill on the bar and spoke to the bartender. “I’ll take another.”

“You sure? You’re downing ’em pretty fast there, buddy.”

“The woman I’m fucking crazy about asked me to help her zip up the sexy little dress she wore on her date tonight.”

The bartender nodded. “I’ll keep ’em coming.”

While I was drowning my sorrows, a woman slipped onto the stool next to me. “Reed? I thought that was you.”

I squinted, trying to figure out where I knew her from. Her face was familiar, but I couldn’t place it.

“You don’t remember me?” She pouted. “Maya—Allison’s friend. Well . . . ex-friend, I guess it would be, technically.”

My eyes dropped to her rack. I should’ve started there. She was pretty enough, but it was her massive tits that no one could forget. I remembered Allison used to talk shit about her all the time—how they had to be fake, how she should be a stripper—yet she was always nice to her face. That should’ve been my first sign that the woman I was dating lacked integrity. I’d been so fucking blind.

I was halfway to drunk and all the way to a depressing emotional wreck, so I couldn’t even properly cover up what had caught my attention. Maya didn’t seem to mind. She thrust her breasts forward proudly and flirted. “I see you remember me now?”

I ignored her comment and gulped back the contents of my glass. “Ex-friend?”

“Yep. We had a fight a few months back. Haven’t spoken since.”

I nodded. The last thing I wanted to do was talk about Allison.

The bartender came back over and spoke to Maya. “What can I get you?”

“I’ll have a Long Island iced tea. And whatever he’s having.” She pointed to my glass. “His next one is on me.”

“That’s not necessary.”

“Maybe not. But we’re celebrating.”

I looked over at her. “What are we celebrating?”

“Both of us being rid of that bitch Allison.”

Maya stumbled getting off the stool. We’d definitely had too much to drink. “I have to go to the little girl’s room.” She giggled. “Save my seat.”

“Sure thing.” Last call had been almost a half hour ago. The bar was nearly empty. It wouldn’t take much effort to reserve her stool.

I finished off my drink. We’d been sitting in these same spots for a long time. Maya had actually turned out to be pretty nice. While I had no desire to discuss Allison, she’d filled me in on their fight. Apparently my ex went out with a guy Maya had dated a few times, even though she knew they were seeing each other.

Alcohol usually made thoughts fuzzy. But for some reason, it made mine clearer tonight. The more I reflected on the woman I’d asked to marry me, the more I realized she’d actually done me a favor by dumping my ass. The woman I thought I’d known was loyal and sweet. They say love is blind, but apparently in my case, it was deaf, dumb, and blind.

I waved at the bartender to get his attention. Screw last call. I needed another drink.

Everyone was fucking dating—Maya, my ex-fiancée, Charlotte . . . I was the only celibate asshole these days. Maybe that’s what I needed—to get laid. Make me forget all about the blue-eyed optimist wearing a sexy little black dress while she’s out with some asshole tonight.

Maya returned from the bathroom. She really was pretty, even without looking south of her face. She smiled from under her thick lashes—big brown eyes batted what was unsaid. Instead of planting herself back on the stool, she sidled up to me, pushing those massive tits up against my arm.

“I always thought you were too good for Allison.”

I looked at her lips. “Oh yeah?”

“You know what else I think?”

“What’s that?”

Her hand went to my thigh. “That there’s no better revenge than your coming home with me.”

She was absolutely right. Allison would flip out if she found out I’d slept with Maya. The problem was—I didn’t give a fuck about Allison or getting revenge. And while my dick really wanted to go home with her anyway, I just didn’t have it in me.

I covered her hand with mine. “You’re beautiful, and you have no idea how tempting that offer is. But there’s someone else.”

“You’re seeing someone?”

I shook my head. “No. But I’d still feel like I was cheating.”

Maya stared at me for a moment, then pushed up on her toes and kissed my cheek. “I hope she knows what a lucky bitch she is. Because Allison sure didn’t.”

I felt like absolute shit the next morning. After cancelling my eight o’clock meeting at the last minute and going back to sleep for an hour, I dragged my sorry ass to the office.

A delivery guy was at the front desk just as I walked in. The acid in my sour stomach burned my throat as he spoke. “Delivery for Miss Charlotte Darling.”

The receptionist signed for it and took a tip from the petty cash box as I stared at a dozen yellow roses.

I’m such a fucking idiot.

Such an idiot.

A celibate fucking idiot.

I’d turned down a night of revenge sex when Charlotte was out doing something to earn a few hundred bucks in roses. My ass, she went out with a friend. I’d known she had been lying. Steam should’ve been coming out my nose and ears for how hot I suddenly felt.

The receptionist picked up the phone. I assumed it was to call Charlotte. “Don’t call. I’ll deliver them to Ms. Darling’s office for her.”

I thought about shoving the vase in the garbage and passing right by but couldn’t resist seeing Charlotte’s face when I delivered them. She was on the phone when I barged in. “Delivery for you.” I plucked the card that was stapled to the cellophane wrapping. Sarcasm dripped from my tone. “Here, let me read you the card since you’re so hard at work.” I ripped the tiny envelope open as she tried to rush the person off the phone. Clearing my throat, I read, “‘Great catching up. Hope to see you again soon. Blake.’”

Blake? Sounds like a total douchebag.

Charlotte hung up the phone and leaned over her desk to swat at the card in my hand. “Give me that.”

I pulled it out of reach and held it up over my head. “I didn’t take you for an easy lay, Charlotte. Guess I was wrong.”

Her face turned crimson. “What I do during my personal time is none of your business.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. If your personal life interferes with your work, it’s most certainly my business.”

Her hands shot to her hips. “My personal life has not interfered with my work.”

“Getting these flowers delivered today is an interference. You’re distracted and that affects your work.”

“I think you’re the one who’s distracted.”

Charlotte marched from behind her desk and climbed up on the guest chair next to where I stood. She ripped the card from my hand and leaned her face down to mine. Our noses were almost touching. “Jealousy isn’t flattering on you, Eastwood.”

“I’m not jealous,” I gritted through my teeth.

A slow, evil smile spread across her face. “Really? So you wouldn’t mind if I told you how handsome Blake is?”

I wanted to wipe that smirk right off her face—by jamming my tongue into her mouth. “Charlotte, don’t screw with me . . .”

“Screw?” She leaned in closer, our noses actually touching now. “So you do want to talk about Blake?”

“For heaven’s sake!” Grandmother’s voice interrupted our screaming match. She slammed the door behind her so the three of us were shut inside Charlotte’s office. “What is wrong with the two of you? The entire office can hear you yelling at each other.”

Fuck. I raked my hands through my hair. This woman made me crazy. I’m the guy telling people to pipe down when they start getting too loud in the office—not the guy who has to be told to shut up. By my grandmother, no less. The last time she’d had to reprimand me was probably when Max and I fought over a toy as kids.

Charlotte spoke first. “Iris. I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize we were so loud.”

“Get down off that chair,” Grandmother snapped. She was pissed.

Charlotte climbed down and stood beside me. We both waited with bowed heads for the wrath we knew was coming.

“The two of you need to grow up.” She turned her attention to me first. “Reed, you’re my grandson, and I love you very much. Although you’re a horse’s ass sometimes. Life dealt you a shitty hand, yes. But that doesn’t mean you fold. That means you take a deep breath and pull all the crappy cards you’re holding, toss them in the center of the pile, and grab four new ones. Have some balls, son. Don’t fold like a wimp.” She turned her attention to Charlotte and her voice softened. “And, sweetheart, we live in New York City. There are two things we don’t have to chase after: trains and men. Because there’ll always be another one ready to pick us up right behind the first.”

Grandmother turned on her heel and reached for the doorknob. Glancing back over her shoulder, she continued. “I’m going to leave now, and I’m going to shut the door behind me and give you two a minute. Then I expect you both to be back at work as usual.”

After Iris left, we looked at each other. I took a deep breath. “I’m sorry for the way I acted.”

“Apology accepted. And I’m sorry for calling you a narcissistic bastard.”

My brows drew down. “You didn’t.”

She smiled. “Oh. Well, I thought it, then.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle. “You’re nuts, Darling.” I extended my hand. “Friends?”

She put her little one in mine. “Friends.”

I walked to the door and opened it, but Charlotte stopped me. “Reed?”

I turned back.

“I’m not easy. Nothing happened between me and Blake.”

She was trying to make me feel better, but it only made me feel worse. Because I heard the unspoken word missing from her sentence.

“Nothing happened between me and Blake—yet.”