The Redemption (Charlotte Bloom Book 2) (3 page)

Life has been miserable here since my return. I’ve skirted over it in previous emails as an act of self-preservation but in reality, I think of Alec every day, every minute, and every second. I hate myself for what I did, and how I just… left. I abandoned the very best thing that had ever happened to me. I’m still dealing with the aftermath. Usually, this means ordering takeout every night, ignoring my friends, and watching a lot of bad TV.

I’m sad. I don’t know what to do. I just know that I can’t show up now, after having been gone for so long. I was given a second chance at love. It was a helluva second chance. I won’t be getting a third chance. Life doesn’t work like that. I need to move on with my life now. I’ve done enough moping around. Of course I’ll always love Alec, but it’s not like I can go back now with my tail between my legs. It’s best if we both move on. It was a fleeting romance. Nothing more. It can never be anything more than that.

Anyways, I’m sorry. I love you—all of you. I want you to know that you are welcome in L.A. any time. Please keep me updated on everything. You are one of my nearest and dearest friends, and I hope you know that that will never change. Please give my love to everyone, especially Alec.

Xox,

Charlotte

I sent it immediately. I didn’t want to overthink it, and what I said
had to be said.
It felt good to be honest for once. I felt instantly relieved. I needed what I had written to sink in. I needed to move on.

I hadn’t been totally honest with everyone since my return. I didn’t even know if they knew Alec had been trying to contact me. It didn’t matter at this point. I knew I was right in sending the email. I had to move on. I couldn’t keep living my life like this. I wasn’t taking care of myself. I needed to figure everything out on my own.

***

The next day, Amara took me shopping for a dress for my date with Charlie.

“You should try this one,” Amara suggested, shoving a short, revealing black dress at me. “I bet you could fit into a size 2 now anyways. You’ve turned into a tiny bag of bones,” she joked. “We need to fatten you up. But… after you wear this dress.”

I looked it over. It was totally not my style. I was more of a classic clothing type of person. I liked cardigans, jeans, t-shirts… I’d never even worn a strapless dress. On top of that, it had the shortest hemline I’d ever seen on a dress meant for an adult woman.

“I don’t know, Mar. It seems kind of slutty.”

“And?”

“I’m not slutty. I couldn’t be slutty if I tried.”

“I beg to differ.”

“I agreed to go on this date with Charlie mostly as a favor to you. I’d rather not come across as slutty.”

“Suit yourself. I’m going to try it on, even though I doubt it’ll fit me.”

It was true. Amara was tall and Portuguese, and she had an envious, curvalicious body.

I browsed more of the dress selections. I was looking for something a little less revealing—something simple. I went to the sale rack. As I slid the hangers from one side to the other, I came upon a red dress with maroon velvet paisley all over it. My heart stopped. I owned this dress. I’d worn it in Wales. It was the dress I had been wearing when Alec and I had revealed our feelings for each other, the night everything had changed.

I kept going, pushing the red dress out of view. I had to move on. After a long and tiring search, I gave in to the short, tight black dress. Amara would not stop hounding me about it, so I had to concede. I would definitely need Spanx for this dress. Amara had described Charlie as a “good guy with an edge”. I had no idea how to dress for a guy like that, but I decided I would top the look off with a leather jacket. That way, the top portion wouldn’t be too revealing. I kept pushing the same thought out of my head:
with Alec, I never had to think about what I was going to wear.

Or what I wouldn’t wear.

As I looked up, Alec took his shirt off. Holy mother of god. I tried to avert my eyes. The smell of the room, and Alec standing there shirtless was almost too much to take. I almost swooned. Like, literally, swooned and fainted. I clutched the door frame as he turned around and walked into his closet. His back was broad and tanned, and it was very muscular. I imagined working with the horses every day was very active. He turned back around with a new white shirt, and I looked down. I didn’t want him to catch me looking.

“You have a nice room,” I said quietly. My voice came out mouse-like and meek.

“It does the trick.”

I dared to look up again, and my heart stopped as I realized he was staring at me, looking at me from head to toe. I guess he hadn’t gotten a good look before in the dark kitchen or hallway. He kept eye contact while he buttoned his shirt up, which was some sort of cruel, sick joke in my eyes. It should be the other way around—he should be unbuttoning it. I looked down. I had to. This was driving me crazy. So what, he had a nice body. I could admire that as a friend. It was like the times I went to the beach with Amara and admired her perfect, tanned, svelte Portuguese body. Except that I didn’t want to jump on Amara and have sex with her on this bed, in this room.

***

I spent the majority of my afternoon primping myself for Charlie. On the one hand, I was still totally and completely hung up on Alec, and I couldn’t deny feeling that way. On the other hand, I was ready to move on with my life. Yes, it was sad that we never really had a chance. Yes, I still thought about him every second of every day. Yes, he was probably the love of my life. But I couldn’t continue living this sad, dull existence. Alec wasn’t going to move to L.A., and I had no plans to move to Wales. As much as I loved him, it wouldn’t work. It
couldn’t
work.

I straightened my hair, leaving it long and sleek against the tight black dress, under which I’d thrown on a pair of Spanx. I topped the look off with sheer black tights and black pumps. I kept my makeup simple, only adding a hint of a smoky eye, peach blush, and some nude lipgloss. I had no intention of sleeping with Charlie. I hadn’t even tidied my apartment, thinking it would serve as a good, natural deterrent. I wasn’t worried about it. I wasn’t that kind of girl, but… if everything Amara had said was true, it might be hard to fight him off. He seemed like a really nice guy. I liked nice guys.

“You know… I’m beginning to think that I don’t like you,” I said boldly.

He stood, and I followed suit. He was so much taller than me. I was leaning against the railing of the porch. He put one hand on the railing, blocking me in, pinning me against the hard wood. I liked it, but he couldn’t know that. I stood up straight to prove that his gesture wasn't bothering me. He couldn't intimidate me.

“Well, I’m beginning to think that I don’t like you either,” he said. He was smiling now.

“What’s your problem?” I crossed my arms in front of me.

He backed away, looking smug and frisky. His dark eyes bore into mine, and I felt my heart hammering in my chest. I wiped my sweaty hands on my pants. Why was I sweating? And why did Alec make me feel… like this?

“I think you know.”

“Spell it out for me,” I said, playing along. Two could play this game.

“Why are you staying, anyways?” He swayed a little bit, falling into me slightly. “What does this place have to offer you? I guess I just don’t trust you.”

“You don’t know anything about me,” I hissed. He was just trying to get a rise out of me. He was pushing my buttons.

“Thank God for that,” he whispered, coming in so close I thought he might kiss me. His eyes were annoyed and unsmiling, but his ragged breathing suggested otherwise.

I grabbed my clutch, straightened my dress and jacket, and ran my fingers through my hair. Just then, I heard a knock at my door. I glanced behind me and quickly threw some pillows on to the couch in case he saw into my apartment. I slowly walked to the door to open it.

I threw open the door and Charlie stood there, tall and, frankly, extremely good-looking. My heart sank a little bit because, as I looked him over for a second, I realized Amara was right. He was just my type. He had light brown hair and piercing, blue eyes. His face was extremely chiseled, and I could see the bulge of biceps through his tight, black turtleneck sweater. He wore distressed designer jeans, and brown dress boots. He was carrying a bouquet of roses.

“Charlotte? I’m Charlie,” he reached out and shook my hand lightly. He had soft, warm hands.

“Hi, nice to meet you,” I said, swinging my hair from one side to the other casually. “Thank you for the flowers,” I added, gesturing to the red roses. I hated red roses, but I couldn’t fault him for that. He didn’t know. “Let me just stick them in some water really quick,” I continued, walking back into my apartment.

I quickly grabbed a vase, filled it with water, and set the flowers in it. I’d deal with the rest later. Charlie was still standing in the doorway when I returned. I instantly regretted not tidying up. I could see his eyes sweep across the entire apartment; it wasn’t very big, and it was all one room, except for the kitchen and bathroom. I’d left a pile of clothes at the foot of my bed, and there were a couple of old food bowls on the coffee table. My bed was unmade. I silently vowed to tidy up before the next date—if there was a next date.

“Sorry about the mess,” I apologized, before closing the door behind me.

“Please. You should see my place,” he said casually, grinning from ear to ear. My heart melted a tiny bit as he smiled, and he placed a hand on my lower back as we climbed down the stairs of my apartment building. I tried not to fall on my face.

“So, you’re an actor,” I stated, rather than asking.

“Yep. And you’re working for Sam, right?”

“Temporarily. I'm in PR, but it has been a bit of a struggle finding a good PR job that doesn’t feel like you’re selling your soul to the devil, you know?”

“I get it. I just did a McDonald’s commercial with cartoon dancing chickens.”

I stifled a laugh as we walked over to his small sports car.

“I do hope to be able to see that commercial one day,” I said playfully.

“Never.” He smiled ruefully and patted my thigh as we drove away.

“So… we’re both in the divorce club, eh?” I didn’t know how to bring it up without asking outright.

“Looks like it. Who would’ve thought?”

“Not me. But it’s for the better. No hard feelings.”

“Same. She just wasn’t the one.”

“Yeah.”

The one. It was such a weird concept to me, and yet it made perfect sense. For so many years, I thought Harry was the one. I’d invested myself in a future with Harry, and it had all gone to shit so quickly. For a second, I had thought Alec might’ve been the one, but how could he have been? How could it possibly have worked out? If Alec and I were meant to be together, he would be here, with me, or I would be there, with him; neither of which were going to happen any time soon.

Charlie and I sat in silence for a while as he got onto the freeway and drove towards downtown. He was taking me to Bottega Louie, one of my favorite restaurants in Los Angeles. Their macarons were to die for, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t go just for the dessert. He pushed a button and all of a sudden, Bing Crosby Christmas came on. I loved this album. I sat there silently swaying as Charlie looked over at me.

“Amara said you were pretty, but—excuse my language—damn. You’re smoking hot.”

I blushed and smiled back.

“You’re not so bad yourself.”

“That dress…” he sucked in some air quickly, and moved his eyes back to the road.

“Thanks. It’s not too slutty, is it?” I was asking more as a friend. I wasn’t trying to be cute. But he wasn’t going the friend route.

“I like slutty.”

I stayed silent. Things had been going so well. I liked him. But then he had to go and say that. Also, it made me uncomfortable that he was scanning my body up and down as he drove. Get ahold of yourself, Charlie. Ugh.

“So… how do you know Amara?” I had to change the subject somehow. His eyes were still wandering. I crossed my arms tightly against my body.

“She didn’t tell you?”

“No,” I lied. I knew they had met on set.

“We met on set.”

“Oh.”

This date was turning into a disaster.

Another couple of minutes passed silently before Charlie got off the freeway, exiting a little too fast for comfort. I gripped the seat as he turned sharply towards a parking structure across the street from the restaurant.

“Sorry. I like to go fast… in all aspects of my life,” he grinned devilishly.

Did Amara know what a tool Charlie was? She’d described him as nice. He was really nice… for the first ten minutes. Perhaps he was nervous. That would be an acceptable explanation. I just smiled and looked ahead, not making eye contact with Charlie, even though I could feel his eyes all over me. He parked quickly and I waited for a second to see if he would open my door. He didn’t.