Charming (9 page)

“Since you ate every bit, this is my treat. And since I see you like my taste in clothing, how’d you like to do a little shopping?”

Haley beamed at Gran. Shopping with her was better than shopping with Dad and Joce, anyway. “Sounds great. Can we buy you a new shirt while we’re at it?”

Gran frowned. “Horrible, huh? I promised one of my knitting club friends that I’d wear it.”

“It’s pretty big, and the color…?”

“I get it. I get it. Let’s go.”

The pair ventured into shop after shop, purchasing matching shirts. Gran tried to maintain her youth, buying knick-knacks for the old folks’ home. They had their nails done, ate ice cream, and didn’t stop having fun until the sun sat low in the sky, radiating pink off the white, puffy clouds set against a dim blue background.

Gran drove Haley home and helped carry all the bags, dropping everything right inside the door and looking around. “Place looks great. Still old, it’ll never be un-old, but you guys are keeping it up nicely.”

‘You guys’ equaled Haley. “Yeah. I miss the old house. Well, the house we used to live in that was newer than this.” She missed Mom and the memories of her. None of them existed inside these walls. “Sure you don’t want to visit the cemetery with me?”

Gran cupped Haley’s cheek with her cold fingers and smiled sadly. “Not tonight, darling. I need to head home before it gets so dark that I have to call a cab. Old lady eyes, remember? Besides… surprise?”

“Sure, Gran.” No surprises. Dad and Joce weren’t even here.

Gran and Haley hugged and exchanged I love yous, then Gran took off.

Haley put her things away, an uneasy feeling setting into the pit of her stomach. “Stupid burger.”

She grabbed her jean jacket and headed out the front door, for once, to go visit Mom’s grave. Upon reaching the headstone, Haley spotted a pink envelope propped against it.

Someone must be playing a prank.

Picking up the crisp paper, Haley’s heart thumped wildly. Jocelyn’s handwriting. Haley’s name. What could it be? Should she even open it? What if Jocelyn hated Haley for coming here without asking if she wanted to tag along?

Haley tore through the envelope anyway. Gran did mention a surprise. “Left a present for you on my bed. Maybe you’ll crawl out of your funk and into it. <3”

Jocelyn did something nice for… for Haley?

She ran home, tearing up the pavement in her hurry to see what Joce left. Maybe she wanted a relationship with Haley as much as Haley wanted one with Joce. Maybe hoping for things wasn’t stupid.

Haley slid down the hall, nearly bowling through Joce’s door, then righted herself and ventured into a place she rarely ever entered. Pink walls, frilly sheer-white bedspread with pastel-pink flowers and about a thousand pillows, and matching curtains and a rug. Pictures of Mom and Dad hung on almost every wall, and one of Haley and Joce at the beach when they were five and three sat on her nightstand. Haley’s heart stuttered at the sight of it all.

On the bed, a black box with a silk cream bow on it waited, patiently, eerily out of place in a room with so much pink and white.

“Wow.” Haley untied the bow, allowing it to fall to the floor, and moved the tissue paper aside. “A dress?” A gorgeous, knee-length, peach colored dress and a pair of golden ballet flats, right next to another note. Haley tore open the envelope and read it aloud, “Dance with that poor schmuck. And get him away from the party. Go have fun. He’s not as bad as you think. I’ll keep Dad busy. Don’t worry.”

Tears leaked down Haley’s face. Maybe things really were changing. Maybe. Maybe. But hope is such a dangerous emotion.

No.

For one night, Haley was sick of worrying.

Haley wouldn’t worry.

She ran to her room, changed into the dress, admiring how the peach softened her pale skin and made it glow. Haley dragged a brush through her short hair, ignoring the slight wave to it. Everything looked perfect. She looked perfect. The last time she wore a dress?

Nope. Thoughts not going back to the Father Daughter dance.

“Thanks, Joce. I owe you,” she whispered as she stuck Dad’s keys into the ignition of his hideous truck, rolling down the window so as not to choke and die on fumes. Haley turned on the radio and allowed herself to sing along with the happy words. The sun still cast its radiant beams high into the sky from its position just below the horizon, igniting the reds, yellows, browns in the trees lining both sides of the road. Smells of manure and freshly cut grass filled the truck, whisking away most of the exhaust fumes.

Haley smiled as she pulled up to the Charming’s gated driveway. So many cars, so many twinkling lights wrapped around the fence, draped along stakes that ran all the way to the house.

“Beautiful.”

She parked the truck as far from the house as possible, then mingled in with the crowd, people laughing and chatting and wearing fancy dresses and fancy suits. A huge white tent was pitched behind the house, and a DJ played some sort of classical tune. Not dance time yet.

A server walked by with a tray of champagne or wine and offered Haley a glass.

“No. Thanks.” She walked around the parquet floor pieced together under the tent, laughed at a pair of five year olds dancing slowly, their parents taking thousands of pictures from a nearby table. Everywhere Haley looked, she figured that’s where Dad and Joce would be. She was almost afraid to see them, to ruin the sudden peace being here brought. This party felt so normal. So, so normal.

Someone placed their warm hand under her elbow and gently spun her around. “You came.”

Chris Charming smiled, looking worth every penny his family owned: black suit with a gray and black hooded Henley beneath his jacket—youth and maturity colliding, his hair messy but perfect, face freshly shaved, the twinkling lights illuminating his blue eyes.

Words failed Haley. Chris was touching her, touching her and his skin hadn’t yet caught fire, and his nearness hadn’t made her—

“And you haven’t run away yet.”

Heat spread across Haley’s cheeks. “Sorry about that.”

He shook his head, an almost imperceptible movement. “And that ‘or something’ you had?”

“Taken care of.”

His eyebrow arched. “Does this mean you’re my date?”

Haley’s heart ricocheted around her chest. Would she allow herself this? For just one night? Ignore all the rumors about him? “I guess.”

Chris laughed, never looking away from her, the intensity nearly taking Haley’s breath away. “I guess? I’m not positive I want to introduce you to people as my date if it’s only an ‘I guess’.”

“Yes.” Oh my God. “Yes. This is a date.”

“Good.” Grinning, he linked his fingers with hers and dragged Haley around the edge of the dance floor, where people sat at white-clothed tables with tea lights burning in small glass jars, introducing her to so many people she already knew. People jumped up and hugged her and kissed her cheek and said things like, “Oh, Haley, it’s been ages. You’re so grown up. So beautiful. You look just like your mother.”

Things that made Haley want to cry with joy—these people still cared, or at least pretended to—things that made Chris smile radiantly all night.

“Can you believe she only works on the floor?” Chris asked Mr. Smith, an accounting supervisor from the headquarters office.

Mr. Smith shook his head. “Such a brilliant mind. Why are you wasting it working the floor? You should be learning how to operate businesses from a higher level.”

Caught off guard, Haley stumbled, “I—”

“She’s not wasting anything. You should see the way working the floor makes her smile, such a rare treasure to see.”

Haley flushed scarlet.

“Sorry about that.” Tugging her to the middle of the dance floor, away from the now questioning scrutiny of Mom’s former employees, as the music changed to something less classical but still slow, Chris said, “May I have this dance?”

Face fighting different expressions, confused about whether a smile, a laugh, a frown, or crying would be appropriate, Haley managed to stammer out, “You may.”

Chris slid one hand around Haley’s waist and the other held firmly to her hand. He pulled her close, so close the heat from his body felt as though it belonged to her, leaned his head next to her face and placed his cheek on her hair. “I didn’t think you were coming.”

“Me either.” She inhaled him, fresh, like spring rain body wash, and a spicy, rich scent from some type of cologne.

“I’m glad you did.”

Me too
. But saying those words would be too much, make him think more could happen between them that could not happen. Haley closed her eyes and rested her cheek against his chest. His heart raced, raced like he’d run five miles, afraid.

She smiled.

“Come with me?” Chris pulled his face back but kept his body perfectly aligned with hers, perfectly touching.

“Where?”

“My room.”

Haley took a step back. “Chris—”

“To talk, away from the watchful eyes of Deerfield’s best gossipers.” Chris shrugged and looked pointedly around, guiding Haley to do the same.

“Oh.”

Everyone had their eyes glued to Chris and Haley, new CEO’s son, former CEO’s daughter. Very juicy gossip.

Keeping his fingers laced with hers, he led Haley up the deck stairs and into the two-story den. Windows spanned the length of one wall, and a fire burned in the brick fireplace. A few people sat on the sofa, close and cuddling, flirting. Chris inclined his head when they said hello, then kept walking with her up the wide, wooden staircase, along the catwalk and into his room. He led Haley through the wide open and bright space—such a clean,
neat
space—and to the couch in a little nook created by slants in the roof, a half-octagonal shape.

She took a seat on one of his huge, overstuffed beanbags—not childish things, but soft leather, cool at first but instantly warming. Chris grabbed a remote, pressed the power button, then tossed the thing to his bed and took a seat next to Haley as soon as the music drifted from unseen speakers.

“How do you do it?” he asked.

“Do what?” Haley played with the hem of her dress, careful not to turn into him too much and give him the wrong idea.

Chris took her hand again and placed it on top of his, then used his index fingers to draw little circles. “Anything, everything. Your mom was CEO of Berkshires; people loved you. Your mom’s been away for two years; they still love you. You attend that school—”

Haley slipped her hand free and balled it in her lap. “People don’t love me there.”

“I doubt that very much.” Stretching out, Chris turned on his side. “How is the school?”

“Boring.” Boring and packed with bodies and not challenging enough to hold her attention. “But fine.”

“Guys?”

“Are you asking me if the school has guys, or are you asking something else?”

He scooted a little closer, his body heat reaching across the few inches between them and assaulting her with desire. “Something else.”

Haley shook her head. Down, desire. Down. “No guys.”

“Good.”

For who
?

“How are your dad and sister? I see you at work, but how are they holding up?”

Could Chris genuinely be interested in her? Could this boy who lights farmer’s pastures on fire, who street races, who hangs out with guys who drink and do drugs, could he really enjoy sitting in her presence? Did it matter?

“They’re fine.” Lie.

“Sounds like there’s more going on there than you’re willing to admit.”

Could she tell Chris? Could she unload her family’s secrets on him? Would people believe anything he said if he took it upon himself to share? Probably not with his reputation. Especially if she lied her way out of any investigation. Maybe a little. Maybe she could give away one small piece of truth to Chris Charming, to someone, anyone. “You have no idea.”

“Tell me?”

“Well”—Haley glanced at the clock. 11:59. How did that much time pass?— “Shit. I have to go. I just got over being grounded, and I’m going to be late.”

No way would Dad beat her up again. Not so soon. Not ever.

She jumped to her feet and hurried through Chris’s room, but before she could escape, he grabbed Haley’s hand and pulled her back to him so that they stood chest to chest. “Let me drive you. I’ll tell him it’s my fault.”

Shaking her head, Haley prayed he couldn’t feel her trembling. “I… thanks… but I have his truck and I have to go right now.”

The gold ballet flats Jocelyn gave Haley kept sliding from her feet as she ran down the stairs and out the front door. So she removed them, ran with them in her hands all the way to the truck. She pulled onto Amherst Street and drove as fast as the truck would allow.

Haley’s cell phone lit up and danced along the leather seat. She glanced at the screen.

Want to hang out at my place tomorrow
?

Only if Dad didn’t beat the shit out of her, ground her, or do something insane, like, kill her.

I’ll call
.