Second Hearts (The Wishes Series) (46 page)

I was wrong. She turned up at our door so early that Adam hadn’t even left yet. The reason for the early visit was purely strategic: she was armed with a cache of summer dresses for me to try on.

“Isn’t this a little much?” I asked, not even trying to disguise my annoyance. “I’m perfectly capable of dressing myself.”

“I know you are, darling,” she soothed, thrusting a blue floral number at me. “But today is important. A lot of important people will be there and I want to show you off.”

Sometimes I longed for the days when the woman detested the air I breathed. But then she’d do something ridiculous that would turn into something endearing, like trying to dress me but remembering that I liked vintage dresses.

“I thought you said it was just lunch in the park,” I complained, taking the hanger from her.

“It is, darling. Just you, me and a few hundred other ladies supporting the Sunkiss Foundation’s annual luncheon.”

“You should go, Charli,” cajoled Adam from the kitchen. “It’s for charity.”

“Of course she’s going,” said Fiona. “All she has to do is pick a dress.”

Adam walked over. “I like the red one,” he whispered in my ear. “I’ll show you how much when I get home tonight.”

I went with the red dress, teamed it with a cute pair of Ferragamo sandals that I felt guilty for owning, and let the queen twist my hair into an unoriginal but impeccably neat bun.

Looking pretty didn’t guarantee a pretty afternoon. I knew as soon as we arrived that there was the potential for a great deal of ugliness. Fiona might have finally accepted me into the fold, but to the rest of her social set I was still a novelty. There was no escaping the fact that one of the most eligible bachelors in the history of trust fund scions had chosen to do the unthinkable. And I was the unthinkable.

“Stop fidgeting,” whispered Fiona. “You look beautiful.”

Why did no one ever tell me I looked confident, intelligent or poised?

I stood on the terrace of the restaurant, looking down at the tables set up on the lawn, wondering how the day was going to play out. The purple circle girls were there in all their fashionista glory. Sera spotted me and gave a friendly wave. Kinsey saw me too – and turned her back. Nothing about the gesture surprised me. At least it was honest. She tolerated me because she had no choice.

What was shocking was Whitney’s reaction. Not only did she wave but she grabbed the elbow of the woman she was with and started climbing the steps toward us.

“Who is Whitney with?” I hissed at Fiona, needing an answer before they reached us.

She handed me a champagne flute. “Celia, her mother,” she said, smiling artificially in Celia’s direction before leaning in to whisper to me. “And that, darling, is a prime example of why you should never wear leopard print.”

I let out a long and unsteady breath, by which time Whitney and her leopard-clad mother were in front of us.

“Charli,” purred Whitney. “I’d like you to meet my mother. Mother, this is Charli, Adam’s wife.”

I shook her hand but had lost the ability to speak.

“Charmed, I’m sure,” crooned Celia. I doubted she was charmed by me. I also doubted that anyone had used that greeting since the mid fifties.

Fiona stepped in, leaning forward to kiss leopard-woman’s cheeks. “Bygones, Celia. My son is extraordinarily happy.”

“And why wouldn’t he be?” asked Whitney. “Charli’s lovely.”

Whitney had never paid me a compliment before. Whitney had never been even remotely pleasant to me before. The reason for it left me feeling a little queasy. I had serious dirt on Whitney Vaughn, and every single interaction from here on was going to be an exercise in fakery.

Even Fiona saw through it. The second they were out of earshot, she whispered, “What do you have on Whitney?” and handed me a second glass of champagne.

“What makes you think I have something on her?”

She linked her arm through mine and we walked down the steps. “She loathes you, Charli.”

“Well, thank you, little Miss Sunshine.”

She stopped walking, forcing me to a halt. “Oh, you poor mite,” she cooed, tucking a wisp of hair behind my ear. “All you want to do is to fit in.”

The queen and I had spent a lot of time together over the past few months. How could she have me pegged so wrong? How did she not know that fitting in with her lunatics was the furthest thing from my mind?

“All I want is Adam,” I replied sternly. “All I’ve ever wanted is Adam. And as soon as he’s done with school, we’re out of here.” Her bewildered expression led me to believe it was the first she’d heard of it. I would have elaborated, but a woman wearing a giant floppy straw hat appeared out of nowhere and muscled in between us.

“Fifi,” she crooned, nearly knocking Fiona’s glass out of her hand with her hat. I hadn’t heard anyone refer to her as Fifi before. It sounded ridiculous, but everything about the pushy woman was a little silly. Her flowy silk handkerchief dress was the exact same shade of red as her fingernails, lips and shoes.

“How are you, Joy?” asked Fiona.

“I’m fabulous, sweetie.” She quickly turned to me and I ducked to avoid her hat. “You must be Charli. Adam has told me so much about you.”

I couldn’t imagine Adam willingly telling this woman anything. I had to know the connection. “How do you know my husband?” I never,
ever
referred to Adam as my husband. The word was trite and inadequate. Using it was a weird territorial display that made me feel like a total sellout.

“Joy is a realtor, Charli,” interjected Fiona. “We do a lot of business together.”

“The best in town,” crowed Joy, unabashedly singing her own praises. “And I’m working hard for you.” I stepped back as she pointed at me, fighting the urge to douse her in champagne.

“Adam mentioned that you’ll be looking for a new home soon. I have a few gorgeous listings in the village at the moment.” she said in a condescending childlike voice. “We’ll find you the perfect little nest.”

What the hell was she talking about? I didn’t want a nest in Greenwich Village. I wanted to fly the nest as soon as humanly possible. Something about my expression alarmed Fiona. She took my glass and set it on the table behind us, hooked her arm through mine and excused us both from the conversation. Joy let us go only after thrusting her business card at me.

We walked a long way, well past the tables and out on to the open lawn area.

“What was that all about?” I asked.

“Charli, it makes perfect sense for you both to find a home of your own.”

“We don’t want a home.”

“It’s not practical to live at Gabrielle’s forever.”

“No, it’s not. But it’s temporary. After he sits the bar exam, we’re out of here. That’s always been the plan.”

“I don’t understand, Charli.” That made two of us. We seemed to be having two different conversations. “Adam has accepted a judicial clerkship. He’s not going anywhere.”

“No.” I practically whimpered the word. “We’re leaving New York.”

She put both hands on my shoulders, shaking me as she spoke. “He’s worked incredibly hard for this. What would be the point in getting his degree if he didn’t put it to use?”

“Ryan did.”

Her hands slipped back to her sides. “Ryan never wanted to study law. He’d be the first to tell you that he did it only to please his father. But Adam is different, Charli. It’s all he’s ever wanted.”

I shook my head, trying to clear my brain. “We’re not supposed to be here.”

“Stop this, Charli.” There was desperation in her tone and she resorted to shaking me again. “Pull yourself together. Your life is here. End of story.”

I had a million questions, none of which she could answer. I wanted to know if his plans had changed or if staying in New York had been his intention all along. Neither scenario was pretty, but there was only one I could live with.

Devastation, hot sun and champagne were a deadly mix. I didn’t recognise the point where I consumed one glass too many; all I knew was that somewhere between the main course and dessert, I developed a bad headache and an overwhelming urge to go to sleep. I managed to escape by telling Fiona I was in danger of becoming drunk and belligerent.

“What does that entail?” she asked, humouring me.

“Dancing naked on tables, usually,” I replied, checking the sturdiness of the nearest table by rocking it.

She called her driver and demanded he pick me up straight away.

***

For once, arriving home to an empty house didn’t bother me. After painstakingly pulling two dozen bobby pins out of my hair, I tumbled into bed to sleep off the headache.

I didn’t hear Adam come in. The first I knew he was home was when he laid down beside me. “Hey,” he greeted me softly, wrapping his arms around me.

I blinked spastically, trying to focus on his face. “What time is it?”

“A little after seven.”

I tried to sit up but felt a little woozy. “Whoa,” I muttered, lying back down.

“Are you sick?” he asked, moving his hand to my forehead.

“Not really,” I croaked, closing my eyes. “Don’t feel sorry for me. It’s self inflicted.”

He laughed softly. “Well, I’m glad you had a good time.”

“It wasn’t a good time, Adam. I was drowning my sorrows.” I opened my eyes just in time to see his expression turn serious. “I met your realtor, Joy. You’ll be happy to know she’s working hard for us. I guess I’m going to need a bigger house to rattle around in by myself while you’re out being a law clerk extraordinaire.”

His body tensed. “I was going to tell you.”

“So our entire plan is busted?” I asked, giving no hint of the devastation I was feeling.

“I just need to be here a while longer, Charlotte. It’s an opportunity I can’t pass up,” he said, giving me a chaste kiss as if that fixed everything.

“How long have you known?”

Everything
hinged on his answer. He was either good, studious Adam who’d received the offer out of the blue or manipulative, purple circle Adam who’d planned it all along.

“Not long.” I studied his blue eyes closely, detecting no hint of dishonesty. “Do you want to know the best part?”

I was still looking for the mildly okay part. “Sure.”

“It was absolutely nothing to do with my father. It was based purely on my own merits,” he said proudly.

I trailed my fingertips down his face, settling on the deep dimple in his right cheek.

“When were you going to tell me?”

The hollow in his cheek disappeared as his smile faded. “Just as soon as I could figure out how.”

The problem I faced was twofold. Firstly, I really didn’t want to stay in New York a day longer than necessary. Secondly, I didn’t want to live anywhere without him. I sighed, resigned to the fact that I had no choice but to accept that our travel plans had been put back a while.

“It’ll be okay,” I replied optimistically. “A few more months here won’t make any difference.”

He turned his head, looking at me strangely. I got the impression he was on the very edge of telling me something dreadful.

“Do you know how much I love you?” It wasn’t such a strange question considering his next sentence. “It’s going to be a little longer than a few months.”

“How much longer?” He didn’t answer, which was a very bad sign. Ignoring the wooziness, I sat upright, preparing to escape the room. It was a reaction he was all too familiar with. He swooped his arm around my waist, drawing me back to him.

“Just hear me out,” he whispered in my ear from behind. “Please.”

I didn’t say a single word as he told me the ins and outs of the position he’d been offered. By the time he got to the part about it chewing up at least another year of our lives after law school, there was no point speaking at all. Something deep inside me snapped and gave way. Our travel plans weren’t delayed. They were dead. I felt my whole body relax against his as I surrendered.

“It’s everything I’ve worked toward.”

I was outwardly silent. Inside I was screaming at him. I twisted in his arms, wanting to see his face. His dark blue eyes bored into mine, silently willing me to tell him that everything was fine. I nodded, giving him the false impression that all was golden.

“I’ll give you whatever you need, Charli,” he promised. I couldn’t think of a single thing he could offer that would make me feel any less ripped off.

Nothing came out when I first tried to speak. I cleared my throat and tried again. “All I’ve ever wanted is you. You should know that by now.”

He leaned forward and kissed me. “I’m right here.” And he’d made it painfully apparent that he wasn’t going anywhere any time soon. “Please tell me you’re okay with this.”

A normal girl would have asked for time to consider her options. But I wasn’t a normal girl. I was the girl who loved him to the point of desperation. I
needed
him, which was the very affliction my father had warned me against.

I studied his worried expression closely. “I have to be okay with it.”

“I need you,” he whispered.