Chapter Thirty-One

Pastry box in hand, I step onto the floor of my office and look around the empty space, my hope falling flat when I don’t see Charlee.

“Fuck,” I mutter to myself, wanting to drop-kick the pastry box into one of the windows. She’s not back yet? I thought maybe she would take a week and then come back, but now I’m worried she’s never going to come back to work . . . or to me.

Deflated, I head to my office and open the door only to find Charlee setting a tray of food on my desk. I stutter step to a stop, shocked to see her, elated to be in the same room.

“Charlee,” I say on a short breath. “You’re here.”

She clasps her hands together and nods. “Yes, I thought it would be best to come back to work. I’m sure my laundry list of things to do is astronomical.”

We’ve fallen quite behind, but there’s no way in hell I’d give her work to do right now.

“Not too bad,” I say, swallowing hard and taking a step forward. I hold the pastry box out and say, “I, uh, got some of the cheese ones you like.”

She smiles softly and rounds my desk. She’s wearing black trousers and a tight purple blouse that looks amazing on her. She’s beautifully stoic, and it kills me that she’s not wearing all the same color, or that she’s not bouncing off the wall, chattering my ear off, or that she’s not asking me a million questions about my morning routine.

Instead, she takes the box from me and starts to walk toward the door. “Thank you. I’ll grab myself one. Would you like me to put one on a plate for you?”

“Sure,” I say quietly, and she disappears.

Fuck, this almost seems worse.

At least last Monday she was mad, she was ready to lay into me and teach me about how to be a good person, but now it feels like the life has been sucked from her and she’s going through the motions rather than letting herself be real.

I take a seat at my desk and look at the little tray with a smoothie and some fruit on it. I don’t know what I was expecting when I walked into the office today, but a lackluster Charlee was not on the list.

She walks back in and I can’t help the way I lust after her, how I desperately want to take her hand in mine and bring her around to sit on my lap, where I can revel in her sweet scent and run my mouth over her silky, soft skin.

She sets a plate down on my desk and then takes a seat across from me with her own plate. Taking a bite, she chews for a few seconds and kindly says, “Thanks for the Danish.”

Christ.

This isn’t just awkward, this is depressing. It’s as if she’s deciding to ignore anything that’s ever happened between us. And how do I even broach the topic of hey, you’re being weird without being insulting?

You don’t.

“I figured we could have a little chat if that’s okay.”

“Yeah, sure,” I say, leaving my food to rest on my desk. I’m not hungry in the slightest.

“I think we need to set some ground rules for working together, you know, so there aren’t any misunderstandings.”

I nod, even though I want to drive my fist through the wall. The last thing I want to be doing right now is setting ground rules. What I want to be doing is apologizing and making everything right between us, not set up rules that can keep her farther away from me.

“Should I grab a notebook and we can write them down together?”

I shake my head and say, “How about you work on them and then we talk them over tomorrow?”

That will give me some time to ignore this idiotic idea and come up with a plan. A plan that I’m going to have to make happen very quickly.

“Oh, sure. Are you busy?”

“Very,” I say, wanting to usher her out of the room so I can start thinking of a way to end this misery.

Coming in today, I had the idea that I would talk to her, apologize, and by noon we’d be back at my place, making up, but that idea was immediately squashed the moment I saw how apathetic and quiet Charlee was.

It’s as if someone literally took all her energy for themselves and left her with barely anything left. I did that to her. Fucking hell.

“Okay, well, should we go over what I need to do?”

Shit, I didn’t put together a list either, because once again, my goal coming into the office wasn’t to work; it was to get my girl back.

I rub my jaw. “Why don’t you get started on emails and then I’ll, uh, make a list for you?”

Make a list that’s going to get her out of the office so I can work on things without being disturbed.

“Sure, that works. I probably have a ton.” When I think she’s going to leave, she doesn’t instead, she lifts her eyes to meet mine when she says, “Please don’t feel like you need to keep me around. If you want to let me go, no hard feelings, okay?”

Has she lost her goddamn mind? Let her go? Jesus, her job is the only thing right now keeping her close to me, so there’s no way I’m going to let her go. No, I’m going to hold on to her as long as I can.

But I don’t say what’s on my mind, I keep it neutral and say, “It’s something we can talk about later. Right now, let’s just work on tackling our emails and getting through the morning. I’ll email you a list of things in the next hour.”

Her face falls, and I wonder if I said something wrong, if she was looking for another answer, but before I can question it, she’s out of her chair and headed to her desk. She looks over her shoulder and says, “If you need anything, just let me know.” She shuts the door behind her.

Yes, I need something. I need you. I need you to come home with me. I need you to be my girl. I need you to love me.

Leaning back in my chair, I pull up an empty email and start filling it with tasks. Tasks that will keep her as far away from the office as possible for the rest of the day.

I have some planning to do.

Inever realized what an unimaginative asshole I was until today.

Blank.

I’m drawing a complete blank when it comes to ideas to show Charlee how much she really means to me. Because I can say it until I’m blue in the face, but she’s never going to believe me until I actually show her.

But the ideas of showing her are next to nothing. All I have on my notepad is buy more pastries. As much as I wish it were true, I’m afraid a Danish won’t solve anything.

I’m desperate and when I’m desperate, I do things I shouldn’t. Charlee is gone for the day, I made sure of it, so I pull up my contact list on my Mac and dial the only person who will be able to help me.

My computer FaceTime rings a few times until it’s finally answered.

“This better be good,” Julia answers with an annoyed tone.

“Who the hell is calling us on our honeymoon?” Bram asks in the background.

The phone is tossed onto what I’m assuming is their bed. “It’s your boyfriend.”

“Rath?” Bram asks and then scrambles for the phone. His tanned face comes onto the screen and oddly, I start to feel a little bit at ease. “Dude, please tell me you’re calling me to tell me you’re back together with Charlee.”

I hated telling Bram what was going on, but Sunday morning after the wedding, during brunch, he called me out on my mood and I had to explain to him what happened. He was beside himself to say the least. We didn’t get too much into it though, because they had to catch a plane. I told him not to worry about me and everything was going to be okay.

Well, it’s not okay and I need his advice.

“Unfortunately, no.”

“Seriously?” He flops back on his pillow. “What the fuck is going on?”

I lean back as well. “She went to her parents’ place all last week. Wouldn’t answer any of my texts. I wasn’t even sure she was going to come in today, but I prepared myself if she did. I brought in pastries.”

“Smooth.” Bram nods.

“I thought so, but when I saw her, it’s as if a robot replaced the fun, bubbly girl I’ve come to love. And then, the kick to the crotch, she sat down and asked if we could set some ground rules.”

“Nooooo.” Bram covers his eyes. “Not fucking ground rules.”

“Yeah, good old G-R.”

“Ground rules are the death to any relationship.”

“Tell me about it. I told her to write down her ideas and we would go over them tomorrow.”

“Smart, avoidance, I like it. So, what’s next?”

“I don’t know.” I shake my head. “I need to come up with some way to show her just how much I care about her. I was hoping you could help me.”

“You’ve come to the right person.” His eyes widen. “I know, fill the office with rose petals and candles. Girls love that stuff.”

“Yeah? Where do I get rose petals from?”

“A florist? I don’t know, you’re rich, make some calls. Oh, and get more pastries. Make a pastry tower. Girls love sweets too. And play some music, some of that . . . oh shit, you know, you should get Josh Groban to come and sing a love song, or Michael Bublé, isn’t he in town? I’m sure you could easily buy him for an hour. No girl can say no to Michael. And then just for the hell of it, hold a puppy when you say sorry.”

“A puppy?”

“Yes, girls love puppies, impossible to say no to them. Believe me, it—”

The phone is snatched from his grasp and Julia comes into picture. “That is some of the worst advice I’ve ever heard. You better hope you never make me mad because those tactics don’t work on me.”

“You’re right,” Bram says. “You’re easy. I just rub my dick on your leg and you’re like goo in my hand.”

“What is wrong with you? Congratulations, you just earned yourself a sexless night on your honeymoon.”

“Why? Because you like dick on your leg? Rath already knew that.”

“I really didn’t.” I pinch my brow together. “And if we can stop repeating that, that would be great.”

“If you want to make things right with Charlee, you need to get to the root of the problem. Throwing superficial shit at her is never going to solve the problem. You want to show her you’re sorry; think about your relationship and what you lacked in, what she wanted more from you.”

And just like that, an idea pops in my head.

Shit, I should have talked to my sister first; she’s the professional matchmaker, after all.

“Julia, that’s brilliant.”

“Yeah, what are you thinking?”

“My plan was brilliant too,” Bram says, sounding insulted in the background.

Ignoring him, I say, “She always wanted me to open up more, to show more of my true self, my fears, and the reasons I am the way I am.”

“That’s a valid thing for a girl to want to know about the guy she’s going to marry.”

“Yeah, it is, but when it came down to it, I was too scared to open up for fear that she was going to run like Vanessa did. That’s why I was so adamant about not using the ring as a threat. But now that I know I can’t live without her in my life, and that I’m willing to do anything to win her back, it looks like I’ll be opening up with a grand gesture.”

“Did someone say grand gesture?” Bram asks, coming up behind Julia. “I can help with doves, tell me where to send them.”

Feeling lighter for the first time in a while, I shake my head. “No doves, but I do have a lot of work to get done. You guys enjoy the rest of your honeymoon; sorry for disturbing it.”

“Any time, big guy,” Bram says. “Let us know how it all pans out.”

Julia blows a kiss at me. “We’re rooting for you.”

I say my thank yous and hang up. Tomorrow morning is not that far away, and if I’m going to make this work, I need to get moving . . . now.