“Good morning, Ka-”

Charlotte stops short, poised to hang her coat on the rack by the door when she finds the front desk unoccupied. Her brow furrows as she looks around, confused. Kaitie is always there before her, a fact that Kaitie takes pride in and often points out in front of Amelia. She shrugs settling her coat on a hook; maybe she was running late. Kaitie was, contrary to popular belief, human and was just as likely to hit the snooze button as she herself was. Still Charlotte found it slightly odd to be here alone. Especially with all the preparations that had to be done before Amelia left for Memphis in three days.

Charlotte had been overjoyed to learn that Amelia and Justin would be leaving the city for Christmas. This meant that she could go home as well and even though she’d known for several weeks that their destination was Justin’s hometown she didn’t dare to hope too much. Amelia was known to change her mind and Charlotte was sure that Christmas in Tennessee didn’t exactly seem like her scene, the south of France maybe, but the American South, never. She had a hard time picturing Amelia in the country, but it was amusing to think about on slow days when all she was doing was answering the phone.

Amelia did little to conceal her disdain for going to see her future in-laws for the holidays whereas Justin seemed overjoyed to be going home. Charlotte still saw him nearly every day, running things back and forth between him and Amelia and of course he called her every morning for the weather report as became their ritual once she’d been relieved of her temporary duties as his assistant. The closer the departure date came the happier he seemed, thrilled to be leaving the city, to see his best friend Trace, and, much to Charlotte’s pleasant surprise, to see his mother. When he talked about finally being home again his face was priceless, much like Charlotte’s own face (or so she imagined) when she thought about going home.

In two days she was getting on a plane and leaving this godforsaken city for Pittsburgh where her intolerable older brother would pick her up in his not-squad car as promised numerous times by her father where he would probably frisk her in front of everyone at the baggage claim. But she could deal with that because as awful as Isaac was she missed his stupid practical jokes. She missed Paul’s constant whining about how he always got stuck in the rickety chair at dinner. She missed her dad’s booming laugh and her mother’s soft voice warbling only slightly off key as she made dinner. She couldn’t wait to be home.

Charlotte shakes her head and takes a few steps into the office, noticing for the first time that Amelia’s office door is open. She stops in her tracks, her stomach suddenly tightening and her mind beginning to race. What if someone was here? What if Kaitie was tied up somewhere and Charlotte would be the next victim? She should step out and go down to security, call the office, see if someone answers. This is the safe thing to do.

Just then her cell phone rings, the loud jaunty polka muted from inside of her purse but it’s still loud enough to wake the dead. She scrambles to answer it, her hands trembling and now she’s for sure found out. She hopes this murderer is quick…or at least not a rapist.

“Hello?” she asks, her voice trembling slightly as she eyes the open door to Amelia’s office, trying to discern any movement from inside.

“Hey Al! Should I wear my waterproof parka today or just the regular one?” Justin asks jovially and Charlotte cringes.

“I…I don’t know…” she replies and it’s quiet on the other line for a second.

“You okay? You sound freaked,” he says, his voice slightly concerned and Charlotte swallows hard.

“Um…I…I got here,” Charlotte whispers, backing slowly towards the door, reaching for the handle. “And…Kaitie isn’t here…and Amelia’s office door is open…and…” she trails, trying to turn the doorknob slowly so it won’t make a sound.

“Get out of there,” Justin says sternly and she can imagine him standing from his desk. “Go downstairs. I’ll be there in ten minutes….Charlotte?”

She doesn’t respond because a shadow has fallen across the floor of Amelia’s office and she’s frozen in her spot, one hand on the door, the other clutching the phone where Justin is shouting her name, his voice slightly panicked. She feels like she should scream but her vocal chords aren’t working at the moment.

Her stomach drops to her toes when she sees Amelia peer around the doorframe and she heaves a shaky sigh of relief. Justin is still prattling frantically in her ear and she swallows hard.

“It’s okay…JUSTIN…it’s okay. It was just Amelia,” Charlotte says, chuckling slightly at herself and her over reaction.

The line is silent for a moment. “God, get out while you still can!” he yells suddenly, his voice cracking in the middle and Charlotte bursts out laughing and so does he.

“Oh god is that Justin,” Amelia says rolling her eyes and disappearing back into her office.

“I have to go,” Charlotte says.

“Yeah, yeah so I’ll just stay in the dark about the parka…you go be mass murdered. Have fun,” Justin replies sarcastically and Charlotte sniggers.

“Good BYE Justin,” she says pointedly before flipping her phone shut and slipping it back into her purse.

She sighs, shaking her head as she drops her purse behind the front desk and goes about doing the morning routine. She moves to start the coffee pot but finds it’s already been done. She leans over, peering inside Amelia’s office and finds her at her desk, her mug at her elbow as she browses the mail. The newspapers and magazines are already on her desk as well. Charlotte’s face crumples in confusion. There is no way Amelia did all these things herself.

“Charlotte, get me the RIAA fax from yesterday,” Amelia calls with a sigh and Charlotte shuffles to the filing cabinet, locating the proper document before scurrying into Amelia’s office.

She hands her the paper, pausing when she sees the time on the clock on the bookshelf. Kaitie is really late. That wasn’t like her. Maybe she was attacked on her way to work. Charlotte shakes her head. What is wrong with her today?

“Was there something you needed?” Amelia asks, her voice slightly annoyed and Charlotte realizes she’s been standing next to her for longer than was customary.

“Oh, no,” Charlotte says, shaking her head. “I was just wondering where Kaitie was. She’s usually here by now…I didn’t know if we should be worried or not.”

Amelia snorts. “Kaitie is no longer employed here.”

Charlotte’s jaw drops. She scans Amelia’s perfect face for any sign of regret but finds only smugness and slight annoyance, which only means one thing. Kaitie didn’t quit. She was fired. But why, Charlotte wonders. She thought for sure that she herself would be let go before Kaitie. Kaitie was so…perfect. She was always impeccably dressed, not a hair out of place. She catered to Amelia’s every whim, agreeing with her no matter what the topic.

“Why?” Charlotte finds herself asking before she can stop the word from falling out of her mouth and Amelia doesn’t even look up as a wicked smile tugs at her lips.

“I had to let her go,” Amelia sighs in what is supposed to be a sound of sadness but underneath there is unadulterated glee. She brings her eyes up, locking them on Charlotte’s as she continues. “I don’t tolerate leaks.”

Every word is carefully pronounced, underscoring her point perfectly and Charlotte almost trembles under the weight of her stare. Amelia turns back to her paperwork and Charlotte blinks a few times, trying to unstick her feet from the floor. She nods mutely, whether Amelia sees or not she isn’t sure, and turns to leave.

“You remember my first wedding gown?” Amelia asks airily and Charlotte stops in her tracks turning to face the desk again. Amelia is still flipping through documents, seemingly unfettered by anything.

Charlotte blinks. “Yes,” she says and then because she doesn’t know where this is going she adds, “It was lovely.”

“Kaitie went with me for my fitting,” Amelia says, jotting down a few notes and turning a page. “You remember, it was one of your first days working for me. Three days later ten thousand dollars cleared her bank account from Wenner Media. Do you know what Wenner Media’s main avenue of business is?”

Charlotte cannot speak to answer. Not so much from the shock of what Amelia said but from that fact that she had access to Kaitie’s bank records. Was there nothing Amelia couldn’t get her hands on?

“Magazine publication,” Amelia replies, leaning back in her chair and threading her fingers over her flat stomach. “They print Rolling Stone, Men’s Health,” she pauses, her eyes boring into Charlotte’s, “and Us Weekly.

“I’ve had my suspicions for a while,” Amelia sighs, reaching for a stack of papers on her desk. “And then when you and Justin were ambushed by the paparazzi a few weeks ago another ten grand appeared in her account, this time from TMZ.” She sighs shaking her head. “I knew something had to be done. I let her go this morning.”

“I’m so sorry,” Charlotte says softly, not really sure what to say in the situation because frankly it was like something out of a soap opera. Ten thousand dollars for a picture of a wedding dress, for the whereabouts of a former pop star and his assistant? It seemed so ridiculous.

“No matter,” Amelia says waving her hand. “It just means that you’ll have to take over for a while.”

Charlotte’s face blanches. She’ll have to take over? How could she possibly do more than she was? Between answering phones, ferrying documents here and there, accompanying Amelia on business lunches, meetings, and power-shopping hours she couldn’t fathom running all her menial errands as well.

“And of course you’ll need to screen for a new assistant,” Amelia adds and Charlotte fights the urge to throw her hands in the air. “I’m thinking of hiring two actually, one strictly to answer the phones and then another to be my second assistant. You will of course be promoted to first. Justin had said something about you wanting a raise.”

“I never said that,” Charlotte says quickly and Amelia looks up raising an eyebrow.

“Well, I hope you’re not too disappointed when you get your check then,” she replies sarcastically and Charlotte flushes.

“Thank you, Amelia,” she says forcing an uncomfortable smile.

“The temp agency is sending a few girls here later,” Amelia replies looking back down at the papers in front of her and then adds, “I want at least one position filled before I leave for Memphis.” She spits the last word as if it was vile and she could barely stand to have it on her tongue for even an instant.

Charlotte cringes. “Um, okay but…” she trails when Amelia looks up at her, her blue eyes boring holes into her. Charlotte swallows hard. “My…my flight leaves Thursday at five. I’ll do my best to-”

Charlotte is cut off by Amelia’s tinkling laughter. “Charlotte, dear,” she clears her throat as if she expected not to have to be telling Charlotte this. “You’re flight leaves Friday morning at 9. Because my flight leaves Friday morning at nine.”

Charlotte’s face falls, her stomach curling painfully. “Wh-what?”

 “Since Kaitie is no longer with us that only leaves you. A town car will pick you up at seven.” She looks down and then looks up at her, her face pulled into a grimace. “You still live in the Bronx right?” She almost shudders.

“But…” Charlotte starts and Amelia raises an eyebrow. “But…I was…my family…”

“Will understand,” Amelia says flippantly, and Charlotte nods solemnly, clenching her teeth as she turns to leave. “Oh Charlotte…”

She turns to face her boss, forcing the tears from her eyes and gritting out a tight smile. She would not cry. She would not cry. She would not cry…

“This needs to go to Justin,” she says, handing Charlotte a thick magazine from the corner of her desk. “I’ve put post-it notes on the pages of arrangements I like. Yellow is definite, blue is maybe, and green is for maybe, maybe not.”

Charlotte takes it from her and turns, Amelia muttering not so much as a thank you in her wake. No Christmas in Cannonsburg. No fake arrest at the baggage claim. No fighting over seats at dinner. No family viewing of It’s A Wonderful Life. She crushes the magazine to her chest as she leaves the office, not even bothering with her coat. She’s holding onto the booklet for dear life, her fingers wrapping tightly around the edges, crumpling Amelia’s little post-it note flags and she doesn’t care.  She’s beyond caring at this point.

The ride to Justin’s office is quick, much quicker than she would have liked. She was hoping to be stuck in traffic for a while, just leaning her head back against the cool leather seat of the town car, mourning her lost family Christmas. She had hoped for at least enough time to effectively swallow the lump in her throat but New York City traffic was not on her side this morning. She made it to Justin’s office in a little under ten minutes.

She takes the elevator up to his office, trying to mentally prepare herself. She is not in the mood for his jokes right now. As childish as it is, she blames him. Blames him for asking this horrible woman to marry him, for being famous and attracting enough attention that someone would pay an assistant ten thousand dollars for the inside scoop on his life.

She knows it’s childish and she knows it’s irrational. But all she wanted was to go home for Christmas, to see her family. She shakes her head, stepping off of the elevator and opening the door to Justin’s offices. Of course Felicity is nowhere to be found as she steps inside. She sighs, her annoyance reaching its boiling point as she knocks quickly on Justin’s door, not even waiting for a response before pushing it open.

The magazine nearly slips from her fingers as she sees Justin leaning casually against the front of his desk, his jacket discarded on a nearby chair, with Patti standing close in front of him, her sky high heels planted on either side of his ankles as her hands work on the tie at his throat. Patti turns suddenly, probably at the sound of Charlotte’s gasp and Justin peers over her shoulder, his eyes widening as he sees Charlotte standing stock still in the doorway. They bolt apart like opposing sides of a magnet, putting five feet between them, Patti smoothing her hair back from her temple, Justin running his hands down the front of his slacks. Charlotte looks at the floor.

“I-I-I’m sorry,” she stutters, her stomach twisting in knots as she shifts from foot to foot awkwardly.

“No problem,” Patti says, her voice somewhat manic as she stumbles over her own feet in her haste to get to the door. “The tie looks good, Justin. And think about that seating arrangement.”

“Thanks,” he says, smoothing it down his chest, clearing his throat and scratching his ear nervously. “I will.”

“Charlotte,” Patti says by way of greeting and goodbye as she brushes past her and Charlotte merely nods in response, feet rooted to the floor.

The sound of the front office door closing sounds like a cannon in the near silent room. Charlotte refuses to look at Justin, refuses to meet his eyes. So Amelia was right. In that moment she hates all of them. Hates Amelia for being such a fucking bitch, for thinking so little of him. Hates Justin for not rising above it, for fucking anything in a short skirt. She thought she knew him. Disappointment tastes bitter in her mouth.

“You got something for me?” Justin asks, his tone jovial and it almost hurts her ears.

A punch in the mouth. “A magazine from Amelia,” she takes a cautious step forward as he moves around his desk, flopping back in his chair as she hands it to him.

“Martha Stuart Living?” Justin asks in mock interest. He gasps. “The floral issue. Oh Charlie you shouldn’t have. It’s too much!” He grins. Charlotte forces a bitter smile back at him. His brow furrows. “Why the long face, Al? Your Doppler radar machine broken?”

You’re playing into Amelia’s evil plan by fucking the bimbo wedding planner, you utter moron. “Amelia fired Kaitie,” and she can’t help adding bitterly, “but I’m sure you knew that.”

Justin’s frown deepens. “No… no I didn’t know that,” he drops the magazine onto his desk and leans back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “She tell you why?”

“Apparently she sold Amelia’s first wedding dress to some magazine and then she told those photographers where to find you when you were getting your tux fitted-”

“Are you fucking serious?” he asks, and Charlotte looks up to find his face a hard mask of anger. “God I didn’t think she was like that,” he mutters to himself and Charlotte can’t help but wonder if he’s been banging Kaitie too.

“Yes, it’s just tragic,” Charlotte replies, barely masking the sarcasm in her voice and she looks at Justin to find him confused by her tone. He almost looks hurt but she’s sure it’s just her imagination.

“You okay?” he asks carefully, his eyes cautious and he has that look on is face that he gets when he’s trying to gauge Amelia’s mood.

“I’m fine,” Charlotte says, forcing what she hopes is a brilliant smile and his eyebrows raise, unfooled.

“You’re not fine Charlotte,” he says, his voice gentle and she sighs, falling into a chair across from him.

“I’ve been promoted,” she says, her voice dull and Justin grins.

“Don’t sound too excited there kiddo,” he teases and Charlotte’s eyes well suddenly.

The memory hits her quickly and she’s in the middle of her front yard, the sky a hazy gray above her. She’s four years old, sitting on the sidewalk, clutching her baby doll to her chest, wide eyes looking up at the sky. A drop falls directly into her eye, stinging and she snaps them shut, tilting her chin down and shaking her head. She presses her fingers to her doll’s lids, forcing them down but they won’t stay, fluttering open, in danger of being attacked by the droplets as well. And then she hears it as clear as if it were just yesterday. “Come on kiddo, it’s starting to rain.”

Her dad always called her kiddo. She doesn’t speak, locking her jaw tight, not trusting herself to even blink. She stares at her hands in her lap, her knuckles blurred as she fights the tears. She will not cry. She will not cry. She will not cry.

“Hey,” Justin says softly, and she can hear him standing from his chair. He can’t come near her. She doesn’t want him near her. The cheating lying bastard.

He kneels beside her chair and she can feel his hand resting on the arm. She crosses her arms, keeping away from his touch. He doesn’t reach out to her. She hears him clear his throat and feels him shift next to her.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, his voice tender and she shakes her head. She cannot speak. She will not cry. “Okay… well…you were promoted. Congratulations!” he exclaims and she snorts, an unwilling laugh pulling from her throat. He continues, encouraged. “Now that Kaitie’s gone you’ve got the run of the office. Seniority. Hey, you’ll have minions you can boss around! That’ll be fun!” She laughs again, despite herself. Damn him. He continues. “And you’ll be Amelia’s right hand man…er woman…wait that’s not exactly a perk…” he trails and she finally chances a glance at him, finding his face pulled into a look of revelation, his mouth forming a silent “oh” of understanding. “You have to go to Memphis with us.”

Charlotte nods, looking down at her hands again, squeezing her finger tight as the well of emotion pushes behind her eyes again. She inhales a shaky breath and she hears Justin make a small sound of pity in his throat, his hand moving to rest on her shoulder sympathetically. She tenses and he moves it immediately.

“Look, I’ll talk to Amelia okay,” he says softly and she chances a look at him. He gives her a small smile of encouragement. “She doesn’t need an assistant out there anyway.”

Charlotte nods, sniffing as softly as possible, her cheeks reddening at the show of emotion. He leans forward, snatching a tissue from the box on his desk and offers it to her. She takes it, smiling still slightly embarrassed as she wipes her nose. He pats her shoulder again before standing and moving back around his desk, reaching for the magazine, leafing through it with a sigh.

“Flowers huh?” he asks, looking utterly bored as he flips through the pages.

“Hard hitting journalism right there,” Charlotte quips, balling up her tissue and dropping it in the trash can next to his desk. Justin chuckles before heaving a sigh. “I…I better get back,” she says after a moment, hauling herself out of the chair. “I have applicants to screen.”

Justin sniggers. “Good luck with that,” he says dryly. “And congratulations on the promotion.”

“Thanks,” Charlotte replies with a sigh, moving towards the door.

“Oh, Charlotte,” he says and she stops, turning to find him looking at her uncertainly. “You…you know that…that nothing was going on…with Patti earlier.” He straightens his tie nervously.

Charlotte blushes furiously. “Um…yeah! Yeah, of course. Mum’s the word.” She grits her teeth. You utter bastard.

“Well, thanks,” he says, chuckling slightly. “It doesn’t really matter.” Then his face turns serious. “But really…she was just straightening my tie. You believe me…” his eyes search her face uncertainly. “right?”

“Of course,” Charlotte replies, forcing a smile and he returns it uneasily, leaning back in his chair and opening the magazine again. She turns to leave, cursing him silently.

“Oh Charlie,” he calls and she turns again with a sigh, eyeing him in a way that she hopes doesn’t show how irritated she actually is. He holds up the magazine. “What do the post-its mean?”

“Oh the greens are definites, blues are maybes, and yellows are the maybe, maybe nots,” she says in a fit of childish hostility. Let’s see how Amelia takes to him liking all the ones she really didn’t care for. Serves him right the bastard.

“Thanks Charlie,” he says with a sigh examining the open page carefully. “And don’t worry about Christmas. I have it completely under control.”

***

“Charlotte do you have my small bag? I didn’t see it on the cart – No we’ll be gone for a week…yes I understand that you’re new but how hard is it to locate the proper file. Look under R…for Rolling Stone,” Amelia sighs, switching her phone to her other ear and looking back over her shoulder, finding Charlotte struggling to pull her suitcase as well as carry two of Amelia’s.

“Here lemme help you,” Justin says, falling back to stand next to her, shouldering one of Amelia’s carry-ons over his own and Charlotte sighs. He lowers his voice. “I’m really sorry. I tried-”

“Don’t worry about it,” Charlotte says quickly, switching her tote bag to her now free shoulder and sighing, beginning to walk again.

It was true he’d done everything he possibly could have to get Amelia to let her go. Offered to bring Felicity instead, sent her flowers, even had her mother talk to Amelia about it but she would not budge. His fervor for the task had worn Charlotte down to the point where she wasn’t even really mad at him anymore. Especially when as a last resort and in a harrowing display of masculinity he threw the biggest fit Charlotte had ever seen from a man. He rivaled Amelia which was really saying something. Then again he had learned from the best.

“Will you two hurry up, we’re going to be late,” Amelia says from down the hallway, slipping her phone in her purse.

“Honey, it’s a private flight. I doubt they’re gonna leave without us,” Justin replies and Amelia just glares at him, crossing her arms over her chest as she waits.

Charlotte can’t help but marvel at her, standing tall in four inch heels, her charcoal pencil skirt hugging her thighs perfectly. Her pale pink sweater accentuates the rose of her cheeks and the soft pout of her lips, her butter cream blond hair tied back in a chic bun. Even Justin next to her looks dashing in pressed khakis and a soft, cotton polo. Charlotte feels horribly inadequate in her sweatpants and hooded sweatshirt.

“We have a scheduled flight time,” Amelia responds as they approach and Charlotte looks around, wondering exactly what they’re doing.

“The guy isn’t even here yet,” Justin replies, stifling a yawn and reaching down to adjust himself in his khakis as discreetly as possible.

“Quit that,” Amelia whispers slapping his arm and he rolls his eyes, hiking the bags higher on his shoulder.

“Why are we leaving so early again?” Justin asks, yawning again into the back of his hand, finally letting the bags slip to the floor, rolling his neck on his shoulders.

“What…” Amelia begins and Charlotte looks over at her when she doesn’t continue, finding Amelia eyeing her bag, her nose wrinkled in disgust. “What on earth is that?”

Charlotte glances down at the black canvas tote on her shoulder and then glances back at Amelia who has stepped forward to run her finger along the green stitching of her name, Charlotte Elizabeth, between where the handles were attached. Charlotte swallows hard.

“Is this…is this your purse?” Amelia asks, gripping the sides and stretching the fabric tight. She lets go and rubs her fingers together as if the canvas came off on her hands, sullying her perfect skin.

“That’s cute,” Justin says, nodding. “Does it say ‘Al’ on the other side?”

“My…my mom made it for me,” Charlotte says, her cheeks pinkening when Amelia’s eyebrows rush to her hairline. “She stitched the lettering I mean. She sent my Christmas presents early…so I’d have them for the trip.”

“That’s….sweet,” Amelia says, forcing a smile and Charlotte wishes the floor would swallow her whole.

“Yeah cool,” Justin says, running his fingers along the stitching, and Charlotte can tell he actually means it. “Does she sew golf bags? I want my name on my golf bag. Or…” His eyes light up, bouncing on the balls of his feet excitedly. “Or…Golf God.” He sweeps his arm out in front of him as if seeing it in front of his very eyes, sighing whimsically.

Charlotte laughs and Amelia looks at him as if he was insane, shaking her head. Justin grins at both of them, throwing his arms around their necks and Charlotte tenses, Amelia groaning and trying to wriggle away from him. He kisses Amelia’s forehead hard, giving them both a squeeze before letting go and picking up the bags again. Amelia narrows her eyes at him, rubbing her forehead before sighing and patting his shoulder affectionately.

“Hey look our escort!” he says as a short, harassed looking man hurries up to them. “Hey Tom how ya doin?”

“Sorry for the wait,” he says, chancing a quick glance at Amelia. “If you’ll just follow me?”

They follow him down a hallway and through a door and Charlotte tenses as the bitter December wind blows right through her sweatshirt, the empty plain of the tarmac doing little to shield the blustery air. They’re walking quickly towards a small plane, the engine humming louder and louder as they approach. Amelia climbs the stairs, quickly disappearing inside and Justin after her. Charlotte follows and nearly gasps at the sight of what looks like a mix between a board room and a living room, a large meeting table with six leather chairs surrounding it directly in front of her and then a little ways behind it a small living area with a large leather couch and chair, a massive flat screen TV on the far wall. Amelia settles at the large table, pulling her computer and portfolio planner out of her bag.

“You’re gonna work?” Justin asks dropping his bag next to the table and plopping down in a seat beside her.

“Yes, Justin, I have a lot to do. We’re short handed at the office as you well know,” Amelia says with a sigh and Justin nods.

“Hey Charlie flick on the TV will ya,” he asks as Charlotte shuffles past them. “See if there’s a game on.”

“What kind of game?” Charlotte asks dropping her bags with a thud next to the large leather armchair, looking around for the remote.

“I dunno. As long as it’s a sport I don’t care,” he grins and Charlotte shakes her head, finding the remote and flicking the TV on.

“SportsCenter?” Charlotte asks scrolling through the menu.

“Perfect,” he says, squinting at the television as Charlotte falls into the large chair, her body sinking in comfortably.

They’re quiet for a moment, listening to the announcers talk in animated voices on the television. The plane jerks into motion and Charlotte tenses, feeling the jet taxi along the runway. Taking off always makes her nervous, the jostle and force with which an airplane hurled itself down a runway and that moment in which the wheels leave the tarmac and they’re launched into the air curling her stomach. She doesn’t unclench her hands until they’re safely coasting at 28,000 feet.

“I looked at those flowers,” Justin says, tugging the magazine out of his bag and Charlotte tenses. “I really liked the ones on page twenty-four.”

“Um…Justin?” she says quietly but Amelia is already looking at the page he has open to her.

She wrinkles her nose. “You like those?”

“Yeah,” Justin beams, looking very pleased with the fact the he liked the same thing as Amelia for once.

“I don’t know,” Amelia says, flicking through the pages and opening it to another page. “You don’t like this one?”

“You don’t like that one.” Justin states, eyeing her confused and Amelia blinks at him. “It has a yellow post-it.”

Amelia rolls her eyes. “The yellow post-its are the ones I like. The green post-its are the one’s I don’t like. Honestly, Justin…” she sighs and then glances at Charlotte. “Didn’t Charlotte tell you that?”

Justin glances over at Charlotte and her eyes meet his briefly, feeling as if the guilt was going to eat her alive. He just looks at her for a moment before giving a slight nod of his head, his face revealing nothing.

“Yeah,” he says turning back to Amelia. “I must have gotten it mixed up…”

Amelia scoffs, rolling her eyes again. Charlotte’s nails bite into her palms as she waits for her to berate him but it doesn’t come. She tells herself that if Amelia had thrown a fit she would have confessed. But this does little to quell her guilt.

“I’m so glad we’re doing this,” Justin says and Charlotte looks over to find him watching Amelia, a pleasant expression on his face. Amelia hums, unlistening. “It’s been too long since I’ve been home.”

Amelia hums a response.

“You know I haven’t even seen Rachel’s baby yet!” Justin exclaims with a sigh. “The kid’s already nine months old! And Trace has some new sketches for the Spring line he says are just amazing.”

“That’s nice dear,” Amelia mutters, leaning down to search in her bag.

“God I can't wait to see my granny....we're gonna have peach cobbler and blackberry pie and apple crumb cake-”

Amelia snorts as she rights herself again, muttering “- and a heart attack.”

Justin grins gleefully. “Guh it’s gonna be great.”

“Yes, great,” Amelia replies with no enthusiasm whatsoever.

“Hey we should stop at the General Store on the way back. Get a burger or-”

“Justin!” Amelia says finally, sighing and looking at him perturbed. “I’m trying to work.”

He frowns. “Sorry,” he mumbles and sighs as he pulls himself from the chair and trudges over to the couch, stretching his lanky frame across it.

He squirms, trying to get comfortable, toeing off his sneakers, wiggling his socked toes. He peeks over the back of the couch finding Amelia immersed in paperwork, not paying him any attention. He reaches down, untucking his polo and stretching languidly, sighing contentedly as he relaxes completely. His eyes focus on the television, his arms dangling over his head and he yawns.

“Justin,” Charlotte says softly, glancing to make sure Amelia isn’t listening and he glances briefly at her before turning back to the television. “I… I’m sorry…about the-”

“Everyone makes mistakes,” he says shrugging his shoulders unaffectedly and it only makes her feel worse.

“No…really I-”

“Hey,” he says, looking at her and his eyes hold hers as much as she wishes she could look away she can’t. “It’s not a big deal.” He lowers his voice. “I’m not her. I’m not upset.”

He smiles at her and nods and she knows he’s telling the truth. He doesn’t think she did it on purpose, just that it was a slip of her overworked mind. He knows she wouldn’t do something like that. She feels as if she could be sick.

“It won’t happen again,” she says and she means it. She needs to say it even if he doesn’t fully understand.

He shrugs. “You ever been to Tennessee, Charlie?” Justin asks lazily and Charlotte glances at him, finding his eyes heavy as he watches the television.

“Nope,” she says, smiling at the way he looks just like a little kid trying to stay awake before nap time. “First time.”

He grins lazily. “Don’t worry we’ll be gentle.”