“I’ll have the Lombata di Vitello con Funghi Selvatici. Do your best to make sure the veal isn’t dry. Instead of the wild mushrooms I want the rice pilaf with a side of broccoli steamed. Not in the microwave but in an actual steamer. I know you have one back there. And could I please get another bottle of Perrier I’m absolutely parched.”
Charlotte does the best she can to hide behind the two wide pages of her menu but it doesn’t do much good. All eyes are on them, which, of course, is just the way Amelia wants it. That’s how everyone wants it when dining at Nello, the Upper Eastside Italian eatery more famous for its exorbitant prices and A-list clientele than the food they serve. All eyes are on the regal looking woman sitting in the dead center of the restaurant who up until this morning had long flowing golden hair that hung down her back in soft curls.
Charlotte had nearly fallen out of her chair when Amelia had returned from her appointment at the Red Door Salon with her hair cut into a short choppy style that made her ice blue eyes look wide and almost doe like. Pieces of her newly sheered bangs hung in a jagged left side part, blending down into the longer length that hung just down to her chin. Charlotte had to cover her mouth to contain her gasp when Amelia turned to hang up her coat and saw that the back looked totally different than the front, the hair graduating up with heavily clipped ends, looking textured and blended, exposing the elegant expanse of her neck. The effect was dazzling as she turned around again and Charlotte had marveled at how Amelia could somehow manage to look even more achingly beautiful than before. Justin on the other hand had a less than stellar reaction when he’d dropped by after his morning meeting to take a look.
“So what’s different about it?” he had asked Charlotte as he waited for Amelia to finish a business call in her office, eyeing her closed door apprehensively.
“Oh you’ll notice,” Charlotte had said with a chuckle shaking her head as she scrolled through Amelia’s email.
“See, all you women think that,” Justin had replied, leaning back in the chair across from her and before Charlotte could respond Amelia’s office door had opened and Justin’s eyes turned.
His mouth had fallen open, his blue eyes wide as Amelia stood in the doorway, a smug smile on her lips.
“It’s amazing right?” she had asked, shaking her head slightly as the choppy layers swished against her cheekbones.
“You…you cut your hair?” Justin had said, his voice thin and Charlotte couldn’t quite understand the utter disappointment on his face.
“Astute observation Justin,” Amelia replied exasperated. “It looks good right?”
“Well…yeah,” Justin had said, shifting in his chair. “But I liked your hair long….”
Amelia’s mouth pulled into a thin line. “Well, I like your hair short but that doesn’t seem to matter to you at all,” she had snapped and Justin’s brow furrowed.
“Please don’t tell me you did this because I haven’t shaved my head yet?” Justin asked and Amelia’s eyes widened causing Charlotte to duck her head and pretend not to be there.
“Yet??? I have been trying to get you an appointment for three months!” she had screeched and Justin cringed before scowling at her.
“Is that the reason?” Justin demanded his voice raising and Amelia’s laugh tinkled in a dangerous way.
“Yes, Justin,” she replied sarcastically, turning to go back into her office. “Because everything in this world revolves around you.”
They hadn’t spoken for the rest of the morning, Amelia pretending not to care but snapping at even the most minor of disturbances until it was time for lunch where she insisted Charlotte accompany her to work on plans for Justin’s birthday party.
Charlotte reaches for her Coke, sipping on it nervously as the waiter scribbles down Amelia’s order with fervor before turning to Charlotte, his nose turning up slightly.
“And for you?” he asks with a sigh.
“Erm…I guess…” Charlotte says, picking up her menu again and trying to decide if spaghetti is worth thirty-nine dollars. “I…I guess I’ll have the Fettuccine...” she leans the menu towards him and points so the waiter can see because there’s no way in hell she can pronounce the name of the dish and she blushes as she sees the slight roll of his eyes.
“That…that has a cream sauce,” Amelia says, slightly horrified and Charlotte blinks back at her.
“I like cream sauce,” Charlotte says as the waiter takes her menu and saunters away.
Amelia eyes her picking up her wine glass. “Obviously.”
Charlotte looks down at herself blushing as she tugs on the bottom of her sweater. She isn’t slim and buxom like Amelia. She has wide hips and a small chest but she is perfectly fine with her body. Or at least she thought she was. She tugs at her sweater again.
“You know,” Amelia says thoughtfully, eyeing Charlotte over her wine glass. “If you laid off the carbs I bet you could lose ten pounds easy.” Amelia nods, taking another sip from her glass and Charlotte shifts in her seat.
“Erm…thank you?” Charlotte says, not exactly sure how to respond.
“You just need a personal trainer,” Amelia says, reaching for her purse. “I mean I know you go to the gym but everyone needs a little guidance. The guy that Justin has is good. Of course he’s a little out of your price range I would imagine but I’m sure he’d know someone.”
Amelia plucks a small business card out of her wallet and hands it to Charlotte who looks at it blinkingly. “Um…thank you,” she says again and then looks up at Amelia perplexed. “How did you know I go to the gym?”
Amelia blinks at her for a moment before giving her an innocent smile. “Doesn’t everybody?”
“Well I supp-”
“You know actually,” Amelia says, eyeing her and Charlotte can practically see the wheels turning in her head. “I think I’ll set you up with his trainer anyway. There’s no telling what Justin’s doing while he’s there.” Amelia scoffs.
“Um…wouldn’t he be…working out?” Charlotte asks apprehensively and Amelia sighs, looking at her as if she were stupid.
“Well of course Charlotte,” she replies exasperated. “I’m saying you can just…” she trails, smiling sweetly, “keep an eye on him. Make sure he’s doing the reps he’s supposed to…make sure he keeps his eyes on the weights and not some twenty year old prosti-tot.” Amelia scoffs before leaning in conspiratorially, “And don’t think I don’t know Patti goes to the same gym.”
Charlotte chokes on the sip of soda she’d just taken, doing her best not to let the liquid spray out of her mouth. She does not want to have this conversation. She’d almost forgotten about the little incident before Christmas, walking in on Patti and Justin in a compromising position. It wasn’t exactly sordid but it wasn’t exactly innocent either and Charlotte despises the slight ache in her chest when she thinks about it.
“I’m not saying you have to follow him around or anything,” Amelia says, her large blue eyes holding an innocence that Charlotte can’t believe she can pull off. “I’m just saying keep an eye on him.”
“I…I dunno, Amelia,” Charlotte says slowly, “I mean I like my gym just fine. It’s quiet and no one really knows me…” she rambles, shifting uncomfortably and Amelia’s eyes light with understanding, giving her a sympathetic look. Charlotte is almost afraid to know what she’s thinking.
“Oh honey don’t worry! We all look terrible at the gym.” Amelia says reaching over to pat her hand condescendingly. “I can pretty much guarantee you won’t see anyone you know there.” She laughs. “I mean really who do you know on the Upper East Side? And Justin probably won’t even notice,” she says shrugging as she picks up her wine glass again, chuckling slightly to herself. “I mean it’s just you.”
Charlotte shifts in her seat, watching her fingers pick at the linen tablecloth and trying to tell herself that one didn’t sting. She realizes now why her trips to Justin’s office have been more frequent, why she calls him more than usual now. Amelia thinks she has an in, thinks that Justin trusts her. It also means that Amelia knows Justin couldn’t possibly be interested in her. She scolds herself slightly for being disappointed. Justin is engaged, to her boss for chrissake. This was why she didn’t like getting crushes. She always ended up being crushed.
“Okay so first things first,” Amelia says, squaring her shoulders back and reaching up to flick her newly shorn hair out of her eyes. “We need invitations.”
“Um,” Charlotte says, scrambling for her notebook and reading through the list of things she and Justin had discussed for his party. “maybe you could do a kind of scroll wrapped in ribbon?”
Amelia blinks at her slowly. “Why on earth would I do that?” she asks and Charlotte looks at her wide-eyed, panic seizing her.
“Well…it goes with the toga theme and-”
“Oh we’re not doing toga anymore,” Amelia says, waving a hand dismissively and Charlotte looks down at her notes dumbly.
“We’re not?” she asks and Amelia shakes her head.
“No, no, no our new theme,” she says, beaming back at Charlotte, her blue eyes sparkling and Charlotte is momentarily dazed. “is Black and White.”
Her voice is delicate as she says the words and she smiles, clearly pleased with herself for her cleverness. Charlotte looks down at her notes again. Nowhere does she have anything about black and white. When she and Justin had discussed ideas for his party it had only been a few days after New Years. Maybe he and Amelia had changed their minds or – Charlotte watches Amelia smile condescendingly at the waiter as he sets a bottle of Perrier in front of her – Justin’s mind was changed for him.
“It’s going to be so elegant!” Amelia sighs, her blue eyes going dreamy and Charlotte opens her mouth to protest but snaps it shut as Amelia goes on. “It will be evening attire, black and white only of course. I’ll need to contact Oscar de La Renta for a dress…Charlotte… why aren’t you writing any of this down?”
“Oh!” Charlotte exclaims, digging a pen out of her bag. “Um…are you sure Justin is going to want that-”
“Oh don’t be silly he’ll love it,” Amelia replies offhandedly as Charlotte begins to scribble down notes. “You’ll, of course, need a dress.”
“Me?” Charlotte squeaks her eyes flying to Amelia and finding her eyes roving over her appraisingly. “W-why me?”
“Well you’ll be there of course,” Amelia says with a sigh and Charlotte can’t help the smile that tugs at her lips.
“Justin wants me at his birthday party?”
“Oh I don’t know,” Amelia says disinterestedly. “I’ll need you there to help make sure things run smoothly,” Amelia says and Charlotte presses her lips together, fighting her frown. Of course.
“You know,” Amelia says slowly, still eyeing Charlotte carefully. “I have a Reem Acra that just might work perfectly for you.”
“A what?” Charlotte asks confused and Amelia rolls her eyes.
“A dress Charlotte!” Amelia exclaims and the couple at the table next to them glances over before twittering softly to each other. Charlotte blushes as Amelia mutters, “Honestly.”
“That’s…that’s not necessary,” Charlotte says, waving her hand, feeling her body tense.
“Oh don’t be silly. You don’t have anything like this and there is no way you’re going to that party in some black pant suit you bought at Macy’s,” Amelia scoffs with a patronizing smile and Charlotte bites her lip. That was exactly what she had planned on doing. “Besides I have the dress already. It was my third wedding gown choice,” she screws up her face in thought, “or maybe it was the fourth…I don’t know…anyway we’ll just hack off the train for you,” Amelia says waving a hand dismissively and then she chuckles eyeing Charlotte once more. “and take in the bust of course…widen the waist...”
“Thank you, Amelia,” Charlotte grits out, hoping that the sarcasm in her voice isn’t too evident. Amelia shrugs reaching for her Perrier.
“So anyway,” Amelia says, unscrewing the cap on the bottle, “Black and white. I was thinking black paper with white calligraphy for the invitations. We’ll need about five hundred I would think,” she says and then shrugs, “actually you better make it seven-fifty just in case.” She glances at Charlotte who is staring at her dumbfounded. “Why aren’t you writing any of this down?”
“Oh!” Charlotte says, jumping slightly and scribbling furiously in her notebook, missing the roll of Amelia’s eyes as she takes a sip of her water. “Um…how…how are you going to fit that many people in your apartment?”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Charlotte,” Amelia scoffs. “We’re having it at 583 of course. Oh the room is so perfect. Round tables with black and white linen tablecloths, alternating of course, one table black then one white. And white orchids! The centerpieces for the table should be tall and full. We can have Jean Georges do the menu. We’re going to need a band too…strings and horns I would think. Why aren’t you writing this down?”
Charlotte jumps. “I just…that’s not…”
She shifts in her seat trying to find a way to word this. Despite Amelia’s certainty that Justin will love this, Charlotte knows otherwise. Justin had said he wanted something small and intimate. He wanted beer and steak for dinner. He wanted cheesy crepe paper decorations and a small chocolate cake with buttercream icing and absolutely no candles. He didn’t really want a party at all but these were the things he asked for and it was his birthday. Amelia was going to wreck everything! The more Charlotte thinks about it the more agitated she becomes. Why couldn’t Amelia let Justin have what he wanted for just one night?
Amelia sighs impatiently. “Spit it out Charlotte!”
“Justin doesn’t want that!”
Charlotte’s eyes go wide, her hand creeping up to cover her mouth. The words had just slipped out, as they so often do with her- and her tone, God, her tone was anything but polite. She swallows hard as she watches Amelia’s face go dangerously blank.
“Amelia I-”
“You and Justin are close, yes?” Amelia asks, her voice innocent as she watches her hands smooth across the tablecloth and Charlotte swallows hard. “Yes?” she asks again more forcefully when Charlotte doesn’t answer, her eyes boring into Charlotte’s and Charlotte feels like a trapped animal.
“Y-yes.”
“That’s good,” she replies, nodding authoritatively and then pausing briefly. “He needs someone he can confide in, someone to trust.” Amelia’s forefinger traces lazily around the rim of her wine glass and Charlotte can feel herself starting to sweat. “I like that he trusts you because not only is there not a snowball's chance in hell that he would ever be remotely attracted to you, I know that you will tell me if I have anything to worry about.” Her eyes turn cold. “But if you think, for one second, that your little inside jokes and buddy-buddy rapport makes you the authority on what he wants or needs, Charlie,” Charlotte cringes at the ice in Amelia’s voice as she says the nickname. “then you are sadly mistaken.”
“I’m…I’m sorry,” Charlotte says, her head bowed like a contrite child as she watches one of her hands crush the other in her lap, forcing the tears back. “I don’t know what came over me. I’m sorry.”
“You should be,” Amelia spits, snatching up her wine glass and draining it. “Now I’m going to need you to contact 583 and reserve the space. Let them handle the bar but make sure they understand that it’s wine and champagne only.”
“Yes Amelia,” Charlotte says softly, her pen flying across the page, a lump still in her throat.
“Oh and after this I need you to go by Justin’s office and show him the preliminary guest list for the wedding. My mother faxed the papers this morning as well as catering options.” Amelia says and Charlotte nods mutely. “Can you handle that? Or would you like to give me insight into what my fiancé wants for our wedding as well?”
Charlotte’s face burns and she wishes that the floor would swallow her whole. “No…” she says slowly. “Again…I’m…I’m sorry Amelia.”
“Don’t let it happen again.”
***
Justin sighs as he pages down through yet another term sheet, his vision blurring with boredom. He doesn’t care if Grateman gets two buses or twenty for his upcoming tour. He doesn’t want to be doing this right now. He leans back in his chair, rubbing his hands over his handsome face and sighs, blinking back at the computer screen bleakly and before he knows it he’s humming the melody that he’s been weaving in his head all day. His fingers itch for the piano, for guitar strings, anything to get this out of his head. He glances down at the clock, finding it only to be three-thirty, nowhere near time to go home. Plus he has work to do. He blinks at the term sheet on his screen again, kicking his socked feet up onto the desktop and snatching for the keyboard, punching the down arrow with a sigh of annoyance.
His ears perk up when he hears laughter from outside his office door and he leans back in his chair, seeing Charlotte standing frozen in the doorway to the front office, her cheeks pink from the cold, her long dark hair tussled from the wind. He scowls. Long hair… But the thought leaves him as he watches Charlotte shake her head, grinning until the dimple reveals itself in her right cheek. He smiles despite himself, the melody in his head swelling and his fingers itch.
“Nice color, Fee,” Charlotte says and he hears Felicity’s girlish laugh. He sighs. Felicity must be painting her nails at her desk again. He just hopes to god it’s her fingernails this time.
“Thanks, it’s called ‘Hey Vito, is my Car Red-y’” Felicity replies and Charlotte blinks before bursting out laughing, the sound bringing its own chuckle out of Justin.
“Oh thanks Fee I needed that,” Charlotte says with a sigh as she reaches her hand out and Justin assumes she pats Felicity’s arm. He can’t really see from where he is.
“Is it funny?” Felicity asks and Charlotte just blinks at her, shaking her head again. “I don’t get it…”
“Think about it for a minute Fee it’ll come to you,” Justin calls, turning his face back to the screen and letting his feet fall to the floor again, dropping his keyboard to the desk with a clatter and he hears Charlotte giggle.
“Hey,” she says softly and he looks up as she crosses the threshold into his office, standing just inside the doorway, her arms wrapped around a stack of papers.
She’s wearing her old wool peacoat with a Kelly green scarf that makes her eyes look bright as emeralds, her long dark hair flowing over her shoulders. He frowns. Long hair…
“Amelia sent me over with some stuff about the wedding,” Charlotte says with a sigh and Justin turns his head back to the computer screen, anger bubbling inside him at the mere mention of his fiance’s name.
He can see his reflection dimly in his computer screen, which had gone dark from lack of use. He is frowning, deep lines drawn across his forehead and in between his eyebrows, his blue eyes darken and for a moment he doesn’t recognize himself. He looks old, so much older than he ever remembered himself looking and his eyes don’t hold that spark they once did. He reaches up to pick at his hair, a habit he’s had ever since he was a kid. If there was something he didn’t like about his appearance, he usually attributed it to his hair.
“She has a preliminary guest list here and some options for the menu-”
“Do you like me better with hair?” he asks suddenly, turning his head to the side slightly and brushing his fingers through the hair curling at his temple.
Charlotte blinks at him “Erm...I dunno…like I said she has the menu here and-”
“Cause when I was younger I didn't like it but I kinda like it now,” Justin continues as if he didn’t hear her. “I mean it’s kinda a pain in the ass sometimes, especially when it’s humid. But I dunno I just like it I guess.” He sighs. “Amelia likes it shaved. Hey, what do you think of Amelia's hair?”
He looks over at Charlotte who is regarding him disbelievingly, one eyebrow raised as she drops that ridiculous handbag Amelia bought for her onto the chair in front of his desk. “Are we seriously talking about hair right now?” she asks and Justin coughs out a laugh, shaking his head. What is he doing?
“Yeah I dunno,” he says, blinking hard and reaching for the papers in her hands. “Guest list? Is that what you said this was?”
Charlotte nods, a curtain of dark hair brushing against her cheek before she tucks it back behind her ear and the melody is back again, weaving methodically through his brain, one chord and then the next. He shakes his head, taking the pile of papers from her and looks over the list of names. His brow furrows.
“Shit I don’t know half these people,” he says, his stomach knotting slightly as he flicks through the pages.
“Oh sure you do,” Charlotte says rounding his desk and she leans over his shoulder, her dark hair falling into her face again and the scent of mangos surrounds him as she tucks it behind her ear. He looks at her frowning as she scans the sheet. Since when did her hair smell like mangos? “Look you know them.” She points. “John and Lydia Sheedy. You and Amelia had lunch with them-”
“Did you change your shampoo?” he asks, his voice slightly demanding and she looks at him wide eyed.
“Um…yeah,” she says, running her fingers through the ends of her hair nervously and the melody crescendos in his head, nearly blocking out her voice as she adds. “Does it bother you?”
“No,” he says shaking his head hard, trying to focus on the papers in his hands. “No…it’s just different.” Everything is different. His chest tightens.
“Hey Justin I’m leaving!” Felicity calls from the front office and he glances up to see her give him a short wave as she slips out the door.
He doesn’t even respond, just looks at the papers in his hands, reading over name after name, most of which he recognizes but he wouldn’t know them if he saw them. His eyes search and search, flipping page after page and finally at the bottom of the page he sees his mother’s name and then his grandparents’ and then Rachel’s. He sighs, his chest lightening slightly as he goes to turn the page and…he blinks. That was the last page.
“I don’t know these people, Charlie,” Justin says, dropping the packet on his desk with a scowl.
“No!” Charlotte says and then sighs. “Oh come on look. There’s Rachel!” she says pointing to his cousin’s name.
“Trace isn’t even fucking on here,” Justin spits and he can feel Charlotte tense next to him at the harsh tone of his voice.
“Well…” she says slowly, her voice soft. “He’s your best man. He doesn’t need an invitation,” Charlotte scrambles and Justin gives her a dubious look. “Right?” Her eyes are hopeful and there’s that melody again. He shakes his head.
“Yeah, you’re right… I guess,” he says with a sigh and Charlotte pats his shoulder.
“I’ll make sure he gets one,” Charlotte says nodding as she picks the packet up off his desk. “I’ll get in touch with your mom as well. See if she has anyone she can think of to invite on your side.”
“Thanks Charlie,” he says feebly and the melody weaves and dances in his head. God he wishes he had a piano right now.
“And here’s the catering menu,” Charlotte says, laying another sheet of paper in front of him and he picks it up scanning it.
“Duck?” he asks, the melody stuttering to a stop and he crinkles his nose. “I hate duck.”
“There’s lamb on there too,” Charlotte says, pointing helpfully.
The lightness of her voice is laced with something he can’t quite place. It’s hard to think because the melody crescendos again and his vision almost blurs with it. Something is happening to him and he doesn’t quite understand it. Ever since this morning he’s felt off, something amiss. He was fine at his morning meeting and then he dropped by Amelia’s office to see her hair. He grits his teeth at the memory of her stepping out of her office and he’d barely recognized her. The sharp edges of her shorn hair blending down to her chin made her cheekbones look high and rigid, the former roundness of her face giving way to sharp angles and her eyes, God her eyes looked like large round ice rinks in her skull. There was no way that was the girl he’d fallen in love with. She didn’t look anything like her. His girl was all soft golden curls falling down her back or pulled up in a twist or a bun. She was classic and timeless, like Ingrid Bergman and Janet Leigh, not Victoria Beckham. Charlotte is still speaking but he doesn’t comprehend her words, too wrapped up in his own thoughts to comprehend but he hears what he couldn’t place before.
And it’s pity.
He shakes his head hard. “She and I agreed to steak and chicken,” he hears himself saying in a voice that isn’t his own.
“She had said the chef suggested lamb and duck,” Charlotte says, leaning over his shoulder again and the scent of mangos assails his senses. “Maybe they can do something…”
“Whatever,” Justin cuts her off, dropping the sheet to his desk and scowling at it. “I don’t care. Whatever she wants is fine.”
“Justin,” Charlotte says softly and there’s that pity again.
“No really,” he says, looking up at her and forcing a smile. “I still got my birthday right?” he jokes and Charlotte’s eyes widen just slightly before she looks away.
She makes a noncommittal noise in her throat as she walks back around to the front of his desk and he narrows his eyes at her. She refuses to look at him, hiding behind the dark curtain of her hair as she fumbles with her handbag.
“Charlie…” he says slowly, watching her carefully. “Charlie you look uncomfortable… like you don’t wanna tell me something…”
Her eyes finally meet his and she swallows hard, shifting from foot to foot. “Justin, now-”
His eyes widen suddenly and Charlotte curses the fact that he can read her like a book. “She didn’t…” he says, shaking his head. “She didn’t…”
“Don’t…don’t be upset,” Charlotte says slowly, putting her hands up and Justin can feel himself starting to boil.
“Charlotte my birthday is still toga right? It’s still at my place and we’re gonna have kegs and drinking games right?”
“Well, I-”
“Right?”
Charlotte looks at the floor and sighs. “It’s at 583, the theme is Black and White, and it’s champagne and wine bar,” she spits out quickly, cringing as Justin’s jaw clenches tight.
“God fucking dammit,” he grits out and his entire body is tight, trying to control the anger that simmers and broils in his veins. He rests his elbows on his desk, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes.
“I’m…I’m sorry I tried to stop her…” Charlotte says softly and there it is, that pity again
“I can’t do this,” Justin says his voice hollow, his breathing shallow.
Everything is different. Everything has changed. Even Charlotte’s damn shampoo has changed. He doesn’t even recognize his own life anymore. When the hell did this happen?
“Sure you can,” Charlotte says, her voice cheery and encouraging but he can still hear the pity. “I mean it’s gonna kinda suck but-”
“No,” he says slowly, pressing his hands against the desk top, his chest tightening. Is it hot in here? The melody in his head rages on. “No I-”
“Okay well I’ll make some calls and we can try and see what we can-”
“NO! Charlie!” he yells suddenly and Charlotte gasps, taking a small step back and melody snuffs itself out. “I can’t do this!”
He pushes back from his desk hard, his breath coming in short pants as he tears up out of his chair, barely noticing the look of complete shock on Charlotte’s face as she jumps at the sound of his desk chair banging against the bookcase behind him. Her eyes widen, scurrying out of the way as he rounds the desk, suddenly claustrophobic behind it and even in the open space of the room he still feels like he’s suffocating.
“Justin,” Charlotte says slowly, her eyes holding on him steadily.
His face is red and blotchy and he’s gulping in air in heavy breaths, his eyes wild. She takes a cautious step towards him and his brow furrows as he reaches up to pull at his tie, tugging it loose as he sucks in air the best he can. She’s never seen him this way and her heart pounds as he begins to pace.
“I can’t…what the hell am I doing?” he says his voice manic, running a hand through his hair and his curls spring in all directions. “This isn’t what I want.”
“We…we can fix it,” Charlotte says softly, taking another step towards him, eyeing the open office door apprehensively and he laughs, a bitter edge to it that causes her to pause.
“No, there’s no way this can be fixed,” Justin says and his pacing quickens, turning abruptly and taking a few short steps before turning again, running his hands over his face, the words falling out of his mouth before he even realizes what he’s saying. “Not my fucking birthday, not the wedding. Fuck especially not the wedding.”
Charlotte swallows hard, her eyes flicking from Justin’s manic face to the open door to his office. Felicity is gone but there’s no telling who could walk in at any moment. She bites her lip, wishing he wasn’t standing between her and the door. No one needs to see him like this and it’s her job to protect him. She moves to take a step forwards but Justin’s voice stops her.
“There’s no going back from this. No other way to do it. No, we’re a fucking power couple,” he spits and the venom in his voice makes Charlotte shiver. “No there are rules and we have to have this caterer and this dress and this location because of who we fucking are. This isn’t a goddamn wedding it’s a circus!”
“Justin,” Charlotte says again softly but he can’t stop, his pace quickening still and he’s dizzy from walking in circles but he can’t stop. He’s coming to something, he can feel it and there’s no way he can stop now.
“I don’t want this,” he says shaking his head. “It’s what she wants. It’s always what she wants. Don’t think I don’t know it, Charlie, I fucking know.” He chuckles humorlessly and then sighs, throwing his arms in the air. “When did I stop caring? When did I just start letting her walk all fucking over me? I mean she picks my clothes, my hair, my food. And when she doesn’t get her fucking way. She changes fucking everything! She didn’t like my party idea, she fucking changed it. She doesn’t like my hair long she fucking cuts off all of hers!!! Nothing is the same!” he yells, his hands flailing in front of him and he laughs again, bitter and angry. “What the fuck do I have now?”
Charlotte feels as if her heart is going to beat out of her chest as he looks at her, his eyes ablaze with anger. Anger at himself and at Amelia and at everyone who never told him this was happening. She wants to reach out to him, to touch his face and tell him…tell him something. He looks so lost.
“You have a lot,” Charlotte says softly, taking another short step towards him and he laughs.
“What, a big fancy penthouse over a hotel? A fucking white collar job?” he asks, flicking the collar of his dress shirt angrily and just when he thinks his chest can’t get any tighter, it constricts even more, stealing his breath. “Where’s the music, Charlie?”
Charlotte gasps bringing a hand to her chest at the misery in his voice and she swears her heart is breaking. The cool metal of her necklace presses against her palm and she remembers. For when you feel lost. She feels lost right now, not knowing what to say or how to help. She’d do anything for him in this moment, watching him grip the back of one of the leather chairs, leaning over it and breathing heavy, his face crumpled and weary.
“You asked me before,” he says, lifting his head his blue eyes meeting hers and she bites her lip at the fire in them, the anger. “You asked me why I gave up the music.” Charlotte blinks back at him, unsure as of what to say. “I gave it up because she told me to.” He chuckles at the confession, his chest lightening just slightly but constricting again as he processes the words. “I stopped recording because she said there were other things I could do, that I should expand my horizons, do different things. I stopped producing because she said it was too taxing; it kept me away too much. And I stopped writing because…because…” God it turned his stomach just to say the words. “because it annoyed her.”
He releases his head, letting it hang back as the freedom of saying all this aloud washes over him. He sighs suddenly feeling exhausted and weak, sidestepping the armchair to fall into it and he closes his eyes, willing it all to just go away.
“Okay…well…” Charlotte trails, swallowing hard as she tries to think. “First…um…lets close the door,” she says taking slow steps towards his office door and pushing it closed with a snap and Justin laughs bitterly.
“Yeah god forbid any of this get out,” he grits out, leaning his elbow on the arm of the chair and rubbing his forehead, his stomach in knots, his heart racing.
Charlotte steps over to him, her bottom lip pulled between her teeth as she lowers herself carefully onto the wooden coffee table in front of him. His eyes flick to hers, his hand pressed over his mouth and he sighs in frustration, closing his eyes and reaching up rub his face hard. When his blue eyes open again he looks so lost and helpless and Charlotte is at a loss for words, unable to even speak.
“You know ever since I was a little kid,” he says softly, reaching down to tug on his slacks and Charlotte bites her lip. “I wanted to get married in the little church in Millington where I grew up,” a small wistful smile pulls at his lips and Charlotte smiles too. “Or maybe…outside…at my parent’s place,” he says, his brow furrowing as he thinks, weighs, and tries to decide. He shakes his head and the light snuffs from his eyes as sadness creeps over his face. “But none of that matters…”
“Of course it matters!” Charlotte says earnestly, her hand reaching out to touch his face but thinks better of it, her hand falling to pat his knee instead. “Justin, you can’t do this if it’s not what you want.”
“Don’t you get it Charlie, I don’t have a choice,” he says earnestly, his blue eyes wide and Charlotte’s brow creases. “It’s…it’s hard to explain,” he chuckles. “You’re normal.”
“Normal?” she questions, coughing out a laugh and he nods, smiling softly.
“You don’t have to deal with the stuff she and I do. There’s all this pressure,” he breathes out heavy, like the air was sucked from his lungs and Charlotte gives his knee a gentle squeeze. “This is the way things are done with people like us. Her especially... her parents…”
“But it’s not what you want,” Charlotte says, her brow creased as she studies him slowly, uncomprehending. “Justin, this isn’t what marriage is supposed to be.”
He sighs, falling back against his chair and reaching up to rub his forehead, his eyes closing in frustration. She wants to tell him he’s more than this, more than just some guy on the arm of Amelia Domineck. She wants to tell him he deserves better than a fancy show and a lifetime of bowing down to Amelia’s every whim. She bites her lip hard, lest that thought slip out.
“Justin…marriage is about two people who love each other,” Charlotte says softly and Justin sighs, leaning forward, his elbows propped on his knees as he presses his hands together, pressing his mouth to his thumbs as he regards her pensively. “It’s not about the flowers and the food and all that bullshit. It’s about you promising your life to another person. Hell, it’s not even really about the wedding. That’s just one day. It’s about every day after that. For the rest of your life.”
Justin blinks at her slowly, marveling slightly at her words. He had been saying basically the exact same thing to Amelia since this entire wedding fiasco started. It wasn’t really about the day for him. It was about the rest of their lives together, which was part of the reason he let her do what she wanted with the ceremony. It didn’t really matter to him. All he wanted was the rest of his life with his girl. But what he was beginning to see now was that Amelia’s complete disregard for his preference, no matter how menial it was, didn’t bode well for their future together.
“What do I do?” he finds himself asking, his eyes meeting Charlotte’s and he just looks so lost.
The words “leave her” are right on the tip of Charlotte’s tongue, her heart hammering in her chest. Dare she say it? What would he even do? She wonders if he would violently oppose her suggestion or sit back in quiet contemplation of her words. She wonders if he would look at her and finally see her, really see her. She wonders if he feels that way about her at all. She wonders if she really wants to be that girl, the one that hopes for his relationship to go up in flames so she can swoop in and – her mind stutters – and what? She scolds herself silently. This isn’t a romance novel, Charlie get it together.
“Justin-”
“I love her, Charlotte,” he says, his voice thin and when her eyes meet his she can see the hurt in them, the fear, the aching want for Amelia to just be the girl she was, his girl. “I love her.”
He sighs, leaning back in his chair again, his face crumpled in sadness and Charlotte could easily say “leave her.” She could say “come with me,” “I won’t hurt you like she does,” “I would love you so much better than her.” She could say those things but the look on his face tells her that’s not what he wants to hear. The look on his face is enough to make her shove aside her selfish wants and her opinion that he could do better. She takes her hand off his knee.
“You need to tell her,” Charlotte says, her voice slightly hollow and Justin looks up at her, his eyes bright with hope, hope that she’ll give him some kind of answer. “You need to tell her how you feel.”
“She won’t listen to me-”
“You have to make her,” Charlotte spits, her heart breaking with every word and she can’t believe she’s saying this. “If you love her and want to make this work then you have to start making her listen to you. You have to make her understand that what you want is just as important as what she wants even if you think that certain things matter more to her than they do to you. If you want to write music. Write music, record, produce! Tell her how important it is to you, make her understand. You have to stand up for yourself and not let her walk all over you.”
Justin nods quietly, feeling that these things are easier said than done but he knows that Charlotte knows this too. The silence around them is deafening and Charlotte searches for something to fill it, anything to keep her from recanting everything she just said and saying what she really wants to say.
“You have to be…” she trails as he looks up at her. “You have to be the Justin from the business meeting a couple months ago. Remember? When you got that money for Kalaya’s album?” A smile tugs at Justin’s lips and he lets out a soft laugh, nodding quickly. “You were so strong in there! Like you knew what you wanted and what Kalaya needed and you wouldn’t take no for an answer. That’s what you need to be like.” Justin eyes her skeptically and she smirks slightly. “We need less Doormat Justin and more Business Meeting Justin.”
Justin laughs, the tightness in his chest leaving him finally and for the first time in what feels like forever he feels like he can breathe again. He knows that Charlotte is right. He’s gone too long coasting by and accepting things he thinks he can’t change. It’s time he stood up to Amelia. It’s time he took his life back.
He sighs suddenly exhausted. “How did this happen to me?” he asks with a chuckle, running his hands over his face.
Charlotte shrugs. “Sometimes you just get off track.” She looks down fingering her necklace and Justin smiles.
“You know,” he says slowly, shifting slightly in his chair. “I… um… you…”
She looks up at him, her green eyes bright and he’s momentarily stunned, caught in some well of emotion he doesn’t really understand. He shakes his head, blinking hard.
“You’re…you’re a good friend to me, Charlie,” he says softly and he watches her blush, looking down into her lap. “No really…I… There’s not a lot of people out there that I can trust and you… you’ve just been really good to me. I can always count on you to tell me the truth,” he says, searching for the right words but he’s dazed slightly as she looks up at him again. “I guess I just wanted to thank you.”
“Hey,” she says chuckling nervously as the guilt eats at her, “What are friends for?”
The words are bitter in her mouth and all she wants is to tell him the real truth. That Amelia isn’t right for him and despite all his greatest efforts she’ll probably never change. But she looks at him, sees the quiet happiness in his eyes, the determination and she knows he’s not ready to hear that yet. This is a revelation he’s going to have to have on his own.
“So,” she says, standing as she tucks her hair behind her ear. “I’ll…I’ll call Lynn when I get back to the office and see if she can fax me that list…for the wedding.”
“Yeah,” Justin says standing as well and they’re face to face, their bodies mere inches from each other. Charlotte gazes up at him from under long lashes and he marvels at how sometimes her beauty just smacks him in the face. “Um…I’ll…I’ll talk to Amelia about the party.”
“Are you sure?” Charlotte asks, her eyes searching his. “I mean…I can try and-”
“No,” he says, looking away and blinking, giving his head a short shake. “No, I need to do it. She’ll never really get it if I don’t. It’s the only way we’re gonna make it.”
He steps away from her, moving to go behind his desk again and Charlotte sighs, letting her eyes close and she wishes with everything that she is that she had just told him the truth.
Story Tags: fiancej desksex affair love hottubsex
