JACK HAD THE proposal all planned by the time he arrived in Charleston. First, he was going to take Charli to dinner at Poogan’s Porch. It was an old historic home converted into a restaurant that served famous Southern cuisine. White lights were strung on the porch railings and on the roof, which he knew Charli would find romantic, and there was a fireside table inside, just like at Hayden’s, which Jack had reserved. After their stomachs were full of fried green tomatoes, pan-seared jumbo scallops, and oysters, and they’d had a few glasses of red wine to wash it all down, he had a horse-drawn carriage scheduled to pick them up outside the restaurant. The carriage would drive them through the bustling city and down quaint cobblestone streets. And later, their driver would drop them at The Battery, a park surrounded by majestic antebellum homes and full of stately live oak trees, where Jack planned to pop the question. He couldn’t wait to explain to Charli underneath the gazebo in the middle of the grove that he’d given baseball up and that he was ready to call off the pact and start that forever they’d always talked about, right then.
Before he could do any of that, though, he had to let Charli know he was in town.
From her letters, he knew her typical Saturday routine. In the mornings, she got up early, grabbed coffee at the two-story Starbucks on King Street and then usually spent time in the library, studying. Around one, she took a break for lunch at one of three places—Colonial Lake, if she’d prepared food herself and it wasn’t raining, Bull Street Gourmet, if she wanted a quick and easy sandwich, or Fleet Landing, a restaurant on the harbor she sometimes dined at with her friends.
Since it was twelve-thirty by the time Jack had woken up, showered, and stopped by the local Harris Teeter grocery store to buy champagne and roses for the fancy hotel room he’d rented for them that night, he decided lunch would be the best time to catch her and planned to hit all three of her usual spots.
He’d stayed at a cheap motel the night before near the lake and Bull Street Gourmet, so he took off on foot for those two spots first. Within minutes he was scanning the faces of people at the lake who were sitting on benches in the brilliant sunshine, eating and chatting. Charli didn’t appear to be one of them, but he hung out under the shade of a sycamore tree for a few minutes just to make sure.
Every time he saw a twenty-something woman with brown hair join a group or walk past, his heart leapt. It hadn’t fully hit him that he was going to see Charli so soon until now.
When there was no sign of her by one-fifteen, he pulled out the directions to Bull Street Gourmet that the front desk receptionist at his motel had written down, and jogged over there. It was a small grocery-type deli with only a couple of tables in the middle and a few barstool chairs along the windows. There was no sign of her inside, just a few college-aged students in line placing orders and a couple of businessmen dressed in suits, sitting at a table scarfing down sandwiches.
Feeling a little panicked, but still hopeful, Jack found a main street and caught a biker taxi to drive him across town to Fleet Landing, the last place she might be.
He was dropped off at one-forty in front of a historical white concrete building perched over the marsh with a wraparound deck and oversized windows aimed right at the Charleston harbor. Tall sea grass shot up from the river, and a couple of people were leaning on the side deck railings talking with glasses of beer in their hands.
Jack tipped his driver and headed inside first, but there were only a couple of people in the heavily air-conditioned room sitting at the high bar looking out through the windows at the harbor. After confirming that Charli was not one of them, he walked back out and started around the side of the restaurant toward the back deck, where he could hear boisterous laughter and a clamor of voices.
As he rounded the corner, he paused to keep himself hidden, surveyed the area, and within seconds spotted Charli. She was at the table furthest from him, right up against the railing, underneath an orange umbrella. Jack took in the sight of her, and that was enough to set his heart racing. She had on a dress, and her hair was tied back loosely, a couple of strands blowing across her forehead in the easy breeze. Damn, she looked beautiful in that natural way that made her stand out from the rest of the women dining alfresco that afternoon. She had what looked to be a taco in her hands and brought it up to her lips to take a bite. A moment later she stole a glance at a tugboat tooting its horn as it drove by, and then she reached for her glass of iced tea and fixed her attention across the table on . . . a guy. A curly haired guy. Jack couldn’t see his face, but from the look on Charli’s face, she was certainly enjoying his company.
Taking a few steps back, he hid behind the side of the building and leaned up against it, gathering his thoughts.
What had he just walked in on? Not a date, right? Just a friendly lunch between two friends? His mom’s concern that Charli was seeing someone else couldn’t possibly have been right, could it have?
He closed his eyes for a brief second and told himself not to jump to any conclusions. He had no idea the nature of the lunch Charli was having, and until he did, he shouldn’t assume the worst.
Still, this was making him sweat. Thinking maybe he could get a better idea of what was really going on between the two of them if he spied for a moment longer, he peeked around the corner at their table again. For a second, as they continued to eat and talk, Jack convinced himself that it was just a casual lunch and that he had nothing to worry about. Probably just a study break, he told himself, before they regrouped to cram for a test together. But just as he was about to walk over toward them, the guy leaned across the table. And then, before Jack knew it, he’d tilted his head, and his lips were on Charli’s and her lips were on his.
Jack’s stomach dropped. No! Why? Shit! Tearing his attention away, he darted back around the side of the building.
He hadn’t just seen that, had he?
He shut his eyes, and the image of Charli and the curly haired guy kissing played back like an instant replay in his head. Fuck, he had.
Turning toward the wall, Jack punched it, scaring away the few customers who were leaning on the railing nearby and sending a blond, teenage waitress running inside, probably to get her manager. His hand started to throb and bleed at his knuckles, but he punched the wall again, preferring to feel the pain there than in his chest, which was suddenly heavy, swelling.
“Damn it!” he cursed and leaned up against the wall, feeling sick. Either he was going to throw up or the manager was going to come out and ask him to leave. One way or the other he was going to make a scene for everyone, including Charli to see, if he didn’t get out of there fast.
—
ONE MINUTE CHARLI had been talking about how delicious her fish tacos were and the next minute Christopher’s mouth was over hers, and his tongue was sliding along her front row of teeth.
Paralyzed with shock for a couple of seconds, she let him kiss her. But when she snapped out of it, she reached out, put her hand on his chest, and gave him a little shove. “What are you doing?” she asked him breathlessly. She brought her napkin up to her lips and blotted them with it.
“I was kissing you,” Christopher said. He was grinning like a teenage boy who’d finally gotten the nerve to ask his crush to dance at a junior high mixer in the disco-ball-lit gymnasium. “You felt something there, didn’t you?”
“What? No!” Charli reached for her glass of iced tea and finished it off, washing her mouth out.
Christopher’s face suddenly turned a deep shade of red. “Really? Nothing?”
“Nothing, Christopher,” she said, enunciating her words to drive her point home. It wasn’t the worst kiss in the world. And under a different set of circumstances, maybe she could have felt something for him. But not with how she was still feeling about Jack. And definitely not considering Jack had mentioned in his letters that his future with baseball was up in the air. Charli didn’t think he’d actually hang up his cleats for good, but there was no way she was going to get involved with someone else when she knew there was a chance Jack might be coming around soon.
Christopher’s face reddened even more, and he stared down at his plate of shrimp swimming in grits. “Man . . . I thought maybe if I just went for it, you’d realize that you and I had something. Maybe I should have asked you first, but you know how you can ruminate about things, Charli. I figured I’d just bypass that step and take a leap.” Then he laughed at himself slightly like he couldn’t believe he’d thought that. “I like you so much,” he confessed, looking up.
Charli softened, feeling sympathetic. She cared for Christopher and didn’t like seeing him upset. “I’m just not ready for anything new,” she explained, reaching across the table and resting her hand on his.
“What is it about your ex that’s got you so hung up on him? From what Rebecca’s told me, you two sound like such different people.”
“We are,” Charli said. Jack definitely didn’t tick the same way she and Christopher did, but that didn’t mean he didn’t understand her. They connected on a deeper level than their interests, and there was something inside her that burned for him. He was the one person who made her feel like she had returned home anytime she stepped into his arms. “I can’t help myself from loving him,” she said, feeling no need to give Christopher any more of an explanation.
Christopher just nodded, slipped his hand out from under hers and then squinted up at her in the sliver of sunlight that had slipped in under the umbrella.
“Thank you,” she said. “For understanding.”
“I’m trying my best,” Christopher said. He took a long drink of his iced tea and then apologized for making her uncomfortable.
“Don’t worry about it,” Charli assured him.
“So, can we just forget that ever happened? This won’t ruin our friendship?” Christopher asked.
Charli pretended to seal her lips and toss the key away. “I won’t tell anyone if you won’t.”
Christopher’s shoulders relaxed. “Thank you.” He cleared his throat and stirred his shrimp around a bit. Then, sitting up straighter in his chair, he said: “So, before that whole thing that didn’t just happen, happened . . . what was it you were saying?”
—
JACK PACED BACK and forth in his motel room staring at the phone cradled on the receiver on top of the coffee table. Maybe I should just call Charli. Tell her I’m here and what I saw. Ask for an explanation.
He’d been debating it for the last fifteen minutes. Part of him wanted to. But part of him was afraid of what she might say. “Yes, I’ve moved on. I’m sorry, I didn’t know how to tell you.”
Fuck it. I’ve got to. I’ve come all this way.
Taking a seat on the edge of the bed, he picked the phone up. After a deep breath, he punched in Charli’s number.
Ring.
Ring.
“Hello?” A man answered.
Had he dialed the wrong number? He must have. Jack was about to apologize when he heard Charli’s laugh in the background.
“Christopher, give me my phone!” she squealed.
Christopher . . . So the curly haired guy had a name.
Charli giggled again. “Christopher, come on. Hand it over! Who is it?”
“I don’t know—random number. Try to reach it.” Jack pictured Christopher dangling the phone above Charli’s head. His heart ached at the sound of their flirtatious banter. It was almost more painful than seeing the kiss.
“Christopher,” Charli laughed again.
“All right, all right,” Christopher said. “Here you go.” He must have passed the phone to Charli because the next thing Jack knew she was on the line.
“Hello?” she said. “Hello. I’m sorry. Who is this?”
Charli . . . Jack wanted to say something. It killed him not to. But what was there to say? Charli had clearly moved on. If the kiss hadn’t completely convinced him of that, this phone call had.
“Hello?” Charli said again. “Hello? Is anyone there?”
Jack pinched the bridge of his nose. Their timing was off again. Just like when they made the pact.
As the realization set in, he slammed the phone down.
“Damn it!” he screamed. Standing up he grabbed a pillow from the bed and pitched it across the room into the blinds. Then he reached into his pocket and took out the engagement ring. He sunk down onto the floor and stared at the diamond until the room started to grow dark. He’d fucking lost her . . .