Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 45797 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 229(@200wpm)___ 183(@250wpm)___ 153(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45797 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 229(@200wpm)___ 183(@250wpm)___ 153(@300wpm)
“Savage, what are you doing here?” Charlotte asked.
“I came to see you.”
“Oh, is that because of what you heard?”
This made him freeze. “Heard?”
Charlotte winced. “I didn’t know if my dad had sent you, or ... I don’t know.” She let out a light laugh, but it sounded like it was verging on hysterics.
“I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about.”
She blew out a breath, and then stepped away from the door. “You might as well come in. I mean, you’re going to find out eventually.” Again, she let out a breath and shrugged. “Fine, fine, Friday night, I am going on a date.”
“A date?” he asked.
“Yes, my very first official date, and Mom is excited about it. Me, I’m terrified.”
“A date?” he asked again, and at the same time, he felt like someone had punched him right in the gut.
“Yeah, a date.”
“Who is the lucky guy?” Savage asked. So, I can go hurt him for even looking at you.
“It’s Andy Bernadette. Mrs. Bernadette’s grandson or son, I wasn’t quite sure which it was.”
“Isn’t he old?” Savage asked.
“He’s twenty-five years old,” she said. “So, no, not old.” She pressed her lips together. “I don’t even know how this all came about. I was with Maeve, and we were working on Bernadette, and she was showing me how best to work with mature skin, and then Andy comes in, bringing drinks, and before I know what is happening, he’s asking me out on a date. To dinner, Friday. I have never been on a date.” She laughed. “I haven’t had a boyfriend, or made out, or done any of those things I’m supposed to have done. What I’ve done is run.” She rubbed at her temple. “Sorry.”
“There’s no reason to be sorry. It’s a big deal.”
“Mom and Maeve had already told me how I’m going to dress, and I’m a little overwhelmed. I don’t know what to do,” Charlotte said.
Savage knew he should walk away, wish her a good time, and just let it be. It was good that she was going on a date. It got him off the hook. Charlotte wasn’t interested in a guy like him. He didn’t have to break his moral code to Doc. This was all good.
At least, that was what he kept trying to convince himself, but as he looked at Charlotte, she seemed terrified.
“Do you want me to follow you? Come to the restaurant, that kind of thing?” he asked. “Keep an eye on you? Perhaps give you a few pointers?”
“Would you?” Charlotte asked. “I know this is a lot to ask, but I don’t know what I’m doing, and you know me better than anyone.”
“Why don’t you show me what they have picked out for you. I know your mom, I’m sure she already has everything ready and prepared.”
Charlotte nodded, and within minutes, Savage hated himself, because he was in her bedroom. It wasn’t girly. There were no pink frills or anything that gave way to a young girl living here. She had cream walls, brown furniture, and there were a few splashes of pink, but nothing that would make him believe there was a child here. She didn’t even have a single picture in the bedroom. No family photos. Her space looked kind of blank. More like she was a visitor in her bedroom.
“You don’t have any photographs,” he said.
“Yeah, uh, after Jake, Mom stopped taking them, and it’s hard to look at the ones of us when we were younger. I don’t like them.”
There was a lot of pain, and Savage had a feeling she hadn’t truly dealt with the death of losing her brother, even though it was so long ago. Doc and Nancy were a lot to handle. They were good parents—better than most—but it seemed they didn’t see their daughter’s screams for help.
She opened her wardrobe, and there was a red dress, that he imagined was figure-hugging.
“This is what Mom picked out. She said it is about making a statement and when you go on a date, you make a statement.” She nibbled her lip. “What do you think?”
“Show me what else you’ve got.”
Her smile was right there, and she rummaged through her wardrobe and pulled out a couple of black dresses.
“No to the black,” he said.
“Come on, black is a good color on me.”
“It might be a good color, but you’re going on a date, not to a funeral.”
Charlotte laughed, and he had to wonder if she even considered this a date, or in fact a funeral.
“What happens on dates?” she asked. “Are there things that are expected of you? Maybe I should just cancel. That would be the easiest, right? I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t even know this guy, and I am about to go on a date with him. It is insane.” She giggled.