A Winter's Vow (A Winter's Tale Series Book 3) Read online

  “Is that you Charli?” Adeline called from the foyer. Her voice sounded light, chipper, too chipper for it to be two in the morning, Charlotte thought, but then, Adeline had always been a bright seethe of sunshine, leaving laughter and cheerfulness in her wake regardless of the hour.

  Turning on the end table lamp just left of the couch, Charlotte answered, “Yes, who else would it be, Adie?”

  Nicholas laughed. “Uh-oh. She sounds upset.”

  Veiling her expression, Charlotte let out a quiet sigh of frustration. He was right, she was upset, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of knowing it. Nicholas took pleasure in the idea of getting a reaction out of her, and knowing that he possessed the ability to do so gave him instant gratification. “I’m not,” she lied.

  “You’re not?” Nicholas mused from the foyer, his tone infused with amusement. Removing his navy blue fitted Ralph Lauren overcoat, he made his way into the living room, his long legs closing the distance between them in no time.

  Charlotte gasped at his sudden closeness. He left no space between them. Exhaling, she parted her lips to speak, but the attempt was one made in vain. The effect he had on her was a crippling one. Get it together Charlotte, she chastised herself.

  “Really?” he smirked, unbelievingly. His silver eyes met hers in the dim room, luminous, watchful. “You sound upset,” he pressed, inhaling her every breath, her very essence into his being. Placing his hand at the arch of her back, Nicholas pulled her closer still− wanting no space between them, “I would hate for you to be mad at me over something so petty,” he whispered against her lips.

  Charlotte closed her eyes to the feel of his mouth on hers. He was everywhere all at once, consuming her with his presence. The feel of his hands, the touch of his lips, and the smell of his cologne, eucalyptus and warm vanilla filled her senses. “Well, I’m not,” she murmured.

  “Hey, uh, guys . . . I’m still here,” Adeline laughed uncomfortably from the living room entryway.

  “Sorry,” Charlotte apologized backing away from Nicholas. “I forgot you were there.”

  Adeline laughed again, “Ohh, I could tell,” she exclaimed, a bright smile highlighting her delicate features. “I thought you’d be asleep by now . . . where’s Marguerite?” she asked, scanning the room as she made her way over to her sister. Her golden gaze drifted from Charlotte to the blanketed covered couch, and back again. “Were you sleeping out here?” Adeline wondered aloud, puzzled.

  “I would hardly call it sleeping, but I’ve been−”

  “Where’s Marguerite?” Adeline heaved a sigh of sadness. “Did you put her out? Did you send her back to Baltimore? Charli, I know you don’t particularly like her right now, but it’s cold outside, and she’s preg−”

  “Adeline calm down. Marguerite is asleep in my room,” Charlotte explained. “I’m not a monster . . . I wouldn’t put her out in the streets, geez.”

  Smiling sweetly, Adeline shook her head in rejection to her sister’s words. “I know that you’re not a monster, silly. I just didn’t know where she was, or what you had done with her.”

  “What I had done with her?” Charlotte mulled over the words, amused. “What I would have liked to have done with the both of you is put you on the first mega bus scheduled out of Manhattan, but that was impossible because someone refused to answer their phone.” Her tone was accusatory, her expression unreadable.

  “I left my phone on my dresser at home,” Adeline said apologetically.

  “She’s talking about me, Adie,” Nicholas shrugged non-chalantly. Laughter clung to his words making light of the situation. “Dimple, I wanted to show Adie around Manhattan. You didn’t expect me to do that in an hour or two, did you?” he defended.

  “You could have answered your phone,” she argued, her frustration over the situation returning in rapid waves.

  “That would have been rude. What type of tour guide would I have been if I took personal calls while on duty?”

  Jerk! Jerk! Jerk! She screamed inwardly. “Adeline, pourriez-vous nous donner l'intimité s'il vous plaît?” Adeline, could you give us privacy, please?”

  “Sois gentil et dis-lui bonne nuit pour moi,” Adeline answered, quickly leaving the room. Be nice, and tell him goodnight for me.

  Nicholas regarded Charlotte carefully. “Are you seriously that pissed off?” he frowned, his grey eyes narrowing under her scrutiny.

  “Nicholas, Adie is seventeen. She has a curfew,” Charlotte explained.

  “Even when she’s with us? Vacationing with your siblings should be fun. In which case curfews set by parents are meant to be broken.”

  “Nick, she isn’t on vacation,” Charlotte huffed. “She is a runaway.”

  Nicholas laughed in- spite of Charlotte’s serious demeanor. “You’re making too big a deal out of this. You called your parents, right? They know where Adie and Marguerite are . . . everything is fine. Relax.”

  “You’re right. You’re right,” she muttered. “Still, Marguerite was ridiculous for sneaking Adie out of the house to come here. It was stupid.”

  “From what Adie tells me, Marguerite’s sole purpose for coming here was to talk to you, and she brought Adeline for support.”

  Charlotte snorted. “Whatever the reason. She’s an adult, and Adie isn’t. Marguerite needs to grow up. She’s carrying a baby for Pete’s sake . . . what if you weren’t here, and I went to the office after my run? They would have been in the hallway for God knows how long. She doesn’t think.”

  Nicholas shook his head understanding her aggravation. “It was nice of you to let her sleep in your bed.”

  “She’s pregnant. I couldn’t have her sleeping out here on the couch.”

  “Still, it was a sweet gesture.”

  “I didn’t do it for her. I did it for the baby.”

  Nicholas smiled at her stubbornness. “Regardless,” he said pulling her to him once more. “It was a nice thing for you to do nevertheless.”

  “I guess,” Charlotte shrugged, leaning into him. Resting her head against his chest Charlotte groaned. “I’m going to miss sleeping next to you tonight,” she confessed, looking up at him with sad eyes.

  Nicholas frowned. “You don’t want me to stay the night?”

  “Not with my sisters here, no,” Charlotte admitted.

  “You mean not with Marguerite here?” he corrected.

  Silence.

  “Dimple, you can’t be serious? You can trust me under the same roof with your sister . . . I would never touch her,” he grimaced at the thought. “I’m not Todd.”

  “I can’t help how I feel, and I’m not going to apologize for it,” Charlotte said softly, feeling distressed, and irritated by her insecurities. “I don’t feel comfortable with her being here in general, and with you here I just, I”

  Charlotte’s words were silenced by Nicholas’ mouth on hers. He kissed her gently, calmly, needing to feel her body against his, wanting to give her quiet reassurance that she was the only one he wanted, the only one he’d ever want. Backing away just slightly, Nicholas kissed her forehead. “I love you,” he reminded her. “It will always be you that I love.”

  Chapter Three

  Glancing at the glowing mantel clock that sat above her entertainment stand, Charlotte covered her eyes in frustration. 2:43a.m. Her once comfortable couch now mocked her with its lumps and unseen dips and dents. Wide awake, Charlotte laid there miserably on heaps of blankets tossing and turning and glancing at the silver antique clock that insisted on taunting her with its slow moving hands. Sighing aloud she reached above her head for her cell phone that sat silently on the end table just right of the couch.

  Charlotte: You’re probably asleep by now . . .

  I can’t sleep . . . I miss you, already.

  Nicholas: I miss you too.

  Charlotte: You’re awake? Why? What are you

  doing?

  Nicholas: Playing UNO on my phone, lol.

  I can’t sleep either I blame you! />
  Charlotte: How is it my fault??? lol

  Nicholas: I’ve stayed at your apartment since

  we’ve gotten back from the Hamptons . . . I

  don’t think I can sleep without you next to me

  now . . . I’m used to being next to you, smh . . .

  Charlotte: I know, it’s crazy. It’s only

  been 3 weeks since we’ve been back, but it feels

  like longer. I wish you could be here!

  Nicholas: I could be there if you trusted me . . .

  Charlotte: NICK! Stop it! I do trust you.

  I don’t trust my sister. Plus, we both can’t fit

  on my couch . . .it would have been

  uncomfortable.

  Nicholas: We could have slept on the floor,

  but it’s cool. I’m not upset, just tired.

  Charlotte: Me too. Try to get some sleep. I’ll be

  late coming in this morning. I want to make

  sure the two runaways get on the right bus

  back to Baltimore.

  Nicholas: Do you want me to drive them to the

  pick- up spot?

  Charlotte: No thanks. I want Adie to

  experience the infamous N.Y. subway and all

  its glory, lol

  Nicholas: lol, okay. Good night. I love you.

  Charlotte: Good night. I love you.

  Closing her eyes Charlotte opened her small hand allowing her phone to fall to the carpeted floor. For the first time since Nicholas had left a few hours before she felt contented. “Aish,” she sighed knowingly. I am irrefutably in love with him.

  Chapter Four

  Charlotte walked briskly through Gizzelle Bridal’s large lobby nodding her head at the receptionists who greeted her with their fake smiles and mocking “hellos.” With her briefcase in one hand, and warmed peppermint tea in the other, she made her way to the elevators. Glancing down at her watch, Charlotte scowled. She was later than what she had intended. “Come on,” she whispered aloud pushing the blinking elevator buttons simultaneously. “Come on.” Impatiently waiting for the elevator doors to open Charlotte stared at her reflection in the stainless steel. Considering her less than peaceful night’s sleep, and the drama filled morning her sisters caused with their attempts at trying to intentionally miss the mega bus back to Maryland, she had to admit that she looked rather good. Dressed in high waisted fitted black slacks and a peach lace off- the- shoulder crochet top, her confidence wasn’t lacking. Her shoulder length hair hung in loose waves framing her oval shaped face, and drawing attention to her long neck. She felt like she looked the part, what part, she wasn’t certain. Whether it be the part of a well- established magazine editor, the part of a professional business woman in her twenties living solo in Manhattan, or looking the part of a suitable fiancé to Nicholas Elliot, the son of a millionaire gone rogue to live a simple and less extravagant life as an Editor- in-Chief of a growing magazine company, she didn’t quite know. Glancing down at her all black peek-a – boo stilettos, a brief smile touched her mouth as words once spoken by her mother filled her mind, ‘A nice pair of shoes makes all the difference.’

  “Are you going up?” a voice came from inside the elevator. Charlotte jumped, her thoughts suddenly interrupted.

  “Yes,” she said, smiling up at the tall brown skinned man with short wavy hair. “Thank you for holding the door.”

  “You’re welcome. Nice shoes,” he grinned. “What floor?”

  “Third, please. Sorry. I didn’t mean to hold you up, I should have been paying attention.”

  “No worries.”

  “Have a good day,” Charlotte said when the doors opened. “Sorry again.”

  “Stop apologizing,” the stranger laughed. “Keep your head high.”

  “I’m sorry?” Charlotte furrowed her brows, confusion evident on her petite features.

  “You’re too pretty for your head to be bent toward the ground, nice shoes or not. Keep your head up.”

  “Okay,” Charlotte smiled sweetly, nodding her head at his words as the door closed between them, all the while wondering why she’d never seen him around the building before. He must be one of Fissicle’s employees.

  Hayward Fissicle, owner and CEO of Gizzelle Bridal magazine had bought Leisure Me Ready, a small retirement magazine that Nicholas had taken over a few years back after leaving his father’s cosmetics company, Plotus Cosmetics. After fighting long and hard to keep his magazine afloat, Nicholas had no choice but to sell to the highest bidder, Fissicle, who coincidentally happened to be his father’s old friend and business associate. Considering the relationship Fissicle shared with Nicholas’ father, he agreed to allow Nicholas’ employees to stay on board at Gizzelle Bridal, but not without a few members of his own staff transferring to the old Leisure Me Ready office space.

  The consistent click- clacking of her high heel shoes vibrated off the marbled ceramic floor creating an echo as she neared the closed conference room. Charlotte hated being late. She hated the idea of being the center of attention as she walked into the large room filled with colleagues who would undoubtably be wondering where she’d been, and why she was late, judging her the way Dean Proctor had judged her. Dean Proctor, former lead of the Financial Affairs department for Leisure Me Ready had been let go by Nicholas after he publicly disrespected Charlotte during a company meeting, and while she was grateful that she never had to lay eyes on the cruel man again, she wasn’t foolish enough to believe that the lies he’d told hadn’t already swayed others’ opinion of her. He was adamant in his belief that she and Nicholas had been having an affair, and that she was promoted from her position as a part-time temp to Senior Editor because of the sexual nature of their relationship. And while the man was wrong on every charge he held over Charlotte’s head, his defilement of her character had already been manifested. His false tales of sex and scandals had spread like wild fire and there was no undoing what had already been done.

  Standing outside of the conference room Charlotte inhaled deeply before letting go of her breath in slow remnants. Taking her time, she opened the large oak doors inwardly flinching at the clicking sound that grabbed the attention of her co-workers. With a well-practiced smile on her tan face, she nodded at her colleagues as she made her way around the large conference table to the empty seat beside Helen, a middle aged Asian woman who worked on the Advertising and Marketing team.

  “Ms. Toutant, please take the seat beside me,” Nicholas said. Standing, he pulled out the chair to the right of him.

  Charlotte met his gaze from across the room, her big brown eyes regarding him casually. “Okay,” she said, bypassing the unoccupied seat beside Helen she quickly walked to the front of the room to sit beside Nicholas.

  “That is, if you don’t mind.”

  “Not at all, Mr. Elliot,” Charlotte answered. “I apologize for my tardiness,” she spoke to the room. “Hopefully my lateness hasn’t inconvenienced anyone.” Turning her attention to Nicholas she asked, “What have I missed?”

  “A few announcements that I’ll fill you in on after the meeting, and Penelope was just about to begin her pitch for the new column in our spring release.”

  “Who?” Charlotte whispered to him.

  “Me,” said a thin woman with squared shoulders in large breasts. “I’m Penelope. Penelope Lawson.”

  Charlotte made eye contact with the other woman, her dark browns sizing up the red head with one swift glance. Her petite figure mirrored that of a playboy bunny, super thin with super perky boobs. Does she know that her boobs are spilling out of her shirt? Charlotte wondered. Forcing her lips to resemble what she hoped looked like a smile, Charlotte nodded at the woman urging her to continue.

  “As we all know, Spring is the beginning of wedding season, and year after year, wedding after wedding, brides complain about the same issue. And we all know what that is . . .”

  When no one spoke, Penelope huffed, “Oh, come on!” she laughed vigorously, her breasts bounci
ng rhythmically to her overdramatic cackle.

  Charlotte’s eyes widened at the sight, averting her gaze she stole a quick look at Nicholas who had been grossly interested in what Penelope had to say. Careful not to cause a scene she skillfully found his foot under the table and with a swift kick captured his attention.

  Nicholas’ jaw clenched. Glancing at Charlotte out of his peripheral vision he saw the look of discontentment that clouded her delicate features. Suppressing a smile, he reached for her hand under the table. Caressing her palm with his soft fingers he placed her hand on his leg, linking his fingers through hers.

  “The wedding dress!” Penelope shook her head feigning disappointment in her co- workers. “More and more women are having trouble when it comes to finding the perfect wedding dress that fits them ideally. My proposal is that we write a column geared toward the do’s and don’ts that women should commit to several weeks leading up to their wedding. The exercises they should do daily, the foods they should stay away from, overall holistic health tips that will have them in tip- top shape on their wedding day.”

  “And all the do’s and don’ts relate to the issue of women finding the perfect wedding dress, how?” Nicholas asked.

  Penelope giggled at him. “Well, Nick, the reason women are having such a hard time finding the perfect dress is because women are not necessarily in perfect shape. Women across the country are gaining weight, obesity is the highest it’s ever been; however, the ideal waist line is still the same. The dresses that most women want, they can’t fit into, and so this column will give them that extra push to lose those extra pounds, so that they’ll look their best on what’s supposed to be the best day of their life.”