A Winter's Promise (A Winter's Tale Series Book 2) Read online

  A brief smile softened Nicholas’ expression at the sight of her, his eyes met hers from across the room− his silver gaze was magnetic, effortlessly pulling her into him, into his molten pool where she was held captive. Charlotte paused under his watchful stare remaining silent as he ended the call. There was something about the way he had looked at her that caused her stomach to do flips. “Do you need something?” Nicholas asked, placing the phone on the receiver.

  “Should I need something to be welcomed into your office?” Charlotte frowned. Walking over to the chair that sat diagonal to his desk she kept her eyes on him as she took a seat. “I thought you had an open door policy?” she asked mockingly, crossing her legs in front of her. Charlotte’s intention hadn’t been to start an argument; however, her patience for his shenanigans was beginning to wear thin.

  Nicholas cleared his throat. “Charlotte, what can I do for you?” he responded, resting his elbows on his desk.

  So, I’m Charlotte now? She mused. Licking her lips, Charlotte glanced at him sideways, her expression suddenly serious. “What’s going on with you?” she demanded, her big brown eyes regarding him suspiciously.

  “What do you mean.”

  “Do we need to replay the same conversation from this morning? You’ve been ignoring me, and I don’t understand why.”

  “I’ve been busy.”

  “Right, busy. Too busy to answer my calls, and too busy to act like I exist . . . .”

  Laughing, Nicholas rubbed his long fingers through his thick beard. “Someone is being a bit over dramatic,” he said, a faint smirk on his lips.

  “I’m serious,” she sighed, narrowing her eyes at him. “I haven’t heard from you since Christmas.”

  Standing, Nicholas made his way around his desk to sit in the chair adjacent to hers. “What have I done that’s so wrong?” he questioned, regarding her closely.

  “Since when do you call me Charlotte?” she argued, uncrossing her legs and leaning toward him. “And when are you ever too busy to talk to me?”

  “If I can recall correctly you were the one who insisted that I call you by your name at work?” Nicholas argued.

  “Yes, but─”

  “And if my memory serves me correctly I believe you were the one who demanded that I treat you like everyone else while we’re at the work place?”

  “Nicholas, I didn’t ask you to ignore me.”

  “I’m not ignoring you.”

  “Are you going to tell me what’s wrong, or are you going to force me to sit here and listen as you blatantly lie to my face?

  “I have a lot of work to do,” Nicholas answered as he rose to his feet. Standing in front of Charlotte, he cleared his throat, his bright greys never leaving her chestnut browns. “So, if there’s nothing else?”

  “Thank you for your honesty, Nicholas, it means the world to me,” Charlotte said sarcastically, a weak smile etched deeply on her face. Biting her lip, she turned away from him, fumbling as she rose from her seat and quickly made her way to the door.

  Nicholas flinched at her words but remained silent as he watched her walk out of his office. Roughly combing his fingers through his thick hair, he groaned aloud. Foolishly he’d thought that getting through the day without having to answer for his sudden disappearing act would be an easy feat, but that couldn’t have been further from reality. Of course, Charlotte had noticed the little changes in his attitude toward her over the past few days . . . she was the observant type. To go from conversing several times a day to no communication at all− it was a leap, but in his defense, Nicholas felt that he had no other choice in the matter. His feelings for her were beginning to consume him. She was his first thought when he opened his eyes in the morning, and his last thought when he closed them at night. And for the life in him he couldn’t shake the overwhelming desire to pull her into his arms and make love to her the way no other man could, the way no other man ever would. Shutting his mind off to the thought Nicholas brusquely rubbed the base of his neck in utter frustration. Avoiding Charlotte had been hard on him, and although it was the last thing he ever wanted to do− it felt necessary. If they were going to continue their friendship he had to find a way to get back in the mindset of being her best friend, and the last time he checked best friends didn’t fantasize about having soul shattering sex with one another. Space, he thought to himself. “How in the hell is that going to happen when we leave for the Hamptons tomorrow?” Nicholas wondered aloud. Pretending to be Charlotte’s fiancé in front of her family wasn’t that difficult a feat, but things had clearly changed since then, the dynamic of their relationship for one. While he clearly had feelings for Charlotte prior to going to Maryland it wasn’t until after their trip that he had realized how deep those feelings went. It wasn’t until after he had held her in his arms, felt her soft lips against his, and the warmth of her sex against his hand that he truly understood his desperate need to be the man in her life. Baltimore had revealed many things to him including her unresolved feelings for her ex, feelings that she hadn’t denied when he made the accusation that she was still in love with the other man. And so, regardless of the feelings he had felt for her, of the love he wanted to embrace her in, regardless of the fact that he knew that she was the only woman who would ever have his heart in the palm of her hands, he refused to knowingly put himself in the position of being her rebound, of being second best. His pride would never allow it. Stacking the files in front of him, Nicholas grabbed his grey blazer from the back of his chair and headed for the door. There was no way he was going to get any more work done for the day, and if he was going to successfully put on the façade that he and Charlotte were engaged and the perfect happy couple he needed time to gather his thoughts, alone, and in the solace of his own company.

  Chapter Four

  Lying in bed Charlotte brushed her jet black feathered hair away from her face. Resting her weight on her elbows she picked up her phone wanting nothing more than to turn down the voices in her head. With quick fingers she scrolled through her contacts, biting her lip as she pressed the call button hoping that her pride wouldn’t be crushed for the third time that day.

  “Hello,” Nicholas answered, his voice low.

  “Hey. Were you asleep?”

  “Close to it. What’s going on?” he asked.

  Charlotte inhaled deeply. “I just wanted to know the plans for tomorrow,” she lied. “What time do you plan on picking me up?”

  “Around noon.”

  “Okay.”

  Silence.

  “Is that all you wanted?” he laughed, his tone casual.

  “No,” Charlotte sighed.

  “No?”

  “Nicholas?”

  “Yes?” he answered.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered into the phone not knowing what else to say. “For whatever it is that I’ve done to piss you off, I’m sorry.”

  Nicholas was quiet for a moment and then letting out an exasperated groan he said, “Dimple, what are you apologizing for? You haven’t done anything wrong.”

  “If I haven’t done anything wrong why are you treating me like I have? It’s like . . . it’s like . . . you don’t want anything to do with me, like you want out of our friendship. If it’s because of what happened on Christmas Eve─”

  “You haven’t done anything wrong,” he repeated. “I just have a lot on my mind, that’s all. We’re fine.”

  Silence.

  “Fine,” Charlotte answered after a while, ending the call without saying anything more. Tossing her phone to the other side of the bed, she turned over to bury her face into the array of throw pillows that lined her headboard. Infuriation spreading through her body like a wildfire. Not one, not two, but three attempts had been made on her part to try and figure out the problem that was obviously causing a drift between them. If he isn’t willing to tell me what the problem is . . . how am I supposed to fix it? Better yet why isn’t he willing to fix it with me? Rolling onto her back Charlotte stared at the
ceiling. He said that I didn’t do anything wrong, but if that’s really the case why is he treating me like a leper? She wondered. She hated feeling like she couldn’t talk to him about her feelings . . . like she couldn’t tell him how much he had meant to her out of fear of being rejected for the second time. Closing her eyes to the thought, Charlotte prayed that sleep would find her sooner than later, her mind needed a reprieve.

  Chapter Five

  Charlotte woke to the sound of her phone vibrating on the edge of her bed. Reaching for the device she squinted at the screen trying to see through half open lids.

  “Good morning, mom,” she mumbled still half asleep.

  “Charlotte, wake up! It’s late,” Babet Toutant chastised. “Muffy is expecting for the two of you to arrive before noon.”

  “Who’s Muffy?” Charlotte huffed, snuggling further under the covers.

  “For Pete’s sake Charli it’s your soon to be mother- in- law. You don’t even know the woman’s name?”

  “I thought her name was Meredith?”

  “To strangers, perhaps.”

  “Oh. Well, mom I’m really tired so I’m going to let you go. I’ll call you when I wake up.”

  “Have you packed your bags?”

  Charlotte exhaled loudly into the phone. “No, mother, I have not packed my bags. I’ll do it as soon as I get up.”

  “If your mother- in- law is expecting you by noon don’t you think you should make every effort to arrive at that time if not an hour or so earlier? How far is the Hamptons from Manhattan anyway?” Babet grilled, refusing to let up her position.

  “I don’t know, but I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

  “Shouldn’t you find out? Charlotte, I raised you better than that. Show some courtesy toward the woman who birthed the man you’re about to marry,” Babet advised. “Muffy can’t wait to meet you . . . that’s all she talks about. So, get your lazy hind parts out of bed and pack your things. Wear something that says I’m a good, decent woman who will look after your son. Don’t take any loud perfumes, and pack light make- up. Oh, and for God’s sake don’t put on that red lipstick you’re so quick to spread across your lips, it makes you look like a harlot,” Babet rambled.

  Charlotte took in her mother’s words nodding her head as if the woman was standing in front of her. “Are you finished?” she asked when Babet stopped speaking.

  “Make sure you pack a dress or two, Muffy says that there’s going to be a New Year’s Eve party at a neighbor’s house. Apparently, the party is a pretty big deal so don’t embarrass Nicholas with one of your less than flattering throw- on’s.”

  “No red lipstick, a nice dress, arrive on time . . . anything else?” she asked, making every effort to not allow her annoyance at her mother’s overbearing ways to show through the phone.

  “For now, if I think of anything else I’ll call you back.”

  “Of course, you will.”

  “Be polite, Charli.”

  Charlotte sighed. “Talk to you later, mom.”

  “Oh, and Charli, I love you.”

  Charlotte contemplated if she should mention the letter that her mother had snuck into her purse before she had left Maryland, but quickly decided against it. It wasn’t the sort of conversation she thought should take place over the phone. To find out that her mother had been diagnosed with Multiple sclerosis through the form of a letter hidden in her purse was beyond her understanding. While there had been an obvious drift between them after finding out that Babet had known about her sister’s betrayal, Charlotte still expected more from her mother especially when it came to something as serious as illness. “I love you, too, mom,” she replied, shaking her head at her mother’s difficult nature. Nothing was ever easy with Babet, everything had to be a challenge. Still, the woman was her mother, the only mother she would ever have, and regardless of how frustrated she had made Charlotte, or how angry, what it all bottomed down to was that simple understanding, Babet was her mother. Anger and frustration were emotions that would be forgotten overtime, but having the knowledge that her mother was ill, and not being willing to make amends . . . that would haunt her indefinitely. “Take care of yourself,” Charlotte sighed, pulling the covers away from her already shivering body. “I’ll see you in a few days.”

  ***

  Charlotte yanked at the hangers in her closet, skimming over one piece of clothing after another. Stopping at the only black dress that she owned she pulled it from the wooden hanger and tossed it onto her bed. It was the typical little black dress, short, cleavage revealing with a low back− perfect for a night out on the town, not so much for dinner with her future in- laws, still she needed options and that would be one of them. Reaching for her red Hollow- out Chest Peplum dress she drew her bottom lip into her mouth. Perfect party dress, but if red lips make me look like a harlot what would this dress make me look like? She wondered. Shrugging her thin shoulders Charlotte threw the dress onto the bed, also. “I need options,” she said decidedly. Hurrying across her room she neatly folded her clothes, blushing when she put her sheer laced nighty and matching panties into her suitcase. Taking lingerie seemed like a total waste of space since there would be no real reason for her to wear it, after all Nicholas had made it very clear that he wasn’t interested in the least, still, she put the flimsy pieces of clothing into her bag along with a few scarfs, three sweaters, two pairs of jeans, and several pairs of underwear. Touching each item Charlotte crossed off her mental checklist several times, careful not to forget anything.

  ***

  The sudden banging outside of her apartment door caused Charlotte to jump. “Who is it?” she yelled from the living room, turning off the television as she reached for her pea coat that lay neatly across the arm of her leather couch. She knew that it was no one other than Nicholas; nevertheless, she waited for an answer before making her way to the door.

  “Who do you think it is?” he called from the outside, tempted to use his key.

  Charlotte grinned. “Coming!” she answered, grabbing her suitcase in one hand, and the ribbon wrapped bottle of wine in the other. Opening the door Charlotte greeted him with her best award winning smile, an air that would hold fast for the duration of their trip, regardless of how much the change in his behavior had hurt her− she refused to make it apparent.

  “What’s that?” Nicholas asked, nodding his head at the bottle in her hand while reaching for her suitcase.

  “Wine. It’s for your parents.”

  “My father’s a recovering alcoholic.”

  Oh crap! I knew that! Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! “Sorry. I should have remembered that . . . it’s just that I didn’t want to show up empty handed,” she explained feeling idiotic.

  “Well the rest of us can enjoy it,” he shrugged. Looking down at her left hand, he asked, “Where’s the ring?”

  “In my suitcase. I’ll put it on before we get to your parents.”

  “Oh.”

  “Should I put it on now?” Charlotte asked, sensing his sudden irritation.

  “Do whatever you want. This is your lie, not mine,” he answered, dryly. Pulling Charlotte toward him, Nicholas quickly kissed the top of her head before turning for the stairs. “Hurry up,” he said already walking away from her. “I don’t want to be stuck in traffic.”

  “Good morning to you, too,” Charlotte grumbled under her breath as she made her way out of her apartment. Taking her time, she locked the door, turning the knob this way and that with a sigh on her lips. It’s going to be a long couple of days.

  Chapter Six

  The silence that stretched on between them in the confinement of Nicholas’ Chrysler was deafening− an hour in the car together and barely any words spoken. Pulling her lip into her mouth Charlotte readjusted her weight in the passenger seat unbuckling her seatbelt as she turned to her left, angling her body to face his. “Nicholas,” Charlotte spoke his name softly, a plea on her thin lips.

  “Hm?” he returned, his attention focused solely on the
white lines that painted the road ahead of them.

  “How are we going to play this thing out?” she asked, her eyes fixed on him.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Do we stick to the same story that we told my parents? Do we embellish? We should have a plan, right?”

  “My parents aren’t like yours,” he answered nonchalantly.

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “Your mom and dad are involved with the affairs of you and your siblings. Mine aren’t. They aren’t going to ask how we met, when I proposed, or even how I proposed. After meeting you they’ll feel that they’ve done their parental duty, and that will be the end of it.”

  Charlotte blinked at him through long lashes. “My mother has been talking to your mom for the past week, and from what I hear Muffy seems to be very interested in our engagement.”

  Nicholas glanced over at her. “Is that so?” he muttered, seemingly unconvinced.

  “According to my mother.”

  “Muffy is quite the actress. I wouldn’t hold anything that woman says to any value.”

  “Well she appears to be interested. Maybe she really wants to be involved.”

  Nicholas laughed at her. “Well then, won’t she be quite discontented when she gets the news that the engagement is off. When did you say we should call off the wedding? February?”

  “Nicholas, if that’s what’s bothering you . . . the thought of lying to your parents because of me─”