Seconds later, they were gone and the silence that followed pressed down on me, heavy and familiar. I sat back on the couch, staring at the spot where Gregory had been sitting.
Typical.Invited when he needs a decoration, dismissed when I’m not needed.
Dad hadn’t even realized I was home. Trying my best to take it in stride, I pulled out my phone, my thumb hovering over the calendar reminder Stella had created at lunch.
Coffee with Tony. Tomorrow, 10:00 a.m.
When she’d first mentioned this, I’d been dead set against actually going, but maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Especially if Tony turned out to be a normal guy for a change.
Someone who didn’t talk about himself like he was reading from a résumé.
Someone who might actually see me and not think I was a joke for volunteering.
Someone who would look at me and see Lottie, not Charlotte Westwood, and might actually like what he saw. That was all I wanted, for someone to look at me and want whatIhad to offer, Westwood fortune and name be damned.
CHAPTER 8
TRENT
Igot to the coffee shop a little early, still trying to figure out if I was doing the right thing, but at least the place Stella had told me to be at actually existed. It wasn’t some abandoned lot or a murder house.
Instead, it was a cozy little shop with sun streaming through tall windows, overflowing bookshelves against the walls, and knitting needles with wool in baskets next to some couches set up in the corner. The scent of espresso and pastries hung thick in the air, the low hum of chatter interspersed with the clicking of the needles as some people knitted while waiting for their orders.
I scanned the room, not really sure who I was supposed to be looking for. Everyone inside was paired up, chatting quietly over their drinks or scrolling on laptops if they weren’t knitting. Nobody seemed particularly interesting, and no one waved at me or even looked up as if they might be looking for someone too.
Great. She’s not here yet.After grabbing a coffee, I took a seat near the door and then waited. And waited. And waited some more.
A tall blonde walked in, her hair bouncing as she moved. I straightened instinctively, thinking maybe that was my cue, but she drifted toward a group by the window and disappeared into their conversation.
I sighed, drained the last of my coffee, and thought it over for a beat before I decided to give up. This whole blind date thing had been a bad idea, and obviously, the girl wasn’t even going to show, so ultimately, it was a complete waste of time.
Standing up, I dropped some cash on the table and left, a bell tinkling cheerfully above my head as I walked out. When I stepped onto the sidewalk, however, hurried movement caught my eye and I turned my head to see Charlotte racing down the sidewalk.
Alex’s sister, Charlotte.ThatCharlotte.
She was hurrying down the street toward me, her rich brown hair slightly disheveled, her cheeks pink, and her shoulders tense. She stopped when she saw me, her eyes scanning left and right as if she was plotting a getaway.
My eyebrows lifted. She looked flustered for some reason and I reckoned that if Alex had run into Sadie looking like that, he’d at least have made sure that she was okay, but I still approached slowly, my hands in my pockets and my voice cautious.
She hadn’t seemed too keen on me the other night. “Hey.”
As if she’d only just realized I was right in front of her now, she jumped slightly at the sound of my voice, then blinked up at me with those deep blue eyes. “What… what are you doing here? At my coffee shop?”
I squinted. “Yours?”
She waved a hand, definitely flustered and clearly mortified by her choice of words. “No! I just mean it’s just my favorite. I don’t own it or—” Cutting herself off with a frustrated sigh, she gave her head a sharp shake. “I can’t really stop and chat. I’m supposed to be meeting someone.”
I tilted my head. “I was supposed to meet someone too, but they didn’t show up.”
She frowned at me when I gave her a half-smile, trying to seem casual, but I was intrigued. Flustered like this and away from her family, little Charlotte Westwood didn’t look so little anymore. Instead, she looked like a wildflower caught in the first rays of the rising sun.
Really, really pretty.
Dark brown hair piled messily on top of her head, steely blue eyes, tall and lean in jeans and a tank top with sneakers on her feet. Her outfit was a far cry from the designer dresses and heels I’d seen her wear recently.
Her eyes narrowed on mine. Then they widened like she’d just remembered something that made her growl under her breath.A trait she shares with her brother, evidently.
Without another word, she shook her head again and practically sprinted past me into the coffee shop. I watched her through the glass for a beat before I followed her back inside. She moved straight to the counter and ordered her coffee. I stepped up right behind her and did the same.
