He’s staying at the bar. Yet another fail.
The street outside the restaurant was empty. They stood staring at each other in silence, uneasy and not sure how to end the conversation.
Charlie turned to Cora suddenly and pinned her against one of the cool marble slabs on the side of the building. He pushed himself up against her and brought his face close to hers. They stood glued to each other, Cora immobilized by the weight of Charlie’s body on hers, their lips just inches apart.
“We have a deal,” Cora whispered. “You said you weren’t going to kiss me.” But nothing mattered beside the pressure of his body and the proximity of his mouth to hers.
“I’m not... kissing you,” he answered, almost panting. His lips hovered just above hers. His hands moved to her hips, and he pulled her even closer to him. Cora’s arms hung limply at her sides in a halfhearted attempt to resist what was happening, her head all the way back against the marble. Charlie breathed on her, not moving but somehow bringing his lips closer to hers with each whiskey-tinged breath. She was desperate to cross the impasse, but couldn’t. Wouldn’t.
“Fuck your terms, Cora,” he finally growled and kissed her hard. She kissed him back, embracing him tightly and wrapping her leg around his so that she could feel his entire body against hers. They remained attached, kissing feverishly, until Cora pulled away.
“Oh my God,je veux te baiser,” she said, breathing heavily.
“What does that mean? Tell me it means what I think it means,” Charlie whispered, holding Cora’s face in his hands.
She shook her head and said nothing. A group of four approached the restaurant, a young couple and parents, and Cora moved away from Charlie, aware that they looked like they belonged outside a bar at closing time, not outside a restaurant before the sun had even set.
“I’ll see you at the gala, then,” she said, pushing her hair over her shoulder and smoothing down her shirt.
“Yup.” Charlie nodded and didn’t look at her. “I’ve got a car for the night, so we can swing by and pick you up. We’ll probably go to the City Tavern Club after. Do you have something to wear yet?”
Focusing on the conversation was difficult with her body lit on fire. “Yes. Well, no, not yet. I have one picked out, I just haven’t bought it yet.”
He narrowed his eyes at her. “I have to warn you, if you look any better than you do tonight, I’m going to have trouble keeping my hands off you.”
“But we have rules,” Cora said, her voice catching.
Charlie shrugged his shoulders, gave her a mischievous smile, and wordlessly walked back into the restaurant, leaving Cora alone on the sidewalk.
Fail.
THIRTY-THREE
The check engine light went on right as Cora turned into the Saks parking lot. She was finally picking up the Léger, and it seemed like fate was once again weighing in about what she was doing. She wondered if she’d regret spending so much on a dress when the car repair bill came in.
Darnell was waiting for her when she walked through the main doors in a haze of self-doubt.
“She didn’t come with you,” he said, crestfallen.
“I tried, believe me, I tried. Maggie’s really committed to her bed-in. All she does is watch TV and hang out with the dogs. When I told her I was coming to get the dress today, she said there was no way she’s ever setting foot around here again. She’s done with this place.”
“And me.” Darnell sighed, his typical enthusiasm dimmed by the hopelessness of the situation. “Did she tell you what happened?”
“Sort of. What’s your side?”
“It was a dumb Darnell joke that blew up in my face. You know I’m an idiot and I say shit without thinking. I’m absolutely sick about it, and she won’t answer my calls or text me back, so I can’t plead my case.”
“She’s stubborn, you know that. But you have to keep trying. She needs you in her life.”
“Oh, trust me, I’m not giving up on her. Darnell isnota quitter. Now on to you, boo. Is it time to incinerate your credit card?”
Cora nodded and grimaced.
“Well, I have a surprise for you.” He disappeared into the back room and returned with the gown slung over his shoulder. “Check this out.” He thrust the price tag at her so she could see it was covered in red hieroglyphics.
“Markdowns! I can’t read this, what does it cost?”
“I’m going to give you my employee discount, which is thirty percent off, plus the end-of-spring sale price, which is, like, rock bottom, because this dress is nowsolast season, and that brings the price down to ...” He paused again, working the numbers in his head. “A little under five hundred dollars. Much better, right?”
