Charlotte nodded. “Good.” She wondered briefly if she should offer up some thanks for Brighton’s care last night, but then that would indicate she remembered the care, and that would lead nowhere good.
Complete oblivion was best.
For both of them.
She popped her last bite of bagel into her mouth—the food actually was doing wonders for her stomach—and dabbed thecrumbs away with her napkin. She was feeling good—decent, at least.
In control.
She cleared her throat and stood up, knowing that she needed to say one more thing to Brighton to wrap up the conversation, something casual and breezy.
Except when she moved her confident gaze to Brighton’s, Brighton was already looking at her with her eyes slightly narrowed. Had Charlotte been less in control of herself, she would have startled at Brighton’s piercing expression.
The kind of expression she used to use on Charlotte all the time, usually followed by a bevy of questions about Charlotte’sfeelings.
Well, that sure as hell wasn’t going to happen right now. Or ever, for that matter.
“What do you have planned this morning before we leave?” Charlotte asked, keeping her tone light.
Brighton pursed her mouth. “Oh, I don’t know. But I had an idea to run by you.”
“Oh?”
Brighton nodded, leaned forward with her elbows on the table. “If you’re open to it, I was thinking we could room together at Briar Lodge. The cabins are small—made for two people, Adele said—and I think it might be good for us. You know, formoving on.” She stretched out the words like taffy.
Charlotte smiled without showing her teeth, perfectly controlled, but her mind was whirling, panicking, imagining being in a tiny cabin in the snowy woods with Brighton overnight.
Still,nowasn’t an option here.Nomeant she remembered last night.Nomeant she was affected.Nomeant she couldn’t handle Brighton Fairbrook so close.
“Of course,” she said. “That’ll be…fun.”
“Fun,” Brighton said, her eyes still fixed on Charlotte.
Fuck, she needed a minute—many minutes, a whole week to prepare for this one night. “Yes, fun.” She picked up her plate and escaped to the kitchen.
“You okay?” Sloane asked. She was scrubbing the egg pan while Adele loaded the dishwasher. Nina sat on a barstool smiling down at her phone. “Need more Tylenol?”
“I’m okay,” Charlotte said, pausing to squeeze Sloane’s shoulder. She wanted to slow down, talk to her friend, ask her all the questions about Wes she’d thought of yesterday at Speed Date and Decorate, but her hands were shaking, her brain so overstimulated that she couldn’t get the words in the right order. “I’ll be right back.”
She made her way upstairs and closed herself in the bathroom. She pressed her back against the door, let her breath go shaky, let tears swell into her eyes.
Just for a few seconds.
One…two…three…
I miss you.
She squeezed her eyes closed, wiped her face clean. She could do this. She could do anything. She’d survived neglect and abandonment and made herself a fucking star in the classical-music world. She could spend one night in a little cabin with Brighton Fairbrook.
She smoothed her hair back, stepped up to the mirror. She reapplied her lipstick like armor, then rolled her shoulders back and lifted her chin, preparing for battle.
Chapter 18
Charlotte Donovan was full ofshit.
Brighton had known it from the second Charlotte walked into the dining room with that immovable smile on her face—Anna Donovan’s daughter was in control. Not Charlotte, and certainly not Lola.
She glanced at Charlotte as Nina’s SUV, which the group had borrowed for the trip to Greenbriar Ridge, came to a stop in front of a huge log cabin–style lodge. They all piled out of the car, oohing and aahing at the beautiful building. Snow fell steadily from the sky, blending with the silver strands in Charlotte’s hair. She had been drunk last night.Plastered, in fact. It was naive for Brighton to take her confessions as truths—or, at least, as truths that would be discussed easily in the sober light of morning. Still, Charlotte was lying her poised ass off when she said she didn’t remember the night at all.
