I frowned. “An employee stole from you?”
He slowly turned around. “Not an employee. The co-owner. My fiancé. My partner, who was also my business partner.”
Pure shock filled me. “Your fiancé stole from you?”
“Over the course of two years, he embezzled roughly fifty thousand dollars, and I had no idea until it all came crashing down.”
Holy shit. What an absolute monster thing to do to the man he was going to marry. “You must’ve been devastated.”
Charles didn’t look at me as he grabbed a pan, then rummaged in the fridge. “I’m gonna make an omelet. You want one too?”
“Sure. Thanks.”
I found a spot at the breakfast table, watching him.
“I was the creative behind our coffee shop. He was the business guy who handled all our supplies, contracts, and finances. I made the food and worked on the floor ten hours a day, six days a week. He spent an hour or so in the back office, then hung around for another two and left for his other job.”
“He had another job?”
Charles nodded. “He was a sales rep for a medical supplies company…and he was good at it. Smooth talker but not too slick or glib. Everybody liked him, wanted to be his friend. So when he told suppliers he couldn’t pay the bills and needed a little more time, they believed him. Everyone did, and he pocketed the money we were making himself, using it to pay for his very expensive gambling habit.”
I cringed. “And you had no idea?”
He shook his head, expertly cutting mushrooms into small slices. “I was too tired to wonder where all the money went. The shop did great, you know? I thought we were building something special, both the shop and our life together. Turned out, I was wrong about both.”
What an unbelievable dick. To do that to your business partner was bad enough, but to your fiancé? That was so low I didn’t even have words. “You know, the downside to this job is that I’m constantly confronted with the worst of humanity. And yet, I can still be shocked by what people can do to each other, especially those they claim to love.”
For the first time in several minutes, Charles lifted his gaze from the cutting board and met my eyes directly. The sadness etched across his face hit me like a physical blow—not the sharp kind of grief that comes with fresh loss, but the deep, weary kind that had settled into his bones and made itself at home. His blue eyes, usually so bright and full of life, looked dulled, like someone had drained all the color from them and left behind only shadows.
The sadness on his face made me absolutely furious in a way that surprised me with its intensity. My hands clenched involuntarily, and I had to actively resist the urge to put my fist through something—preferably his ex-fiancé’s smug face. I wanted to hunt down the son of a bitch who’d done this to him, who’d taken this sweet, generous man and trampled all over his trust and heart like it meant nothing. I wanted to make him pay for every moment of pain he’d caused, for every sleepless night Charles had probably spent wondering what he’d done wrong, for every bit of self-doubt that bastard had planted in his mind.
The violence of my reaction should’ve worried me. In all my centuries of protecting people, I’d felt professional anger at those who threatened my charges, but this was something else entirely. This was personal, primal, and completely inappropriate for a guardian angel who was supposed to maintain professional distance.
“I would think you’d see far worse in your job than embezzlement, but thank you for saying that.”
It took a second for me to realize the “job” he was referring to was that of an NYPD detective. I hadn’t meant that one, but thank El he hadn’t realized. “Still, it’s the deliberate way people can hurt each other that never fails to get me.”
Charles slid two perfect omelets onto plates, then finished them off with a sprinkle of parsley. The omelet folded perfectly, golden on the outside and cooked with the kind of skill that only came from years of practice and genuine love for the craft. “Bon appétit.”
My stomach rumbled in response. “That looks delicious. Thank you.”
I shoveled a generous forkful into my mouth and nearly groaned out loud at the explosion of flavor that hit my taste buds. The eggs were impossibly rich and creamy, so perfectly fluffy they practically melted on my tongue like savory clouds. The cheese—something sharp and nutty, maybe Gruyère—had melted into silky ribbons throughout while the bell peppers still had just the right amount of bite, not mushy like most people made them, but tender with a subtle crunch that added texture and a sweet, smoky flavor. Every ingredient was perfectly balanced, seasoned with the right amount of salt and fresh herbs.
“This is amazing,” I said.
“Thank you.”
Christ, the man could cook. If this was what he could dowith basic breakfast ingredients, no wonder his coffee shop had been successful before that bastard ruined everything.
For a little while, we ate, and then I asked, “Was he ever convicted? Your fiancé?”
Charles shook his head. “It was his company, too, and we didn’t have any contracts outlining the roles we had. I talked to a lawyer, but she said it would be a long shot, and an expensive one. So the business went under, and I sold everything in the shop to pay off as many creditors as I could.”
“So he basically got away with it?” Anger rose in me all over again.
“He did, though he did lose his other job. I informed his boss of what he’d done and showed him enough proof to convince him I was telling the truth. So he fired Justin, who then moved away, leaving me to deal with all the fallout.”
“What’s his full name?”
