“Yeah. Probably checking to see if you’re still being a gentleman.”
Ben gave her one of his panty-melting smiles. “Am I?”
“Pffft. After what you did to me last night, you’re more of a knave.” She leaned down and kissed him, lingering until another knock sounded, this time a little louder. Charlie pulled away reluctantly and with an eyeroll. She got out of bed and threw on her robe.
“Wait in here,” she said quietly as she put her index finger to her lips. “Back soon.”
“Oh, I’ll be waiting.” He stretched his massive arms and put his hands behind his head as he leaned back against the headboard and Charlie damn near went back to bed, gossipy Mrs. Calhoun be damned.
I hope she didn’t see that Ben spent the night again. I’ll never hear the end of it.
There was a third polite but insistent knock when Charlie was halfway across the living room.
But of course she did.
“Coming, Mrs. Calhoun, coming.” Charlie tightened her robe around her as she turned the deadbolt, hoping Mrs. Calhoun had no concept of sex hair, and opened the door.
“Charlene, honey, look who I ran into in the lobby! He looked lost, so I asked him who he wanted and then I brought him straight up. Isn’t this nice?”
Mrs. Calhoun’s voice faded as a dull roar filled Charlie’s head. Standing behind her neighbor was Charlie’s father.
The man Charlie never wanted to see again. The man she’d avoided for over a decade.
“Charlene.” Her name came out of his mouth in a wheeze.
“What the hel—what are you doing here?” She tried not to hold anything against Mrs. Calhoun. How was she supposed to know that the last person Charlie ever—ever—wanted to see in this lifetime was the man who treated her like dog shit, like his own personal maid, and encouraged his sons to do the same.
“Sorry for the short notice?—”
“Trynonotice. How did you find me?”
Then she remembered the phone message from Joey. The hesitancy in his voice had been totally fake. He’d found her and ratted her out.
Mrs. Calhoun looked between the two of them like she was watching a tennis match, no doubt looking forward to spreading the gossip.
As her father literally pushed past her into the apartment, Mrs. Calhoun bought a clue and said, “I’ll let you two catch up. Too-da-loo.” She crossed the hallway to her apartment and disappeared inside.
Charlie didn’t close her door, but turned to the man who dared to call himself her father and said quietly, evenly, “Get the hell out, now.”
“Nice way to greet your old man. I brought you something.” He reached into his pocket, pulled out a bag of peanut M&Ms, and held it out to her at arm’s length.
She stared at him. “Are you serious?”
“They’re your favorite.”
“No, I hate the peanut ones. Get out.” She pointed back out into the hall.
He put them back in his pocket. “Charlene. Come on. I’ve come all this way. Just give your old man a minute.”
“No.”
“Not even one minute to catch his breath?” His voice had turned almost charming, but she wasn’t falling for it. She’dneverfall for it.
God, why today?Why, when she had Ben waiting in her bedroom, would her father darken her door?
Hide what you love.
Charlie dropped her head. The only way out was through. She prayed Ben had drifted back off to sleep and wasn’t listening at the bedroom door. She kept her voice low, hoping her father would, too.
