The Best Next Thing ((Un)Professionally Yours 1)

“Not for much longer,” Charity promised grimly.

“Chari—”

The door to the restroom swung inward, and Faith and one of their cousins stepped inside. The two women were laughing, but the laughter froze when they sensed the tension in the room.

Faith eyed them warily. “Is everything okay?”

“Excuse me, I have to find Paul.” Sandra said, and hastened past the two women. Faith watched her leave while Melly, their cousin, ducked into one of the stalls.

“What’s up?” Faith asked, her voice hushed so that Melly wouldn’t hear them. “I know coming back here must be so painful, and it has to dredge up bittersweet memories. I hope you’re not finding it all too overwhelming.”

“No. Not in the way you’re thinking. I’m so happy to see everyone again. We have to have a family discussion tonight, after Gracie has settled down for the night. I have a lot to tell you.”

“Anything to do with that lovely man who brought you here today? I confess, after seeing the way he looks at you, I was rather hoping you were moving on from the past. I know how much you loved Blaine…but it’s time for…”

“Let me stop you right there, sis,” Charity interrupted her quietly. “Miles has been good to me. And we’ve grown close during his convalescence, but what I have to tell you has nothing to do with him. He and I soon will part as friends…” She ignored the painful jab in the vicinity of her heart as she uttered those surprisingly difficult words and continued on. “And that will be the end of it. As for Blaine…I haven’t felt anything close to love for him in a very long time.”

“I don’t understand.”

Charity grabbed her sister’s hand and squeezed it.

“Enjoy the party. I’ll explain later, okay?” Faith nodded, and Charity drew her into a fierce, tight hug. “I’m so happy to be here.”

As far as Miles could tell, the party was a (literal) screaming success. After the last excited little guests departed, Faith and Stuart ushered Gracie to their room for a bath and Charity’s parents, Erik and Rita, once again profusely thanked Miles for bringing Charity to the party, before heading to their suite to freshen up before dinner.

That left Charity and Miles standing in the foyer of the hotel.

“Faith told me that you’ve arranged a room for us,” Charity said, her voice cold and curt. He tried not to be disheartened by all that ice and nodded.

“We’re in one of the cottages. It has two bedrooms. I wasn’t sure if you wanted your family to know about…about us. And I wasn’t sure how you would feel after what I did.”

She sighed heavily. “Let’s go. I need a long, hot shower. We’ll discuss this when we get to the cottage.”

Miles showered and changed for dinner, but he wondered if he should fry himself an egg—he could only get the self-catered cottage at such short notice—and give Charity and her family privacy to have their long overdue talk.

After he and Charity had reached the cottage, she had barely given the quaint abode a second glance, instead heading straight to her room…telling him that they would “talk later”. They shared a bathroom, and he had allowed her first dibs at the shower, before spending a torturous fifteen minutes in a steamy bathroom that smelled just like her.

Now, nearly half an hour after her promise to talk, he sat on the side of his massive bed and stared at the bedside clock, watching the minutes creep by, and wondering when later would be.

Fuck. This was ridiculous.

He picked up his phone to send Charity a text: I think I’ll stay in tonight.

Why?

Figured you all should have some privacy.

The staccato rap on his bedroom door startled him, and he frowned.

“Come.”

The door swung inward, and Charity stepped into his room, a wry smile on her lips.

“What’s funny?” he asked, perplexed by that unexpected grin.

“For nearly two years, whenever you ordered me, or anyone else, to ‘come’, I’d imagine you saying it in the exact same clipped way to your lovers.”

He couldn’t quite figure out what she meant and stared at her in bewilderment.