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

“You have me.”

It was a promise. An oath. An utterly unbreakable vow.

She had him. And she would always have him. Now and forever.

When Charity and Miles reached the hotel foyer, it was to find her parents and Faith already waiting at reception.

“Where’s Stuart?” Charity asked, confused by her brother-in-law’s absence.

“He’s staying with Gracie. We don’t have a ‘sitter here. And I’d rather not have a stranger watching my child. He told me to tell you he’d see you at breakfast."

“So, it’s just us?”

“Sandra and Paul couldn’t stay. She wasn’t feeling very well,” her mother explained, with a sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry. I’m sure you were looking forward to spending some time with them as well.”

Charity bit the inside of her cheek to prevent herself from responding, and she felt the back of Mile’s hand lightly brush against hers. The touch was so delicate she was sure no one present noticed. But she noticed…and she sucked in a grateful breath at that silent show of support.

“What’s the plan?” Charity asked, with a forced smile.

“Dad’s made a reservation at a fabulous restaurant on the neighboring estate,” Faith said. “The one here is very nice, but we wanted a quieter venue, so that we could talk and catch up in relative peace.”

“Great. Can Miles and I bum a lift with someone? His rental car is only being delivered in the morning.”

“We can all fit into Daddy’s showboat of an SUV,” Faith piped up. “I don’t know why anyone needs a massive vehicle like that.”

“The only way to safely transport my golf clubs,” their father quipped. When their tiny mother jabbed him in his ribs, he winced and added, “And my lovely wife, of course.”

Their parents were a sickeningly cute couple. Both were surgeons—their mother cardiothoracic and their father neuro—and yet they were polar opposites in so many ways. Their mother was five foot one, and their father six foot three. He was pale, blond and hazel-eyed. She had a rich brown complexion, a shade or so darker than Charity’s skin, midnight black hair and sultry eyes. He was slender and muscular. She was comfortably curvy.

He was loud and jovial. She was quiet and contemplative. He made stupid dad jokes, and she rarely got them.

They balanced each other perfectly.

Charity had never seen two people more in love. And Faith appeared to have found a similar relationship with Stuart. Charity had dreamed of having the same with Blaine…perhaps that’s why it had been so hard to accept or admit what was happening at first. Because this was her template, and she had tried to force the abomination of a marriage she’d had with Blaine into this same mold.

Only it would never fit…the jagged edges of that relationship had been too ugly and too sharp and had ripped her fragile mold apart.

Her father enfolded her mother in an affectionate embrace and kissed the top of her head.

“Come on, kids,” their father invited, leading the way. “To the dadmobile.”

“Oh my God, Daddy. Do you have to be so lame in front of a guest?” Faith complained as they all filed out after the older couple. Charity laughed, enjoying the moment. Knowing that all too soon, there would be only confusion and pain.

Her hand drifted into Miles’s…as she silently sought the unwavering support that she knew was right there for the taking. His palm kissed hers, and their fingers meshed.

For now, this would do.

The evening was filled with small talk, reminiscences, laughter, and sentimentality. Miles enjoyed watching the lighthearted byplay between the older Coles and their daughters. This interaction between father and kids was not something he’d had plenty of opportunity to observe firsthand, and he found himself envious of that affectionate bond. He had lost his dad at an age when he had needed him most.

His mother had tried her best, bless her. His first shave had been with a pink woman’s razor and floral scented shaving gel. The horrifically vague “birds and bees” talk after his first wet dream. The awkward condom discussion had involved a cucumber and a lot of accidentally torn condoms. If nothing else, he had learned that condoms were most certainly not infallible.

They were all cringe-y, but fond memories…but he occasionally wondered how life would have been with an adult male influence in his life.

As the evening progressed, Charity grew more and more distant. The others were starting to pick up on it, and Miles noticed Rita and Erik exchange a few concerned glances.

“I’ve decided that I’m moving back to the Cape after Miles returns to London.” Charity blurted out over dessert and coffee. Her words effectively silenced all the slightly desperate banter that had been darting back and forth between Faith and the older Coles.

“That’s wonderful, darling. We’ve all missed you so much.” Rita squeezed Charity’s arm, seemingly oblivious to her tension. Miles wasn’t sure if they were just ignoring it and trying to pretend that everything was fine. Or if they genuinely could not tell how stressed Charity was.