The day was longer than Charlotte could have envisioned, each hour feeling like several. Listening to Beth go on and on about Thomas Scalia had brought out mixed feelings, happiness for her friend and envy because she was alone, her future unsure.
But the day passed and Charlotte finally threw the ceremonial first pitch while her parents sat in the stands watching her. Together. She shook her head in amazement. Not that she held any illusions. Russell would be back in California by early next week. Alone this time, but maybe not for long.
Annie had agreed to meet with a therapist. Harrington had a wonderful mental health clinic and her mother had decided, with her father’s encouragement, to see a psychiatrist Dr. Fallon had recommended there. Meanwhile, her father had decided to tie up some loose ends in L.A. and come home for a while, at least long enough for Annie to begin therapy and see if she could wrap her mind around the possibility of moving west.
Would wonders never cease? Charlotte mused, happier and more hopeful about life than she’d been in a while. As if they knew, Charlotte’s Rockets beat the competition again, despite their star pitcher being out with a broken wrist and some other assorted player injuries. Though it was still early in the season, they’d designated Charlotte their good luck charm, going so far as to give her an honorary spaceship locket to hang on a chain around her neck in appreciation of her sponsorship and perfect attendance record so far. The gesture brought a lump to her throat and made her glad she hadn’t ditched the kids in favor of her personal life.
“What personal life?” she asked aloud as she let herself back into her apartment, the night over at last.
The joke seemed to be on her. Even her mother had a private life, whereas right now Charlotte had none. But once she saw Rick and got information on Roman, she’d be on her way—to what, she didn’t know, but at least she’d be taking positive steps forward.
* * *
Charlotte dropped her keys on the kitchen table and listened to her cell phone message. “Hi, Charlotte. It’s me, Rick. I got hung up in Albany and then was called out on a case as soon as I hit town again. We have to talk, so sit tight.”
As if she had anywhere else to go. Not tired and still wound up from the game, she headed into the kitchen and dug through the freezer for the pint of vanilla butterscotch ice cream she kept stashed in the back. Spoon in hand, she decided she’d hang out in her bedroom. Ever since splurging on a television for nights in bed, she found she enjoyed lounging in her room better than hanging out alone in the living area of the small apartment. With luck, she’d find something on television to kill more time until Rick finally arrived.
She approached her room, scarfing spoonfuls of ice cream on the way. The dim lighting from the doorway took her by surprise. She didn’t remember leaving her bedside lamp on when she’d left for work this morning. She shrugged, then entered her private sanctuary at the same time she licked sticky butterscotch off her lips.
“I could help you do that. If you’re willing to talk to me.”
Charlotte halted in her tracks. Her heart stopped beating for a second before beginning again, more erratic and quickly than before. “Roman?” Stupid question. Of course that deep, husky voice belonged to Roman.
And it was Roman, sexily lounging in gray sweats, a navy T-shirt, and bare feet on her frilly white bedspread and assorted pillows. Only a man of his stature and build could look even more masculine when leaning into feminine frills and eyelets. Only a woman in love could want to toss caution out the window and run into his arms.
She let out a frustrated puff of air. She’d missed him and was desperately glad to see him, but they had issues that remained unsettled. And until they’d discussed those problems and came to an understanding that fulfilled them both, too much remained uncertain between them. Though at this moment Charlotte felt like she could live solely on love and the air he breathed, she was smarter than that.
At least she hoped she was. Because her resolve to wait was crumbling quickly.
Roman forced himself to remain calm and relaxed. Hard to do when cushioned in Charlotte’s soft bed and surrounded by her feminine scent, a scent he’d missed while he’d been gone. And even harder to do with her staring at him, a mixture of longing and wariness in her gorgeous green eyes.
He’d gotten into town, and with everyone at dinner or the Little League game, he’d remained undetected, which was good, since he’d counted on the element of surprise.