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

She had been exceedingly grateful for everyone’s help. Lia—on vacation because the kindergarten was closed for summer—had proven invaluable with the admin, while Daff had helped with leaflets and marketing. George had done so much driving for her, his daughter, Nina—an interior designer—had helped with the office décor, despite being just a few weeks shy of giving birth. Amos had insisted on helping with physical tasks that involved way too much manual labor. Not wanting the old man to hurt himself, Charity had instead given him her exact design layout plans, and had tasked him with ensuring the movers got everything in the right positions.

And Greyson’s wife, Olivia, had kindly offered to cater tonight’s party at a discounted rate.

Coming back to Riversend—home—had been the right thing to do. Her family fully supported her. And once she was fully settled and found a larger place to live…they would visit often.

Everything was going phenomenally well.

Except for one thing…

She dug into her skirt pocket for her phone and checked the screen.

Still no messages.

She hadn’t heard from Miles in five days. No texts, calls, not even the occasional picture of Stormy. She had grown so used to hearing from him every day for the last six weeks, that his sudden silence filled her with dread.

“Hey, stop mooning over your phone and pay attention to your guests!” Faith, ever the drill sergeant, commanded her. Charity grimaced and guiltily slipped her phone back into her pocket.

Her sister slid an arm around her shoulder and gave her a squeeze, before handing her a glass of bubbly.

“That’s better. This is your moment, sis! Enjoy it.”

“I am,” Charity said. “I just…”

She lifted a shoulder, not wanting to admit she hadn’t heard from Miles in a while. Her sister hadn’t been too impressed with the strange, chaste cyber relationship they had cultivated.

“And what are you and Miles discussing this evening? How many laps you swam in the community pool last night? Stormy’s latest encounter with the French poodle in the park?” The questions were steeped in sarcasm, and Charity narrowed her eyes at her sister.

“Stormy’s reaction to the poodle was cute,” she responded defensively, and Faith rolled her eyes.

“You guys have been tiptoeing around each other for weeks. Start sexting, for God’s sake.”

“Shut up! We’re doing fine.”

Only, they weren’t.

Faith threw her head back to glare at the ceiling for a second before levelling her gaze at Charity.

“Charity, at this rate, you’re going to text yourself right into the friend zone. Does he even know that you want him back? Or does he think that this weird, impersonal texting friendship is all you have to offer?”

The question made Charity pause. Was that what was happening? Did he think they were just friends? That this was all there was?

“Charity,” Faith began. Her tentative voice immediately put Charity on the alert. Her sister was only tentative when she was getting ready to lay a painful home truth on someone. “The longer you delay having a proper conversation about your feelings with him, the harder it will be. And before you know it, all you’ll have is a casual, amicable, but ultimately impersonal, friendship. The periods between your messages will grow longer and longer, until you’ll be lucky to remember exchanging Christmas or birthday wishes.”

“God, that’s depressing. When did you get so fricking gloomy?” Charity’s voice was teasing while everything inside her was withering up and dying. Faith was right. It was already happening. Five days without contact spoke for itself.

“It’s the sad reality. You’re setting yourself up to fail, sis.”

She blinked into her drink, trying to force the blurriness from her gaze. Not wanting anyone else to see the tears shimmering in her eyes. But Faith swore vehemently, and her arm slid around Charity’s shoulders again to give her another squeeze.

“I’m sorry. Ignore me,” she apologized quietly. “I just want you to be happy. But that was a douchey thing to say. You’ve been so brave these last few months, Charity. That’s why it frustrates m

e to watch you lose your nerve in this. When it matters so much to you.”

“I haven’t lost my nerve,” Charity denied. Even though she knew that some part of her was terrified of telling Miles the truth about how she felt. “I was just trying a different approach.”

Faith smiled but did not look entirely convinced. Thankfully she chose not to pursue the topic, instead complimenting the spectacular food Olivia ‘Libby’ Chapman had provided for the modest event.

Charity took her cue from her sister and determinedly pushed Miles and his lack of communication from her mind for the remainder of the evening. And while it wasn’t easy, she managed to go the next few hours without looking at her phone.