Chasing Love: Chapter 11

Eric yanks my hand toward him so fast my body jerks forward, crashing into his.

“Oh-em-gee,” Eric screeches like a hyena on crack.

After I gain my composure, I allow him to examine the diamond ring adorning my finger, reminding me how surreal this all is.

“Charlie, this is a Harry Winston princess-cut diamond. I need a total replay. What were you wearing? What was he wearing? The speech… oh, did he get down on one knee?” Catching his breath he sits on the chair, crossing his legs in anticipation.

I replay the entire night to him and even re-enact the proposal part, getting down on one knee, which was interrupted when Nikki walks in. Her face falls slightly as if she thinks me accepting Julian’s proposal is a bad idea.

She sways her head, motioning Eric out of the room. “Charlie, I think we should talk about this.”

“Whatever it is, Nikki, it can be said in front of Eric.” I laugh as Eric shrugs his shoulders, laughing with me.

“Okay fine, have it your way. Don’t you think you should get to know him for a little bit longer rather than jump into marriage? I mean, what’s the rush? You’ve only been dating, what… three months?”

I saw this coming, of course. Most people’s reaction will be the same, but who are they to judge what the two of us have? I love him, that’s what matters. I don’t need to justify that, not to anyone. Funny, though, I have been putting off telling Mom and Dad, knowing their reaction will be exactly the same.

“C’mon, Nikki, you’ve met him. He’s a great guy.”

“Charlie, a great guy doesn’t mean you have to walk down the aisle with him. Just enjoy him… for now.”

“I love him,” I shoot back, defensively.

“I know, but is it enough?”

Her question rattles me. Eric sits wide-eyed at both of us like he’s watching some scene from The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills. Nikki stands there, arms folded, tapping her foot. Her usual glare, which normally has no effect on me whatsoever, intimidates me at this moment.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Look, Charlie, all I’m saying is that yes, Julian is a fantastic guy, but don’t you think you’re rushing into this? It’s almost like it’s just to move on…”

Stilling my movements, my expression doesn’t waver as she trails off. I know her interrogation of my actions is fueled by my resistance to settle down with any man before Julian. My past is unknown to her and everyone else, apart from Finn. Every so often, during a drunken rant, I’d spill information about teenage years, but whenever I was pushed I’d shut down immediately.

It’s my past, therefore, it should remain exactly that, in the past.

I’m not the same Charlotte Mason, that naïve high school girl so willing to give her heart only to be chewed up and spit out like a raw piece of meat. Things have changed, people change. Settling down at my age is quite common and not something to be shocked over.

“Eric, can I have a word with Nikki in private?”

With a mixture of disgust and hurt on his face, he walks out the door but stops at my desk to grab a handful of M&Ms I keep in a large glass jar. As the door closes, I focus my attention back on Nikki. “You’re the first one to say how picky I am, that I never give any guy a chance. So here I am giving this wonderful guy a chance, and you have the nerve to tell me that I’m making a mistake?”

“No, I simply asked why the rush. Are you knocked-up or something?”

“No!” I blurt out.

“Then, I don’t understand.”

“You don’t need to understand. All you need to do is be my friend. I love him, he loves me. Time means nothing when you know it’s right.”

“And is it?”

This back-and-forth arguing is no different than when we go to court. Nikki is playing lawyer, and I’m standing trial. I hesitate, trying to find the right words which will be good enough for her, so she will understand.

“You know what they say, ‘hesitation is a product of fear,’” she quotes.

“Or maybe I’m just trying to find the right words, so you’ll stop nagging me about this.”

Nikki’s arms fall limp as she sighs dejectedly, her shoulders slumping while she hangs her head and stares at the ground. After a moment of silence, she straightens her posture and meets my gaze. “Charlie, I’m not nagging. You’re my best friend. I only want the best for you. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be so judgmental. Now show me this damn ring. Oh, hang on a sec…” her lips curve upward into a sarcastic grin, “… do me a favor and open your door?”

I know without asking why she wants me to do that. Tiptoeing to my door, I open it quickly as a shocked Eric pummels to the floor with a paper cup.

As Nikki and I break into laughter, a somewhat disheveled Eric picks himself up, wiping his perfectly pressed outfit.

“Ladies, this is an Armani suit.”

“You need a glass, Eric, not a paper cup. Such a rookie mistake.”

I’m just about to leave my office to meet Julian for lunch when Eric barges in unnoticed, skipping to my table like a five-year-old girl. All he’s missing are the pigtails.

“Guess what? You’re so going to love me!” he squeals. “Thursday afternoon I have Carolina, a stylist, coming to your apartment.”

“Shut the front door! But why?”

“The charity ball, silly.”

“No way!” I stand, grabbing the tickets from his hand.

There are six tickets to the New York Annual Charity Ball to raise awareness for orphaned kids. These tickets are like gold dust. I’m speechless. All I can manage to mouth is the word how.

“Let’s just say Daddy owes me big time after he accidentally dropped Mom’s ten-carat Asscher-cut ring down the drain and made me go in head-down, ass-up to get it.”

Eric comes from a wealthy background. His parents are part of an elite family that goes back generations. Surprisingly, Eric wants to get a job and not work for his father. A few times we spoke about it, Eric mentioned his father’s crowd isn’t so welcoming of his homosexual lifestyle.

“Holy shit, E! Can Nikki get fitted as well?”

“Of course, but I want to be there when her boobs don’t fit in the dresses, and she starts cursing at Carolina.”

We both laugh at the thought. The girls are big, but there’s no one complaining but her. Rocky even has names for them—Dolly and Pamela.

“Is she bringing the Dolce & Gabbana fall line?”

“You betcha.” He winks.

“So, I’m going to ask Julian to be my plus one.” I glance at Eric, hoping he will understand.

“Honey, I’m just glad your lady garden is getting watered,” he utters, making circles with his fingers while pointing to my crotch. “Emma will be my date. We have it all planned out. We act like a couple, so we can walk around scouting out the potential. Then about halfway through, she splashes champagne on me and tells me that although I’m a fantastic lover with the biggest dick she’s ever seen, she is sick of my workaholic ways. It’s then we hope someone swoops in, patting me down, telling me I can do better than her. We start chatting, and before you know it, we’re picking out china patterns at Williams-Sonoma.”

“That’s some plan. What does Emma get out of this?” I ask, trying hard to contain my laughter.

“She gets to walk around with me, the fantastic lover.”

Poor Emma. I know all too well how Eric’s power of persuasion can get you in trouble.

It’s midday when I finally head down to that new Japanese restaurant around the corner. I enter through the revolving doors, spotting Julian immediately.

“Hey, gorgeous.” His face brightens as he leans in, kissing me softly on the lips. He smells so masculine. I’ve been meaning to ask him what he wears, so I can go to Bloomingdales with Eric and spray it all over myself like some deranged stalker.

“What, no cape?”

With a knowing smirk, he tilts his head doing that sexy thing with his eyes. I mean seriously, I’m imagining wild things involving capes, masks, belts—all in the bat cave.

“It’s at the dry cleaners,” he playfully responds.

Julian grabs my hand, leading us to a table he has reserved. He slides my jacket off my shoulders, grazing his hand down my arm. I can feel goosebumps forming. This man is going to be my husband. Despite my earlier argument with Nikki, I relish the thought of being his wife.

We browse the menu discussing our options before settling for the chef’s pick of the day. We chat about work, and I know I need to ask him to be my date for the charity ball on Saturday night, cutting it close.

The food finally arrives, and we devour each bite. Five-star rating from me. I don’t know how Eric picks it every time. His gaydar is spot-on when it comes to food and fashion.

There’s a moment of silence, my cue to get this over and done with. I’m so hesitant. Now, he’ll be attending this important event as my fiancé. Almost like he can sense my hesitation, he lifts my hand to his lips and kisses my engagement ring. I feel my body ease from just his sheer touch.

“I love this ring on you,” he murmurs.

“I love that you love this ring on me.”

Placing my hand down, he flashes his perfect smile before taking a bite of his food.

“So, there’s this thing on Saturday night. I’m wondering if maybe you might be interested in going with me? I know you’ve said you hate mingling with the elite unless it’s for a scoop—”

“The charity ball?” he asks, trying to keep a straight face.

“Um, yes, how did you know?”

“Eric already had me fitted for a suit. I was just waiting to see how long I’d have to wait before you asked.” He chuckles.

I grab my napkin, swatting him across the arm. “I can’t believe you! So, all this time I was nervous for nothing?” I laugh at my own stupidity.

“I’m sorry, it’s just that you looked so cute all nervous and jittery. I thought it was because of the ring.” He takes my hand, slowly kissing my knuckles. “Don’t worry, I got my punishment. Do you know Eric made me try on twenty suits yesterday? I’m not exaggerating. And he made me walk up and down the store, posing in what can only be described as Zoolander’s Blue Steel pose.”

I burst out laughing again. That’s so Eric. I have seen him do this to Rocky a thousand times. He channels his inner Tim Gunn. It’s hands-down, the funniest thing ever.

“Oh, Julian, I know… oh… this is hilarious. I’m so sorry,” I stumble out, unable to contain my laughter.

“Then he kept saying, ‘Make it work, people!’ By that point, I was like, ‘What people? It’s only me.’”

I’m on the verge of peeing my pants, and the funniest part is I remember how serious Eric is when he says it, standing there with his arms folded.

My head falls back, the ripple of laughter contagious between us. Julian is good at not taking himself too seriously, it’s another thing I love about him.

“You’re so beautiful when you laugh, Charlie. Make it five.”

“Five what?”

“Kids.”

This time, I relax. It doesn’t terrify me. This man is perfect and I want his babies, all five of them. Who cares what other people think about us moving too fast? When it is right, it’s right. Nothing will stand in our way, and I’m going to make damn sure it stays that way.

“Okay. Five,” I agree, raising my glass to take a sip of wine. “But you realize our sex life will be spurts of random quickies in silence? At least that’s what Nikki keeps telling me.”

His smile widens. He pulls me in and kisses me as much as you can kiss a person in a crowded restaurant without being asked to leave.

“I love you, Charlie Mason, mother of my future five children.”

A cold chill runs down my back—an odd feeling like when you know you’re being watched, or when you are watching ghost hunters and you’re trying not to shit your pants because you can feel a presence in the room. Calming myself down, I scan my surroundings. On my right is a couple arguing. I can tell it’s about another woman, the words ‘wandering cock’ are said loud enough the people behind me turn and look. I divert my eyes straight past Julian where some Japanese tourists are holding up sushi in chopsticks against the light, examining the rolls. It’s funny until an older lady looks at me, shaking her head in disappointment. Bored with them, I then gaze to my left.

With an incredulous stare, my posture suddenly stiffens, every muscle in my body turning rigid. My head begins to spin, cold sweats breaking out beneath my loose blouse. I blink my eyes, begging this hallucination to run its course.

But it doesn’t, and staring directly at me are those eyes, those emerald eyes.

This can’t be happening, not here, not now.

Suddenly, I begin to panic, my chest tightening as my breaths become quicker, suffocating my ability to come up for air. My stomach twists in knots, the urge to vomit lingering with everything else. This is a figment of my imagination. It has to be.

“Would you excuse me? I need to use the restroom.”

I get up from my chair so fast it almost topples over and walk straight to the restroom, avoiding eye contact with anyone by keeping my head bowed. I hear him call my name, and trying to ignore him, the adrenaline runs through me with every step I take.

Hands grasp around my arm, and that surge shocks me causing me to whimper slightly. Only his touch has ever made me feel this way, and against my better judgment I turn around to face my demon.

“I looked for you after you left,” he says, his voice haunting me as he speaks.

Is this him? His accent is virtually British, there’s only a slight hint of American. This doesn’t sound like him. Why would he have a British accent? I’m at a loss as to what to say. He looked for me? It’s not impossible to find me.

The fury is bubbling up inside of me like a raging storm ready to strike lightning into the sky. My cheeks burn, no doubt flushed as I struggle to hold back my emotions. I had imagined what this moment would be like a thousand times over, each time the speech became longer and longer. I want him to feel pain, to scar him like he did to me. I want to break him, but my tongue is tied. The words won’t form, and I blurt out the first thing which comes to mind. “Obviously, not hard enough!”

Alex narrows his eyes, confused, and almost speechless. I never thought in a million years our paths would cross again. Yet, here I am, angry and hurt, but most of all, trying to ignore how beautiful he still is.

He’s towering over me in a black suit, crisp white shirt, and a dark blue tie. His hair is just as I remember it, a bronze-tinted color though cut slightly shorter and slicked to the side. My gaze wanders to his perfectly sculpted face with a strong jawline, cleanly shaven, showing off his tanned skin. The emerald in his eyes sparkles as he continues to stare at me like he’s searching for something.

He wants to ‘talk,’ but there’s nothing left to say.

Words can’t erase what perhaps feels like lifetime filled with hurt and sorrow.

I deny what we were nine years ago because it’s easier this time to push him away.

For a moment, I think he’s changed as we speak, that maybe he has matured and grown past what we were. Maybe he just wants to say hello and be civil—that is until he mentions Julian.

Acting defensively, trying to protect my newfound relationship, I fire back at him with a barrage of hurtful comments.

I want him to feel the pain I have felt for years.

I want him to understand how much hurt he’s caused me.

And more than anything, I want to scream at him for everything he has put me through.

But instead, I say a simple goodbye and walk away.

My heart sinks as a wave of guilt washes over me.

It’s done, Charlie, I tell myself. It’s so done.

Clenching my jaw unknowingly, I quickly muster up a smile, trying my best not to show Julian how angry I am, but I’m completely shaken. I can barely walk back, let alone think about finishing my meal. I need to get out of here right now.

“Are you okay, gorgeous? You look a bit flushed.”

Julian pours some water into my glass, and suddenly my throat is very dry. I drink the entire glass of water, the feeling of nausea still churning in the pit of my stomach.

“I’m fine. I just nearly tripped over this lady’s handbag she had lying on the ground, but I recovered without too much embarrassment.” Inside my lie, I force a smile again. “Do you mind if we head out? I forgot I have a client meeting in an hour which I haven’t prepared for.”

“Of course not, gorgeous.”

I offer to pay the bill, but he refuses, typical guy thing, of course. We begin to walk away from the table, and for a split second, my eyes meet his.

Those eyes that haunt me in my sleep.

Those eyes I can’t escape no matter how hard I try.

Those eyes that stole my heart and never truly gave it back.

Those eyes which belong to the one and only Alexander Edwards.

Seeing him again takes me back to places I vowed never to return to, the pain I no longer allow myself to feel. Why does life want to throw a giant curveball when it’s just starting to feel right? I’m the person standing in the middle of the crowd, and the only one to get crapped on by a bird flying past.

That sums my life up in one neat package.

Yet, I can’t get out of my head the way he looks, the way he sounds, the way he smells. It’s all surreal like I’m sitting in the DeLorean from Back to the Future, transporting back nine years ago, and there I am again. There he is again. How did this happen? And just a day after Julian proposed to me?

All afternoon I find myself in a daze, unable to rid my mind of what happened earlier. I try to busy myself with work, but it’s futile. By four o’clock, Nikki barges into my office and knows straight away something is wrong.

“Okay, Spit it out. What’s wrong with you?”

“Nikki, something happened today,” I muffle out with my head buried in my hands. “I didn’t really want to mention it, but it’s eating me up inside.”

“What is it?”

I raise my head, taking a deep breath. “I ran into an ex while I was at lunch with Julian.”

“Sounds awkward.”

“Yes, it was, but it’s kind of more than that. I can’t really explain it. There’s a lot of history between us, and we ended on bad terms.”

“Wait, is this Alex?” she questions, trepidation in her tone.

“Yes… but how do you know his name?”

“Honey, I’ve known you for eight years. In that time, I could give you a list of guys you’ve been with, none of them I believe were anyone special. Except in college, all you would talk about in your sleep was this Alex guy. I knew there was something there, but I never asked. I figured if you wanted to talk about it, you would.”

“I didn’t know I did that,” I whisper, surprised. “It’s weird, I never in a million years expected to run into him. Now that I have, I have so many questions I need answered. I hate that it took me forever to move on, and now this wound has opened up again.

“Sounds to me like you need closure. Did you get his number?”

“No. It took me by surprise. I said some things, not nice things. I need to forget about this, right? In a city with this many people, what are the chances of running into him again?”

“I don’t know, a million to one. Charlie, you obviously have unresolved feelings. You can’t have a future with Julian if you don’t sort out your past.”

I understand what she’s trying to say, but I thought I had let go of the past. Nikki knows me too well.

Placing her arm around me, she reminds me of our fitting tomorrow night, taking my mind off today’s events for like one minute.

It’s so over between Alex and me.

Just like Nikki said—what are the chances of running into him again?

A million to one.