And there he is. I haven’t laid eyes on my son in six months, and I might be imagining things, but he looks different, older. He has the same green eyes and tan skin, but that’s about all he inherited from me. The rest is his mother.
Sandy brown curls. High cheekbones and a wide smile, although I really haven’t seen that in a while.
“Hey,” I mumble like an idiot, opening the door wider to invite him in. He doesn’t move at first.
“I’m just here to get that check,” he replies. He’s keeping his eyes everywhere but on my face. There’s a slight shuffle of his feet and a nervousness in the way he shoves his hands into his pockets.
“Of course. Come in,” I say, moving out of the way.
He’s only one step into the foyer when he spots Charlotte in the office through the glass door. He hesitates, pausing for a moment as he stares at her. Sharp pangs of jealousy assault me. Because, of course, he can’t look away. Charlotte is the epitome of beauty, and although I wouldn’t have said it when she started working for me, she’s the epitome of sophistication now. In fact, she’s the best of both worlds. Somehow equally regal and fun. Demure and ridiculous, in the best way.
He takes a step toward her.
“Charlotte is an exceptional secretary. Smart and organized. I hope I never have to replace her.”
Pride bubbles up as I brag about her to him, and I see the moment his jaw clicks. He doesn’t like me talking about his girl as if I know her better, and I can’t say I blame him. But this jealousy is a two-way street because I feel it too.
“Come in and say hello,” I say, pressing a hand to his back.
When we reach my office, Charlotte stands up and greets Beau with a hug.
“It’s good to see you!” she says.
“Good to see you too. You look…”
She waits awkwardly for him to finish his sentence and I wish I could finish it for him.
Gorgeous.
Amazing.
Breathtaking.
Any of these would work, but he ends up using, “Different.”
There’s a tense smile on her face. “Good different, I hope.”
“Yeah, good different.”
“Can I get you something to drink? Coffee, soda, water?”
“Yeah, a Coke, please,” he replies, without taking his eyes off of her. And I can’t stop watching her, either, looking for a reaction to his presence. How does she really feel about him? Excited to see him? Eager to please? But no… Instead, she’s wearing a tight-lipped grin and looks entirely unnatural in his company.
“I’ll get it,” Charlotte replies eagerly, moving toward the kitchen. She’s trying to leave me and my son together, but he follows her instead of staying with me.
“You two catch up,” I say. “I just finished my workout and I need to go change out of these clothes and get cleaned up. Son, I’ll get you that check when I get back.”
“Sure,” he says to me, and I wish I could say it’s like there is no awkwardness between us, but there is. My son seems to have this idea in his head that by owning a sex club, I’m some sort of monster. Both a pervert and a criminal. There’s nothing I can do to change his mind or make him see differently, and it’s taken half a year of our relationship, but I refuse to believe it’s irreparable.
When I come back down about ten minutes later, I hear them talking in the front room. Stopping in the kitchen, I listen in.
“I feel like such a fuck-up,” he mumbles.
“You’re not a fuck-up,” she replies. “You’re going through a rough patch. You have to live with your mom for a while, so what. It’s not forever. You’ll get back on your feet and everything will be fine.”
The comforting sound of her voice makes me smile.
“I lost my job, my place, you…” His voice trails, and I feel the hairs on my neck rise.
And it dawns on me in that moment—Charlotte means something to Beau. Whether they broke up or not, she means something to him. And quite possibly, he means something to her. How could I get in the middle of that? How could I have even done the things I already have?
“You didn’t lose me,” she replies softly. “We’re still friends, Beau.” Her voice is so low, they sound close together. There’s silence, clothes rustling, movement on the couch, and I wish I could stop myself from listening now.
“Give me another chance,” he mumbles, and I can’t stop myself. Making my steps loud, I walk out of the kitchen, going straight to my desk. I’m not quite sure what I’m doing. Getting Charlotte back with Beau was what I wanted. It’s the whole reason I hired her. It’s what was going to make everything between me and Beau better, so why am I trying to stop it?