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I’m a goddamn idiot.
“Come in,” I say. “It’s freezing.”
I know that from standing outside on the deck for the last fifteen minutes. Since Chari hates the cold, I open the door a little wider to show her the roaring fireplace in the corner of the downstairs living room. That might not be playing fair, but I’m desperate enough to use the resources available to me.
“I don’t understand. What are you doing here?”
She might not understand yet, but she follows me in anyway. When she stops at the entrance, I turn to look at her. Her cheeks are red, and I can’t see much of her bundled in a down coat and scarf. But she’s never looked more beautiful.
“Come warm up. I’ll explain.”
I hold out my arms for her coat. After a brief hesitation, she takes it off and gives it to me, revealing an outfit of skinny jeans and a chunky beige sweater. Chari’s eyes rest on the champagne stand next to the beautifully set wooden table just off a kitchenette.
She doesn’t move.
“Devon . . .”
“I asked him to get you here. I was afraid that if I asked you directly, you might say no.”
“Enzo”—my name on her lips sounds as sweet as it did that first night at the bar—“I’d never do that. We’ve known each other forever. We’ve been friends for years.”
I nod toward the fire, mostly because I’m still cold, and she follows.
“I don’t want to be your friend, Chari.”
Shit. That didn’t come out right. I’m usually slicker than this.
We’re standing by the fire now, close enough that I can smell her perfume. Vanilla and coconut. I want to skip to the part where she takes me back and lets me kiss her senseless. I want to slip my hands underneath that sweater and warm us both up more effectively than this fire can.
But we’re not there yet.
And if you fuck this up, maybe you won’t ever be.
“I screwed up.”
I asked my sister for advice, and she was very clear on one thing: be honest. The words fumble out of me with all the confidence of a teenage boy, but at least they’re true.
“I should have said so many things last week. But I honestly couldn’t see a way forward. Angel, Inc. is my life, has been for years.”
“And you were honest about that from the beginning.”
Chari’s so detached, it’s scaring me. It’s as if she’s already made her decision. And although I’ve talked myself into and out of hundreds of business deals, I’m scared shitless I won’t be able to change her mind.
“At the beginning I figured I could try to have it all. That I could work as hard as I’d been working and have you too. The reality of it was just . . . so much more difficult.”
She’s already shaking her head. “I’m not sure what all of this is”—she sweeps her hand around the room—“but nothing has changed. You’re still in New York, busy running an empire. I’m still here, wanting more than you’re able to give me. I’m sorry you thought for a second I wouldn’t see you. In some ways, you’re like family. My brother’s best friend. I’ll always have a soft spot for you. But . . .” She frowns.
This is not going well.
I want to reach out for her so badly, but Chari isn’t mine right now. And I have to respect that. But still . . . fuck, this is hard.
Tell her you’re committed, that you’ll find time to be together.
Tell her you love her and should have realized it sooner.
Tell her something, you idiot.
Be honest.
