Char snorted and shook her head. “So, this list. Let’s get it over with.”
Abrupt subject change, but fine. Jake pulled out a new piece of paper. “Okay, we have to be careful with this one. The last one was lost in a tragic paper shredder accident. I had to steal Grandma’s backup while she was sleeping last night.”
“Wow, you’re a regular 007.”
“The woman sleeps like the dead.”
“So it was easy?”
“She has a gun under her pillow and has never taken a shooting lesson in her life—easy?” Jake shuddered. “Not if you want to keep all your parts.”
“Fair enough.”
Jake cleared his throat. “It looks like we just have to worry about the cake topper and Kacey and Travis’s wedding gift. Grandma says it will be delivered later this afternoon so I guess we’ll just take it on the plane with us?”
“Sure.”
They fell into an awkward silence. Jake wasn’t really sure why things felt so stilted. Like all the fight had been taken out of Char and suddenly she was just ready to do anyone’s bidding and be done.
But that was exactly what he was doing.
Except, he wanted her to want to be with him. He liked her fiery. Shit, he was happier when they were fighting than when she was quiet.
“Rough day?” he asked after a few more awkward moments of silence.
Char shrugged.
“Whoa, I got the shrug.” He poured her another glass of wine. “You want to talk about it?”
Sighing, Char tilted her head and faced him. “Not really.”
“No pressure.” He lifted his hands. “But maybe I can help.”
“Ah, the millionaire’s offering his help. How thoughtful.”
Jake winced. “What the hell is your problem?”
“My problem?” Char repeated. Then in a flurry she stood, nearly knocking over her wine, and threw her napkin on the chair. “My problem is everything is so damn easy for you! It always has been! You have this perfect life, perfect grandmother—and don’t you dare say a word against her. She may be crazy but at least you have a family that cares, not parents who forgot, again, about your birthday.”
Jake froze, a sickening feeling began to stir in his stomach as he watched the sadness wash across Char’s face. He knew that look—he knew it well: loneliness. Feeling like the forgotten one in the family was almost as bad as being the black sheep, the one nobody wanted. So, yeah it was possible their situations were different, but not by much. She was forgotten and he was a joke.
“It’s fine.” Char laughed bitterly. “We barely talk to one another anymore; there’s no way you would have known it was my birthday. I just—I don’t know. Beth had to leave for a work trip this morning and I know she was stressed, too. Maybe I sound like a complete child, but just for once… I wanted someone—other than Kacey—to remember.”
“I’m an ass,” Jake whispered. “I’m so sorry.”
“No.” Char pointed at him. “See, that’s not what I want. Pity isn’t the same thing. It sucks. I get pity all the time. ‘Oh look, that’s the poor news reporter that was drunk during the five o’clock news and fell out of her chair!’ ‘Oh look, there’s Char; she’s funny but don’t take her seriously.’ ‘Oh, how sad, Char’s family doesn’t even celebrate Christmas together because they leave her for vacation.’ Or how about this one: I can’t even visit my parents today and give them a piece of my mind because they’re spending the weekend on Alkai Beach.”
Jake licked his lips and watched as Char’s dark hair blew in the wind. Her blouse tightened across her chest as it rose and fell with her exertions. “I’m sorry,” she finally said. “Maybe lunch wasn’t such a good idea. I’m just not in the mood to be social, and then I come here and everything is so easy for you, and you have the audacity to feel sad because your grandma’s living with you and forcing you to eat donuts and drink wine. Hell, I’d kill for that.”
Never in his life had Jake ever felt so low. He’d just yelled at Grandma that morning for fixing him eggs. In fact, he’d told her to eat her own damn eggs and leave him the hell alone. Then he’d taken it a step further and actually asked for his job back. And here Char was, alone on her birthday, and apologizing for being bad company. What the hell was wrong with him? He deserved her reprimand and more, though to be honest, nobody had ever reprimanded him other than Grandma.
And that’s when he saw it.
The pull, the reason he was so unable to leave well enough alone—her strength. He craved what he saw in her so much—his subconscious, moral compass, everything about him was so screwed up that he craved her the same way an alcoholic craves whiskey.