Page 154 of Happily Never After

“Don’t interrupt me.” Charlie’s nostrils flared.

People in the restaurant were still staring, and several of them whispered and pointed. It was hard to tell if they were looking at the shouting, emotionally battered publicist or Brianna, whom Claire kept forgetting was famous.

“You abandoned your family to start a new one. Tossed us out like yesterday’s leftovers. And you disappeared from our lives.”

“Charlotte, I emailed you several times?—”

Charlie stood and planted both hands on the table. “So what? You think I wanted an email full of empty apologies from my biological father four times a year? I wanted a dad. By the time Roy came around, I was eighteen and headed to college. We have never asked for anything from you. And here you are, trying totell me how to live my life because a bunch of serial killers are trying to?—”

“Charlie,” Claire whispered and tugged on her sleeve. “Not in front of the public.”

“You’re right. Sorry.” Charlie took a deep breath and sat back down. She shifted her gaze back to her father. “You have no right to concern yourself with my welfare after two decades of neglect. I want you to stop putting agents outside my house and stop having me followed. You don’t get to have an opinion on my personal safety. If I want to get drunk and stumble down the street naked with a backpack full of Girl Scout cookies, I’m going to do it. And I don’t need your protection. So back off,” she punctuated with a final jab. She picked up her wineglass and downed what was left.

“Well,” Claire said, folding her napkin and tucking it underneath her plate. “This was really fun, guys. It’s always great to get the family together. But we should probably get going. Check? For the love of god?” She frantically scanned the room for their elusive server. That was enough for one night.

“Charlotte,” Jack said, staring at his daughter. “Please stay for a few minutes. I want to talk to you. Everyone else is free to go,” he said to the table. That was all the excuse Claire needed.

“Thanks for dinner, Jack. Tanya. See you all tomorrow.” Claire jumped out of her seat. If Jack didn’t smooth things over before Brianna’s premiere, it was going to be a very uncomfortable event. Brianna had worked so hard on this movie. There was no way Claire was going to let the Hartley dad drama overshadow her special night.

“Oh my god,” Brianna whispered behind them as they walked out into the cool night air. “I thought she was going to pull out a sword and decapitate him.”

“Honestly, I think it was a productive dinner.” Claire checked her phone for messages.

“In what way?” Brianna raised her eyebrows.

“Charlie’s been waiting to say all that to him for a long time. She’s like a little tea kettle. She gets super angry, boils over, then simmers down in time to make a delicious beverage. Seriously, her apology sweet tea is the best. She makes it with mint from her garden.”

“Anybody want subs?” Luke asked as he unlocked the car door. “I’m still starving.”

“Yes,” Brianna and Claire said in unison. She had barely touched her chicken during the shouting match.

“Let’s pick up some more wine too,” Claire said. “I have a feeling we’re going to get a visitor.”

CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE

To Do:

- Order high capacity thumb drive for Luke

- Limo pump-up playlist?

“I really shouldn’t be takingshots tonight,” Brianna said with a groan. “I’m going to look like a puffy, bloated nightmare tomorrow. You have no idea how rude the press can be. I’m one unplucked armpit hair away from a scathing tabloid cover.”

“It’s just one,” Claire said, dumping cinnamon whiskey into three shot glasses. “Think of it as a sisterly bonding ritual. But only if you’re comfortable.”

Bri shrugged and sniffed the whiskey. “This is probably a bad time to mention that I’m leaving early tomorrow morning. I have to go to my last fitting and spend the whole day getting ‘cover-worthy,’” she said with finger quotes and an eye-roll.

Claire paused mid-pour. “Are you bringing someone with you?”

Bri nodded. “My assistant will be at the appointments with me. Why are you pouring three? Didn’t Luke say he was heading up to watch one of his episodes?”

The knot in Claire’s stomach released. She nodded. “It’s not for him. Just wait. You’ll see.” She screwed the cap back on the bottle, and there was a knock at the door. “Told you.”

She didn’t pause to pull up the app before yanking the door open. There she was. Charlie stood with her arms crossed, tapping one foot against the stamped concrete porch.

“Come in.” Claire stepped back.

Charlie all but stomped into the foyer and flung her purse and jacket at Claire.

---