Page 157 of The Nanny and the Hothead
Charlotte studied the trio. Had her friends lost their minds?
“On foot?” she repeated.
Harper glanced at Libby. “Hey! I thought a little exercise would help Miss Angry Yoga Barbie over here.”
Libby tucked a lock of her jet-black hair back into the world’s messiest bun, then pointed to her ear. “I can hear you, H. I’ve lost my chi and my O, not the ability to perceive sound,” the woman hissed.
Hissed!
She hadn’t heard Libby hiss since they were in Ms. Miliken’s kindergarten class, and Libbs had to pretend to be a snake when they were learning how to write the letters.
Charlotte patted the bench. “Sit down,” she said as Libby sized up a muscled man walking toward them.
“Sorry to bother you, ladies,” the guy began, but before he could say another word, Libby was back in hiss mode.
“You are bothering us, and I doubt you’re sorry. We’re women who deserve a little respect. We don’t want to be disrupted and ogled like female slices of jock-infused beefcake!”
Female slices of jock-infused beefcake?
The man’s cheeks burned crimson. “I wanted to check if my phone was on the bench. I misplaced it, and I’m retracing my steps.”
“Oh, sorry!” Libby gasped as her cheeks grew pink.
Charlotte eyed her friend, then met the mortified man’s gaze. “I’ve been here for the last hour, and I haven’t seen a phone.”
“Okay, sorry again,” the poor guy blurted, giving Libby one last look before breaking out into a sprint and tearing down the street.
“Sorry, girls, I’ve been keyed up lately,” Libby lamented as the man turned the corner and disappeared.
H handed her the giant cup. “Drink your wheatgrass. I got it with seven pumps of serenity. I don’t even know what the hell that means, but it cost a fortune.”
Wanting to both laugh and cry, Charlotte surveyed her friends, so grateful to see them as her eyes welled with fresh tears. “I’m sorry I didn’t answer your calls. It’s like I’ve been sleepwalking through the last three days.”
Her friends clustered around her, settling themselves on the bench. Penny squeezed her hand as H rubbed her back, and Libby offered her a sip from the Serenity Big Gulp.
She waved off the drink. “Mitch found out about the workshop in London.”
“Because you told him?” Libby asked.
Charlotte’s shoulders slumped. “Because my phone rang, and he answered it. I’m sure he thought it might be the camp calling about Oscar. But it was someone from the Royal College of Art reaching out to book my flight to the UK.”
“Char, what happened?” Penny pressed.
“You remember Mitch the Hothead?”
Penny nodded.
“He’s back, and he’s more hotheaded than ever. He said that I betrayed him—that I lied to him. He told me to leave. So, I drove back to Denver. I’ve been in a fog, trying to figure out what happens next. But the funny thing is, as much as I miss him and as much as I love him, at that moment when he told me to leave, I was okay. In fact, my heart broke for him.”
Harper shook her head. “Char, you’ve got to stop letting guys do this to you. You give and give, and all they do is take from you.”
“No, it’s not like that,” she countered. “I’ve been with some real jerks in the past. I’d try to do whatever it took to make it work. But this was different. With Mitch, I came out of it stronger.”
“Stronger?” Penny repeated.
It was the truth.
“I love him. I do. But he’s the one who’s stuck. I don’t think it’s a conscious effort. It’s like he’s looking for people to disappoint him. Like he’s scared to put his heart on the line and trust in love.”
