Page 59 of One More Chance
Her assistant rapped her knuckles on the door to her office and poked her head in.
“Everything okay, Charlotte?” Kate asked, looking Charlotte up and down.
Charlotte knew that she looked like shit. She had on a baseball hat with her hair tucked up underneath, a roomy gray hooded sweatshirt, jeans, and running shoes. A far cry from her business self, but more importantly, a further cry from the woman pouring champagne over a model’s head.
“Yes, I’m just catching up on some paperwork,” she replied. It was the truth, the paperwork, while mind-numbingly dull, kept her from replaying everything that had happened repeatedly in her head.
Her phone buzzed, dancing across the glass desk, Logan’s name lighting up the screen. She sighed and clicked ignore – again. She held out her hand and her assistant placed the pink message slips in her hand.
Her phone buzzed again, and Charlotte grabbed at it, couldn’t he take a hint? But it was Megan’s number. She leaned back in her white leather chair and answered. She and Megan hadn’t spoken since the day before.
“Hi, Meg. I’ve been meaning to call,” Charlotte answered.
“I know, Char. Me too. Are you doing okay?”
“I’m great, just about to firm up on a three-point two-million-dollar penthouse deal.”
“That’s great Char, but I kinda meant are you okay, you know, personally?”
“Well,” Charlotte sighed. “I fell in love with a cheater. I embarrassed myself in front of millions of people, and... she reached to find something else, but couldn’t. “But I guess it could be worse.”
“I told Josh that he had to kick Logan out of the wedding party; you won’t have to see him when you come back to town.”
“Oh Meg, you didn’t have to do that. I know that he and Josh are close.”
“Are you kidding me? There’s no way I could walk down the aisle and look at that lying sack of you know what, standing there beside my fiancé.”
“And Josh agreed?”
“Well, reluctantly. He wanted me to talk to Logan. The guy’s been calling me non-stop, but I don’t have anything to say to him.”
Charlotte sighed. “I know. He’s called me three times this morning already.” She heard the line click as Megan received another call.
“Shoot, that’s the florist calling, I’ve got to take this.”
“No gerbera daisies,” Charlotte yelled into the phone with a smile on her face.
Megan laughed, “Talk soon, Char.”
Just as soon as she hung up her cell, her office phone rang. She sighed but was thankful for another distraction.
“Charlotte O’Hare,” she said, all business.
“Mrs. O’Hare, this is Frank Guster.” Charlotte paused, unable to place the name. Her first reaction was to correct his salutation to Miss but decided to figure out who he was first.
“Hello, Mr. Guster. What can I do for you?” she asked.
“I know that it’s short notice, but I was just informed about your rather large donation to our association.”
Charlotte narrowed her eyes, her assistant was typically good at filtering out the fraudsters; she took a deep breath, preparing to tell this Mr. Guster off.
“And what association is that Mr. Guster? And it’s Miss O’Hare. Not Mrs.”
“My apologies Miss O’Hare and forgive my manners. I’m the CEO of the junior hockey association for the state. I’m calling regarding your recent charitable donation to the Chance Rapids Bobcats.”
“Ohh.” The pieces fell together instantly. Charlotte had forgotten all about the check that she had handed to Logan after the game. “Of course, Mr. Guster. I’m glad to help out with small town sports.” It was true, but she was also getting a handsome tax rebate.
“And we truly appreciate your support. The league couldn’t run without donors like you and that’s why I’m calling. As you’re probably aware, Game Seven of the playoffs is tomorrow, and we are honoring all of the platinum level donors before the game.”
