Page 83 of Her Billionaire Boss
A tiny wrinkle of confusion appeared between Charlotte’s brows.
“She’s a pain in the ass, but she’s my sister,” I said, explaining before she could ask the question.“And if Elizabeth and Catherine are getting along, my life is a lot easier.”
“Ah.”She smiled in understanding and stepped back to wipe her eyes.As she did, she checked the phone screen.
“Is he calling back?”There was no doubt in my mind that she’d contacted Scott the second she’d stormed out of the house.
She gave a slight shake of her head and slipped the phone into her jacket.“I texted him, but nothing yet.”
“It’s possible that mother’s panic is rubbing off on you,” I suggested gently.“There’s no reason to assume anything is wrong.They probably turned their phones off to avoid us.”
“That doesn’t mean I don’t still want to yell at him.”She walked ahead of me into the house and waited for me on the other side of the door.We took the stairs together, one hand on my cane and one on the railing while she hovered close by.I’d never figured out what she thought she was going to do if I fell; she couldn’t have caught me.Even trying would take both of us down.But I wasn’t certain that her caution was even a conscious decision on her part or instinct.
In the room, we went through our bags and got changed into more casual clothing.I noted the time on the clock on the mantle.It wasn’t so late that we couldn’t reasonably get back to the city; we’d hit rush hour traffic, though the congestion was always worse leaving than entering at the end of the day.I did want to stay, to “help,” if that was possible at all, although I didn’t know who I planned to help.Maybe Mother, when she’d sobered up a little.Or Catherine, if she did come back.She certainly didn’t lack the nerves required for a second confrontation.I just didn’t want both of her children to storm out in anger on the same day.She wasn’t right, but that didn’t mean I needed to hurt her.
And besides, Charlotte and I deserved a day off, after all of that.
I gave a low whistle as Charlotte pulled her denim cut-offs over her hips.They were long enough not to be too-short, but short enough that the pockets peeked out below the edge of the legs.
“What?”She looked down.“You told me to bring something for outside.”
“Yeah, I had a feeling we were going to end up putting as much distance between us and the house as possible.”It was too bad that the little boathouse on the lake was so far away.I wouldn’t chance it with my leg, and it had probably fallen into disuse, anyhow.But when I’d been a teenager, it had been a great place forhookups.
“And we need to take advantage of the weather.”Of course, Charlotte would find a positive spin to put on everything.“It’s going to start getting colder any day now.”
“That’s what I’ve been told,” I said grimly, pulling my t-shirt on.“I’ll believe it when I see it, but these days I assume we’ll never have another winter.”
“Today’s been enough of a bummer,” she said, a note of humor in her voice.“Maybe we can talk about the climate crisis at another time.”
“Okay,” I agreed, and sat down to put on my tennis shoes.“But there isn’t much more time.”
She snorted a laugh.“Okay.We can go find a relaxing, romantic spot from where we can contemplate the inevitable heat death of our planet.”
Once we were dressed, with a couple of joints safely in my t-shirt pocket, we went downstairs and out through the kitchen.This was a shorter route and afforded us a chance to grab snacks.The staff packed up a lunch and even provided us with a blanket, which we accepted gratefully.Then, I flagged down a landscaper for a ride on his golf cart, and we were safely away from my mother’s palace of guilt and recrimination.
“This is weird,” Charlotte said, laughing, as she spread out the blanket on the grass.Of course, it wasn’t the white-and-red gingham dictated by tradition, but a subdued forest green and dark blue tartan, perfect for getting lost later, probably.
“Yeah, I don’t know why it’s that color scheme.”I lowered myself onto the blanket, catching myself with one hand when my leg decided to fuck out.
“Not the blanket,” she said, dropping the basket beside me.“The fact that we’re having this romantic date in the middle of a workday, right after I destroyed any hope of a peaceful relationship with my future—”
I gave her a crooked smile.
“Okay, shut up.That didn’t mean anything.It was a slip of the tongue.”She jutted her chin toward the basket.“What do we have?”
I opened the lid.“Bottle of white wine… some meat, some cheese… baguette…”
“Very provincial,” she said with a nod of approval.
We unpacked everything, including the cheese board and fine china plates, filled our delicate crystal glasses with wine, and gazed out in contented silence across the serene lake.
“This is nice,” Charlotte said, swallowing a bite.“I’m not used to being around small water.If we went to the beach, it was the ocean, and it was crowded and loud.”
“Benefit of having a private lake.Although, I wouldn’t recommend skinny dipping.”I wriggled my fingers at her.“Leeches.”
She grimaced in disgust.“Sounds like personal experience.”
“Unfortunately.”
