Page 28 of Be Our Ghost
“That’s what I thought. I don’t want to discount Lila’s experience, but…”
“Maybe Knox has changed since then. Or…” Rosie drew out the word, as if still putting the pieces together. “I usually always take the woman’s side in situations like this, but I wonder if Lila said those things so she wouldn’t be painted as the villain. From the timeline of this article, it looks like she and Knox were engaged for a year. Once they broke things off, she started dating Evanimmediately. Right after that, Knox left the show, supposedly to spend time with his family in the Okanagan Valley. Which makes me think he either resigned out of humiliation or was forced out.”
This was a lot to take in. Needing a break, Charlie stood and stretched. “Do you want any dessert? Knox brought me some strawberry Jell-O cups.”
“No, thanks.”
While retrieving her Jell-O, Charlie mulled over everything she’d read. Obviously, she was biased in favor of Knox, but Rosie’s take on the interview made sense. It wasn’t a good look that Lila had dumped Knox for his writing partner. Especially since Knox’s letter made it sound like he and Evan had been more than just co-writers—they’d been close friends. And they’d shared an apartment. Talk about a crushing betrayal.
“I sent you a link to another article,” Rosie said. “In it, Evan pretty much accused Knox of being an alcoholic with serious anger issues. He also hinted that the real reason Knox left the show was to go into rehab. I don’t buy it. Knox might be a bartender, but I’ve never seen him get drunk. My take is that Evan made up this shit to cover his ass.”
Charlie sighed. “Poor Knox. That really sucks.”
“You should talk to him about it. Get the whole story. Clearly, he wants to share this stuff. He’s probably tired of keeping it hidden.”
“I can’t imagine how hard that would be.” Charlie sat back down on the couch. “Are you okay if we keep this between us? It’s fine if you share it with Drew, but I don’t want anyone else to know. Not until Knox is ready.”
“I won’t breathe a word. And Drew’s never seen the show, so I doubt he’d care.”
“Thanks. I’m sure Knox is wondering how I’m going to react to all of this. I’m glad he gave me time to process it.” If he’d told her outright, she might have been overwhelmed. This way was better.
For today, she’d let it all sink in.
She could call him tomorrow.
Twelve
When Knox wokeup on Monday morning, he was still thinking about the note he’d left for Charlie. Had he revealed too much? Too little? Not that it mattered, since the deed was done.
Rather than waste another minute brooding, he drove to Goldstream Park—a wooded area filled with hiking trails—and spent the day taking photos of the striking fall colors. Years ago, he’d bought a Nikon camera and devoted hours to studying photography, just to have another skill set in his arsenal. Though he didn’t post his pictures online, he’d framed some of his best ones and given them to family members as gifts.
By the end of the day, he still hadn’t heard from Charlie.
Maybe he’d mucked up everything. No doubt she’d found the interview where Lila had accused him of having a frightening temper, or the one where Evan had hinted at Mac’s so-called alcohol abuse. But it was better Charlie learn about all of it now, instead of a few months down the road.
On Tuesday morning, he received a text from her. He braced for the worst, but her message revealed very little.
Charlie: Could we meet up before work today? I don’t have to go in until 3.
That could mean anything. But whether she intended to deliver good news or bad, he was grateful for a chance to talk to her in person.
Knox: Want to get lunch at Fisherman’s Wharf? Barb’s Fish & Chips at 1?
Charlie: I love Fisherman’s Wharf!! I’ll see you there.
Of course she loved Fisherman’s Wharf. It was the kind of fun, touristy place that had Charlie written all over it. Located just west of Victoria’s Inner Harbour, it was a waterfront area filled with sailboats and fishing vessels, as well as food kiosks and souvenir shops geared toward out-of-town visitors. But the main reason people came to the wharf was to check out the floating homes. Thirty-three tiny houses, decorated in a riot of colors, were moored at various berths in the harbor, easily viewable via a series of wooden boardwalks.
When he arrived, Charlie was already seated at a picnic table by the fish and chips kiosk, wearing sunglasses and a light pink T-shirt with the words “The book was better” written in a stylized cursive. She waved at him. “Hey, Knox. I grabbed a spot for us because it’s super busy here. I’ve been guarding it with my life.”
Around them, the other tables were filled with a large collection of elderly folks, all wearing Day-Glo lanyards. Knox assumed they’d come to Fisherman’s Wharf as part of a tour. “Thanks. How’s your cold?”
“I’m still kind of stuffed up, but I’m much better than I was on Sunday. It feels so good to be outside. Isn’t the weather glorious?” She tilted her head toward the sun, as if basking in its warmth. “I love this time of year. Not too hot, but still plenty of sunshine. I stashed my work clothes in my car because I didn’t want to wear them until I have to.”
“I don’t blame you.” He couldn’t help but notice how her scoop-neck shirt revealed a tantalizing hint of cleavage.
She stood up. “What do you want? It’s on me.” When he started to protest, she held up her hand. “Nope. You bought all those groceries and took care of me on Sunday. The least I can do is buy you lunch.”
“Fair enough. I’ll have a large lemonade and the fish and chips basket with cod.”
