Page 88 of Floored (Frenched 3)
He was quiet a second. “You’re amazing. You’re fucking amazing. Grizzly Peak on Washington, OK? Can you be there at noon?”
“Sure.” I looked at my alarm clock. I had just over an hour to get ready. And by get ready, I mean freak out. “I’ll be there.”
“See you then. And don’t worry. Everything will be fine.”
“I’m worried,” I said. “But I’ll be there.”
After we hung up, I showered and dressed, discarding a thousand articles of clothing on the floor of my closet before pulling on my usual cold-weather uniform of jeans and an oversized sweater, boot socks and brown boots. For a splash of color I added a sage green scarf, and decided on hair half-up, no jewelry. Mia and Coco would probably have laughed and told me I was putting way too much thought into this outing—I’d spent less than half this much time deciding on what to wear for dates with Charlie—but it was important to me to make the right impression. What would she think of me? Would I pass muster? Would she deem me kind enough, sane enough, smart enough, loving enough to be in her daughter’s life? She probably thought any woman crazy enough to fall for Charlie had a few screws loose. What if she didn’t like me?
At eleven o’clock, I was still fretting in front of my mirror, my hand shaking as I tried unsuccessfully to apply mascara. Oh, forget it. The less makeup the better, probably. I twisted the wand back into the tube and threw it into my makeup case.
With one final, worried glance in the mirror, I crossed my fingers and headed out.
#
On the hour-long ride to Ann Arbor, my nerves had me strung so tight, my hands were jittery. Or maybe it was the giant cup of coffee I’d drunk on the drive. Either way, my hands shook so badly I dropped my credit card twice before sliding it in the meter, and my keys once before getting them into my purse.
When I arrived at the restaurant, I saw Charlie sitting at a table with four chairs, and one of them was occupied by a dark-haired woman whose back was to me. Taking a deep breath, I walked toward them on wobbly legs. Dammit, legs, man up. I need to look confident, smart, sure of myself. This has to work.
Charlie saw me and stood up, and my steps faltered a little when he smiled at me. Damn, those eyes. Those dimples. That height. That chest. Those hands. I hadn’t seen him in so long, I had to hold myself back from sprinting to close the distance between us and throwing my arms around him (legs, too). Calm, calm, calm, I reminded myself. You can’t squeal like a teenager, you have to act like the sort of woman that a mother would trust with her child.
I managed to make it to the table. “Hello,” I said, my voice cracking. I smiled first at Charlie and then at Laura. “I’m Erin.”
She stood and offered her hand. “Laura.”
I took it, and we assessed one another. Laura appeared composed, and her handshake was firm. She was a little taller than I was, pretty in a sort of Audrey Hepburn way, with soft brown eyes, beautiful skin, and a long straight nose. Like me, she wore jeans and a sweater, with a scarf looped around her neck. Hair in a loose, low ponytail. “Nice to meet you.” I gave her the warmest smile I could manage with trembling lips and turned to Charlie. “Hi.”
“Hi.” For someone who’d told me not to worry, Charlie looked nervous as hell. But he squeezed my shoulder in a reassuring way and leaned forward to kiss my cheek. “Thanks for coming.”
“You’re welcome.”
We all sat down, a layer of tension clinging to us despite the niceties. I reached for a menu just to have something to do. My throat was dry, too—water. I needed water. Thankfully, there was some on the table, and I reached for it but knocked it over by mistake. Water and ice sluiced out across the table, right into Charlie’s lap.
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry.” My face burned with embarrassment, and I scrambled to find a napkin to offer.
Charlie used his own, mopping at his wet jeans. “It’s OK. Spills happen.”
“Don’t worry, Erin. You’re not the first woman to throw a drink at him,” remarked Laura with an amused grin.
“I didn’t mean to—Oh dear, I’m—” I put my hands on my hot cheeks. “This is really difficult.”
“Relax. Really.” Laura tossed her napkin Charlie’s way. “This isn’t a test.”
“See why I used to call her Red? Look at her face.” Still sopping up water, Charlie grinned wickedly at me.
Laura turned to me. “You want my water to throw at him, too?”
“I might.” I gave Charlie a dirty look. “You told her about that name?”
“Yes. Along with all the other mean things I did to you as a kid, and all the other names I used to call you.”
“Frankly, I’m amazed you want to speak to him, let alone date him,” Laura said.
“Sometimes I am too.” I met her eyes. “But he sort of grew on me.”
Laura exchanged a look with Charlie. “Yeah, you have to watch out for that.”
Oh, dear. I’d said something wrong already. Worried, I twisted my hands in my lap, unsure of what to say next. The waiter rescued me by coming over to take our orders, but since I hadn’t even looked at the menu yet and my stomach was way too gnarled up to eat, I just ordered an iced tea.
