Tapestry of Trust (10 page)

She really didn’t trust him. Swallowing the lump in his throat, Charlie opened his mouth to tell Isabelle how much he still cared about her, when the sound of scampering footsteps drew near. A second later, Mrs. Johnson poked her head into the room.

“Isabelle, could you help me in the kitchen?”

“Certainly.” Isabelle nodded at the woman. She turned and gestured toward the doorway. “I need to go.”

He watched her leave, sure of one thing. He was still in love with Isabelle Crafton.

****

Isabelle opened the trashcan and tugged out the bulging bag. She tied the ends together as the lid clanked shut.

“Hurry and finish with the trash. It’s about time for the lovebirds to open their gifts.” Mrs. Johnson was filling one of the crystal ice buckets.

“Aye, Captain.” Isabelle wanted to salute. Instead, she opened the back door.

Mrs. Johnson chuckled. “When you get back you can swab the deck.”

“Always something to look forward to.” Isabelle forced a chuckle and shut the door. Taking a breath, she slumped up against it for a second. Despite the fact that her heart was battered and bruised, she was holding it together. She had to put on a happy face for Kate’s sake. Tears flooded her eyes, and she blinked hard to deter them.
Lord, help me move on in my life and not stay stuck in the pain of the past.

Suddenly, she got a whiff of something rotten.
The trash.

Holding her breath, she clutched the bag at arm’s length, darted across the deck, down the steps, and around to the side of the house, where she lobbed the garbage bag into the large receptacle. Normally, concerned about getting dirty, she would have cringed at the idea of dealing with trash during a party. But she had no one to impress. Especially not Charlie. She rubbed her hands together, and turned back, not excited about the prospect of mingling with guests. But she was the hostess and duty was duty. Besides, for all she knew, Charlie had left.

She felt her heart trip.

Stop that.
She walked quicker. Not as if she’d miss him.

Halfway up the stairs, she heard the back door creak open then boots clomp onto the wooden deck.
Her breath went out as a gasp,
and she froze on the top step as Charlie stood beneath the patio eaves.

He’s still here.
Isabelle forced herself to breathe. Again, he sneaked away from his girlfriend while she wasn’t looking. And now here he stood stretching his limbs, Erica nowhere in sight.

Crummy boyfriend
. That was the nicest thought rolling through her head.

“There you are.” Charlie approached and came to a halt mere inches from her.

Isabelle mashed her lips to keep from snorting. How gullible did he think she was? Sweet talking her with his girlfriend inside.
Girlfriend.
Isabelle’s heart twisted. She felt weak. She staggered back, gripping the wooden banister to brace herself.

“Are you OK?” The smile slid off Charlie’s face. He moved toward her.

Isabelle shot her hand up like a traffic cop. “I’m fine. I just haven’t eaten much today.”

Charlie gave her one of those you-know-better-than-that looks. “It’s almost four. You better grab something before you pass out.”

“Please.” She snapped. “I can take care of myself.”

For a moment, Charlie stood there, his mouth gaping. Then he shrugged. “I’m sure you can.”

Good. They agreed on something. She drew in a shaky breath. “I need to get back to the party.”

“Before you go in, let’s plan a time to get together.”

Was he kidding? “Never.” She shot back. “That is unless you plan to bring your girlfriend, too.” Even then, probably not.

“So that’s what’s wrong.” Charlie gave a deep-throated chuckle.

Isabelle straightened, stiffening her spine, her fingers clenched. Even if she resembled one of her students ready to throw a temper tantrum, she didn’t care. “You think you’re so sly, don’t you, making a play for me while your girlfriend’s inside? You’re a bigger loser than I thought.” As if that were possible.

“Isabelle.” Charlie held up a hand. “I don’t have a girlfriend.”

Yeah, right.
She pushed a hand on her hip. Like she’d believe him.

“In fact, I haven’t dated anyone in nearly a year.”

Whoopee.
Isabelle waggled her head.
Like a year was some sort of record. Well, she hadn’t dated in six. Not that Charlie needed to know. “Whatever. You can refer to Erica anyway you like.” Isabelle swung past him and headed toward the door.

“Erica and I broke up over eleven months ago.”

Isabelle took a couple more steps then a thought jarred her. He probably thought she was jealous. She whirled back. “Girlfriend or not, I don’t want to meet with you.”

Charlie moved closer. “We need to talk.”

“No, we don’t.” She owed him nothing.

“Isabelle, I care about you. I always have.”

Everything inside her stilled. She couldn’t move. Didn’t trust herself to speak. How long had she waited to hear those words? Words that would have changed everything. Remembrance of those lonely months she carried his child made her shiver despite the heat bubbling through her veins. She rubbed her bare arms against the chill. How dare he care about her now when she’d finally gotten her life on track.

He reached out to touch her.

She jerked out of his path, fighting not to cringe. Fighting not to cry.

Charlie inched even closer. “Isabelle, we’ve made mistakes. Both of us. We need to discuss them. But this isn’t the place.”

On that fact she agreed.

“One hour. That’s all I ask.”

She wanted to walk away. Needed to walk away. She drew herself up to her full height of five foot two and crossed her arms, hoping to make it clear they were finished. “No. I… I—” She broke off as she noted the pain in his expression. Seeing the color drain from his cheeks and his brow knitted made her heart ache. Reluctantly, she found herself nodding. “All right. One hour.”

“Great. When?”

“I don’t know.” She rubbed her head. “Maybe, next week.”

“I’m open, any day.”

Of course, he was. Isabelle blew out a breath. “OK. Wednesday. Seven o’clock at Tenille’s?” He knew the place.

“OK. I can swing by and pick you—”

She threw up her hand. “No, I’ll meet you there.”

“Isabelle, we live in the same apartment complex.”

As if she could forget. Concern flickered in his eyes, and she knew he worried that she’d stand him up. Might be good for him to fret a little. Then, a gentle voice, calling for compassion, whispered into her thoughts.

She sighed.
“
Six forty five. Be at my apartment. We’ll walk.” That’s the most compromise she’d make. Driving, close quarters…no way.

****

“I’ll be there.” Though he would have liked to see a little more enthusiasm on her face, at least she agreed.

“I think this will be good for both of us.”

He saw a look of panic in Isabelle’s eyes at the same time the back door swung open and someone stepped out onto the deck. Before he could swivel his head to see who it was, an arm draped around his waist.

“Charlie, honey, why don’t you come inside and get something to eat.”

“What?” Charlie twisted from Erica’s grip. He sent her his most toxic glare before turning his gaze back on Isabelle. Her emerald eyes widened, and her mouth opened as if ready to say something. Instead she tightened her lips and marched toward the doorway.

As she passed him, he reached for her arm. “Isabelle, wait.” She quickened her pace and disappeared into the house.

In five seconds Erica managed to undo every positive step he’d made with Isabelle. Anger scorched through him like wildfire. Charlie turned back to Erica. “Why would you do such a thing?”

She gave him a crooked smile.

Crossing his arms over his thundering chest, he glared down at her. “I don’t know what you were thinking, but I want it to stop.”

“No. You need to stop.” Erica took a step forward, rising on her toes, close enough for him to see the fire in her eyes and smell her minty breath. “I know all about Isabelle. You’re mother told me everything.”

Which would amount to? What?
He shook his head. “I’m fine with whatever my mother told you.” He moved in closer to Erica, backing her up a step. “I have nothing to hide.”

“So you admit it.” Her voice climbed several octaves.

He led her by the elbow to the far end of the porch. “Listen. My personal life isn’t up for discussion.” He kept his voice low, calm, collected.

“Don’t skirt around the truth, Charlie.” Erica’s high-pitched squeal didn’t make him cringe, but the contorted look on her face did.

He let out a breath, swung his gaze to the door, hoping no one could hear them. It hadn’t occurred to him he’d have to defend his interest in Isabelle today. Especially with nothing to defend. “OK.” He met her glare. “Isabelle was my old girlfriend and as of now that’s all she is.” His mouth dried at the finality of the words.
Old girlfriend.
Even with the temperature unseasonably cool, he felt a trickle of sweat along his brow. He swiped it away with his knuckle.

“You’re interested in her? I thought your mother was just jumping to conclusions.” Erica shook her head as if that was the strangest notion she’d ever heard. “So she’s the reason you won’t work on our relationship.”

He scooted back, his back pressed against the corner post putting more space between them. “Isabelle has nothing to do with us.”

“I can’t believe you’d choose that… that…” Erica lifted her nose, waving a hand toward the house. “That half pint waif over me.”

“Hold on a minute.” His jaw tightened. He was used to Erica running off at the mouth, but he didn’t intend to let that statement pass. “No derogatory statements about Isabelle. She isn’t our problem.”

“Don’t defend that woman.”

“There isn’t anything to defend. Isabelle isn’t in competition with you.”

“You’re right!” Crimson now stained Erica’s cheeks. “It appears she’s already won.”

“It’s not like that.” He pitched his voice low, trying to deescalate the situation. “I’m not dating Isabelle.”

“Not dating?” Erica’s tone softened.

“No, but, I am interested.”

Erica gaped at him for a moment. “I can’t believe this,” she muttered. “I thought you were trying to make me jealous, having your mother leak the news. I can’t believe you’re already giving up on us.”

Already?
“Erica, we broke up over eleven months ago. That was longer than we dated.” He shook his head. “And, as far as my mother goes—”

“Nobody makes a fool of me, Charlie.”

Confusion smacked him. “How am I making a fool of you?”

Erica threw up her arms. “My Daddy may think you’re a good employee, but nobody dumps me and doesn’t pay for it.” She turned, mumbling something as she stomped back into the house.

Probably good he couldn’t hear. Shaking his head, he prayed,
Lord, please help me get out of this mess.

9

When Charlie arrived for the Wednesday morning manager’s’ meeting the conference room was empty. He moved around the long, mahogany table and took a seat near the front. He opened his briefcase, pulled out his laptop and powered it on, ready for his presentation. Drumming a thumb on the armrest, he waited for his colleagues to arrive.

Once everyone was there and seated, Mr. Huss called the meeting to order. As he went over the morning agenda, Erica slipped into the room and took a seat. Charlie found it interesting that she chose to sit next to him, especially when several other chairs remained vacant.

“Charlie.” Erica leaned close and whispered. “Pass me an agenda.”

He reached to his left, pulled a single sheet from the pile and handed it to her. He ignored the smile on her face.

Mr. Huss leaned on the podium and adjusted his glasses. “Thank you for coming everyone. I hope the agenda doesn’t look too overwhelming. We have a full morning ahead of us. But before we dive in, there’s an issue I need to share that just came to my attention.”

Charlie rocked back in his chair, all ears.

“Hanson Industries called today and reported that they’ve recently been the victim of an embezzlement scheme.”

Hanson Industries?
Charlie rubbed at his jaw. That was his account.

“Several million dollars have been diverted to various accounts around the country.” Mr. Huss cleared his voice. “Those of you who were involved with their marketing may be requested to answer some questions.”

Comments and grumbling rose around the table. Charlie had been their main marketing agent. He’d been privy to the ins and outs of company business and knew everyone from the managers on up. Crazy to think one of them could have been responsible.

“Sorry, to start off on a sour note.” Mr. Huss closed the file in front of him and tucked it under his arm. “Now let’s get this meeting rolling. First thing on our agenda is Charlie’s marketing strategy for Cedar Lake Barn.”

Charlie stood and took Mr. Huss’s place at the podium.

For forty-five minutes he scrolled through slides. He articulated projections and ideas, feeling good about the audience response by the time he was finished. “Any more questions?” He slid his gaze around, scanning the faces around the table. When his eyes touched on Erica, a sardonic grin spilt her face.

The cat that ate the canary.
She was up to something.

An hour and a half later, the meeting adjourned.

Charlie stood and shrugged into his jacket.

Erica elbowed his forearm. “Lunch, Charlie?” Her long lashes brushed against her cheek as she winked.

She never stopped.
He breathed deep. “No, thanks.”