Seasons of Sorrow Read online

  “Just bring me back a salad. Chicken Caesar if they have it. House salad if they don’t. Grilled or fried chicken, it doesn’t matter which. And ranch dressing.”

  Her assistant gave her a single short nod and left the room. Twenty minutes later, Laura returned, container in hand, with her salad. She sat the container and a bottle of water on the corner of Charlotte’s desk.

  Charlotte thanked her absently and finished up the email she was writing as Laura left the room. A glance at her watch told her that she had a little more than an hour to eat and finish up the last of her work.

  Quickly, she drank her water and at most of the chicken Caesar salad that Laura brought. By two, she had eaten and done all but a few small tasks that she felt comfortable delegating to her assistant.

  After shutting down her computer, Charlotte grabbed her bag and left her office. She stopped a Laura’s desk and gave her a sheet of paper.

  “I need this done before you leave today, okay?” Charlotte said. “Oh, and thanks for grabbing me something to eat. I appreciate it.”

  Laura smiled. “No problem.” She looked over the list. “Any specific instructions or you just want me to go down the list?” she asked.

  “As long as it all gets done, I don’t really care what order you do it in,” Charlotte replied with a smile of her own.

  “No problem. I’ll see you tomorrow morning,” Laura said cheerfully.

  Charlotte nodded and left the office. The heat of the day was immense as she emerged from the building and got into her car. The drive to the FBI building near downtown was not as bad as she thought it would be. She arrived within fifteen minutes. Her palms began to sweat slightly as she walked into the lobby and it had nothing to do with the heat outside.

  Her anxiety level rose a notch with each step she took. She walked up to the reception desk.

  “I’m here to see Special Agent George Bray,” she said to the stern woman behind the desk. “My name is Charlotte Fallon.”

  The woman nodded and picked up the phone. “Please take a seat,” she said, gesturing with her other hand toward a group of black chairs nearby.

  Charlotte walked to the chairs, perched on the edge of one, and crossed her legs. After a moment she realized she was bouncing her foot from the anxiety coursing through her system. She heard her phone ding in her purse.

  Thankful for a distraction, Charlotte pulled her phone out of her purse. It was a text from Greg.

  Haven’t heard from u in a while.

  Charlotte frowned. She hadn’t texted Greg since their conversation over the weekend. She rarely went more than a day without texting or calling him. As one of her best friends, they communicated regularly, even if it was just a short text or a five minute phone call.

  I’m sorry. I’ve been busy.

  She heard footsteps echoing in the lobby and looked up. Agent Bray was walking toward her.

  Quickly, she added, I’ll call you later. Dinner tonight?

  Ok. Talk to u soon.

  “Ms. Fallon?” Agent Bray’s voice was incredulous.

  Charlotte looked up as she tucked her phone away in her bag. “Hi, Agent Bray.”

  He studied her for a moment. “You’ve cut your hair. It’s very flattering,” he said.

  Charlotte blushed slightly and touched the short hair at the nape of her neck. “Thank you.”

  “If you’ll come with me,” the agent said.

  Charlotte rose and followed him to a bank of elevators. He pressed the button for the third floor and the elevator doors closed. She struggled not to give into the urge to fidget. Being here made her nervous.

  A thought hit her out of the blue. “Should I have called my lawyer? I mean, I’m sure that makes me sound guilty, but should I have some kind of representation here?”

  The special agent glanced at her. He seemed slightly amused rather than annoyed, which made Charlotte blush again. She was sure she sounded moronic, but she felt completely out of her depth.

  “You’ve been cleared of involvement, Ms. Fallon, so, unless you want to confess to some sort of wrongdoing…” he trailed off and smiled slightly when Charlotte shook her head. “Then you’re okay without your attorney present today.”

  She blew out a long breath. Agent Bray’s attitude was definitely less brusque than before. It was even mildly flirtatious. Charlotte wasn’t sure how to respond. The special agent was probably in his late thirties and attractive in a conservative way. Surely he wasn’t flirting with her. That had to be unethical, or unprofessional, or something.

  “Will Agent Cruz be joining us?” she asked, desperate to change the subject.

  “Renee is in the field today.”

  The elevator came to a stop and the doors slid open.

  “If you’ll follow me,” Agent Bray said.

  Charlotte followed him through a maze of corridors, feeling like a mouse in a lab test. She was completely lost when he stopped in front of an unmarked door. He opened the door and led her into an office. She assumed it was his. There were files stacked neatly on his desk, pens and pencils scattered all over the blotter, and a mug of steaming coffee sitting next to his computer keyboard.

  Agent Bray gestured for Charlotte to sit. “Would you like some water or coffee?” he asked.

  She shook head, just wanting to get this over with.

  He went around to his chair behind the desk and sat down. “Then let’s get started.” He pulled out a digital recorder and set it on the desk. After he pressed the record button, he stated his name, the date and time, her name, and the case number, for his records. Then he asked her to tell him about the phone call.

  Charlotte repeated her conversation with Derek for him once more. After the first time, he started to ask her questions. When he took her back through the entire conversation again, he asked for small details and if she heard anything or other people in the background.

  Finally, after an hour of questions and repeating herself, Agent Bray put his pen down and stopped the recorder. “Okay, Ms. Fallon. I think that’s enough.”

  She breathed a sigh of relief. Now she knew how a rotisserie chicken felt on the spit. No matter what she did, some part of her body was hovering over the fire.

  “If your husband contacts you again, please call me immediately. Don’t wait.”

  Charlotte nodded. “I will.”

  “I’ll walk you out,” he said as he stood.

  “That would be great. I don’t think I could find my way out of here alone,” Charlotte said truthfully.

  He chuckled and held the door for her as they left the office. They rode back down the first floor on the elevator.

  “Thank you for coming in today, Ms. Fallon.”

  “Please don’t be offended if I say I hope I never have to see you again.”

  He laughed outright and it made him more than average. “No offense taken.”

  Charlotte said good-bye and left the field office, still feeling light. After the interview with Agent Bray, she should be miserable and depressed and thinking about all the years she wasted with Derek. Instead, she felt only relief that a resolution was in her future. It may take months or even a year or two, but she would extricate every trace of the bad things Derek had done from her life, one thing at a time.

  Now, all she could do was pick up the pieces. Starting with her friendship with Greg. Derek’s revelations had caused damage to the relationship she shared with Greg, but she wanted to fix it. Charlotte wasn’t sure where it would lead, but she did know that she needed his friendship. He gave her the freedom to be who she was without worrying about reproach or rebuff. He accepted her as she was, no questions asked.

  Even after the lies and the secrets, Charlotte couldn’t fault him for making the same decisions she would have made had she been in his position. In every way that mattered, he had been there for her and taken care of her when she needed him.

  After she climbed into her car and started the engine, Charlotte picked up her phone. Taking a deep breath,
she typed out the message to Greg before she lost her nerve.

  Dinner. My house. 7 p.m.

  Chapter Eighteen

  After her meeting with Agent Bray, it was still early, only three-thirty, so Charlotte went back to the office. She did stop for an iced latte on the way. On a whim, she ordered one for Laura, hoping the flavor would be one that she liked.

  When she came back into the office, her assistant stared at her in surprise for a moment before she jerked and took the latte Charlotte was holding out for her.

  “Ms. Fall…I mean, Charlotte, what are you doing back here?” she asked.

  “My appointment ended earlier than I thought so I decided to come back to work and finish out the day.” Granted there was only an hour left in the work day, but she figured she could get something done before five.

  Her phone dinged as she entered her office and Charlotte checked the screen. It was Greg.

  Let’s go out. Gloria’s ok?

  She set her bag on her desk and plopped down in her desk chair before she replied.

  Sure. My treat.

  Greg’s response was immediate. Hell no.

  Charlotte grinned and texted back, Why not?

  Greg sent her a frowny face, quickly followed by the words: U know why.

  That wiped the smile off her face. She did know why. It never occurred to her before, but Greg always tried to pay when they went out in college or when the two of them went out for lunch or dinner while she was married to Derek. Charlotte never truly thought about it, just snuck her credit card or money to the waitress as soon as he wasn’t looking.

  Now that she knew how Greg felt about her, Charlotte understood why he always tried to pay. He wanted her to look at him differently. When she remembered the way she inserted him into her fantasy Sunday night, heat filled her cheeks. She certainly did see him differently now. He just didn’t know it.

  Charlotte typed, Perfect. I’ll meet you there.

  See u at 6.

  Somehow, Charlotte managed to focus on her work until five. She walked out to the parking lot with Laura and waved good-bye to her assistant as she got into her car and headed toward the restaurant. The place was busy, even for early on a Tuesday, probably because they had $4 happy hour drinks and they were not only good, they were strong.

  Charlotte walked into the restaurant and stood at the hostess desk, smoothing her dress down her hips.

  “Charlotte?”

  She turned to find Greg staring down at her. His eyes went from the top of her head to the nude peep-toe pumps on her feet and back again. As he looked her over, Charlotte felt her skin tingle. The feeling was foreign. Greg had never inspired that kind of feeling in her before. What made her even more off-balance was the fact that she liked the sensation his perusal evoked.

  “Hi, Greg.”

  “Your hair….wow, it’s short.” He acted as though he wanted to say something else but the words never came out.

  Charlotte’s brows drew together in a frown. “Yes, it is.”

  Greg must have realized how rude his words seemed because he said, “It looks great on you. It just surprised me.” His eyes wandered down her body in a way they had never done before and the tingles on her skin coalesced in her nipples and between her thighs.

  A sweat broke out on her palms.

  “How many this evening?”

  She turned to find the hostess watching them with a politely expectant smile on her face.

  Charlotte cleared her throat. “Just two.” She knew her voice sounded husky. She only hoped that Greg didn’t notice.

  As they followed the young woman to a table and sat, it was obvious that Greg heard the change in her voice because his eyes were both guarded and hot at the same time. The hostess left menus with them and disappeared with a smile.

  “Now that I’m getting over the shock, I think that this is the prettiest you’ve ever looked. Between the new haircut and that dress, you take my breath away.”

  Charlotte’s own breathing stuttered at Greg’s compliments. It had been too many years since someone said sweet things to her. Derek’s flattery and adoration had petered out after the first year of their marriage, probably around the time he started screwing around on her.

  She knew she was probably blushing bright pink, but Charlotte forced herself to look at the menu rather than Greg. “Thank you. Can we please talk about something else?”

  Greg chuckled under his breath. “You never could take a compliment, but, yes, we can talk about something else.”

  They sat in companionable silence for a few moments, both studying the menu, even though Charlotte was sure they would end up ordering the same things they always did.

  “So what inspired the new look?” Greg asked.

  She set her menu down and gave him a look.

  “What?” he asked, trying to look innocent, but failing miserably.

  “I thought we were changing the subject,” she said pointedly.

  He shrugged. “I kind of did. I’m holding back all the flattery on the tip of my tongue, barely, so I think that counts.”

  Despite her irritation, Charlotte smirked. Greg always somehow managed to annoy and amuse her simultaneously. And he did it very well.

  “Fine,” she said. “After this weekend, I realized that, not only did I not know who I was any longer, what I did know, I didn’t like. Until the last few years, I have never been a doormat or weak. I may be quiet and sometimes even shy, but I was never afraid. Not like I became while I was with Derek. I became afraid of disagreements, confrontation, and disappointing others. I’m tired of feeling that way.”

  Greg nodded. “I understand.”

  One look at his face and Charlotte knew he was being sincere and that he did indeed understand. She started to say something but their waiter approached the table at that moment.

  “Good evening. My name is Raoul. What would you like to drink?”

  Charlotte ordered a glass of ice water and a margarita on the rocks. Greg ordered the same, only he wanted his margarita frozen. Considering how strong the bartender liked to make the drinks, Charlotte decided she would have only one. The change in Greg’s behavior toward her threw her off enough. She didn’t need alcohol to make it worse.

  After their waiter left, Charlotte made another effort to change the subject. Making a show of looking at her menu, she asked, “What do you think you’ll have?

  “I’m sure I’ll get the same thing I always get.” His index finger tapped the top of her menu. “Char, look at me.”

  She met his eyes and immediately saw that he had banked the heat that appeared in them earlier and he was looking at her the way he always did before.

  “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I understand what it’s like to be sick of playing a part and pretending to be someone you’re not. Now that you know everything, it’s hard for me to play the same part.”

  Charlotte wanted to tell him that he didn’t have to, that he could let all those emotions show, but she wasn’t sure she could handle it. The way he looked at her earlier made her feel stripped bare and started an inferno beneath her skin. It was unsettling to realize that he could do that to her with only a look. What freaked her out even more was the knowledge that she had been too blind to see even a glimmer of this over the last ten years.

  “I’m sorry, Greg. I don’t want you to feel as though you can’t be honest, but, please, give me a little time to get used to it. Can you try to pull back a bit for now?” she asked.

  His face got tight. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, Charlie.”

  She smiled weakly. “I’m not uncomfortable, Greg. I…” she trailed off, searching for the right words. “It’s like waking up one morning and realizing that you’ve been living your life upside down while the rest of the world walks around right side up. Everything that I thought I knew or felt has been a lie. I need time to get used to the new reality.”

  He smiled slightly at her analogy. “I think I understand. It’s
hard for me to be patient. I’ve been waiting for you for ten years, Charlotte. Every time I tried to move on, it never worked out. I know it was preparation for this.”

  Charlotte didn’t have a chance to respond. Even if she had, she had no clue how to respond to that. Raoul came back with their drinks and she took a healthy sip of her margarita.

  “Have you decided what you would like this evening or do you need more time?” the waiter asked pleasantly.

  Greg ordered the beef and chicken fajitas, as he usually did, and Charlotte ordered her favorite, chicken smothered in a creamy mushroom sauce. After the waiter walked away, she took another large drink of her margarita. She didn’t want to get drunk, but her mouth and lips were bone dry. Even after that sip, she had to lick her bottom lip because it felt parched.

  Greg’s eyes went directly to her mouth and stayed there. Charlotte had to give him a great deal of credit. All those years of only being her friend, he managed to hide the way he felt. He wasn’t bothering to hide any longer. The longing on his face made Charlotte’s heart ache.

  “Greg.” She had to stop and clear her throat. Her voice was deeper, yet breathy, and sounded like an invitation. She watched as his pupils dilated, but managed to regain her focus. “I don’t know if I can return your feelings.”

  His eyes wandered from her mouth to her throat. Reflexively, Charlotte swallowed. Slowly, his eyes went even lower and she knew that her nipples were hardening under his gaze. Even though she wore a lightly padded bra, she was sure he could see them because he lifted his stare to look into her eyes.

  “I don’t think that will be an issue, Charlotte,” he said quietly. “Even if your mind isn’t ready to accept it, your body already has.”

  Suddenly, the air-conditioned restaurant felt like a sauna. Charlotte felt a bead of sweat gather behind her ear and slowly slide down the side of her neck to her collarbone.

  “Okay, fine, Greg. You are an extremely attractive man. I would have to be blind not to see that over the last ten years, but I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready to make a transition like that with you. Just because I have a physical reaction to you, doesn’t mean that I have to act on it.”