“What do we do?” Charlotte asked.
Reece tucked her hair behind her ears. His thumb lingered at her jaw, sweeping across the sensitive skin there. “What do you want to do?”
She wanted to stay right here. She wanted to live in this hideous dorm and survive on vending machine snacks and have sex all night long. She wanted another day, another week, another month of reunion.
What would this look like in the real world? They couldn’t afford to fly back and forth to visit each other. She didn’t have a car, and she couldn’t ask him to drive from Missouri to New York. It wasn’t like she could relocate after one weekend together. Even if all of a sudden she wanted to.
She had a life in New York. She had a job, at least.
Reece waited for her to say something. Charlotte waited to know what to say.
She wanted to be with him, she just didn’t know how. It was like trying to solve a puzzle when critical pieces were missing.
Her phone twitched on the windowsill, a Slack notification chirping dimly. She ignored it, only for the phone to start vibrating on a continuous loop. Reece frowned as she stretched her arm out to retrieve it.
INCOMING CALL: ROGER LUDERMORE
Her heart climbed up her throat. “It’s my boss.” Charlotte dismissed the call before pulling up the sea of new notifications waiting for her.
SLACK MESSAGE FROM ROGER LUDERMORE TO CHARLOTTE THORNE, 8:17 AM: why are there no fucking ubers here
“Oh shit.” The blood drained from her face.
“What is it?” Reece asked.
She sat up and frantically typed a reply, her hands shaking.
SLACK MESSAGE FROM CHARLOTTE THORNE TO ROGER LUDERMORE, 8:18 AM: Aubrey was supposed to book a cab for you. I reminded her on Friday. The town doesn’t allow ride-sharing apps.
“Shit.” Charlotte scrambled over Reece’s legs and wobbled as her feet hit the floor. She yanked her shorts up her legs. “Shit, fuck, fuck.”
Reece scooted up to sit against the wall and watch as she dashed around the room. “Charlie, what’s wrong?”
SLACK MESSAGE FROM ROGER LUDERMORE TO CHARLOTTE THORNE, 8:20 AM: get me to campus
She hammered out a text on her phone.
TEXT MESSAGE FROM CHARLOTTE THORNE TO JACKIE SLAUGHTER, 8:20 AM: SOS are you awake?? Need to pick up Roger!!
“Charlie?” Reece prodded her again.
She huffed as she scrolled through her email inbox. There. She really had forwarded Aubrey the email about travel logistics. She’d told her assistant to book the cab, she just didn’t have confirmation that Aubrey did it. Charlotte never double-checked because she shouldn’t have had to.
“Roger is stranded at the train station.” Charlotte waited for Jackie to reply, but her text message hadn’t even delivered. Her best friend’s cell phone must be dead again.
Reece winced as his feet met the cold linoleum floor. “Can’t he find his own way here? He’s an adult.”
She laughed sharply. “You would think so, but no.” Charlotte raced to the mirror to check her hair. She frowned at the ratty mess around her shoulders. “Do you have a rubber band or anything?”
Reece pointed to his desk, where a band held a bag of potato chips closed. “Thank you!” She pulled it off and forced her curls into a bun at the back of her neck. “God, I’m a mess.”
“You look gorgeous,” he said, but her face was buried in her phone again.
SLACK MESSAGE FROM ROGER LUDERMORE TO CHARLOTTE THORNE, 8:25 AM: this is unacceptable
Charlotte barely had fingernails left to chew on. “Hey, Reece?”
He raised an eyebrow at her plaintive tone. “Yes?”
“Can you give a girl a ride?”
—
As Reece sped down Route One, Charlotte grabbed empty Gatorade bottles from the back seat and dumped them into a plastic bag. The train station wasn’t far from Hein’s campus. She had maybe ten minutes to make the car presentable before Roger ruined her weekend. Not to mention the longer they left her boss waiting, the ruder he would be.
“I owe you big-time,” she yelled over the wind roaring through the open windows. Roger had a thing about smells, and the odor of Misty’s wet fur clung to the fabric seats.
“You owe me breakfast.” Bulky sunglasses hid Reece’s bloodshot eyes. “I’m talking large coffee, waffles, bacon, everything.”
“Whatever you want.” She climbed over the console and into the front seat. “He’s going to talk shit about my outfit.” She folded down the mirror and smoothed some flyaway strands back from her face. Charlotte didn’t have anything to hide her exhaustion, but Roger would just have to deal with her lackluster appearance. “He won’t be able to help himself.”
“It’s your college reunion,” Reece said. “Does he really expect you to be dressed up?”
She licked her thumb and ran it under her eyes to catch last night’s mascara. “To him it’s a business trip, not a reunion.”
“I can’t wait to meet this charmer,” Reece continued. Even running on three hours of sleep, he still radiated cheerfulness. “Should I call him Roger?”
“No. Call him Mr. Ludermore.” She winced. “Actually, better to ignore him.”
