“No.” Matthew reached out and gripped her arm, tugging her a little nearer so they wouldn’t have to shout. “I came here alone.”
Feeling her cheeks heat, Charlie stared at Matthew’s askew tie. “In a suit…”
“In a suit, Charlotte.”
Vaguely aware she sounded ridiculous, she stopped her mouth, glancing up shyly. Those pale eyes were waiting for her—eyes she’d stared at enough times to know they were the faintest shade of green and downright pretty against his tan skin.
The hand on her arm began to stroke a slow steady path from shoulder to elbow that soothed her irritation, and left a trail of soft tingles in its wake. “I’ll wait right here. When your dinner’s over, I’ll escort you to your door.”
Nodding mutely, Charlie found her eyes drawn to his mouth, hoping for a taste of the whiskey and sweet cigar she smelled on his breath.
A deep rumble came from the male towering over her. “Best get back to your supper now.”
Snapped out of her fancy, Charlie almost stumbled as she backed away, turning around as ordered and gliding right back to her table.
Dinner arrived, and while her party ate, Martha dominated the conversation. “Have you found yourself a man, Charlotte?”
“No, ma’am, I’m a spinster,” Charlie answered plainly. “I can’t cook, or sew—don’t know a thing about babies.”
Martha gave her a secret smile. “A good man won’t really care about the trivial skills, so long as you work hard in other areas.”
Fighting the urge to glance over her shoulder to where Matthew stood at the bar, Charlie blushed, knowing full well what Martha was alluding to.
Brown eyes sparkled, the woman just as much trouble as her kingpin husband. “You look mighty fine sitting next to Tommy. The two of you make quite the handsome pair.”
Setting down her fork, Charlie met Martha’s eyes and was blunt as could be. “Don’t go putting any fool ideas into his head, Martha. I am fully aware of the reputation the man sitting at my side carries.” Her attention darted to Tommy, noting his cocky smirk. “Seen him many times over the years with his menagerie of women.”
“But not one of them were near as pretty as you,” Tommy cooed, daring to press a teasing kiss to her cheek.
“Tommy.” Charlie ground her teeth, glaring right at the mobster. “I do have a gun in my purse.”
Beaumont burst out laughing, his hand smacking the table. “Boy, you’re gonna have to try a lot harder if you want to catch my Blackbird’s eye.”
From the expression on Tommy’s face, he seemed more than willing to rise to the challenge. But, wisely, he mellowed the flirting; Charlie stopped glaring and conversation grew natural once more.
When the meal was over and the bottle of champagne empty, it was hard not to find easy comfort in what felt familiar. The talk, the city, old comrades… a small part of Charlie almost wished she’d told Beau she’d stay. As if Martha could read her mind, she took Charlie’s hand when they walked from the table, asking the blonde girl to swear she’d come back to town for Christmas. In the lobby, engulfed in the tight embrace of Martha’s mink draped arms, Charlie made a promise to do just that.
Watching the women have their overlong moment, Radcliffe blew out a fresh puff of smoke. “You better wrap it up before your guard dog starts to growl, Lottie.”
Pulling away from Martha, Charlie was confused. “Guard dog?”
Beaumont cocked his chin, signaling she might want to take a look behind her.
Matthew was there, leaning on a distant pillar, making his presence known.
Another puff of smoke. “Looks like you’ve got some competition after all, Tommy.” After a kiss on her cheek, Beaumont murmured, “Don’t answer the door should anyone come knocking tonight.”
Charlie understood perfectly and nodded.
The Radcliffe contingent left, Charlie waving a final goodbye. Feeling a growing sense that the world might not be so bad, Charlie turned around and saw Matthew still waiting… for her. There he was, straightening from where he leaned, looking grand in that new suit. It all seemed so unreal, so dreamlike, that when a raven-haired beauty slunk up, linking her arm through Matthew’s, Charlie almost tripped as if jolted awake.
Alice… that pretty face and glorious dark hair were unforgettable.
“There you are.” A smile of familiarity, of fondness, came from the woman petting Matthew softly. “Ready to get that cup of coffee?”
Of course Matthew had come to see his sweetheart. Charlie felt utterly duped. She’d been deluding herself entertaining the idea for even a moment that a man like him would want her.
Working hard to keep the congenial smile pasted on her face, Charlie nodded her understanding and turned a bit too fast towards the elevators.