Chapter Thirty-Six

Charlotte

The idea had come while I was sitting in the jail cell. It was simple really. I had all the know-how one needed to run a hotel. I could handle the operation from top to bottom. From how the rooms should be decorated and set up to cleaned and turned over, from rates and amenities to how to play the delicate game of guest Tetris that presented itself on the regular. From how to spruce up an old building to how to start from absolute scratch and oversee the construction and building of a brand new one, all of it. I had done it all.

So why wouldn’t I be able to handle a hotel of my own?

I hadn’t signed any kind of non-compete clause with Bethel hotels, primarily because I had been promoted from within rather than hired from outside. There was nothing legally stopping me from applying my knowledge and experience to building something new. Besides, it wasn’t like they were planning on expanding in West Texas anytime soon. Arizona and New Mexico, and eventually Southern California, sure, but not West Texas. It was a dead area for them.

But I knew West Texas. It was home. I could work here, could thrive here. I knew what the customer base wanted and needed, and without the pressure of having to try and appeal to high- end clients, I could focus on making a more functional, almost commercial place.

The real kicker was the venue. I could do all the hotel stuff in my sleep, having opened over a dozen hotels for Bethel and acting as the general and then regional manager over them. I knew the ins and outs better than anyone one else. But a venue was something this area of the state desperately needed. National acts had nowhere to come to, and local acts had nowhere to aspire to. Building something here meant we could draw crowds from all over the region and be something unique.

On top of that, I happened to know some people who knew a thing or two about event promotion.

Flynn would be the perfect mind to pick. Having only barely met him, I could tell the type of person he was already. A motivated self-starter, if I could convince him to take the lead on promoting the space, I could fill it with acts regularly, and give the hotel and the surrounding area a draw beyond a place to stop between Dallas and Juarez.

It would also be a chance to give Jesse somewhere his band could play regularly. Almost like Vegas, where acts would do shows for years, Jesse could have a standing spot and perform whatever he wanted with regularity. It would give him some stability, give the area a homegrown act to draw people in, and give us both a chance to see each other more often.

All this had settled in my mind while I sat in that jail cell, and now, as I sat on the bed with Jesse, finishing my sandwiches, I started to lay it all out. As I spoke, I grew more and more excited, and he grinned wider and wider. He seemed to like seeing me so stoked about the idea and occasionally peppered my rant with ideas of his own.

“What about construction?” he asked. “If we have to build something from scratch, that’s a huge investment. Plus, there’s all the red tape to go through.”

“I have a savings account that I’ve been putting money into since I was a kid,” I said. “I’ve made really good money the last couple of years. And I’ve met a lot of investors too, who would come and stay for long periods of time. I might be able to call on a few of them. But even without them, I think I can convince a bank to give me the business loan based on my experience and what I can put down of my own capital.”

“The Galloways will invest too,” he said. “Obviously, I’ll have to talk to the brothers, but Collin has been looking for something to invest in locally that he can diversify with. This seems like it’s right up his alley.”

I nodded. “If you guys want to invest, obviously, that will help. I can’t imagine that together we won’t be able to at least get the starting funds. This is a real idea. This could really happen.”

“All right,” he said, finishing one of the delicious pickles and taking a sip of the root beer. “So if you really want to do this, I am fully supportive. But I have one major concern.”

“Okay,” I said. “Go ahead.”

“I am just worried about you quitting the job that I know you love,” he said. “You’ve been working there for over a decade, and as you said, you worked your way up from cleaning rooms and working the desk to being a regional manager and handling all these locations at once. You’re a rockstar in that company, and I worry that you will be throwing away all that work to do something that you think will make our relationship stronger.”

“Jesse…”

“No, really. I don’t want you to do this because of me. I will find a way to see you as much as I can. We will make this relationship work. No matter what. I love you.”

“And I love you,” I said, my skin tingling as I said those words.

A small, quiet moment passed as we both seemed to register those words being said, honoring them by giving the moment time to breathe. Then, as if to punctuate it, he leaned forward, and I met him more than halfway with a soft but firm kiss.

“As I was saying,” he said, seeming to need a moment to recover and remember where he was, “we can make this thing work. We can find a way. But I don’t want that to be you quitting your job and starting something because you think that’s the only way, or because it’s what I want.”

“It isn’t,” I said. “Look, while I was sitting in that cell, I don’t know how to explain it, but, when I was sitting there, it was like a lightbulb went off in my head. A dozen lightbulbs in fact. All the lightbulbs.”

“Very bright,” he joked.

“Yes,” I said. “It was.”

“Pickle?”

“Yes,” I said, taking another pickle and chomping on it.

“Go on.”

“Right. So all these lightbulbs went off, and I realized I’d been doing the safe thing all my life. I’d been a good girl, doing good girl things forever. The only times I didn’t were with you. And you know what? Those were the only times I ever felt good. The only times I ever felt alive.

I realized that I spent so much time trying not to be my father, trying not to make mistakes and doing the safe things, that I hadn’t really lived. I’d thrown myself into work and kept my nose to the ground and not enjoyed anything life had to offer if it wasn’t a five-minute break and then getting right back to it. So I decided that I was done with that. I wanted to enjoy life like you do. I wanted to live life like you do.”

“Maybe not entirely like I do. I think I might need a dose of your nose to the ground-ness, honestly. I’m kind of tired of going to jail and being beaten half to death.”

“Well, yes, there is a balance,” I said. “But the thing is, I want to find that balance. I don’t want to live the life of a goody-two-shoes anymore. I want to enjoy what life has to offer. I want to take a ride on the Jesse James train and see where it takes me.”

He grinned. “As much as I like the wording of you taking that ride, I just want to make sure you know it isn’t always a smooth one. Things can get a little crazy.”

“You mean like you almost getting killed and me punching Trish Anderson in the nose so I could spend a few hours in jail?”

“Well… yeah. Actually, yeah, that’s about it.”

I smiled. “I think I’ve already bought my ticket and boarded, Jesse.”

“Fair enough,” he said. “You really hit her?”

“I did.”

“How did that feel?”

“It felt incredible ,” I laughed. “Honestly, I’ve never hit anyone before. Besides slapping Tamara one time, and I felt horrible about that. We were just kids, and she kicked me in the shin and I turned around and smacked her. She cried so hard, and I felt like the worst sister ever.”

“Lord, me and my brothers have had way worse tiffs than that. One time, Logan folded Collin into a pretzel so bad that it broke his wrist, and Collin got him back a year later by knocking him out cold when Logan said something Collin didn’t like about Mom.”

“Wait, how old were they?”

“Collin was thirty,” he laughed. “Cowboys can get rough, Charlotte.”

“I see that,” she laughed.

“So no more April Garafalo?”

I shook my head.

“No, I’m afraid she has retired,” I said. “She was a good egg, but I don’t need her around anymore. She was the representation of everything I was running away from. She was me, but not me. Me trying to be this person I never really wanted to be in the first place. But now, now I can just be Charlotte. Charlotte Garafalo. Jesse’s girlfriend.”

“I like the sound of that,” he said.

“Me too.”

“You know something?”

“What’s that?”

“I have to admit, the idea of you thumping Trish… it’s kind of hot.”

It was my turn to put on a devious grin.

“Well, there might be more of that kind of aggressiveness ahead. I hope you’re ready for that.”

“I am absolutely ready for that,” he laughed. “Just… I might need a few days. I’m kind of almost dead.”

“I’ll be gentle. At first.”

Smiling, I leaned in and kissed him once more.