6. Charleigh

SIX

CHARLEIGH

SEVENTEEN YEARS OLD

"Mom, it's fine." She tried to duck out from where her mother was fiddling with her braid from behind. Her mother watched her through the mirror with an anxious expression on her face.

"I know. This is just a big deal for your father. I want to make sure everything is perfect. It's not every day the big boss comes to your house for dinner."

Her mother had been fretting the entire day. The whole week really.

Frederick Winston was coming here.

"Dad's going to do fine," she said, smiling at her mother through the mirror. "He already has this promotion in the bag."

"I hope so, that is if I don't burn the chicken." Her mother gave a soft, ribbing tease at her own expense.

She wasn't known to be the best cook.

"It'll be perfect."

"You're perfect," her mother whispered, then she sighed out her affection as she held her by the outside of the shoulders. "Look how pretty you are in this dress. I can't believe how grown up you are. My sweet wallflower in full bloom."

Shyness splashed her cheeks, but still, she gazed at her own reflection, feeling that way in the floral knee-length sundress.

She had always preferred hiding in the corner of the library with a book, wearing an oversized sweater with her nose stuffed in the pages of a young adult fantasy, rather than having to sit at a big table with her father and his boss and carry on a conversation.

But it was important to her father, to her mother, to their family.

Her father had worked hard for this, and she was truly proud of him, so she'd be happy to do it for him.

But she didn't know…she didn't know.

None of them did.

"That was delicious." Frederick Winston rocked back in his chair where he sat at the head of the table sipping from a glass of the expensive red wine that her father had brought home that afternoon.

Her mother glowed. "Oh, well, thank you. It really wasn't a big deal. And Sweet Pea helped."

All eyes turned to her as her mother said it.

She fought the urge to crawl under the table and hide.

"I don't often get home-cooked meals, so it was a treat," Frederick Winston said, turning back to her mother.

"It was my pleasure to host."

"The pleasure is mine. It's great to spend time with you this way. Outside of the office." Mr. Winston lifted his wine glass, tipping it toward her father.

Her father adjusted his tie. "I'm grateful for the opportunity."

It was clear they were beginning to shift the conversation toward work, and her mother cleared her throat as she stood. "Let me get the table cleared so you two can talk. I'll bring out dessert in a minute."

She bit back the annoyance because that part seemed a little patriarchal to her, but she stood to help her mother, anyway, clearing the dishes from the table and carrying them through the swinging door that led into the kitchen.

Her mother released a ragged breath behind her. "How do you think it went?"

"Great," she told her, meaning it, because it truly had. Her mom had pulled off that stuffed chicken in a big way, and Mr. Winston had genuinely seemed pleased, engaged in conversation with all of them.

She had to give Mr. Winston credit since he'd taken the time to ask her questions about her goals for the future and had actually seemed interested.

"Really great. I'm sure he's offering Dad the promotion as we speak."

"God, I hope so. We need this. You're going to be going to college soon, and the raise would definitely help."

She playfully rolled her eyes as she set the pile of dishes into the sink. "You realize I will get a full ride, don't you?"

Her mother squeezed her shoulder. "I know, my smarty pants, I just want to make sure you have options."

"It's going to be great, Mom. Whatever happens. Why don't you take dessert out to them, and I'll do the dishes?"

A frown marred her mother's brow. "You don't have to do that."

"I want to."

"I don't know what I did to deserve you."

"I guess I'm just a gift," she teased.

Her mother swatted at her before her smile softened in sincerity, and she reached out and touched her cheek. "That's exactly what you are. A gift, my Sweet Pea."

Her parents had called her that since she could remember, and she doubted she would ever outgrow the nickname.

Her mother grabbed the cake she'd placed on a stemmed crystal platter and drifted back out the swinging doors, and she turned her focus on the dishes, loading them into the dishwasher and wiping down the counters, before she took the exit out into the hall that would wind her back to the stairs .

Only she stalled in the hall when Frederick Winston stepped out from the guest restroom. A casual smile was on his face when he saw her, though there was something about it that left her uneasy.

Boxed in the hallway with him like this.

"Where have you been hiding?" He gave her one of his big smiles, his teeth white and straight.

She swallowed around the nerves that suddenly thickened her throat. "I just finished the dishes, and I have some studying I need to do, so I was going to head upstairs."

His blue eyes appraised, and disquiet skittered through her nerves as his gaze drifted down her front. "That doesn't surprise me. You seem to have your future laid out in front of you. Quite the goal to go pre-med."

She nodded as a ripple of unrest flitted through her body. "I'm going to explore it, at least."

His head angled, a little too deeply. "I admire that, but it's people like you my company needs. Young adults who are smart and talented and driven. Why don't you come intern for me over the summer and explore that as an option?"

A frown pulled tight across her brow. "I don't?—"

"I'm sure it would look good for your father to have his daughter be such an asset to the company."

She felt his words like a trap.

An indirect threat because she knew exactly what he was implying. As if her interning should have any bearing on her father receiving the promotion.

Still, the refusal got stuck in her throat, and at her silence, he nonchalantly stuffed his hands into his suit pockets.

"What could it hurt?" He took a step back, not waiting for her answer when he said, "I'll let your father know the good news." He paused for one moment as he rocked back on his heels, his smile shifting to a smirk as he winked. "Sweet Pea."