Charmed (Death Escorts #2)(28)
Author: Cambria Hebert

“You look well, Frankie. I’ve been wondering what you’ve been up to.” He said the words casually, but I caught their underlying meaning.

“You know me,” I said. “Always planning something.”

His eyes narrowed.

The waitress brought over waters for everyone and then took our order. I pointed to the first thing I saw on the menu. The last thing I wanted to think about was food. Maybe I should just pretend I had an emergency and leave. When the waitress walked off, I laid my cell on the table, hoping that any kind of text would come through and I could play it off and go.

Charming reached across the table and snatched it away, sticking it into his trouser pocket. “No phones today, sis. We want your complete attention.”

That’s it. When I left this café, I was finding his car and slashing his tires.

“Brothers can be so annoying,” I said to Rosalyn and then rolled my eyes.

She laughed and her shoulders seemed to relax slightly. I really didn’t want to make her uncomfortable with all the undercurrents between Charming and me. I decided I was just going to ignore him.

“So what have you two been up to this morning?”

“Scouting venues for the fundraiser that Charming is helping me with. I’m sure he told you.”

“Actually, he didn’t.” Yes, I knew they were doing charity work together, but since then I tried to know as little as possible.

Rosalyn began explaining everything in great detail. I did my best to pretend I was interested and even asked a few questions here and there. But the truth was I could barely pay attention. I couldn’t think about anything with him sitting right there staring at me.

The waitress brought our food, thankfully giving me a moment to compose myself. ‘Course the minute she walked away, he had to open his mouth and speak.

“Are you on a diet?” he asked, looking at my salad.

“No. I like salad.” Okay, I didn’t really like salad.

“You look too thin.”

I tried not to gape. “I do not!”

“You look tired too. You have bags under your eyes.” He turned to Rosalyn. “Does she look tired to you?”

Rosalyn glanced at me. “I think you look beautiful but maybe a little tired.” She shrugged her shoulders apologetically.

“I’ve been busy,” I mumbled, then turned to Rosalyn. “Show me some of those places you were looking at.” I pointed to a stack of papers near her elbow.

I listened politely while she rattled on while I tried not to look at Charming. I couldn’t believe he would insult me like that. Okay, I could believe it, but it still made me mad.

A woman in a nearby booth laughed and Charming’s fork clattered against his plate. He looked up, his cheeks losing some of their color, staring in the direction of the laugh. I snuck a glance over my shoulder to see a young woman, with pale-blond hair, standing up from her seat. She looked over at Charming, a flash of something I didn’t understand in her eyes.

He made a sound, a faint one that no one else seemed to hear. But I heard. I watched as all the color left in his face completely drained away. His eyes never left the woman and as she began to walk away, he stood abruptly, knocking over his chair.

“Charming?” Rosalyn said, looking up from her papers.

“I think I see someone I know. I’ll be right back.” He didn’t give her a chance to reply but followed the woman, bumping into servers and pushing his way through the crowd. When she turned the corner toward the ladies’ room, he seemed desperate to catch up, desperate not to lose sight of her.

I saw his lips move, like he called out a name, but what he said I couldn’t hear. But the look on his face… it did something to me.

“Would you excuse me?” I said to Rosalyn. “I need to use the ladies’ room.”

“Of course.”

Charming was just outside the ladies’ room, leaning against the wall with his head down, looking utterly defeated, when I saw him.

“Charming?”

His head snapped up and he grabbed my arm. “She went in there.”

“Who? The girl with blond hair?”

He nodded. “Go in there and get her. Make her come out.”

Okay, this was weird. Even for him. “You want me to go in there and yank some stranger out here?”

“She isn’t a stranger,” he ground out. “Please.”

“Why didn’t you just go in after her?” I highly doubted he had a problem with storming the ladies’ bathroom.

He glanced back the way we came.

“Oh. Right. Wouldn’t want the Target to think you’re a weirdo.”

“Please,” he pleaded again.

There was something in his voice. Something that made me do what he asked. The inside of the bathroom wasn’t very large. There were only four stalls and four sinks. The first two stalls were empty; the last one had a little girl in it who was singing “Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star” at the top of her lungs. The stall in the center had its door closed, but I walked over to it anyway, prepared for the “someone’s in here!” so I could apologize and wait for her to come out.

But the stall was empty.

When my hand pushed on it, the door swung all the way open.

I glanced back at the only other stall with someone in it. Did that woman have a little girl with her that I hadn’t seen? I washed my hands at the sink until the little girl finished her song and they came out to wash her hands. I smiled at the mother through the mirror.

She had dark hair.

The blonde wasn’t in here.

Charming straightened away from the wall when I came out, his eyes searching all around me, hopeful for a glance at her face. When he realized I was alone, a flash of pain shot through his eyes, so real that I actually felt it.

“She wasn’t in there,” I said, my voice hushed.

The mother and daughter came out behind me and disappeared around the corner.

“You’re lying.” He snarled and pushed past me and rushed into the bathroom.

After several minutes, he still hadn’t come out, so I went in quietly behind him.

He was standing in the center, staring at an open window on the far side of the room. He didn’t say anything, not a word, when I stopped beside him.

There was something about his silence that was tangible. It wrapped around us both, pressing in until I couldn’t be silent anymore.

“What’s going on?”

“It’s him,” he said, almost like he was talking to himself. “He’s messing with me.”