Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 64948 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 325(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64948 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 325(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
Chapter 6
Charlie
Adele's chocolate shop is gorgeous and tasteful, much like Adele herself. My beautiful friend is in one of her gorgeous outfits she wears so well—a silk blouse, and gray wool pencil skirt. She adds an apron when she cooks, but otherwise looks like a billion bucks. Like the CEO of a Swiss bank or a fashion company or something.
I'm in one of my t-shirts, a simple black one with the funny saying covered up by a pink and white apron. My boobs are swollen today, and the shirt feels a little tight. I’ve been volunteering at The Chocolatier to help Adele get ready for the holiday rush. Tabitha has also been putting in regular days, but had a jewelry show to visit today. Without her, the shop is quiet.
Which is good. Gives Adele and me time to talk in between customers. The strain I first noticed at my birthday dinner still pinches her forehead. The circles under her eyes are deeper, and her pale brown skin is a little less glowy.
“So what's really going on with you?” I finally blurt when the shop empties.
Adele raises a slim brow but keeps rearranging the specialty bags of pralines. “So what happened with that boy of yours? Mr. One-Night-Stand?” she volleys back.
I bite my lip. So that’s how it’s gonna be. Tit for tat. An equal exchange of information. “We hooked up.”
“And you didn’t tell me?” Adele straightens and leans on the counter. “How was it?”
“It was good.” A flush works its way up my neck. “Really good.”
“And you didn’t tell me, why?”
I shrug. “Didn’t want to make a big thing of it. I had fun. And then we hooked up again.”
“I beg your pardon.” Adele cups her ear. “Did you just say Mr. One-Night-Stand wanted another night?”
“I know, right?” The heat of the flush reaches my cheeks. “Who'da thunk?”
“Maybe the right woman will make him change his ways.” She goes back to the pralines but lifts her head when I’m silent.
“Um, yeah, he actually wants to see me again. I think… he wants more. With me. I don’t know what to do.”
“And I’m just now hearing about this?” Now Adele’s hands are on her hips. I’m in trouble.
“It was supposed to be a one-night stand!” I drop my head on the counter. “I didn’t want to tell anyone because then it would feel too real.”
“But he wants more.”
“Yes,” I groan.
“And you don’t?”
“I… I don’t know. The sex was great. I just… don’t know if I can do it, you know? I mean, I’m at the age where I need to be looking for a life partner. Lance probably doesn’t even know how to do taxes.”
Adele blinks. “And that matters why?”
“No reason,” I mumble. “I just thought it would be nice to marry someone who could also do our taxes.”
“Well, maybe it's not so bad,” Adele says slowly. “Have you asked him his opinion of farming cacti? Or ficus?”
When I raise my head, I catch the ghost of a smile on her face. “You're laughing at me,” I grumble.
“Charlie, my Mémère had a saying: We plan, God laughs. I know you want life to unfold the way you imagined, but…”
“I know,” I groan. “I know. I just wanted more stability for my life. Especially because I want kids.” What would it be like to have kids with Lance? Immediately I imagine a gaggle of tow-headed kids, running circles around me. Forget it, logic intervenes. Lance would run in the opposite direction from any responsibility.
“All right,” I say, heading around the counter so I can help stack bags of pralines on their display. “Your turn. I spilled my secret, now you spill yours.”
“Fine.” Adele sighs, accepting my abrupt change of subject. “It's Bing.”
“Your business partner?” I wrinkle my nose. I've never met Bing officially but I've seen him around. He's a trustafarian—a particular type of Taos resident. No job; just a trust fund and rich parents, and a tendency to smoke pot and wear Bob Marley shirts. I don't know any trustafarians very well, because patchouli oil, especially when worn in place of deodorant, makes my eyes water.
“I think he's taking money from our account,” Adele says. “I was supposed to pay rent last week. This is the third month in a row that I had it in the account and it disappeared. Before I could pay the landlord.”
“Oh my God.” My head spins. “Were you able to pay the rent?” This is prime real estate in Taos, right on the main tourist drag, near enough to the plaza that The Chocolatier gets foot traffic. Adele doesn't have to do much advertising but her rent is probably high.
“I paid it.” Adele waves a hand. “I had to pull it from my own savings. And this is the third time.”
I feel a little sick. “Adele, Bing is stealing from you.”