This Is Not How It Ends(53)

“Maybe you should explain his history before you throw them together,” I offered.

“Charley,” he said, clutching my hand in his. “Don’t overthink. Goose is a real catch. Any woman would be lucky to have him as her beau. We, of all people, should help him be happy again.”



Ben hadn’t wanted to meet Claudia at the restaurant. “Not here. Anywhere but here.” It was remarkable he even agreed to the setup in the first place. Firm refusals cluttered our conversations. A steely politeness was tough to draw back.

But once Philip got Ben to agree, Ben had no control over the where and when of the tryst. “Goose,” Philip said, “meeting at the restaurant is best. You’ll be far more relaxed in case you’re needed, and if you don’t like her, you can always say there’s trouble in the kitchen. Trust me, though. You’re going to love her.” I cringed when he said “love.”

Claudia arrived at the house first. She was polished and perfect in skinny jeans and an off-the shoulder white peasant top. In flip-flops, she was even shorter than I remembered, but her friendly personality made her taller. Philip fixed her a drink, and we moved to the patio.

It was a breezy night, which pushed some of the humidity away. Clouds passed overhead, and it looked like it might rain. In the Keys, you could never be sure. As quickly as the clouds rolled in, they crept out to sea.

Claudia complimented our home, and when Philip went inside to take a phone call, she cornered me with Ben questions. I heard myself describing him. The soulful green eyes. The sexy brown hair. It probably seemed as though I was playing him up for her, but really I was describing what I knew. I decided to tell her he was a widower, because it was a way to protect Ben. “He may be a little quiet at first. He’s sometimes moody like that. That’s Ben.”

“How long?” she asked. “How long has he been alone?”

“A few years.”

This news surprised her, and a twinge of sadness filled her eyes.

“He has a son.”

She shifted from one leg to the other. “Whoa. Philip neglected to fill me in.”

I told her, candidly, “He’s a good guy. It’s a lot to take in, I know.”

I was a horrible person, judging her mixed emotions while praising myself for my tiny feat. I didn’t dislike Claudia. In fact, I liked her quite a bit. She was sharp and witty and easy to talk to. I was taking in all these positive attributes when Ben walked through the door.

“Holy fuck, he’s hot,” Claudia whispered as he approached.

“Ben.” I sucked in my breath as he leaned in to kiss both my cheeks. Philip joined my side, and he was the one who introduced Ben to Claudia. He was the one who went on and on about how “these two were destined to meet.”

Ben smiled at Claudia, appraising her with his eyes. I hated myself for every thought that invaded my headspace. I took a swig of wine and pursed my eyes shut so as not to see the way they admired each other through pleasantries. When I opened them, Ben was glaring at me.

“A toast,” Philip said, holding his glass up. “A toast to new friends. And to love.” When he said this, a single arm draped across my back. “And may I wake up each morning to this beautiful gift beside me.” Before I considered the irony, we took a collective drink.



Our table at Morada Bay was waiting for us, and Ben was unusually friendly. Gone was the worry about his staff handling matters for the night. He was at ease, and nowhere was the moody brooder I described earlier. Claudia was smitten and it showed. The conversation drifted from their childhoods in New Jersey to Ben’s cooking secrets (Claudia loved to cook) and finally, Claudia’s work. Ben was mesmerized. Not only was she attractive, but when she spoke of her cases, anyone would be impressed.

The closer the two became, the closer I moved toward Philip. Our hands were joined on the table, and I studied the diamond. Claudia followed my gaze, asking if we had set a date. I nudged Philip. “Hopefully soon,” I said. “Get those contracts done quicker.”

“Charlotte,” she said, “you’re going to make a beautiful bride. You should hear the way Philip raves about you. He’s the ultimate romantic.”

“Don’t give away all my secrets, Claudia.”

“It’s hard to be apart, yes?” she said.

Philip’s arm felt like a weight against my shoulders. “Claudia, darling,” he joked, “don’t get her started. I’m already in the doghouse for this year’s travel.”

Ben was looking at me, and I refused to look back. “I keep myself busy,” I said. “You get used to it.”

“That’s not something I’d ever want to get used to,” she said, oblivious to her mistake.

The food that I couldn’t bring myself to eat arrived at the table. While I was present, I was far, far away. I was back on Little Palm Island, resting in a hammock without a care in the world. Philip loved, and Ben listened. There was a distinction I was just beginning to understand.

I had no right being angry or jealous, when Ben was doing what he had to do. But I was. And I didn’t like myself for it. My fork twirled the food around the plate, and it was a struggle to reach my mouth. Ben was alternating between me and Claudia, and I was focused on Philip. He had hardly touched his food either. “You’re not eating.”