All Summer Long (Fool's Gold #9)(54)

Charlie knew he was protecting her, which she appreciated. The words had just enough truth that Dominique might believe them, without going over the top. Had he gone on and on about her beauty, they all would have known he was lying. But this was different.

Dominique glanced between them. “How interesting,” she said, her chin coming up. “If what you say is true, I must be in the way. If you’ll excuse me?”

She rose with a fluid grace that spoke to her years of dance, then glided away without looking back. Charlie felt the first whispers of guilt, but quieted them.

“You didn’t have to do that,” she said when they were alone.

“I wanted to.” He reached for another cookie. “You really do take after your dad.”

“Mostly. Although she was the tough one, so I get that from her.”

“She’s lonely.”

“Don’t say that.”

“Why not? It’s true.”

“Because I don’t want to have to feel bad for her. She bugs me. Ever since I was a little kid, the whole world had to rotate around her. My birthday parties were scheduled around her performances. If she was tired, we had to be quiet. When I was seven, she told me to stop growing. That if I got too big, I would never find a man. She resented my dad for caring about me and when I told her about the rape, she didn’t believe me. She said I was wrong to lead a boy on and she hoped I’d learned my lesson.”

Clay shifted so he was sitting across from her. He took both her hands in his. She tried to pull away, but he wouldn’t let her.

“Look at me,” he commanded.

She did, her gaze locked with his.

“You’re not that girl,” he told her. “You’re strong. You can take care of yourself. So it’s okay to trust people again, Charlie. You have the experience to recognize a jerk now. You didn’t before, but you’ve grown up. You have friends and a community. You’re not alone. You made those choices—no one else. Be proud of yourself.”

“I am,” she murmured. “Mostly.”

“Your mom really is lonely.”

She winced. “Don’t make me feel sorry for her. I like it better when I’m slightly annoyed and she’s four thousand miles away.”

“She’s family.”

“Want to trade?”

“She came here for a reason.”

“Yes. She wants to be worshipped. She’s getting older and the legions of fans have lessened.”

Charlie remembered what her mother had said about the colon cancer. How she’d been in the hospital on her own, wondering if she would die.

“Okay,” she admitted. “Maybe there’s a little more to it than that.”

“I’m not saying you have to be best friends.”

“I wouldn’t listen if you were.”

“I’m saying, she’s your mother. There’s no escape. So try to figure out a way to make it better for you.”

“Aside from buying her a plane ticket to Beijing? I hear it’s lovely this time of year.”

“My Charlie doesn’t run from her troubles.”

My Charlie?

Her heart gave a little stutter. He didn’t mean that, she told herself. Not in any way that wasn’t friendship based. They were buddies. Buddies who had seen each other naked. She wasn’t looking for love; she was looking for sex and the healing that would follow.

“I’m not running,” she told him. “I’m complaining. There’s a difference.”

* * *

“THERE IS no way in hell.”

Dante stared at the sign by the door. The office space Rafe had rented was on the bottom floor of an older building, with more businesses upstairs. Clay followed the other man’s gaze, read the sign and did his best not to laugh.

Dante swung toward him. “Did you know about this?”

“No.”

Dante swore. “Was this the only place in town? I don’t think so. Rafe did this on purpose. While he’s off in Paris on his honeymoon, I’m supposed to get our office set up here? I’m going to kill him. I’m a lawyer. I can keep myself out of jail.”

Clay grinned. Rafe and Dante’s company’s temporary location was right under The Fool’s Gold School of Dance.

“Maybe it won’t be so bad,” he offered.

Dante glared at him. “Not bad? Children dancing above my head? Those wood shoe dances and tap and God knows what? The music playing the same damn song over and over again?” He turned his attention back to the building. “This place was built in the forties. I doubt they’d even heard of soundproofing back then. Did I say I was going to kill him, because I am.”

Clay slapped him on the back. “Come on. I’ll buy you a cup of coffee while you plot your revenge.”

Dante swore again, then followed Clay to the Starbucks.

After they had their coffees, they sat outside. Dante scowled at the people passing by.

“Have you noticed how damn happy everyone is here?” he asked. “It’s not natural.”

“It’s small-town America,” Clay reminded him. “What’s not to like?”

“Everything. I miss the city.”

“You don’t want anyone to know your name?”