The Charm Offensive(39)
She tosses him a mini bottle. “You look like an Indian, Growing Pains–era Leo.”
“I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
Charlie settles on periwinkle shorts and a cream-colored chambray with little flowers stitched into the fabric. Jules snorts. “Charles, you look like a stockbroker vacationing in Martha’s Vineyard, as always.”
“Well, you look very beautiful,” Charlie says with the same sincerity.
His earnestness seems to dissolve some of her usual cynicism. Jules shyly looks down at her feet. “Thanks, Charlie.”
Something unpleasant in Dev’s chest, but he swallows it down with vodka, puts on a smile. “Shall we?”
Charlie
There’s an undercurrent of panic beneath his skin—a tiny, nagging voice that says, Maybe this isn’t a good idea. Maybe don’t get drunk with Dev tonight. But the voice is buried beneath an overwhelming thrum of anticipation as Jules leads them out of the hotel and into the chaos of the French Quarter.
It’s all the things he usually hates: too many people, too many smells, too much noise. But for some reason, all Charlie can see and smell and hear is Dev. Dev laughing at something Jules says; the smell of hotel shampoo as Dev brushes against him, pulling them along toward the bar where they’re meeting Skylar; Dev strutting around, wearing Charlie’s clothes. The sight of Dev in his oversize jean jacket makes Charlie feel… something he can’t quite name.
It takes them an hour to walk three blocks because Jules wants to eat at every food stand, and Dev wants to talk to every stranger, and Charlie wants to read every historical plaque. When they finally meet up with Skylar outside a gay bar, she looks nothing like her usual high-strung-director self, and every bit like a happy fortysomething woman. She hugs Jules and Dev, shakes Charlie’s hand in greeting, and then they’re all stuffing themselves around a tiny table, knees banging together. “We are getting belligerent tonight, yes?” Skylar asks with a formal air.
“Indubitably,” Jules agrees.
Charlie doesn’t say anything. He watches Dev press the pad of his thumb against his bottom lip. Charlie imagines his thumb, Dev’s lip, and the gentle pressure it would take to coax his mouth open. He’s losing it a bit, and they haven’t even started drinking.
“Can we get four of your house margaritas and a round of tequila shots?” Dev asks the server.
Jules rubs her hands together, getting down to business. “Okay, Dev. Let’s find you a man.”
Charlie’s stomach folds in half.
“A man?” Skylar asks.
“Dev is finally ready for his post-Ryan rebound. We are on the prowl for a one-night-stand candidate. Oh, how about that Joe Alwyn–looking dude by the bar?”
The server deposits the drinks on the table. Charlie doesn’t reach for his shot. He was stupid, so stupid to think Dev might—
“A one-night stand? Dev?” Skylar snorts after she’s thrown back both her own shot and Charlie’s. “Mr. Happily Ever After? I doubt it.”
Dev is immediately defensive. “There is nothing wrong with believing in happy endings.”
“Isn’t there, though, when statistically, you know half of those endings are actually divorce?” Jules sucks on a lime. “Shouldn’t orchestrating love stories for our crappy show spoil the magic for you a bit?”
“No! Never!” Dev is ridiculously cute when he’s passionate. Charlie stares down at his coaster. “Look, I know in real life relationships are complicated, but on our show they’re not. It’s as simple as two people liking each other enough to try. And then we put them on a boat in St. Thomas, and they fall in love, because who can resist falling in love on a boat?”
Skylar snorts again, but Dev plows on. “The situations are dramatized, sure, and the emotions are heightened to the point of absurdity for ratings, and in most cases, people don’t fall in love in two months. But sometimes they do! Sometimes, you meet someone, and you just know. That happens on our show two seasons per year! How is that not magic?”
Skylar grins. “Tell me again how you’re looking for a one-night stand?”
Dev flips her off across the table. “Charlie, why aren’t you drinking?”
He wasn’t ready for anyone to address him, so he stumbles through some vowel sounds in response to Dev’s question.
Dev puts a hand on Charlie’s knee under the table and leans in close. “Let go a little. You’re safe with us.”
He doesn’t feel safe. He feels exposed and ridiculous, even though no one knows how profoundly disappointed he is. And it’s all so silly, because of course Dev wanted to go out tonight so he could flirt with other men. Whatever weird friendship they’ve formed is friendship at best, and Dev being damn good at his job at worst. When this is over, they won’t stay in contact. Dev will be busy prepping the next princess and Charlie will hopefully be busy with his new job. Too busy to think about repressed feelings or Dev’s mouth.
Besides, Charlie wants Dev to find someone else. Maybe if he sees Dev with someone else, he’ll stop picturing Dev with him.
Dev’s hand is still on Charlie’s knee when he flags down the server again. More shots land on the table. Dev’s fingers fall away. “Charlie, can I see your hand for a minute?”