Be Our Ghost, page 20
part #1 of The Duchess Hotel #2 Series
As he sat beside her, he caught a whiff of her signature scent. A light, floral fragrance with a hint of jasmine, the same one she’d worn when they were together. Despite his unease at meeting with her, the familiarity made him smile. “Good morning, Lila.”
“Hi, Knox. Thanks for coming.” Her voice was as soft and melodious as ever, all the rough edges smoothed out.
He still wasn’t sure why she’d asked to meet him, but he wanted to get his apology out of the way. “I’m sorry about last night. I wasn’t trying to sabotage anything. I just wanted to…”
To what? Torment himself? Make things worse? He’d succeeded on both counts.
She placed her hand on his thigh. “You don’t have to apologize. I’m the one who should be sorry. Not just for last night, but for all of it.”
He froze, so taken aback he couldn’t form a response. Back when he’d blown up at her and Evan, she’d apologized profusely, explaining how she’d never intended to hurt him. But Evan hadn’t reacted the same way. Not once had that fucker ever said he was sorry.
“Knox?” she asked. “Please say something.”
“You don’t have to apologize. It all happened a long time ago. But…” Knox paused, trying to figure out how to justify his actions. “My coming to the gala wasn’t about revenge. I wanted to be a part of The Hidden Forest one last time. When I left, I never got to say goodbye. Not to anyone, including the writers I’d worked with. Evan wanted me gone, so I left it all behind.”
“I wish he hadn’t been so insistent on that, but he didn’t trust you. After you were promoted to executive story editor, he started getting paranoid that you’d get him kicked off the show and take all the credit for creating it. That’s why he struck first. After you left, everyone kept asking when you were coming back. The only way for Evan to get the upper hand was to discredit you by making up that shit about you being an alcoholic.”
He let her words sink in, reliving the agony as if it were only yesterday. “For what it’s worth, I never would have kicked him out. Did I get annoyed when he didn’t pull his weight? Sure, but I wouldn’t have ousted him from his own show and then done my best to slander him.”
The guilt on Lila’s face spoke volumes. Like she’d realized—even then—how underhanded Evan had been. “After you left, I tried to find you, but you’d disappeared. I wanted to warn you I’d said some hurtful things in the interviews I’d given. I didn’t mean them.”
For so long, he’d hoped to hear those words. To know that his impulsive fit of temper hadn’t distorted all her memories of him. He just wished she’d told him sooner. “Some of those articles were brutal, but I get it. You didn’t want to look like the villain.”
An elderly couple walked toward the gazebo, and Lila put her head down, as if shielding her appearance. When she spoke again, her voice was so soft he could barely hear her. “It’s so much harder for women in this industry. Evan said if I didn’t paint you as the bad guy, my reputation would suffer. I’d be called a slut or a cheating bitch. He told me the best way to spin the story, and I stuck with it.”
A few of those interviews had dug deep into Knox’s soul, making him question himself. After a while, he’d stopped reading anything about The Hidden Forest.
“Knox?”
“Sorry. I’d rather not remember that phase of my life. I appreciate the apology, though.” He waited until the couple had passed the gazebo before speaking again. “Can I ask you one thing? Did you truly not feel any passion for me?” For years, that confession had hurt him more than almost anything. “Or was that what Evan coached you to say?”
She looked up at him, her ocean-blue eyes misted over with tears. “It was the truth. But that didn’t diminish my affection for you. When we were first together, I needed someone to protect me and make me feel cherished, and you took such good care of me. But it wasn’t true passion.”
Her words hit him like a gut punch, swift and brutal. Would anyone ever feel that way about him? Or was he doomed to take care of women who’d move on once they found someone who offered them more?
She gave him a slight smile. “But Knox? That woman you were with last night? The one who stood up for you? She sounded very passionate.”
That made him feel even worse. “Yeah, well, I fucked that up, too. After we left the Grand Duke, we got into an argument, and I drove her away.”
He’d been such an idiot. Why had he turned on Charlie like that?
“You might be able to get her back. She knows about your past, doesn’t she?”
“She’s one of the only people I’ve told since I moved here. Other than my family.” He braced his hands against the bench, knowing he needed to take the next step. “But I’m sick of keeping it hidden.”
Charlie had been right in that aspect. He would never put old ghosts to rest until he came to terms with his past.
“Honestly, I can’t believe you never spoke up,” Lila said.
“Believe me, I thought about it. But after reading those interviews you and Evan gave—and then making the mistake of scrolling through the comments—I backed off. I also figured the truth might harm your reputation.” Not that he’d owed her anything. But he’d never wanted to hurt her.
“It might have, but it won’t matter as much now. Five years ago, I was still finding my footing. I’ve come a long way since then. If there’s a little backlash, so be it. I’m tired of being Princess Elodie. I’ve agreed to do a couple of episodes next season, and then I’m bowing out.”
Of all the things he’d learned this morning, this was the most startling. Lila Winstead was Princess Elodie. Though her star had risen steadily over the past eight years, she wasn’t known for much else. “I thought you loved the show.”
“I loved it when I first started and for five years after that. But over the last few years, I’ve done a few indie projects when we were on hiatus and realized I want more from my career. My agent sent me a few screenplays that look promising, and I’m ready for the next step. All of a sudden, I feel like the world is wide open.”
She spoke with such passion that he remembered how much he’d admired her, back when she’d shared her dreams with him. “That’s great. What does Evan think?”
She grimaced. “He’s not happy. We spent months fighting about it. The Hidden Forest is his golden goose. It’s all he’s ever worked on, and he’s not ready to let it go.” She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “We’re getting a divorce. We decided to keep it quiet until after the gala.”
No matter what she’d done to him, Knox hated seeing her in pain. “I’m sorry.”
“No, it’s for the best.” She gave a short laugh. “I can’t believe I ever accused you of being controlling, when all along, Evan’s the one who’s insisted on controlling my career. I’m tired of it. So…this is just to say, if you want to write a piece exposing him for the backstabbing rat that he is, you have my blessing. I’ll back you up, even if it tarnishes my image. I don’t owe him anything now.”
Knox swallowed, stunned at her admission. He’d never imagined she’d be willing to go to bat for him. But he also didn’t want his confession to help fuel her personal vendetta. “Just so we’re clear—this isn’t me getting back at Evan. It’s me reclaiming the narrative for myself. But I could use the support.”
“I owe you so much more than that. Is there anything else I can do for you?”
He tried to think of what he could ask her, but nothing came to mind. After all these years, he couldn’t conceive of returning to The Hidden Forest, even if he was invited back. Nor could he imagine pursuing Lila again. He was in love with someone else.
“I’m good. Just…take care of yourself, okay? I can’t wait to see what happens with your career.” He meant it, too. He’d never wanted anything but the best for her.
“Thanks, Knox.” She leaned over and kissed his cheek, her lips chilly on his skin. She stood up. “Good luck with the story. And with your girlfriend.”
He watched her leave but didn’t get up to follow. By now, the chill was seeping into his bones, and he was desperate for a warm beverage, but he needed a few minutes to ponder over everything Lila had told him. At most, he’d come prepared to ask for her forgiveness. But instead, she was the one who’d apologized. While her confession didn’t erase the torment he’d suffered, it had eased his conscience. Even though he’d been wrong to confront her and Evan in anger, that one incident didn’t define him.
And now, if she was willing to back up his claims, there was nothing standing in his way. It was time for him to bring his story into the light.
He pulled out his phone, intending to call Charlie and share his news, but after staring at it for a few minutes, he held off. After their heated exchange, a little cooling-off period might be best. Besides, if he was going to dig deep into his past and bare his soul to the world, he needed to focus. Right now, the words were piling up in his head, ideas of what he wanted to say and how he wanted to frame it. He needed to make his story resonate without coming across as bitter and vindictive.
And he needed to ensure it got the maximum amount of exposure.
He pulled out his phone and called Logan. When he got his friend’s voicemail, he left a message. “Hey, man, it’s Knox. I know you’re coming to Victoria in a couple of days, but I need to talk to you as soon as possible. It’s about an article I’m planning to write.”
Twenty-Six
Charlie wasn’t the type to wallow in misery. Even at her weepiest, she liked to take action. So, when she woke up on Sunday, her eyes raw from crying, her heart aching from her argument with Knox, she didn’t go back to bed. She took a long, hot shower and forced herself to put on real clothes. Pajamas weren’t an option.
She needed two things: strong coffee and someone to talk to. Otherwise, last night’s disaster would keep playing on a loop in her head.
Though it was only nine, she figured Rosie would be awake. She sent her a text.
Charlie: Any chance you want to meet up for coffee? Last night’s gala went sideways and I’m a hot mess.
Rosie replied immediately: Oh no! I’m sorry it didn’t go well. I can’t leave my apartment because I’m in the middle of a huge baking project. Do you want to come over?
Charlie: Sure. Should I bring coffee?
Rosie: I already made a pot. Just come prepared to frost dozens of cookies!
Charlie wasn’t sure what this baking project entailed, but she grabbed a gingham apron from her kitchen and stuffed it in a tote bag before heading out.
Rosie lived in a small, one-bedroom apartment in a hip part of town known as Cook Street Village. Parking in her neighborhood could be tricky, but it was early enough that Charlie found a spot around the corner. When Rosie opened the door to her apartment, she was wearing an apron streaked with orange and black frosting.
“Come in,” she said. “I’d hug you, but I don’t want to get frosting on your sweatshirt.”
“Thanks.” Charlie surveyed Rosie’s kitchen. Her breakfast bar was covered with trays of freshly baked cookies shaped like bats and pumpkins. “What’s all this for?”
“Drew volunteers at a women’s shelter downtown. Usually, he just plays Santa, but they need help with today’s Halloween party. He signed me up to provide dozens of cookies, and we’re bringing them over at two. I’ve got most of them baked, but they still need to be iced.”
“I’d be glad to help.” Charlie took out her apron and put it on. “Any chance I could get a cup of coffee first?”
“No problem. It’s just Colombian roast from my coffee maker, but I’ve got pumpkin spice–flavored creamer.” She poured Charlie a cup and handed her the bottle.
Charlie added a splash of cream to her coffee and settled on a stool at the breakfast bar. As the first hit of caffeine rushed through her system, she released a satisfied sigh. “I needed that. Once I’m done, I can pitch in.”
“I’m glad you’re here. Drew offered to help, but he was hoping to squeeze in a long run this morning. He’s training for a half-marathon in December.”
“Won’t it be too cold by then?” Charlie asked.
“You’d think so, wouldn’t you? Apparently, it’s a very popular race. It’s also Santa-themed, so it’s right up his alley.” Rosie grinned. “Now, drink up so I can put you to work. These pumpkins aren’t going to frost themselves.”
“Yes, ma’am.” While Rosie’s coffee couldn’t compare to Alma’s, the pumpkin spice creamer was a nice touch. Knox would have hated it. Thinking of him made Charlie’s eyes well up with tears, but she wiped them away. Today wasn’t for crying; it was for figuring out her next steps.
Drew came into the kitchen, wearing shorts over black running tights, a Northlife Fitness hoodie, and a fleece toque. Even bundled up, there was no denying his innate hotness. He was lean and muscular, with the cutest dimple when he smiled. Though he wasn’t Charlie’s type, he was a great match for Rosie.
“Hey, Charlie. Thanks for helping,” he said. “Now I can go running without any guilt.”
“Are you sure you’re dressed warmly enough? Even with the sun out, it’s chillier than I thought. The wind is vicious.”
“I’ll be fine. I consider it a challenge.”
Rosie rolled her eyes. “I still don’t see the appeal, but have a good run.”
He leaned over and gave her a quick kiss. “Thanks. Save a cookie for me.”
After he left, Charlie turned to her friend. “Things are good between you two?”
“They’re great, though I’ll never be into running. Hiking, sure. But running? Not unless someone’s chasing me.” She set a bowl of orange icing next to one of the trays. “You can start with the pumpkin cookies. Once you frost them, you need to decorate them with Halloween sprinkles. While you’re doing that, I want to hear all about last night.”
“I’ll give you the full recap.” Charlie finished her coffee and set down the mug.
She was glad Rosie had asked her to help frost the cookies, since focusing on the task at hand might stave off another round of tears. She spread the orange icing over each pumpkin cookie, describing the gala as she did so. When she got to the painful confrontation with Lila and Evan, her throat clogged with emotion, but she kept going. Right up to the heated argument in Knox’s truck that had put an end to their evening. This time, she let a few tears fall before wiping them away with her sleeve.
When she was done, Rosie spoke up. “That sucks. I’m so sorry it turned out that way.”
“Me, too. The worst part is it didn’t have to end like that. If I hadn’t gone off on Lila, Evan wouldn’t have come to her rescue and kicked us out of the gala. I messed up everything.”
The timer went off, and Rosie took another batch of cookies out of the oven. Since the breakfast bar and kitchen counters were full, she set the baking sheet on the coffee table across from her couch. “Maybe you said too much, but you were standing up for Knox. You really care about him, right?”
“I do. We haven’t been together for very long, but I’ve never felt like this about anyone. Not even Randolph, and I was engaged to him.”
“Then your reaction was justified. If someone hurt Drew that way, I wouldn’t be able to keep quiet.”
“But I still wouldn’t let it go, even after we left the Grand Duke. And…” Charlie’s breath hitched. “Knox got so mad at me.” She dabbed at her eyes with a tissue, trying to get a handle on her shaky emotions.
Rosie frowned. “He shouldn’t have treated you like that.”
While Charlie appreciated her friend’s support, she couldn’t let Knox take all the blame. “It was harsh, but nothing he said was a lie.”
Giving her a nod, Rosie wiped her hands on her apron and picked up a bowl of black frosting. “So…do you want sympathy or advice? I’m happy to dole out either.”
Sympathy might improve Charlie’s mood, but it wouldn’t solve anything. “Advice. Don’t be afraid to give me some tough love.”
Rosie dipped a knife into the frosting and began icing the bat-shaped cookies. “How long have you been living at your parents’ place?”
Charlie cringed. “Three years. But before you say anything, you have to remember I was desperate when I moved into that apartment.”
“That was after you broke up with Randolph, right? You didn’t have anywhere else to go.”
Charlie looked down, too ashamed to face her. She swirled her knife in the orange frosting to soften it up a little. “That wasn’t the only reason. I’ve never told anyone this, but I was also dealing with a lot of credit card debt.”
“Really? You always seem so careful with money. Other than your coffee addiction, which I can relate to.”
That made Charlie laugh. She and Rosie had often joked that too much of their salary went toward supporting Alma’s Beanery. But the credit card debt had been no laughing matter.
“When I was dating Randolph, he had high expectations. He pressured me into joining an expensive gym and a yoga studio so I’d stay in shape. He even hung a calendar in our kitchen and asked me to write down my workouts. If I missed a day, he’d give me a hard time about it.”
“What the hell?” Rosie stared at her, gripping her knife tightly. “That’s horribly controlling. Drew literally works as a personal trainer, and he’d never pull shit like that.”
The memories made Charlie sick with anxiety. “It gets worse. For every social event we attended, he wanted me dressed in designer clothes. He didn’t like me to repeat outfits, so I went shopping constantly. When I told my mom about it, she said, ‘Don’t worry. Once you’re married, he can take care of you.’ So I didn’t. Until I was single and realized how much debt I was in.”
“Oh shit, Charlie. I’m sorry.” Rosie passed her a shaker jar filled with orange and black sprinkles. “Don’t worry about making a mess because I can clean it up later.”
