Charlie
I couldn’t pull my mind out of the gutter.
It had been years since anyone had caught my attention. Why did that have to change at Finn McCarthy’s wedding? I was meant to be on my best behaviour. And while I was on a whining spree, why did it have to be a woman who lived four thousand fucking kilometres away? The woman lived closer to my mother in Ontario than me, for fuck’s sake.
“You alright there?” Finn clapped me on the shoulder, startling me. “No matter how talented you think you are, you can’t turn whiskey into gold, so stop staring at the bleeding glass.”
A perpetual grin always claimed his lips these days. Ever since he’d admitted his feelings for Abi. The man’s reputation had done a complete one-eighty because of that woman and I’d be eternally grateful.
“I’m fine.” I forced a smile. “Just taking a breather from all the schmoozing. How about you? Happy to have finally locked down the girl of your dreams without a million cameras recording every move?”
His gaze drifted across the room to where Abi stood, laughing with a group of guests. Her red hair caught the light, making it look like fire. “Happier than a pig in shite, mate. She’s everything I never knew I needed.”
“Well, don’t go getting all sappy on me now.” I clapped him on the back, biting back a wince at the ache of loneliness chewing at my insides. “Just because you’ve turned over a new leaf — for the better, I might add — doesn’t mean the rest of us don’t have reputations to uphold. Can’t have people thinking I represent lovesick fools.”
Finn snorted. “Too late for that. Now come on, stop being such a wet blanket and enjoy the party. It’s not every day your best client gets hitched.”
I opened my mouth to argue — he had in fact gotten hitched nine months ago — but movement across the room caught my eye. Emma stepped through the door, clipboard in hand, looking like a vision in a deep blue dress that hugged every curve. Her dark hair was swept into an elegant updo, a few tendrils escaping to frame her face. The need to drag my fingers through it gripped me.
Fuck me sideways. The woman got more beautiful every time I saw her.
Before I knew what I was doing, I was making my way across the room. Finn called after me, but his voice faded into the background noise of the reception. Emma glanced up as I approached, her expression guarded. Those eyes that had haunted me all damn day were even more striking up close — a warm brown flecked with gold.
“Mr Delacroix. Come to destroy any more of my hard work?”
I winced, remembering the champagne tower fiasco from yesterday. “About that... I wanted to apologise again. Properly this time, without the distraction of shattered glass everywhere.”
Her brow arched, but I couldn’t miss the hint of a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “I’m listening.”
“I’m sorry for being a complete klutz and ruining your display,” I said, meeting her gaze. “And for being distracted and not watching where I was going. The wedding is absolutely beautiful. You’ve done an incredible job.”
Emma tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Thank you. That’s... actually very sweet of you to say.”
“Sweet? Me?” I placed a hand over my heart in mock offence. “I’ll have you know I’m a ruthless Hollywood hotshot. We don’t do sweet.”
She laughed, and the sound did funny things to my insides. “Well, in that case, I suppose we’ll have to start over. Emma Sullivan, Abi and Finn’s wedding planner.”
Which I’d known all along, of course. It was my job to know. “Charlie Delacroix, agent and occasional bull in a china shop.” I took her offered hand. Her skin was soft against mine. The need to hold on and never let go struck me. “But please, call me Charlie.”
She stared at me, her teeth teasing her lower lip for a moment while she considered me. If it were possible for my heart to stop beating, it would have.
“Alright,” she finally said, her voice carrying a hint of amusement. “I suppose I can give you a second chance.”
“You won’t regret it, I promise. Can I buy you a drink to seal the deal?”
Emma glanced at her clipboard, then back at me. “I really shouldn’t. I’m working, after all.”
“Come on, one drink.” It surprised me how much I wanted her to say yes. “I’m sure the bride and groom would insist their hardworking planner take a moment to enjoy the fruits of her labour.”
She hesitated, and I held my breath. What was wrong with me? I never got this worked up over a woman, especially one I’d just met. But something about her had me off-balance in the best possible way.
“Oh, alright.” She set her clipboard down on a table tucked into an alcove and smiled at me. “But just one.”
I beamed, feeling ridiculously victorious. “Excellent choice. What’s your poison?”
“Surprise me.”
I led her to the bar, hyper-aware of her presence beside me.
“Two gin and tonics, please. With a twist of lime.”
Emma raised an eyebrow. “Gin and tonic, huh? Trying to impress me with your sophisticated tastes?”
Instead, I laughed. “Nah, just figured you’d appreciate a classic. Plus, it’s clear — less chance of ruining that gorgeous dress if I have another clumsy moment.”
A blush crept up her cheeks, and pure satisfaction rushed through me.
“What’s the craziest request you’ve ever gotten from a client?” I asked after we collected our drinks.
I’d expected her to say the champagne centrepiece. Something I could hold over Finn’s head at a later date. Instead, she told me about a bride who wanted doves released at the exact moment of her first kiss. As ridiculous as it was, I never wanted her to stop talking about those bloody birds. She could have read the dictionary to me and I would have hung on her every word. Absorbed in the way her eyes lit up as she spoke, her hands moving animatedly. Captivated.
Before I knew it, half an hour had passed. Our glasses were long gone and the waitstaff had started to file into the banquet hall.
“Oh god.” Emma glanced at her watch. “I can’t believe I’ve been neglecting my duties for so long. I should really get back to work.”
Before I could stop her, she rushed away, slipping through my fingers in more ways than one.
* * *
As guests took their seats for dinner, I made my way to my assigned table. My heart did a little flip when I spotted Emma already seated, looking slightly flustered as she eyed me and arranged her napkin on her lap.
“Well, well,” I said as I slid into the chair next to her. “Fancy meeting you here.”
She rolled her eyes, but I caught the smile she tried to hide. “You know, for someone who claims to be ruthless, you’re not very good at playing it cool.”
I clutched my chest in mock pain. “Hit a man where it hurts, why don’t you?”
“Charlie!” a familiar voice called out before she could respond. “It’s been too long.”
Aria Campbell — a country singer whose agent also coerced her into joining Married Blind last year — stopped at our table with her husband in tow. Showtime.
“Lovely to see you again.” I stood and held out my hand to shake hers across the table, being extra careful not to knock over Emma’s centrepiece. “How’s the new album coming along?”
She beamed, her red painted lips curling up. “It’s going wonderfully, thank you for asking. We’re hoping to wrap up recording next month.”
Her jet black hair hung in waves above her shoulders, shorter than the last time I’d seen her. She wore a gold figure hugging dress that might have drawn my eye before yesterday. Now, no one could compete with Emma in my mind. In any case, Aria looked good tucked into Kyle’s side, his six-foot-five frame dwarfing her five-foot-nine. She probably felt short for the first time in her life.
“Fantastic news.” I grinned, shaking Kyle’s hand. “Good to see you, man. Keeping this one out of trouble?”
He chuckled. “Tack on a ‘trying’. You know no one stops Aria when she’s on a roll.”
“I shouldn’t be surprised to see you. Even Nicole is wandering around here somewhere.”
“Now that did surprise me.” Aria took the seat Kyle pulled out for her and a waiter rushed over to pour her a glass of wine. “As far as I knew, no one heard from her after filming ended, but I’m glad she’s here. I hope it means she’s healed enough that we don’t remind her of bad times.”
The three of us glanced towards the blonde sitting three tables away from us with Toronto’s newest hockey player and his wife. The man next to her had his hand resting on the back of her chair and she kept throwing him dreamy smiles when he wasn’t looking.
“That does look promising.”
The rest of our table mates joined us, and we cut the gossip short. Just because we knew the behind-the-scenes details of the legal nightmare Married Blind turned into didn’t mean others needed to.
Instead, I introduced them all to Emma. She threw me a little smirk that meant who knows what and fell straight into easy conversation with the pink-haired woman next to her, Mona Baines, Shaun Martin’s wife and now one of Abi’s best friends.
As the conversation flowed around the table, I found myself torn between playing the role of charming agent and wanting to focus solely on Emma. I’d gotten so caught up in the familiar routine of working the room that the first course was served before I could give her all of my attention again.
I leaned in close, keeping my voice low. “Sorry about that. Old habits die hard, I guess.”
She quirked a brow at me. “Showing off for the celebrities.”
“Never. Although…” I bit my lip as I studied her. “I have to admit, it’s kind of fun watching you try not to look impressed.”
She rolled her eyes, but I caught the hint of a smile. “Please. I don’t look starstruck.”
I smirked. “Yes, you do.”
“Really?” Her eyes widened at my nod. “Damn. I even practised while I prepared my binder.”
“Your binder?”
“Don’t make it sound weird. I needed to memorise every guest in case of issues.”
One sentence, and I knew everything I needed to know about her work ethic. I shouldn’t have been surprised after seeing her in action yesterday and this morning. My assistant did something similar, meticulously preparing fact files of all the important people in Hollywood and updating them every time I had to attend an event.
Wait.
“If you knew what everyone looked like and where they were sitting, why did you look so shocked to find me at your table?”
She blushed. “I, uh... I wasn’t actually supposed to be eating.” She picked up the napkin and started twisting it almost unconsciously. “There were some missing guests, and Abi insisted I take one of the empty seats. She didn’t tell me which table until just before, and she’d stolen my binder. I couldn’t remember who was supposed to be here until you turned up.”
I laughed; the image of Abi strong-arming her own wedding planner into enjoying the party was just too perfect. And very Abigail McCarthy. The woman had been a force of nature for as long as I’d known her.
I turned in my seat, catching Abi’s eye at the head table. She grinned and raised her glass. I lifted mine in return, mouthing a silent ‘thank you.’
Turning back to Emma, I smiled. “Well, I for one am glad you’re here. It would’ve been a shame to miss out on your company.”
She rolled her eyes, but I caught a hint of her amusement. “Smooth talker.”
“I try,” I said with a wink. “So, tell me more about wedding planning. I bet you’ve got some stories that could rival even my craziest Hollywood tales.”
She laughed, her eyes lighting up. “Oh, you have no idea. Ever had to wrangle a runaway groom who got cold feet an hour before the ceremony?”
“Getting Finn on Married Blind felt that way sometimes, but no.” I leaned in, intrigued. “What happened?”
“Let’s just say it involved a fire escape, a very determined mother-in-law, and me sprinting three blocks in heels.”
We traded stories back and forth, laughing over the absurdities we’d both encountered in our respective industries. I was captivated before, but after an hour listening to her and holding her complete attention, I was an utter goner.
“… and then the best man realised he’d left the rings in the taxi,” Emma was saying, her eyes sparkling with mirth.
I shook my head in disbelief. “What did you do?”
“I might have bribed a random stranger on a motorbike to chase down the cab.”
“Did it work?”
She grinned triumphantly, her brown eyes sparkling. “Got the rings back with two minutes to spare.”
“Impressive.” I tapped my glass against hers. “I’ll have to remember to call you next time one of my clients has a meltdown before a premiere.”
The words hung in the air between us, laden with possibility. Our gazes clashed and the air evaporated, closing in and stealing away the chatter surrounding us. I became hyper-aware of how close we were sitting.
A lump formed in my throat. Nerves? Desire? I reached for the salt shaker, trying to distract myself before I did something that would have Finn teasing me for weeks.
My hand brushed against hers, and I swear electricity jolted through us. Emma’s breath caught, and for a moment, we both froze, trapped in each other’s gazes.
The clinking of a glass broke the spell, signalling the start of the speeches. I reluctantly pulled back, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted between us. I turned my attention to the front of the room, hoping it would lessen the pull and give me a shot of self-control. Of course it would never be that easy. I was acutely aware of her presence beside me, the warmth of her leg pressed against mine under the table.
ten minutes later, a waiter appeared at my elbow, breaking the moment. “Mr Delacroix? There’s a call for you at the front desk. They say it’s urgent.”
I sighed and threw Emma an apologetic smile. It was only half practised. I was sorry to leave her, but as much as I enjoyed her company, any longer and I’d embarrass myself.
“Duty calls, I’m afraid.” Standing, I tapped my suit pockets for my phone. “Save me a dance?”
She smiled, a mix of amusement and something else I couldn’t quite place in her eyes. “We’ll see. I do have a job to do here, you know.”
* * *
When I finally made it back to the reception, the dance floor was in full swing. The Edison bulbs cast a warm glow over the room, creating an almost dreamlike atmosphere. I scanned the crowd, my heart sinking when I didn’t immediately spot Emma.
But then I saw her, clipboard back in hand, directing a group of waiters with the precision of a military commander as they circulated with champagne, her brow furrowed in concentration. I wandered over to her, trying to be casual.
“You know, there’s a law against all work and no play at weddings, right?”
Emma jumped slightly, then turned to face me with a wry smile. “Is that so? And let me guess, you’re here to enforce it?”
“Well, someone’s got to.” I held out my hand. “Come on, darling. Five minutes without thinking about work. Doctor’s orders.”
She hesitated, glancing around at the bustling reception. “I don’t know... my assistant quit yesterday, and there’s still so much to do...”
“Five minutes won’t hurt you.” I wiggled my fingers. “The world won’t end if you take a little break. Promise.”
She sighed, but a smile tugged at her lips as she set down her clipboard. “Fine. But just one dance, and then I really do need to get back to work.”
I grinned triumphantly, leading her out onto the dance floor just as a slow song started to play. How’s that for perfect timing?
As we swayed to the music, I pulled her closer, my hand resting on the small of her back. She fit against me perfectly, like two puzzle pieces clicking into place. The scent of her perfume enveloped me, and I revelled in the warmth of her body pressed against mine.
I ducked my head, my lips close to her ear. “You know, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were put on this earth to test my resolve. How am I supposed to focus on anything else when you’re around?”
She shivered slightly, and when she pulled back to look at me, her cheeks were flushed. “Smooth. Does that line usually work for you?” Her tone was teasing despite the heat in her gaze. “I must admit, I’m a little disappointed. I thought you’d be more creative.”
I laughed, spinning her out and then pulling her back in. “What can I say? You’ve got me all turned around. I’ll have to up my game if I want to impress you, eh?”
“Maybe you already have,” Emma said softly, her brown eyes meeting mine with an intensity that took my breath away.
The song ended far too soon, and I reluctantly let her slip back into the crowd with claims of checking on the cake cutting. But throughout the rest of the night, I found my gaze continually drawn to her. The way she moved through the room with effortless grace, the sound of her laughter carrying across the space, the flash of her smile as she caught me looking... it was intoxicating.
Whatever was happening between us, I knew one thing for certain: I didn’t want this night to end.
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