Out of Focus (Love in LA #3)

I’m sorry I didn’t reply. I didn’t even look at my phone the entire time.

Thank you for checking in on me.

I’m at home now, just going to have a shower, and then I was hoping I could see you?

I need to talk to you.

If you’re not exhausted or whatever.

My cheeks hurt, I’m smiling so damn hard at all the texts coming in. But then the words I need to talk to you land like a bag of bricks to my gut.

ME:

Never too exhausted for you, carrot cake. I’ll come over in like an hour?

The sooner, the better, right? Might as well get this over with.

CHARLIE:

That’s great.

See you then.

Fuck. This is gonna suck.

54/

fucking robert

charlie

I’ve just come out of the shower when I hear the intercom. I should have told Rafael to just come up, let himself into my apartment, and come straight to my bed.

No, that would have been a bad idea. We do still need to actually talk. I need to make my feelings known and also figure out when I’ll talk to Robert.

Fucking Robert.

Two minutes later, with my hair still sopping wet and my body wrapped in nothing but a towel, I skip to the front door as I hear the soft knocks. I open it, not bothering to fight the smile breaking free on my face, and I’m met with…

Fucking Robert.

“Hey, Lottie. Miss me?” With his hands in his khaki pants, he smirks as he regards my lack of clothing. If I could kick myself for making it so easy for him to get my address, I would. He probably told my assistant he wanted to surprise me or some bullshit. “I hope you don’t always answer the door in your towel, Charlotte.” His tone is scolding, as if I’m a child. “Obviously, you were expecting me.” He walks past me and into the apartment as I roll my eyes out of his sight.

“I wasn’t, actually. What are you doing here?” Maybe it’s my lack of sleep. Maybe it’s the time I’ve spent with Rafael, feeling like I can speak my mind. All I know is I don’t feel like holding back right now.

“I told you I was coming. So, here I am. It’s time to come home. It’s clear that this is what you wanted, right? Some grand gesture for me to get you back to London? Well, I’m here. Now you can stop fishing for attention.” He walks around my space as he talks, hands still in his pockets as if he doesn’t want to touch anything in here. Like he’s too good for this place. God, I’m so angry at myself for wasting so much of my time on this tosser.

“No,” is my simple response. He turns to look at me, then. I expect to see shock on his face, but the bastard is smiling.

“No? And you’re going to, what? Stay here? In this place? I can make it so you never find another job in finance again, Charlotte. You will come back to London to work for me. To marry me. We had a plan.” He takes his hand out of his pocket to inspect his nails, the pompous asshole.

I can feel the anger rising in my body, making my blood boil. I want to hit him. I want to kick him out of here and straight back to London so I can be sure to never see him again.

“I’d rather not have this conversation with you when I’m so undressed. I’ll be right back.” Without giving him time to respond, I walk into the hall and to my room, closing and locking the door. Not because I feel unsafe, but because I just need a moment to know no one is going to come in here while I gather my thoughts.

I take my time getting dressed, brushing my hair, and tidying a few things before I pick up my phone to text Rafael. He’s supposed to be here in twenty minutes, so I’m sure he hasn’t left his house yet.

ME: