“Oh, there’s so much more I have to tell you,” Sue chirped. “Lots of gossip since you left.”
“I’d love to hear it,” Charlotte lied. “But first, I was thinking of taking a nap. I barely slept last night.”
“Excited to be home, huh?”
Uh, more like terrified. She’d been plagued with thoughts of Nate Bishop since the second she’d asked Georgia to book her the flight to Colorado.
Are you actually going to go through with it?
She ignored the disapproving voice in her head. Seemed like her conscience had been making unwelcome appearances ever since she’d decided to go ahead with this little seduction plan. It had sounded so much more appealing when she’d been drunk. Once the alcohol had worn off, though, common sense had settled in, but by then it had been too late—Georgia had already booked the room and flight. Canceling hadn’t been an option. Knowing Sue Anderson, the word of Charlotte’s impending arrival had spread within seconds of the booking, and Charlotte could only imagine the nasty things everyone would say about her if she didn’t show up.
“I’ll let you rest, then,” Sue said.
“Thanks, Sue.”
As the older woman left the room, Charlotte moved to the bed and sat down on the edge. Was she actually going to do this? Seduce Nate? She hadn’t seen him in years. What if she wasn’t even attracted to him anymore?
What if he wasn’t attracted to her?
She pictured Nate at eighteen. His thick hair, the color of dark, liquid chocolate. Those smoky gray eyes, a sparkling silver when he laughed, an overcast evening when he brooded. As a teenager he’d been tall and lanky but muscular, thanks to his position as tailback of the Paradise Panthers. He’d been the only bright spot in her miserable life. And when he kissed her…
Her toes curled involuntarily. She missed those kisses.
God, what was she doing? Just being back made her feel insecure and miserable, and it would only get worse once she was reunited with her former classmates.
Closure.
Right, closure. She had to hold on to that. Nate Bishop had ruined her love life, and she wouldn’t be able to move on until she faced him again.
Lifting her chin, Charlotte stood up and went to her suitcase. She unzipped it, rummaged around for her makeup case, then marched toward the bathroom.
No backing out now. She’d come here to make Nate rue every word he’d hurled her way fifteen years ago. She was desirable. She could turn him on.
And he had better watch out.
Chapter Three
The circus was underway.
Charlotte had barely been at the reunion for twenty minutes, and already she wanted desperately to get the hell out of here. Girls she’d gone to high school with, girls who’d smirked and scowled at her, talked behind her back, spread rumors about her—suddenly they were all smiles. Sugary-sweet with their “Oh my God, Charlotte! You look amazing!” and their “I’m so happy you showed up! Everyone in town is so proud of your career!”
Bullshit. They weren’t proud. They were flat-out jealous, which she read from the snooty undertones in their gushing words.
Boys who claimed to have slept with her in high school had grown up into men who wanted to sleep with her now, whose leering smiles and “charming” innuendo made bile rise in her throat.
These people were so fake. She felt like shaking each and every one of them by the collar and saying, “You made my life miserable, you assholes!”
Instead, she put on a poised, casual front, making small talk, pretending she actually gave a damn about these people. At least the party itself wasn’t bad. Tiny silver lights had been strung from lampposts to create a sparkling, almost romantic ambiance. The dance floor was large and shiny, and several of her former classmates were dancing to the classy and lively songs played by the big band outfit the mayor had flown in from Denver.
Charlotte made her way toward the open bar where she ordered a glass of champagne then leaned against the long counter and watched the crowd.
At the sound of footsteps, she moved her head, only to experience an inward cringe as she found herself looking into Lexie Price’s ice-blue eyes.
“Charlotte,” Lexie greeted her. No smile this time, just tight lips and wariness.
“Lexie,” she returned, equally cool.
Lexie signaled the bartender and ordered white wine then turned and said, “I didn’t think you’d show.”
“And why is that?” Charlotte kept her tone utterly polite.
Lexie shrugged, causing her loose blonde hair to fall over one graceful shoulder. She wore a pale blue satin dress, silver ballet slippers, and no makeup save for some shiny pink lip-gloss. It irked Charlotte, how beautiful Lexie still was.
“You’ve got a busy life now,” Lexie said sweetly. “Fame, fortune, all that fun stuff.”
“I hear you’re doing well too. Editor in chief of the Post. Must be nice.”
“It is.”