Afterthoughts: A Charity McAdams Novella (The Charity McAdams Novellas) Read Online Free PDF Page A

and stalk off in the other direction. I am getting out of here, groomsman or no groomsman , it’ s time for me to go. I pick up my sign from the ground by the luggage carousel and tuck it under my arm.
    Another group of passengers are filling up the room and I have to push my way through the crowd to get to the exit. My head is still spinning but I figure I will sort it out on the long drive home , now that I will be alone. It’s going to take a lot more than a gift certificate for a mani-pedi to make up for this nightmare!
    I almost make it to the door before I feel a hand on my shoulder. I spin around. “Just leave me alone, Brandon!”
    The hand belongs to a man I have never seen before. He looks to be in his late twenties and he looks real ly nervous.
    “I’m sorry, M iss, I saw the sign. I’m Peter.” He lowers his hand to offer me a handshake.
    “No, no, I’m sorry. I uh- thought you were someone else.” I take his hand. “I’m Charity. I’m Debbie McAdams’ daughter. She is helping coordinate the wedding.”
    He nods. “Nice to meet you. I really appreciate you coming to give me a lift. I told Joe I’d just get a cab but they insisted on having someone come get me.”
    I fight the urge to laugh. Not the “ha-ha” k ind of laugh, more of the “ padded room and straightjacket” variety .
    “It’s no trouble. Did you get all your luggage?” I ask.
    “Yeah, I’m all set.”
    I turn and start to lead the way back towards the doors but stop short when I see Brandon. He is standing to the left of the doors with his suitcase. His arms are crossed and he looks like he is waiting for someone.
    “Charity, can we talk?” He asks when I take another step forward.
    “Talk? About what?” I let out a hollow laugh at the idea of us sharing a cab, let alone a conversation.
    “I don’t know , it’s been a long time. Don’t you think it’s a sign that we are both here at the exact same time?”
    “No, Brandon, I don’t. I’m not sure what Hollywood, new age- ey crap you’re into these days but I don’t believe in signs.” I try to take a step forward but he moves to block the doors.
    “Please, Cherry, hear me out,” he pleads.
    My heart flutters at the use of my old nickname. He was the only one who ever called me Cherry. I brace myself and try to fight the emotional swirl in my stomach.
    “I can’t. I have a long drive back to town and I would like to get home sometime before midnight.”
    “Is there a problem here?” A voice chimes in from somewhere over my left shoulder.
    I glance back and see that Peter has taken a step closer to me.
    “Who’ s this?” Br andon demands, looking like he’ s just now seeing that I am not alone.
    “My name is Peter McNamara, Charity is giving me a ride to town.”
    Brandon looks to me, as if to confirm the explanation .
    “Hillary Weath erby is getting married and Peter is one of the groomsman. We have a long drive ahead of us . If you really wanted to talk to me you could have called or emailed or messaged me at any point over the past three years , so excuse me if I don’t have time to do this right here, right now simply because it ’ s convenient for yo u or you find it spooky,” I say , putting air quotes around the word spooky.
    He rolls his eyes. “Cherry , please? Don’t be like this.”
    “Be like what?! Seriously Brandon what do you expec t me to do? You want me to let you into my car and pretend to be your best friend, sing along with some songs on the radio, and just forget who you are and what you did to me? To us?” Towards the end of my monologue I hear my voice getting a little hysterical and people are, once again, beginning to stare at me.
    Brandon takes a step closer and grabs a hold of my shoulders, sending a jolt of electricity through my body. His hands are warm and firm in their grip and his green eyes are wide and alarmingly serious looking.
    “I am not asking you to for get Charity, I just want to talk to you. I’ve