Wickedly Charming (14 page)

“It's better than I ever could have expected,” he said. “I think we'll make it here now. I was afraid we'd have to go back to the Kingdoms.”

He sounded relieved and happy. She'd never really heard him sound happy before—except when he was showing her the books at the book fair.

“I'm glad it went well,” she said politely, still not sure what it had to do with her.

“You did it,” he said. “You made all the difference.”

She took a sip of her coffee, even though it was still a bit too hot to drink comfortably.

“I didn't do anything.” How could she have done anything? She hadn't even met his daughters.

“But you did,” he said. “You figured out why the kids in that school were picking on my Grace. You solved the whole problem.”

“So they were going after Imperia?” Mellie still didn't like that name.

He nodded. “And I gave Imp permission to defend her sister.”

“I'm so glad it worked out,” Mellie said.

“It wouldn't have without you,” Charming said and grinned. “I'm in your debt.”

“No.” She shook her head. In the Kingdoms, being in someone's debt was a great responsibility. She didn't want that obligation from him. She wanted him near her because he wanted to be near her, not because he was obliged to.

“I brought books,” he said, pulling his briefcase on top of his thighs. He clicked it open and pulled out book after book after book, most of them paperbacks, most of them with attractive, shiny covers.

“Charming, I—”

“These aren't vampire romances,” he said. “Or vampire YA novels. Or vampire urban fantasies. They're books I think you might like from all different time periods. There are a few vampire books, but nothing like you've read before—”

“Charming,” she said. “Really, it's not necessary.”

He was stacking the books on the table. “But I think it is. I promised I'd teach you to enjoy reading, and I think something in this mess might just do it. I've included a lot of women's fiction. I think you'll like some of these books. They're—”

“You read women's fiction?” The voice beside Mellie was dry.

She looked up. Dave stood beside her, arms crossed, with a supercilious expression on his face. He seemed possessive and contemptuous at the same time. He was glaring at Charming.

Mellie felt her heart sink. This was not going to go well.

This was not going to go well at all.

“I read everything,” Charming said, without looking up. He was still grabbing books from the briefcase. “Books are books are books, as far as I'm concerned.”

Then he realized he wasn't answering a question from Mellie. He was answering a question posed in a contemptuous male voice.

He raised his head.

The doughy guy who had been eavesdropping on their conversations the week before stood next to Mellie as if he owned her.

Charming pulled the last of the books from his briefcase and closed it. Then, very slowly, he set it on the floor.

“Don't you read women's fiction?” Charming asked the doughy guy.

“Why would I?” the doughy guy said. “It's for
women
.”

Mellie's mouth opened slightly. The color in her cheeks rose again.

“Well, that's where you're wrong,” Charming said. “Women's fiction is just a marketing category, designed to appeal more to women than to men. But there are stories in that category that any human being would like.”

“I'll take your word for it,” the doughy guy said. He hadn't moved. If anything, he looked even more planted against Mellie's side.

She wasn't asking him to move.

Had Charming missed something here?

“Now that you've given Mel your little presents, why don't you just run away, like you did last week,” the doughy guy said.

Charming frowned. The doughy guy thought Charming had run away? Well, maybe he had, but not because he was scared. Or rather, scared too badly. He had to deal with his girls. And in no way was he going to tell this doughy guy that. He wasn't going to tell the doughy guy anything.

What Charming wanted to do was wipe that supercilious smile off the doughy guy's face. And it wouldn't be hard. He obviously never got out much, and he certainly didn't get much exercise. Charming could flatten him with a single blow.

But Mellie had become a modern woman, a woman of the Greater World. A punch to the doughy guy's face probably wouldn't impress her.

She hadn't said anything. She was watching Charming. Charming's heart started to pound. Were they a couple now?

“That's right,” the doughy guy said. “You can skedaddle now. Mellie and I have a lunch date.”

Mellie shook her head slightly. Her gaze met Charming's.

“Actually, Dave,” she said, and Charming heard apology in her tone. She was going to tell him to leave. Using the name he used in the Greater World because calling him Charming would sound stupid. “We don't have a lunch date.”

Charming knew that. What was she playing at?

“I know,” he said, standing slowly.

“We do too,” the doughy guy said. “I told you I'd be back this afternoon.”

Charming blinked. He wasn't quite sure what was going on. Neither was the doughy guy. He frowned at Mellie.

“That doesn't mean we have a date,” Mellie said to the doughy guy.

She stood as well, moving slightly away from the doughy guy.

“Dave Encanto,” she said to Charming, “meet Dave Bourke.”

Charming felt his mouth drop open. It took him half a second to recover, and when he did, he realized he had three options. He could bluster his way out of here, he could challenge the other Dave, or he could charm the man.

It didn't take much thought to realize which option was best.

Charming leaned forward—he was taller than Dave Bourke—and extended his hand. “It's a pleasure to meet you.”

Bourke didn't move. His arms remained crossed. “You're the doofus who named your daughter Imperia. Imperia Encanto. That's a really stupid name.”

The comment was designed to make him angry. Charming knew that. But it didn't make any difference. He
was
angry.

Once again, someone was attacking one of his daughters.

Only this time, that someone didn't even know his daughters.

“Perhaps you would like to reconsider your attack on my child?” Charming asked quietly.

“I wasn't attacking your poor kid,” Bourke said. “I was going after you for saddling her with such a wretched name.”

“Dave,” Mellie said with a warning in her voice. But Charming couldn't tell if the warning was for him or for Bourke.

And honestly, Charming didn't care.

“Really?” Charming said. “Because I would think that someone named Bourke has no grounds to stand on.”

“Dave,” Mellie said, only this time she was looking at him.

“Bourke isn't such a bad name,” Bourke said. “And it's certainly better than Imperia.”

“Dave!” Mellie turned toward Bourke. “Stop. Now. Both of you.”

“My daughter has no place in this discussion,” Charming said, taking a step forward. He had wanted to hurt this guy from the man's first interruption a week ago. Now he had an excuse. He would pick up the doughy son of a bitch and slam him against the ceiling, and see how he liked that. Charming could do it. He'd done it before—in tournaments, to be sure, but those men, at least, were in fighting shape. This man hadn't been in a physical altercation in decades, if at all.

“As I said,” Bourke said, “I really can't go after you. You have the perfectly pleasant name, Dave. Even though you're not one of the most pleasant men I've ever met.”

“I'm
charming
,” Charming said, although he wasn't sure if he was objecting to the insult or if he was introducing himself. He took another step forward.

Then Mellie barged between them. She put a hand on each of their chests like the referee in a wrestling match. She had to use force to keep them apart too. Charming could see her arms straining with the effort.

“Enough,” she said again. “You will both listen to me now.”

“You get 'em, lady,” someone yelled from another table, and laughter sounded all around.

Charming finally noticed everyone else. The usual group of regulars sat in their chairs. The barista clutched a cell phone, but didn't hold it to her ear. One man near the back stood as if he had been about to get involved.

“First you, Dave,” she said looking at Charming. “I thought you were supposed to be charming. Charming people do not menace other people. Didn't you learn that in Charm school?”

He bristled. “They didn't have charm—”

“And you,” she said turning toward Bourke. “I spent some time with you this week, and put up with your occasional insensitive comments. I realize you don't even understand that you're making them half the time. But for your information, if you want a woman to date you, you don't call her a black widow.”

“Unless you got money,” that same voice yelled.

Mellie looked over Bourke's shoulder at the source of the yelling. So did Charming. He saw a young, laptop-toting guy who wore a ball cap with the name of a popular sitcom blazed across the front.

“And you,” she said to the yeller before Charming could say anything. “Butt out.”

The yeller leaned against the wall, but kept a small smile on his face.

“When I called you a black widow, it was a joke,” Bourke said.

“Some joke,” she said. “It was offensive.”

“You should've said something,” Bourke said.

The color in Mellie's cheeks had moved down her neck. She looked like she was going to explode. Charming wanted to step in, but Mellie kept her hand on his chest. He couldn't move forward without using force.

“I've been meaning to tell you,” she was saying to Bourke, “that we're really not suited. But I was going to do it in private. However, since you've decided to make a scene—”

“I didn't decide to make a scene,” Bourke said. “It's your charming friend here who started it.”

“I didn't malign a good book,” Charming said.

Mellie glared at him. “You can shut up too. You stop being charming when someone attacks your choice of reading material. And that's just strange.”

Charming frowned. That wasn't true. It wasn't strange at all. Books were personal, and attacking someone's choice of reading material was like attacking someone's clothing or his looks.

He started to say that, then realized that Mellie had turned back to Bourke.

“Anyway,” she said, “you're a nice man, but you're not right for me.”

“Ah, c'mon, Mellie,” Bourke said. “So I can be rude sometimes. I'm a successful writer. I make a load of dough, and we've had fun times.”

Charming straightened his shoulders. She
dated
this man? She
slept
with this man?

“We have a lot in common,” Bourke was saying. “We're both adults, we're interested in writing, we both work in Hollywood—”

“We have nothing in common,” Mellie said. “You don't even know what an adult is. I'm interested in writing only because Charming here—”

And she took a breath, clearly catching herself.

“I mean, Dave here,” she said.

Bourke laughed. “Charming,” he said over Mellie. “That suits you, doofus.”

“Better me than you,” Charming said stiffly.

“Dave here,” Mellie said louder, “is the one who said I should put my experiences into a novel. He has a point. You see, Dave—”

And this time, she made it clear she was speaking to Bourke.

“—I want to write women's fiction about stepmothers.
Evil
stepmothers, and how they're really not evil at all. Just like the way a woman who is unfortunate enough to be twice-widowed is not a black widow.”

Bourke's pasty skin got even paler. He finally understood that things weren't going well for him.

“Mellie,” he said. “I can teach you how to write. This guy can't. He's just a reader. He's not a real writer. He doesn't know anything—”

“He knows more about women's fiction than you do,” Mellie said. “He at least appreciates women. And he's never said anything bad about me, although I've given him cause to.”

Charming suppressed a smile. He leaned into her hand just a little, liking the pressure against his chest.

He wondered if she could feel his heart beat.

“So, Dave,” Mellie said, without looking at Charming, “why don't you go back to your explosions and your manly men and the famous people you write for and leave me alone?”

“You don't mean that, Mellie,” Bourke said.

“Oh, for…” She let her arm drop away from Charming's chest. He nearly fell forward due to the lack of pressure.

“I
hate
it when men tell me I don't mean something,” she said. “I
hate
it when someone dismisses me, like you have over and over and over. I
hate
it when—”

“I think he gets the point, Mellie,” Charming said, putting his arm around her. Unlike his family, Mellie had once had magic. But there was nothing like anger to revive dormant magic. And when someone used magic in anger, there was no telling what would happen.

“You have no place in this discussion,” she snapped at Charming.

“Actually, I do,” he said to her. “Technically,
you
don't have any place in this fight.”

She made a face, one his girls made when they were very small. It was a cross between a grimace and a pout.

“I do too,” she said.

“No, you don't,” Bourke said, sounding relieved. “Your ‘charming' friend here and I were having a discussion about literature before you butted in.”

“I butted in to tell you that I don't want to spend any more time with you,” Mellie said, sounding indignant.

“Well, honestly,” Bourke said, “that discussion should be held in private.”

“Too late,” Charming said. “She already broke up with you.”

He tried not to sound cheerful about it.

“We weren't dating,” Mellie said. “So I can't really break up with him.”

“We were too dating.” Bourke's face was getting red. “What do you call all those meals?”

“I paid for my own food,” Mellie said. “And you paid for yours. So that doesn't qualify as a date.”

“What is this, high school?” Bourke asked. “We're two adults. We talked about our lives, our passions, our interests—”

“The lady told you that she didn't want to spend time with you anymore.” Charming used a tone he often used with his daughters. The tone hid his jubilance. Mellie hadn't slept with Bourke. She hadn't even considered the time they spent together dating. And Bourke had pissed her off. So Bourke wasn't a rival.

“You stay out of this,” Bourke said to Charming.

“I thought this was our discussion,” Charming said. “I thought I had just had that argument with Mellie.”

“It
was
our discussion.” Bourke's agreement sounded begrudging. “It was about your girly interest in reading material.”

“My what?” Charming asked. He wasn't quite sure what to take offense at, although he knew he should take offense at something.

“What's wrong with girls?” Mellie asked at the same time.

“Dude,” the baseball cap kibitzer said in a stage whisper to Bourke, “you're not going to get anywhere insulting the woman.”

“Shut up!” Charming, Mellie, and Bourke said to the kibitzer in unison.

The kibitzer raised his eyebrows, grinned, and glanced at everyone around, as if he were proud of getting that reaction.

“You insulted my daughter,” Charming said to Bourke.

“I insulted
you
,” Bourke said. “
You
gave your daughter a stupid name.”

Mellie put her hand on Charming's chest again. He hadn't even realized he moved forward menacingly until she had made that move.

“I think you should stop talking now,” Mellie said to Bourke.

Charming recognized that tone. It was a warning tone, one that the magical used in the Kingdoms as fair notice that magic was about to occur.