a financial will, there was a way. Apart from being rewarded with an excellent salary, he also enjoyed twice yearly bonuses. It was the latter that Willow knew nothing about.
Charlie had put the bonuses “in a safe place” and watched them grow. He had a vague notion about what he’d one day spend it on… a moment of madness blowing the whole lot in a Vegas casino. Or buying a sports car. Or even a desert island. They were more affordable than people thought. Although perhaps scrap that last idea. Desert islands didn’t have Sky Sport. But never had Charlie anticipated spending a five-figure sum on a woman he’d only met twice.
In the days that followed Sophiegate, Charlie’s head had been like an overstuffed washing machine threatening to blow the door off. He’d sought to relieve his stress by drinking too much, so much so that Willow had raised one eyebrow and asked Charlie if he’d received word that the grape harvest had failed.
Charlie’s solicitor had produced a hastily drawn up document. In exchange for Sophie receiving a lump sum, she’d had to agree to three conditions. Firstly, she would never contact Charlie, Willow, or anyone at Charlie’s workplace. Secondly, she would never reveal the financial arrangement, or the reasons for it, to anyone. Thirdly, any breach of the contract would cause the lump sum to be repaid with interest and compensation. She’d signed on the dotted line, taken the money, and told Charlie to go to hell. Ultimately, he was simply grateful to have gotten away with it by the skin of his very white teeth.
As time went by, Charlie had felt himself slowly relaxing. Life was peaceful again, and he was loving it. He considered himself a changed character. He didn’t need man-trappers like Sophie, or sex-mad nutcases like Kev. He’d received some texts from Kev testing the water for resuming their affair.
Tonight. You and me. I have chocolate body paint. Let’s get saucy!
He’d not replied.
Lick and tease! We’ll work off those chocolate calories!
Charlie had hit the trash icon.
Sorry, sweetie. Sorry, sorry, sorry. I just miss you so much. I can’t stop thinking about us together. I’ve never had this kind of connection before.
Charlie had replied to this last text somewhat curtly.
The connection is now a disconnection.
And then he’d blocked Kev’s number.
The only woman Charlie wanted was the one who’d been by his side all along. He’d told Ben of his plans to propose to Willow and received a good reaction.
‘At last!’ Ben had whooped. ‘You’ve finally come to your senses. Grown up. Admittedly it’s taken a few decades for you to get there. But, as they say, better late than never. When are you going to ask her?’
‘This weekend,’ Charlie had smiled. ‘Saturday night, to be precise. Do you think Willow will say yes?’
Ben had looked at his friend and been astonished to see the sudden anxiety in Charlie’s eyes.
‘Of course she’ll say yes,’ he’d assured. ‘Just promise me two things.’
‘What?’
‘You’ll never behave like a dog with six dicks again.’
‘I promise. What’s the second thing?’
‘That you let me be your best man.’
‘Agreed,’ Charlie had said with a grin.
‘When are you hoping to get hitched?’
‘Soon.’
‘How soon?’
And Charlie had grinned.
‘I’ve been making discreet enquiries at one of the most romantic wedding venues outside London.’
‘Not Goldhill Grange!’
Charlie had smirked.
‘Yup. Sweeping entrance. Beautiful gardens. Lavish accommodation. Can’t go wrong.’
‘And when’s it going to happen?’
‘I was thinking of a Christmas wedding.’
‘Nice. Gives you just over a year to plan it.’
‘No, no, no, matey. I’m talking this Christmas. And they just happen to have had a cancellation for Saturday the seventh of December.’
‘Oh my goodness. Have you reserved the date?’
And Charlie’s smirk had turned into a full-blown grin as he’d high-fived Ben.
There had then followed lots of manly back clapping and congratulations, but Ben had suddenly clamped a hand to his mouth in horror. He’d protested that he couldn’t possibly continue living under Charlie and Willow’s roof when they’d be embarking on life as newlyweds. He’d then set about making alternative accommodation arrangements. But Fate had lent a hand.
The following day Ben had surprised Charlie with the news that Anna had successfully re-mortgaged in order to buy Ben out. Consequently, Ben was now able to proceed with his newbuild purchase and a whole year sooner than anticipated. Apparently the property sales team at Ebbsfleet Valley had been in touch. The sale of the last apartment on Phase 2 had fallen through. They’d told Ben it was his if he wanted it. Ben had