Chapter 3

I set the crab shell down on my plate with a soft clink.

Charlotte glanced at me, then turned to Nathan. "Go ahead and eat, Nathan."

As if given permission, Nathan's tone grew gentler. "Charlotte, I'm back to stay in Riverdale. I've built quite a network out there over the years and can help you."

Emily rolled her eyes. "Help Charlotte do what? Help her get a divorce?"

Nathan didn't deny it.

He looked at me, his politeness sharp enough to sting. "Mr. Sinclair, please forgive my bluntness. A woman like Charlotte should not be trapped in an ordinary life."

Linda's face fell. "Say that again."

Nathan spoke unhurriedly. "If she married you only out of gratitude, she will grow tired sooner or later. You ought to know your place, Mr. Sinclair."

Emily grabbed a soup spoon, ready to hurl it at him. I held her back. "The soup is boiling hot."

Nathan watched my hand, his smile widening. "You have quite the temper."

I asked, "What exactly are you getting at, Mr. Goodwin?"

"What I mean is, I can offer you a sum of money if you are willing to leave Charlotte," he replied.

Emily shrieked. "What do you take Andrew for?"

Ignoring her, Nathan went on. "Name what you want. A house, a car, or money. As long as you agree to leave Charlotte, I can give you anything."

Charlotte didn't stop him right away. She merely frowned at me, as if waiting for my answer too.

I finished peeling the last crab and placed the meat onto Emily's plate. "I don't want anything from you."

"Is it that you think my offer is too low?" Nathan pressed.

"No. I think your things are dirty," I said.

Emily slammed her palm against the table at once. "Well said."

Nathan's face dropped.

Charlotte finally spoke. "Andrew, apologize."

Emily stared, confused. "Charlotte, who are you telling to apologize?"

Charlotte's eyes stayed on me. "Nathan is our guest."

Linda shot to her feet, her chair scraping hard against the floor. "You would humiliate your own husband for a guest?"

"That isn't what I meant," Charlotte said.

Nathan sighed. "Let it go, Charlotte. Don't let me cause strife in your family."

I wiped my hands. "I'm sorry, Mr. Goodwin."

Emily called out in alarm, "Andrew!"

Nathan watched me bow my head, the triumph in his eyes impossible to hide. "It's fine. I am not a petty man."

I stood up to clear the plates.

Charlotte cut in suddenly. "Don't clear them. Let the housekeeper handle it."

But we didn't have a housekeeper.

Linda's face turned livid.

Emily asked, "Charlotte, what are you talking about?"

Charlotte paused, as if only realizing what she had said. "I will have domestic help come tomorrow."

Nathan chuckled softly. "You should have lived like this long ago, Charlotte."

I set the plates back down on the table. "Very well."

Linda grabbed my arm. "Andrew, don't listen to her nonsense."

I glanced toward the red bucket in the corner. "Mom, I'm going for groceries tomorrow. I need that bucket."

Linda's face went pale in an instant.

Emily panicked too. "I'll go for groceries, Andrew. Don't use that bucket."

Nathan turned slowly toward the scuffed-red pail with its faded paint.

He let out a laugh. "You sure are sentimental, Mr. Sinclair."

Charlotte's lips pressed into a thin line as she stared at the bucket. "Andrew, put that thing away."

"Alright," I said.

I walked over to the corner and had just touched the bucket's handle when Linda lunged forward and kicked it hard under the couch.

"Nobody touches this bucket!" she shouted.

*****

The next morning, Charlotte had not come back to the bedroom to sleep.

When I came downstairs, she sat on the living-room sofa with a completely cold cup of coffee in front of her.

Nathan was there as well. He wore a light-gray suit, acting as if he had not gotten chewed out the night before.

Emily stood guard by the staircase in her pajamas, clutching a throw pillow. Dark circles hung under her eyes from staying up late.

She jumped up the second she saw me. "Andrew, you're awake? I made you oatmeal."

Linda poked her head out from the kitchen. "Andrew, don't cook. Nobody gets to order you around today."

Charlotte frowned. "Mom, you two are overreacting."

Nathan gave a faint smile. "Charlotte, I can tell Mr. Sinclair is quite pampered in this household."

Emily shot right back at him. "Of course he's more welcome than you are."

Nathan set a document down on the coffee table. "I'm here to talk business."

Charlotte glanced at him. "About what?"

"I want to join Summers & Co. and work alongside you," he explained.

Emily scoffed. "What a pipe dream."

Nathan turned to me. "You wouldn't mind, would you, Mr. Sinclair?"

I picked up my bowl of oatmeal. "The company belongs to Charlotte."

Charlotte studied my face, trying to read some kind of reaction from me.

I started eating my oatmeal.