Wife 75


    With a mutual understanding in ce, Noelle headed off to bed, her mind at ease. Charles, left


    alone, watched her leave and felt his carefully controlled emotions begin to bubble up again. He


    was not Mr. Perfect, but he had bent over backward for Noelle time and again.


    His phone suddenly rang, disying Peter’s number. Charles was caught off–guard. “What’s going


    on?” Peter, hearing Charles’s voice, could not resist a smirk. “Just a friendly call to pass the long


    night.”


    Peter’s voice, edged with a challenge, buzzed through the phone, and Charles squinted his eyes, a


    hint of suspicion flickering through them. “Did Sean spill the beans?” That had to be it. Peter was


    not the type to ring up in the dead of night without a good reason.


    Peter’s tone dropped. “I didn’t picture you tying the knot with her. Are you sure about this?”


    “Of course I’m sure,” Charles replied, rising from his chair. His long fingers swept across the desk,


    tapping it assuredly. “I know what I’m doing.”


    “If you say so,” Peter conceded. He was not one to poke his nose into others‘ business. “So, when


    do we get to meet her?” He was genuinely intrigued by the woman who had gotten Charles to pop


    the question. He was not a gossip hound like Sean, but he was definitely keen on meeting thisdy.


    It’s been ages since we caught up with Steven Fischer too!”


    Charles got the hint. Peter was less interested in meeting Noelle and more into luring Steven out.


    Charles gave a slight squint. “Let’s y it by ear.” It was obvious Noelle was not ready for the big


    reveal. When the time’s right, I’ll introduce her to the gang.”


    “Cool,” Peter nodded, then could not resist teasing, “So, is it true what Sean said? Are you tossing


    and turning all alone tonight?” He asked with a mischievous grin.


    Charles and Peter were not the closest, but they could poke fun at each other. Since they were both


    sharp as tacks, they often found themselves in a friendly rivalry. Peter, the master of snark, always


    yed by his own rules, while Charles, the more grounded one, was no stranger to getting crafty.


    Upon hearing Peter’s words, Charles simply said, “I remember Steven…”


    “Charles, you’re going to lose to me one of these days. Anyway, it’ste and time for bed.”


    Peter hung up, and Charles squinted into the night, surprised at how fast Sean’s gossip had


    traveled. Shaking his head, he pocketed his phone, lit a cigarette, and leaned against the balcony


    railing, staring into the sparse stars above.


    Noelle woke up refreshed and surprised to see it was nearly eight. She scrambled out of bed to get


    ready for the day.


    She had expected to toss and turn all night, but instead, she had fallen asleep almost instantly.


    Maybe it was the relief of solving her problems, or maybe Charles’s bed was magic. As she drifted


    off, she had caught the faintest whiff of lime and a hint of orange, cool and crisp.


    Descending the stairs, Noelle was greeted by the scent of something delicious. At the bottom, she


    spotted an apron–d Charles emerging from the kitchen with a steaming pot. He saw her too and


    nodded toward the dining room. “You’re awake? How’d you sleep?”


    A bit embarrassed, Noelle said, “Like a baby. Thanks for asking!” She stepped down and added,


    “What’s


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    that amazing smell? Did you make it?”


    “Yeah, Are you ready for the day?”


    She nodded. “Need a hand with anything?” Just yesterday, she had boasted about not needing a


    maid and being able to cook, yet here she was, oversleeping while Charles was the one in the


    kitchen. “You can wake me up next time. I’ll make breakfast!”


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