The Missing Bridegroom: A Charlotte Chase Mystery (The Charlotte Chase Mysteries Book 1) by Georgia London

Author:Georgia London [London, Georgia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: UNKNOWN
Published: 2016-10-10T23:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FIVE

It was Freya who abandoned her surveillance of the staircase to race toward the front door and bark. Fritz followed, but kept silent. It was always the way; she was the guard dog of the two, if one could ever call a Newfie such a thing.

Charlotte looked out of the front window and sighed wearily.

“Who’s that?” Samantha asked. “Is it my father?”

“No. It is my ex-husband.”

She opened the door and the dogs ran out, their tails wagging happily as they pressed their furry bodies close to Peter. He put up his hands in a gesture of surrender. They were still damp and he obviously didn’t want them too close. When they moved away from him, he began to walk toward the house, toward Charlotte.

“What are you doing here?” She asked.

He gave her that smile, the smile that used to be able to melt her heart and persuade her to anything. She was relieved to find it had little effect. He leaned forward to kiss her cheek, but thankfully took the hint when she pulled her face away.

“We need to talk.”

“Why? Have you sold the house? You need me to sign something? You could have posted it.”

“Not yet, no. I’ve had a few thoughts about that and I’d like to talk to you about them. Aren’t you going to ask me in?”

“It wasn’t my intention, no.”

“Come on, Charlotte. I’ve come a long way; I could do with a drink.”

He eyed Samantha’s Porsche appreciatively. It didn’t seem like the sort of car Charlotte would buy, especially as it wasn’t big enough for her precious dogs, but you never knew. He freely admitted he knew little about her really. She had accused him of trying to mould her to his ideas and she was right. That would all change now.

“Nice car,” he said. “Florrie must have left you more than you expected.”

What the hell was he talking about? Charlotte allowed her gaze to follow his and she grinned, but did not correct him. Let him think the Porsche was hers; it wouldn’t do her any harm.

Inside she poured him tea from the pot already made and handed it to him.

“Don’t you have anything stronger?” He asked.

“The only alcohol in our house was the stuff you bought,” she answered curtly. “Or was that something else about me that went over your head?”

“Let’s not get off on the wrong foot, Charlotte. That television producer phoned, wanting to know if you’d be prepared to sign up for another TV show. I told him you wouldn’t be interested.”

“You did? Why? Did you think perhaps I wouldn’t be, or is that what you wanted?”

He looked about the kitchen with the same appreciation in his eyes that he’d had for the Porsche. Take out this enormous table and this kitchen was easily big enough to cook for more than just a family. They could fit a big, catering sized cooker in there, get a bigger fridge. It was ideal.

His glance fell on the enormous garden at the back that dropped down to the beach at the end.

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