Charmed: A Prescott Novel (The Prescott Series Book 3) Read online

  His lips twisted into a smirk right before he bent over and grabbed the butt off the ground. “Happy now?”

  Who the hell did this little prick think he was? If this was a soccer game, he’d get a red card. The problem was, his parents did have the power to get me fired, so I kept my thoughts to myself.

  “Consider this your one and only warning.”

  After I walked away from the group, I went into the math building where I was tutoring one of the football players. Athletics played a large role at the university, but athletes still needed to pass. This particular athlete’s father required him to have a 3.0 GPA to remain on the team. Yes, he was good enough to go pro, but according to his dad, education came first.

  Students sat around the tables scattered throughout the large study area. Some were punching their calculators while others had their nose in a book. I spotted Thomas, the student I was there to assist, across the room. There were a couple of pretty girls sitting on either side of him, but he wasn’t paying much attention to them.

  I walked up and cleared my throat. The coeds looked up at me, one batting her eyes while the other licked her lips. Really? I’m ten years older than them.

  “Hello, Thomas.”

  He finally lifted his head. “Hey, Coach M.” Even though I wasn’t his coach, most of the student athletes called me that anyway.

  “How are we doing today?” When he nervously glanced at the women, I said, “Ladies, if you wouldn’t mind excusing us, we have a private tutoring session to begin.”

  As they sauntered away to one of the other tables, the brunette turned and addressed Thomas. “Just remember what I said.” She smiled shyly and walked away.

  I gave a quick glance behind me before I pulled the chair out to sit across from Thomas. “Ready to start?”

  He released a groan, which I totally got. I’d felt the same way about statistics at first, but ended up loving it.

  “I suppose so.” He gave me a tight smile before he pulled out his notebook.

  As I was explaining the assignment he’d been working on, I noticed I didn’t have his full attention. His eyes were fixed on whatever was going on behind me. I turned to see an adorable girl giggling at whatever the guy next to her had said. She even tossed in a hair flip for effect.

  “Friend of yours?” I might as well have been talking to myself. My student didn’t hear a word I said. “Thomas?”

  “I’m sorry, what?”

  I let out a laugh. “I asked if she was a friend of yours.”

  After a long exhale, he let his shoulders slump forward a bit. “Yeah, I suppose you could say that. According to Felicia, the girl that was here earlier, I’ve been zoned.” His lips twisted and he shrugged.

  “Zoned?” I knew I wasn’t current with all the lingo, but I wasn’t sure exactly what he meant. Then it dawned on me.

  “Yeah, FZO, friend zone only, which means I don’t have a shot with her.” His voice was full of defeat.

  I was ready to tell him there were a lot of other girls to choose from when he hit me with, “Have you ever liked someone so much that when she walks into a room, the air changes? And then you find out you’ll only ever be friends?”

  All I could do was nod. Yes, I knew exactly what that felt like. I felt that way every time I saw Gretchen. We were friends, but was I zoned? I wasn’t sure, but this wasn’t about me.

  “Thomas, if you like her more than a friend, then tell her. If you truly are friends, you’ll remain that way. If not, well, you’ll never know if you don’t try.”

  “I suppose you’re right. I never did hear that from her.” His gaze moved to where she was sitting before coming back to me. “Thanks, Coach M, that’s what I’ll do.” His expression turned sly when he added, “Maybe you should take your own advice.”

  I nodded. Yeah, maybe I should.

  CHAPTER 11

  ~ Gretchen ~

  Going to Josh’s home for Sunday dinner was going to be a bit different this time. Granted, my family all knew I was leaving for California this week, but saying it over the phone and seeing their faces were two different things.

  When I talked to Dane, he had given me his opinion on Jonas, which was a bit different from Jack’s. According to Dane, Jonas was the agent to have, but since he didn’t represent any golfers and knew of his reputation, Dane didn’t entertain the thought of approaching him.

  When I walked in, everyone was sitting in the living room. The aroma from the kitchen wafted through the air, and I knew that Josh had outdone himself.

  Before I interrupted everyone, I watched them for a few minutes. Beverly and Lucy were chatting on the sofa while Dane, Drake, Jack, and Josh were watching a hockey game. Then there was little Katie, who was lying on the floor coloring in her Snow White coloring book. Sadly, my parents were away, and when I told them my plans, they weren’t happy they’d miss seeing me before I left, but I assured them everything was fine.

  I looked at the family pictures on the mantel and smiled before saying, “Hi, everyone.”

  They all looked in my direction as I walked toward them. Each greeted me with a hug. Saying good-bye was going to be harder than I thought.

  * * *

  As usual, dinner was fantastic. The conversation was light and fun, but it was finally time to let them know my travel plans.

  “So, I thought I’d let you know that my flight is tomorrow morning. I just received my confirmation.” I took a sip of my water as all conversation ceased.

  “Tomorrow?” When Lucy’s voice cracked, Drake put his arm around her and kissed the top of her head. “That’s so soon.”

  “I know, but just think—the sooner I leave, the sooner I’ll be back.” I smiled, hoping that she would too. Then I glanced around the table. Actually, I hoped they all would.

  “I’m proud of you, sis.” Josh raised his glass to me. “Enjoy Cali, but remember where home is.”

  His words made me smile. “Thanks, Josh.”

  The rest of the family fell in line. After a few tears and receiving good-luck wishes, and promising to call at least one of them daily, I left feeling completely loved.

  * * *

  When I arrived on the West Coast the next day, LAX was bustling. The flight announcements over the PA system were so constant they began to meld together, sounding like a Charlie Brown cartoon. Business travelers in suits rushed to catch their planes, and then there were the casual LA people who strolled through the terminal as if they didn’t have a care in the world.

  Once I retrieved my luggage, I made my way to the taxi area where an older man in a black suit was holding a sign with my name on it.

  “Hi.” I pointed to his sign. “I’m Gretchen Prescott.”

  “Welcome to Los Angeles, Ms. Prescott. Let me take your luggage for you.” He tucked the sign under one arm and grasped the pull handle for my large suitcase with his other hand.

  “Thank you . . .” I realized I didn’t know his name. “I’m sorry, what’s your name?”

  “Michael.”

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Michael, and please call me Gretchen.”

  We made our way outside and I blinked when the warm air hit my skin, a big contrast to the chilly air in Virginia this time of year. We stopped in front of a black BMW sedan where he popped the trunk and stowed my belongings before we got in the car. Naturally, he opened and closed my door for me. Although he was kind, it was unnecessary.

  “Your brother has instructed me to take you anywhere you’d like to go, unless you’d just like to go to his home.”

  “His home would be great. Thank you, Michael.” I sat back and sent a quick group text to the family to let them know I landed safely, then another to Mason.

  GRETCHEN: Guess where I am?

  MASON: Tahiti?

  I let out a giggle and quickly changed his contact info again as I watched the palm trees sway through the window.

  GRETCHEN: Leaving LAX.

  SURFER BOY: Was it something I said?
/>   My giggle turned into a full-blown laugh.

  GRETCHEN: Ha-ha. I’m on my way to Malibu.

  SURFER BOY: You’re here?

  GRETCHEN: I am. I’m excited to see you. Dinner this week?

  SURFER BOY: Sounds great.

  GRETCHEN: You pick the place. I’m new here.

  SURFER BOY: How about I grab dinner from my favorite restaurant and bring it to you?

  A huge smile grew across my face.

  GRETCHEN: Perfect.

  SURFER BOY: Friday at seven?

  GRETCHEN: Yes, that should be fine. I’ll see you then.

  I sent him the address and let out a relieved breath.

  As the car came to a stop at Jack’s driveway’s entrance, his home came into view. Once I entered the code, the security gate swung open, and excitement coursed through me as I took in the sight of his gorgeous home. It was all Jack, California style, a beautiful large cream-colored stucco home with Spanish arches and a red-tiled roof. If there was one thing I remembered about this house, it was the spa-like retreat Jack had created. I couldn’t wait to see if my memory did it justice.

  Michael helped me with my bags. I walked into the kitchen to grab him a bottle of water, which he gladly accepted before he left. Of course, he offered to carry my luggage, but I couldn’t wait to be alone. Once the door was shut, I grabbed my bags and made my way up the curved marble staircase. The room I used the last time I was here looked exactly the same. There was a king-sized bed with plush bedding in the softest shade of blue that looked like the ocean. Which reminded me . . .

  I stowed my things and quickly freshened up, then ran downstairs to the French doors leading to the patio. I swung them open and the salty breeze hit me. Wave after wave rolled in and gently caressed the shoreline. Tonight, I’d sit outside and enjoy the sounds of the ocean, the sparkle of the stars, and the serenity of solitude.

  The next morning was just how I remembered California mornings to be from my previous visits—a gorgeous sunrise, just enough heat in the air, and the smell of saltwater. I poured myself a cup of coffee, set up my laptop on the patio table, and started to work on Jonas’s website. I’d mocked up some pages while I was on the plane, but now was prepared to streamline them and make them functional.

  The day flew by, and when the light-blue sky turned dark, I shut my laptop and called it a night.

  * * *

  My week was productive, Jonas was pleased, the weather was fantastic, and tonight I was going to see Mason. To say I was excited was an understatement. Jonas had been wonderful. Which could be because he had loved what I’d done to the website so far.

  Work was great, and my surroundings were even better. Spotify had become my new best friend. Listening to various artists while working, catching some needed sun, and floating in Jack’s pool were just what I needed.

  Solitude was great, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss my family and friends. I knew they were all giving me space, but even with my favorite singer crooning in the background, I missed our conversations.

  When the gate buzzer rang, my heart jumped, and I could feel my cheeks stretch into a big smile. I jumped up to press the gate release and hurried to open the front door to greet Mason. He parked the car in the drive and climbed out of his car, and if he weren’t holding a bag of food and a bottle of wine, I would have jumped in his arms.

  “Hey, surfer boy.” I reached for the bottle and took it from him, freeing his one arm to pull me into a hug.

  “Princess, don’t you look beautiful.” He placed a swift kiss on the top of my head.

  The short sundress I was wearing was very California. It was a bit shorter than I’d usually wear, but when in Cali . . .

  “Thank you. Come on in.”

  Mason let out a whistle. “Damn, nice digs. This kitchen is bigger than my apartment.”

  “You know my brother. Go big or go home.” I laughed. “Come on, let’s take this out to the patio and eat.”

  We sat down in comfortable silence and dug into our dinner. Everything was delicious, from the fish tacos to the Caesar salad.

  “This is fantastic.” I took the napkin off my lap to dab my lips before taking a sip of wine.

  “I wasn’t sure what you liked.” He shrugged. “I’m glad I picked the right place. Chives is my favorite restaurant out here. I’ll take you there one day.”

  “That’d be nice, thanks.”

  He asked me about work and how I liked being here. Our conversation flowed, but something was off. There was definitely an elephant in the room, and his name was Scott. It was time to clear the air.

  I raised my glass of merlot. “To new beginnings, fun adventures, a lifetime of surprises, and for making our resolutions come true.”

  Mason looked across the table and smiled. Once our glasses clinked together in a reminder of New Year’s Eve, we each took a sip of our wine.

  “Gretch, about what happened.” He set his glass down and ran his hand along the back of his neck. “I’m sorry.” After a pause, he let out a breath. “That’s not entirely accurate.”

  CHAPTER 12

  ~ Mason ~

  Gretchen’s eyes widened, her skin flushed, and my heart raced. What was she thinking? What was I even saying? I didn’t want to confuse the issue, but there were things I needed to get off my chest.

  “You shouldn’t be sorry,” she said quickly, “because you have nothing to be sorry for. The truth of the matter is, yes, we’re friends and have known each other for a while, but we haven’t hung out a lot together. We didn’t do anything wrong. Scott knew we were friends. The point is, he’s the one who ended it—not me.”

  “That’s not all.” I grabbed the bottle and poured some wine into her glass, then poured the rest in mine. “I’m not sorry I told you. I’m sorry that I saw him at the airport.”

  “Which airport? When?”

  “Shit, Gretch, I don’t know how to say this or if I even should.” Our eyes never broke contact, and I prayed that what I had to say wouldn’t dim the light in hers.

  “At Dulles on Christmas morning.”

  Dread washed over me. Not that I was fabricating the story, but if my words hurt her, I’d feel horrible. Her eyes implored me to continue, so I did.

  “He wasn’t alone.” I leaned back in my chair as if a weight had lifted off of me, but I knew she needed more of an explanation. Did I offer up the information? What if it was his secretary or a colleague? Shit. Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything.

  “Who was he with?” Her voice was a notch above a whisper.

  “I don’t know, but whoever she was, they looked friendly.”

  Gretchen nodded, obviously knowing exactly what I thought I saw, and her lips quirked up. “You didn’t happen to get a video, did you?”

  It was when she smiled that I was able to breathe, and I chuckled. “No, no video. Didn’t cross my mind.”

  She laughed. “That’s because you’re a decent man. I should probably wonder who it was, but it doesn’t matter. It’s done. We’re over.”

  This was what I adored about Gretchen. She had every right to be pissed or upset, but she wasn’t. Or maybe she just didn’t let on that she was. Whatever the case might be, I was glad I’d told her.

  The wrought-iron legs scraped against the stone patio as she pushed her chair away from the table. In a quick motion, she cleared the dishes and closed that discussion. I got up to help, and we were done cleaning up in no time.

  “More wine?” She opened a small refrigerator next to the largest one I’d ever seen.

  “Sounds good. Let me help you.”

  She handed me the bottle and smiled. After I had popped the cork, she grabbed our glasses and we made our way to the sofa. Watching her hips sway and the casual confidence she exuded made me happy.

  “My brother has the life.” She picked up a remote, aimed it at the wall, and the fireplace clicked on. Golden flames filled the space.

  “What about you, Gretch? Your life isn’t all tha
t bad. Yes, it’s taken a turn you didn’t expect, but maybe if it didn’t, you wouldn’t be in California. Didn’t you say something about a list?”

  “Yes.”

  She set her glass down on the side table, jumped up like her ass was on a spring, and scooted out of the room. Before I could call out to her, she was back holding a large binder that had to be three inches thick.

  “What’s that?”

  “My list.”

  “That’s not a list, that’s a manifest.”

  She playfully swatted my chest. “Shut up. It’s broken down by geographic location.”

  Was she serious? How many places were there?

  Gretchen opened the binder, ran her finger down the side until she landed on the tab she wanted, and flipped a couple of pages. “Paris, Grand Canyon, London . . . ah, here we are—Cal-i-for-ni-a.”

  Her singsong voice made me laugh. “Okay, let me hear this list.”

  Before she started, she reached for her glass and took a healthy sip, then crossed her legs under her and angled her body toward mine. Visions of her bare, toned legs wrapped around my waist infiltrated my brain as I watched her.

  “This is in no particular order.”

  “Hit me with them, princess.”

  I started laughing. Gretchen had to be the most adorable woman on the planet, not to mention the most excitable. I was starting to wish I had a notebook of my own to set on my lap as camouflage.

  She cleared her throat. “Number one, drive the Pacific Coast Highway in a sleek convertible.”

  “I can help you with that. Next.”

  “We’ll use Jack’s car. Number two, go to Marilyn Monroe’s spot on Hollywood Boulevard and put my hands where hers have been.”

  “Check. Next?” If this was what her list was like, we could knock them all out before she left.