It was a well-known fact that Charlotte Evans did not like surprises.
She especially did not like surprises that came in the form of an eighteen-year-old boy on her doorstep with a bouquet of flowers at seven in the morning.
"Ian?" Charlotte asked in confusion. Maybe she was dreaming.
"H-hey, Charlie," Ian stuttered, rubbing the back of his neck. Charlotte blinked at him.
"What's up?"
"These are for you," he said, thrusting the flowers at her. They were peonies—her least favorite. Charlotte took them and shuffled them awkwardly under her arm.
"Thanks? Is there a specific reason that you're giving me flowers?"
"Formal."
Charlotte blinked. "I'm sorry?"
"The winter formal," he clarified. "I wanted to know if you'd go with me?"
"Oh." Charlotte's eyes widened in surprise. "When is it?"
"This weekend."
Charlotte breathed a slight sigh of relief, glad that she already had plans.
"I've got a training to do this weekend."
"Oh," he said sullenly. "Can't somebody else handle it?"
Charlotte was shivering slightly now and was regretting her decision to not pull on a sweatshirt before answering the door.
"Not really. Besides, I already put Mason on the schedule for this weekend."
"Mason? You mean that new guy?"
Charlotte wanted to roll her eyes but stopped herself. Ian knew perfectly well who Mason was, they'd met a half a dozen times already.
"I'm sure that the girls can handle it. How hard could it be?" Ian whined.
Charlotte stiffened and narrowed her eyes. "I'm the boss. So, no, I can't miss it. Besides, isn't there a rule about age limits for attendees of the dance if they don't go to the school?"
"Yeah, but I was going to get an exception. I bet they'd let you come, you only just graduated."
"I can't, Ian. Thank you, but no."
"Fine," Ian said, crossing his arms. "Sorry to interrupt your day off."
And then he turned and stomped down the snowy steps into her yard, leaving Charlotte thoroughly irritated.
***
Charlotte was in a bad mood, and Mason couldn't figure out why.
"Charlotte?"
She didn't respond, but the scone that she was shredding on her plate had been reduced to a pile of crumbs and frosting.
"Charlotte?" he asked again, tapping her lightly on the arm. She jumped.
"What?" she asked, eyes wide.
"Did that scone do something to hurt your feelings?"
"Huh?"
Mason gestured to the massacred pastry on her plate.
"Oh. I'm fine."
He snorted. "If you're fine, then I'm Drew Barrymore."
"I always thought you were a dead-ringer for Drew," Devin said sarcastically.
Mason leaned towards Charlotte, a serious expression on his face. "What's going on?"
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the other side of us | ✓
Novela JuvenilCharlotte Evans doesn't date. Never has, never will. The only thing that matters is her dad and her bakery-turned-coffee-shop in the tiny town she calls home. Mason Carlyle is far from innocent, and after a frame job gets him arrested and adds to h...