Charlie swore he was innocent.
That’s why they hated him so much.
“If he’d just man up and confess,” the men explained, “then things might be different.”
But Charlie refused to change his plea, accusing his accountant of the crime. Every penny of the firm’s investment funds went missing, and – conveniently enough – so did the accountant.
A lot of that money came from those old sailors, and each and every one of them had been counting on the returns that they’d been promised.
In spite of the seriousness of his (alleged) crime, and the losses the men had suffered, the women still adored Charlie.
They believed in his innocence, and went so far as to comfort him during the trial… sending him letters that smelled of perfume… and even taking him casseroles!
That really pissed the men off. It was like salt in the wound… a real slap in the face. Now, however, seeing Charlie swoon over Veronica was like winning the lotto. If they couldn’t get their money back, at least they’d see him pay.
(If you missed Part I, you can read it HERE)
The pub across from Harbor House was like a circus on Friday nights. The men would pile in before happy hour, just to get the window seats.
Like clockwork, Charlie would arrive at the restaurant early – at 7 pm on the nose. The men would watch from the pub, cursing (like the sailors that they were) as he slipped old Wadsworth a Benjamin.
In exchange, the couple would be seated in an exclusive patio booth… where their privacy was ensured, and the drinks would soon flow.
It was Bert who discovered that, with the right lenses, you could see everything that went on in that booth, between the two hibiscus, providing the trees were properly pruned.
As it turned out, Mac the gardener was indebted to Bert (although no one knew why), so those limbs were trimmed and tidied every Friday, whether they needed it or not… rain or shine.
It was 8 pm already and Veronica hadn’t shown. She was always there at 7:30… always. In the pub, far too many pints had gone down, and the men were getting wild.
“Give me those binoculars,” Ernie slurred, attempting to rip the pair off of Lester’s neck.
The straps got caught on his chin, and poor Lester nearly choked. The next thing you know, those boys were going at it… trying to fight, but mostly falling all over each other…
Then somebody yelled, “She’s coming!”
Everyone rushed toward the front. Lester was halfway off the floor, leaning against the window to steady himself, and he lifted his nocks to look out.
A town car sat idling in the valet area, and Charlie hurried down the drive to get the door. Those men in the pub had their noses to the glass, and they watched in silence as the dazzling young woman stepped onto the curb.
There was only one problem. That woman was not Veronica.
….to be continued.
So, I started a NEW book… The Science of Storytelling, by Will Storr.
I go down rabbit holes when I’m reading, because one book mentions another, and then that book raves about another… and they all sound SO interesting. Luckily I buy most of them used, so it’s never a big dent.
Anyway, this book was mentioned in A Million Little Miracles and it’s a very good book so far. Something he said about giving readers “part” of the picture (but not all) to help build their curiosity, lit my brain today with the idea for my featured image. “Aha!” I thought. “Let’s try a ‘partial’ woman!”
Good thing, because originally it was an illustration of Charlie holding a sad looking bouquet. Booooring. Haha! I am pleased because this one does keep you guessing. Hopefully the story has sparked a little intrigue as well.
That’s about all for now. Thank you for reading… I hope you enjoyed!
“The mind that opens to a new idea never returns to its original size.” -Albert Einstein
a sprinkle of faith 
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