The "Stylist" | Book I in a Series of Mistaken Identities

YOU WERE RIGHT

Melissa

As much as I wanted to go back to New York as quickly as possible to see Charlie, I had commitments, and I don't cut corners when it comes to my work. Or anything else for that matter.

I went to the meetings, I visited the family members that required visiting, and now here I am, and the "spontaneous" garden party my mom threw for me. There's got to be at least 500 people here, how is this spontaneous? She was ecstatic to hear that Dad and I had patched things up and that life would be returning to a relative normal, so her natural response was to throw a party.

I did my best to keep my distance from everyone up on the terrace. She does throw one hell of a party, but I guess it's easy when you bleed money. The theme this time, and yes there's always a theme, is white roses, gold, and fire. Why? I don't know, but somehow it works and looks beautiful.

As I scan the crowd below, I see Andrew talking with a man, who reminds me of Charlie. Andrew points up to where I'm hiding in plain sight and the man starts to make his way over. He's handsome, with golden hair and blue eyes just like Charlie, only twenty years older, and wearing a very tame suit. Charlie would never wear something this plain.

His smile screams charisma as he approaches, "Found you."

"Oh? You've been looking for me?" I keep my eyes locked on him. There's something about him that puts me on my toes. I need to watch my back with this one.

"Yes, ever since I saw you by the piano earlier." A waiter approaches with a tray of champagne flutes. The Charlie look-alike takes two and hands me one, "You've been hiding."

I shrug, "This isn't really my kind of scene."

He raises a brow, "Really? I thought this was your mother's party?"

"Yes, but I am not my mother," I pretend to sip my champagne as the man's eyes blatantly rakes me over. After what happened to Charlie at the Bahamas wedding, I refuse to drink something someone else handed me. Maybe I'm overreacting, but this man doesn't fool me.

Once he's done looking me over, he seems to nod in appreciation. Normally, this sort of behavior would be off putting, but there's something disarming about him. He knows what he's doing and seems to know exactly where the creep slash suave line meets and ends. The fact that he's extremely good-looking probably lets him get away with all sorts of things.

"No, you certainly are not your mother. My name is William, by the way," he says extending his hand and I shake it.

"Melissa." When I go to withdraw my hand, William doesn't let me. Instead, he puts his champagne on the verandah banister and does the same with mine before stepping closer. It's clear he wants to dance, and the man certainly has game, but as he steps closer, I step backwards.

I smirk and pull my hand out of his, "Excuse me," I say before heading downstairs to go speak with Andrew. I don't actually need to speak with him but right now I just want to be far away from this William guy.

Andrew watches me walk over. He glances up at the balcony behind me looking a little worried, "Is everything alright?"

"I need a cigarette," I growl at him.

Andrew reaches into his pocket and takes out a piece of candy, "Here." Andrew is a quick learner. He started carrying candy in his pockets on day two of working for me.

I grab it and starts furiously unwrapping it, "I knew there was a reason I hired you."

"You look flustered. What did Charlie 2.0 want?"

I finally manage to take off the wrapper and put the candy in my mouth, "You noticed it too, huh? I think that might be Charlie's father."

"No shit?" Andrew looks up to the terrace again. He pulls out his phone and looks something up. "Yep, that's him alright."

Andrew shows me his phone with pictures of William he's found online. I take the phone and scroll through, "They really do look alike, don't they?" I mumble, almost to myself. "I wonder what he's doing here, Charlie said he was trying to extort money out of him yesterday."

I hand Andrew the phone and he pockets it, "Do you want me to have someone look into him?"

I shake my head, "No reason to, he's done nothing to me."

Andrews phone pings and he looks at it, "Well, you were right about one thing. There's a photo of you and Charlie circulating from the Bahamas wedding. Looks like you're now officially a part of his mess."

I can't help but smirk. I don't know why but I revel when drama like this comes around. Since it's inevitable I just face it head on, horns out. Articles, words, opinions of strangers don't hurt me much. It's not because I wasn't loved as a child, or had some traumatic experience that's hardened me, it's just logic. Why should they bother me? It's comparable to someone getting offended at someone else's opinion. Everyone has them, who cares? We're all different, but we're also just people. Get over it, get over yourself and carry on. Life's too short.

The best way I can think about "dealing" with this is going public with the facts; yes, there is something between me and Charles Knight. This would mean that Charlie would have to go public with the criminal activity Debbie got herself mixed up in that night.

I pull my phone out from my purse to call Charlie, but see he's already calling and answer, "Hello Charlie."

"Hello beautiful," he sighs, "you were right."

I chuckle, "Words you might want to get used to saying."

I hear Charlie laugh and he lets out a long breath, "I'm sorry Mel, I'm sorry you got dragged into this."

"Honestly, I think it bothers you more than it does me."

"You think so?"

"I know so. If I were in your shoes and my father tried to blackmail me about Archie, I'd have told him to take a long walk off a short cliff. You say you don't want your private life out there on show for the public, but on the other hand you let them slap your face over magazine covers. You can't have it both ways." I can hear him thinking from all the way over here, "My assistant is going to send you a press package I was planning on releasing tomorrow, but I want you to look it over first."

"Alright."

"Can I come by your office tomorrow and we can talk it over?"

"Yes, but only if you wear those shorts again."

"They left quite an impression on you it seems."

"It wasn't the shorts Honey, and you know it. Now hurry up and get over here, I want to see you." He hangs up and the smile on my face is plain as day.

Andrew smirks at me all knowingly as he hits send on the email to Charlie, "You're welcome," he sings.

I get the feeling it wasn't for the email but for the spa day he booked me.