b“/bAnd who’s bthis/bb?/bb” /b

Jonathan’s gaze shifted to the young man sitting across from Charlotte. bCharlotte /bsmiled. “My brother, Hiram.”

“Ah, Mr. Sterling.” Jonathan reached out to shake his hand. “I’m

Pembroke–Jonathan Pembroke. I’m a friend of your sister’s.”

Hiram shook his hand, looking awkward, a little ufortable at being treated bso /bformally for the first time.

“Jonathan Pembroke? Are you eating here too?”

“Yeah, I’m here with a few friends,” Jonathan replied, ncing over his shoulder and waving to a group upstairs.

Up on the second level sat the usual crowd from his social circle–the sons and daughters of wealthy families, without a doubt.

“Weren’t you supposed to treat me to dinner? You still owe me a meal, remember?”

The thought suddenly struck Charlotte, and sheughed. “You’re right. If you hadn’t mentioned it, I probably would’ve forgotten. So, when are you free?”

Jonathan shrugged. “I’m free whenever you are.”

Charlotte nodded. “How about this weekend? I’m off work.”

He smiled faintly. “Sounds good.”

After Jonathan left, Hiram watched him go, biting down on his fork. “Sis, do you think that guy’s got a thing for you?”

Charlotte choked and coughed. “What are you talking about?”

She’d known Jonathan since college. If he’d ever been interested in her, he would’ve made a move long ago. Why wait until now?

“It’s just a feeling,” Hiram muttered, pulling a face. “What can I say? My sister’s gorgeous–guys are always trying to get close to you. People used to say we didn’t even look like siblings. Why couldn’t I have inherited at least half your looks?”

Charlotte paused mid–bite and looked up at her brother.

Hiram was probably just joking, but looking at him closely, she realized he actually took after their mother. When their mom was young, she’d been strikingly

b09:49 /b

bgood/bb–/bblooking/bb, /bband Hiram’s /bbfeatures /bwere bsharp /bband /bbhandsome /bbhe /bbcut /bba /bfine fou bShe/bb, /bbon /bbthe /bbother /bhand, didn’t look much blike their /bbmother/bb. /bbOr /bbtheir /bbfather/bb, /bbfor /bthat bmatter/bb… /b

Could it be…

A sudden thought shed through Charlotte’s mind, but she quickly dismissed bit/b.

She’d been part of the Sterling family for as long as she could remember. Something that far–fetched couldn’t possibly happen to her.

Maybe she just took after her grandmother, or someone from a previous generation. That sort of thing happened sometimes.

With that, Charlotte brushed off the thought.

After dropping Hiram off at home, Charlotte didn’t get back to Tranquility Manor until nearly nine–thirty. As she stepped inside, she was startled by the silhouette on the living room sofa.

Evander sat there, legs crossed, reclining with a casual air. One arm rested along the back of the sofa, the other holding a ss of whiskey.

He nced down at his watch. “You’ve beening hometer than usual these days.”

“I doubt Mr. Howard cares about my schedule,” Charlotte replied, walking past him.

“Wait.”

She turned, puzzled.

Evander set his ss down on the table, his expression unreadable. “What time tomorrow night?”

She blinked, taking a moment to realize what he meant.

“You… You’re agreeing toe?”

Evander didn’t answer.

Charlotte drew a steady breath. “Seven o’clock.”

With that, she headed to her bedroom.

Evander spent the night in the guest room, and Charlotte slept soundly for the first

b09:49 /b

Chapte

btime /bbin /bbages/bb. /bbEarly /bbthe /bbnext /bbmorning/bb, /bbLana /bbarrived to /bbmake /bbreakfast For bCharlotte /bband /bEvander bactually /bbmanaged /bbto /bbsit /bbdown /bband /bbfinish /bba /bbmeal /btogether

bIt /bbfelt /bbstrangely /bunfamiliar–she couldn’t remember bthe /bbst /bbtime /bbshe’d /bbpatiently /bbshared /bbreakfast with him.

No sharp words, no veiled sarcasm.

Just a rare, quiet moment.

Evander dabbed the corner of his mouth with a napkin. “iYou /igo ahead btonight/bb. /bbNo /bneed to wait for me.”

He set the napkin down, grabbed his coat, and left.

Charlotte watched him go, lost in thought.