Off the Mark, page 28
She hummed. “Just one of the many amazing things you’ll do.”
I almost suggested we get out of here—not because I didn’t want to see Charlie celebrated at a fancy event. But I desperately wanted her all to myself.
Above us, the lights flickered. Charlie said, “That means it’s dinnertime. Come on, I’ve got a surprise for you.”
Inside the gala room, we spotted our table, where two people were murmuring over their program. They looked up as we approached, and Charlie brightened.
I squeezed her hand in shock as soon as I recognized them.
“You must be Leonard and Gloria Wilkinson,” she said. “I’m Charlie Maddox.”
The woman, Gloria, stood and took Charlie’s hand. “Oh, we know who you are. According to the staff, we have you to thank for sneaking us into the best table in the house, right in front of the stage.”
“Please, it’s my pleasure. You do a lot for motocross and you do a lot for Philadelphia. Consider it a tiny show of gratitude for your generosity.”
Charlie pulled out our chairs and indicated I should sit. I did, though not before shaking hands with Gloria and Leonard.
They were a middle-aged couple in their mid-fifties, at ease with each other and thrilled to be in Charlie’s presence. Leonard was a Black man with dark brown skin and a warm smile. His wife, Gloria, was white with pale, silver hair and giant diamond earrings.
Charlie had orchestrated this table setup so that I was sitting next to one of Philadelphia’s most famously philanthropic couples.
It wasn’t only their deep family roots here in the city that made Elaine always refer to them as “dream donors.” It was what they were passionate about—from Meals on Wheels to elder healthcare, the Wilkinsons cared about neighborhood senior programs more than anything else.
My brain yelled something like holy fucking shit.
“Rowan O’Callaghan,” I said, flashing a smile. “How do you know Charlie?”
“We know of her, but we’ve never met in person,” Leonard said smoothly. “You’re one of our favorites, by the way. But don’t tell the others.”
Charlie blushed. “Happy to keep it a secret. Correct me if I’m wrong, but you’ve got…two kids who race dirt bikes, right?”
Leonard beamed back at her. “We’ve got four kids. Three daredevils and one very studious bookworm, who clearly takes after me. Our oldest son and youngest daughter race dirt bikes—”
“And our daughter said if we met you, could you please sign this?” Gloria added, sliding a motocross magazine with Charlie’s face on the cover across the table.
She pulled a pen from her pocket and said, “Always an honor. Can I ask what the daredevil kid you didn’t mention does?”
“They’re a snowboarder,” Leonard said, “and talented too. We spend winters up in the Poconos so they can practice but then summers down here for the dirt bike racers—”
“And our bookworm daughter is happy all four seasons as long as she has a book to read or a test to study for,” Gloria finished, turning her head towards me. “It’s how we got involved in motocross. We’re new to the community, but our son and daughter said it was good for the sport, to see it expand and grow. And anything that makes them happy makes us happy.”
Charlie finished signing her name with a flourish. “Tell both of your dirt bike racers they can message me any time. I wrote my email address on the inside, as long as that’s okay with you both. They don’t have to race pro, but if they do and have questions, I’m happy to answer them.”
“She’ll be overjoyed,” Gloria said. “She’s trying to get us to go to Miami for the race you’ve got that weekend in September. You’ll be leaving for it soon, I’m sure?”
A clammy chill raced down my spine at the reminder that Charlie didn’t live here. That she lived the life I used to—on the move, on the road, going where the money and competitions were.
Yet she’d crashed back into my life and cracked my heart wide open. I tried to picture my days without Charlie by my side, and my mind went completely blank.
Was this why Dean looked mildly unhappy whenever Tabitha was out of the room for more than five minutes?
“I’ll be there, so if you do go, come find me,” Charlie replied. “After Miami, I think I’m in…Atlanta? Then back to New York for a bit, and then there’s that huge exhibition race in Arizona before the holidays.”
Gloria and Leonard nodded before sending a questioning glance my way. Charlie laid a hand on my arm and said, “Rowan’s my boyfriend, in case you’re wondering.”
“It’s rather obvious,” Gloria said kindly. “Rowan, do you travel together? You must miss her when she’s gone.”
I realized I didn’t have to make up some story that benefited Charlie’s reputation. I wasn’t sitting here as her fake anything. So I told the truth instead.
“I miss Charlie constantly,” I said, feeling the tension in her hand where she touched me. “But travel I’m used to. I played baseball when I was younger and being away is just the reality. I’m pretty comfortable with it.”
I sensed the weight of Charlie’s attention on me. I shifted my arm to take her hand, curling our fingers together.
“And what do you do now?” Leonard asked.
“I’m the…” I hesitated. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Charlie start to smile. “I’m the executive director of the South Philly Recreation Center. Do you know it?”
“No, but I grew up in West Philly, and the rec center was like my second home,” Gloria said immediately. “What do you provide there?”
“Community, mostly,” I said. “Programs for kids, cooking classes, we’ve got social workers on staff and public health nurses. And a couple years ago I helped start a senior food program.”
Leonard’s brow furrowed. “Like Meals on Wheels?”
“Similar, yep. We kept seeing that our elderly neighbors weren’t getting connected to the services they needed. We had neighbors with nothin’ to eat in their fridges, but they’d never say a word. Never ask for help. I realized it had more to do with trust than access. So I hired two people to oversee it, with the goal to build trust one-on-one with neighbors we couldn’t reach before.”
“Amazing,” Leonard said. “You tailored a program to fit the unique needs of your neighbors and not the other way around.”
I grinned. “It’s South Philly, you know you can’t tell us to do nothin’. But folks know what they need, as long as someone’s honestly interested in the answer.”
Gloria returned my smile. “I felt that way growing up about the community we built around the rec centers. There was always something special that wasn’t easily replicated.” She touched me lightly on the arm. “I’m happy to know that kind of work is being done all over. Being the director’s a tough job, but it seems like the right fit for you.”
It’d been a hot August night, a lot like this one, when Elaine dragged me into her office and asked if I had any extra time to help out around the center on a part-time basis. She said she’d seen Alice at church, learned how I’d been cut from the Mets and was home for good, and had I ever considered community work?
I’d muttered something noncommittal—sure, yeah, I can help—never realizing that she’d been giving me a lifeline, a purpose, something bigger than my injury to focus on.
“It’s tough, but maybe it’s the ballplayer in me.” I tossed a covert wink at Charlie. “I’ve always loved a challenge.”
The crowd started to applaud as a woman took to the podium, introducing herself as one of the convention coordinators. The lights dimmed most of the way, and the audience started to still. I was turning in my seat when Leonard tapped me on the arm.
“Gloria and I would love to come for a visit and learn more about your program,” he said, slipping me his business card.
I barely managed to keep my cool. “I’d love to have you down.”
There was a presentation happening on stage, but I was too busy feeling victorious. Because I knew—knew it the way I used to catch a runner trying to steal—that Gloria and Leonard were the miracle donors the food program needed. They were locals who’d grown up in rec centers and who seemed to already get why ours was special.
I leaned in to Charlie, whispered, “They’re interested in coming on a tour.”
She suppressed an actual squeal and kissed me hard on the lips. I laughed softly against her mouth and let the kiss deepen for all of a second. Any more than that and we’d be finding a utility closet somewhere.
“I know what you did for me tonight. What would people do if they found out this bad girl was a secret softie?”
She held a finger to her lips. “Don’t blow my cover, O’Callaghan.” Then her expression shifted, growing serious. “You’re going to do incredible work as the director. Your parents would be so proud of you. I’m…I’m proud of you.”
I couldn’t reply, at least not verbally. But I kissed the top of her hand and let her see how strongly those words affected me.
“Now, of course, we’ll be doing awards all night in between our program,” the woman on stage said cheerfully, “but this wouldn’t be the championship gala without the fan award. Presented to the dirt bike racer that fans have voted on as their favorite for the year. It’s an indication of the rider to watch, the one whose racing style and technique has captivated our base of supporters.”
Surprised, my eyes darted up to the stage. “Wait, you didn’t tell me there’d be awards tonight.”
“Because it’s no big deal,” she whispered back. “I mean, it is a big deal, but it’s mostly a popularity contest, and I’ve never been about that life.”
I arched a disbelieving brow. “Even though your fans are obsessed with you, and you’re also a two-time X Games winner with Bettencourt printed on the back of your jacket?”
She fidgeted with the straps of her jumpsuit, averting her gaze. “That doesn’t necessarily mean—”
“And we are so happy to announce that this year’s winner is none other than Charlie Maddox,” the announcer yelled.
The applause that erupted was instantaneous. Charlie froze in her seat with her mouth wide open.
“Oh my goodness, congratulations,” Gloria exclaimed.
“Charlie?” The announcer peered at us from the stage. “Would you like to come up?”
Charlie glanced at me with an expression of pure astonishment. I grinned at her, nudging her knees. “They’re calling your name, Maddox. Go give the people what they want.”
She rose from her seat as if in a dream, slowly climbing the stairs to the podium on stage. I couldn’t have turned away from her even if I tried. She took a shaky breath, and I swear I felt it.
People hooted and whistled as Charlie accepted her award. “Thank you…so much,” she said, speaking into the mic. “To say that I’m…stunned is an understatement. This sport, this community, these fans are everything to me.”
She swallowed and gripped the podium. “When I was five years old, I asked my dad if he could teach me how to fly. And the next day, he had me on a tiny dirt bike in our backyard. I don’t remember much except that from the moment I started, I never wanted to stop. Malcolm Maddox is a legend in this sport, but he’s also my dad, and he never, ever gave up on me. Whenever I worried there was something I couldn’t do, he was there to remind me that I was unstoppable.”
Long applause followed this mention of her dad. Then Charlie looked directly at me.
“And to my boyfriend, Rowan. Having you here tonight as my date is an honor. Thank you for always seeing me, for seeing the real me. You are extraordinary in every single way.”
The audience clapped again as she finished and took pictures with her trophy. Meanwhile, my body was in a euphoric crisis—palms sweating, skin clammy, breath shallow.
The realization dawned so easily. I was in love with Charlie. Like, run through the streets yelling about it kind of love. And that wasn’t the part that was scary.
I’d been in love with her for a long, long time.
It was realizing that now I had to tell her.
And hope beyond hope that she loved me back.
26
ROWAN
Two hours later, the dinner wrapped up and I walked out into the lobby with my arm slung around Charlie’s neck, wearing the goofiest smile imaginable.
A bunch of other shit happened after Charlie won her award, but I barely took it in. I was too focused on touching her, whispering jokes in her ear, watching her bask in the glow of fans wanting pictures and autographs.
I was gonna tell her tonight. I had to—even now, the words crowded the back of my throat, making it tough to swallow. It’d be easy, right? Now that we’re not fake dating anymore, I figured it was the best time to mention that I’m in love with you and have been forever.
My stomach twisted into knots so fast I worried I might puke.
“I still can’t believe I won this,” she murmured, stroking a finger across her name on the gold plate. “I sent a picture to my dad and Penny, and they lost their minds over it.”
“It’s a big deal. You’re a big deal.”
She pinched two fingers together. “Maybe a little. But I don’t want to brag too much and make you feel bad.”
I laughed, pressing my lips into her hair. I was just about to say something corny like you wanna get the hell out of here?
But then Dempsey walked up to us—mouth set in a grim line—and we froze.
“Dempsey, hey…what’s wrong?” Charlie asked.
“Can I speak to you for a second? In private?” her agent asked.
I gingerly removed the award from Charlie’s hands. “I can hold this for you. I’ll be right over here, okay?”
She didn’t respond. She was walking quickly into a side hallway, tension radiating from her body already. I raked my hand through my hair and tried to look anywhere else, not wanting to spy. It was impossible though—my focus was glued on Charlie as she listened to whatever it was Dempsey was telling her.
Shock exploded across Charlie’s face. Then a gradual, creeping anger. That wasn’t what had pain shooting through my chest—it was the way her shoulders hunched forward in defeat.
Dempsey pulled her in for a hug, Charlie nodding at what she said. In a flash, she was walking away, away from me and the crowd and deeper into the hallway next to her.
I was on the move immediately. Stalked right past Dempsey without even saying anything and barely made it to the small room Charlie slipped into in time. The door was slamming shut, but I caught the side with an inch to spare. I slipped into what looked like a small conference room with dim lighting and office chairs stored in a haphazard pattern.
I set her award down gingerly on the closest table. Charlie was in the middle of the room. Her arms were wrapped around her waist, and she was crying.
“Charlie, what —” I said, reaching for her.
She sniffed, swiping angrily at her cheeks. “Oh, Rowan. Hey. What are you doing here?”
I took a few steps closer. She took a few back.
“I saw Dempsey give you what looked like really bad news and I…” I bent, tried to catch her eye. “I wanted to see if you were okay. But you don’t look okay at all.”
She was trying to hide her face, like she didn’t want me to see her tears. “Well, I was supposed to have a meeting with Bettencourt tomorrow, me and Dempsey together. And I was hoping things with them were getting better, because you and I—”
She trailed off, biting her lip.
“I was helping you with your reputation,” I said pointedly.
“Right. It was working. Or I thought it was, but Dempsey told me they haven’t been happy with that video of me going around where I got into it with that reporter. And while we were at the dinner, she got some email from their lawyers in preparation for tomorrow. The email had legal documents attached to them, dissolving my contract. So… I’m officially fucked.”
My body sagged with the news.
“I’ll get paid what they owe me for the rest of the month, but after that, I’m without any income. Which means my dad definitely gets evicted.”
I blew out a breath. “The threat of getting cut can’t compare to knowing that you’re finally being let go. It’s agony. Charlie, I’m so sorry. You know I’ve been there. For what it’s worth, they’re assholes for doing this to you.”
She was still avoiding my gaze, practically skittish. My instinct was to go to her, hold her while she cried, but every time I moved closer, she moved away.
“It’s okay.” She wiped her eyes again and set her shoulders. “This isn’t on you, Rowan. You…you’ve been incredible. You even agreed to help me when I asked you to tag along as my fake boyfriend. But this whole mess is my fault and always has been.”
I swallowed roughly. “You can still ask me for help. I’m here.”
She was shaking her head. “I don’t talk about my mom a lot because she wasn’t a nice person. My dad and I were like inconvenient pit stops for her, an annoyance more than anything else. But when my dad got hurt, I found where she was living. Reached out for help because I was so scared I didn’t know what to do. I called and sent emails. Sent a letter, and she never replied to any of it.”
Her eyes finally shot to mine—greener than I’d ever seen them, practically emerald, and red around her lashes. “I fixed everything then, all by myself. I’ll fix it now.”
I was silent for a minute, letting this new knowledge about her mother sink in. It painted Charlie’s extreme self-sufficiency in a whole new light, all that confidence coming from a person who’d learned at a young age how to survive on her own.
So I finally said, “That’s a lot of pressure on you. Shouldering the burden all alone.”
Her face softened. “It isn’t. Rowan…look at what you went through as a kid, losing both of your parents and having your world destroyed when you were so young. This is…this is only money. Legal stuff and contracts. It’s nothing.”
“Losing them was the worst possible thing imaginable,” I admitted, “and also, I had people that helped us. A lot of people. They didn’t make me feel bad for needing them either. Just showed up when they could, as many times as they could. Doing that on my own wouldn’t have been possible.”
