Unlikely Alliance

Chapter 3

Charles's Point of View

Helen embraced me warmly; we had been friends for over five years now. My friendship with James began when he attended one of my philanthropic events. He was sent by his company, and Helen, being a resident of Chicago, accompanied him—just to give him directions in her own words, but it was more about spending time with her brother.

The event aimed to raise funds for an environmental conservation project. Various companies pitched their environmental ideas, and James's presentation stood out as the best. His eloquence and the tech-oriented nature of his idea, which aligned with my company's interests, left a lasting impression on me. I wasn't easily impressed, but James's expertise won me over.

After the event, we talked at length, and one meeting led to another. In two years, we became more than just business associates; we became best friends. We frequently flew to visit each other, whether I went to Honolulu or he came to Chicago. I was thrilled when he was transferred to Chicago, although I wasn't quite as pleased when he got married. I would have preferred that we remained bachelors, living carefree lives—not exactly carefree lives like smoking or womanizing. I mean not having anything to worry about. However, as James often said, love has a way of conforming us to its will. I didn't believe in love and marriage; I didn't believe in long-term commitment. There was too much excitement in the world to be tied down to one woman.

"Charles, it's so great to have you here. I haven't seen you in months, and I'm so glad you could make it," Helen greeted her enthusiastically.

"I wouldn't have declined your invitation for anything in the world, especially since Sylvia and Olivia are my favorites. Well, not until James makes me a godfather, they'll remain my favorites," I teased.

"Hello, Charles," George greeted them, and we shook hands. We had met a few times, and I found him to be a simple, likable man.

"Good to see you, George. You're doing an excellent job nurturing those adorable kids," I complimented.

"I'm looking forward to your wedding," he teased, and I twitched my lips before heading toward the beautiful birthday girls, who were engrossed in play and hadn't noticed my arrival.

"Hello, Princess Sylvia and Princess Olivia," I announced my presence with a big smile. I crouched down, spreading my arms to receive them. They ran toward me, their tiny hands wrapping me in a big hug.

"Charles, we haven't seen you in ages," Sylvia commented.

"I love your shades," Olivia added as she took my sunglasses and wore them. I handed them the two packages I had brought, and they scampered off happily. Olivia also ran off with my shades, posing from afar so I could see her. I smiled and walked away. "Naughty girl," I muttered.

I approached a lady in a flared blue gown standing alone, seemingly lost in thought as she watched the children play. She appeared to be searching her surroundings, almost as if she hadn't noticed my presence with her, but I knew she did—my presence is always noticed.

"Hello, Emily," I greeted her with a forced smile as I approached her. She turned toward me, gasping as if just realizing I was there. "She's such a liar," I thought to myself.

"Hey, Charles, you're here," she replied with a smile.

"Yes, I am. You look great, by the way," I managed to offer a compliment. We hadn't interacted much, and she seemed to think I was cold and aloof. I was friends with her husband, whom she considered sweet and kind. She had to tolerate my presence, though she likely suspected I didn't like her being James's wife. She was right in that regard; I didn't like James having a wife. It imposed limits on our conversations and shared experiences. I held no personal grudge against her; she was undeniably stunning, and I had teased James about making the right choice.

"I thought James would be coming with you?" she asked, her tone slightly anxious.

"James isn't here already?" I inquired, concern creeping into my voice.

"No, he isn't, and I've been trying to reach him, but he's not picking up his calls," she explained while checking her w******p for any missed messages from James.

"When did you last see him today?"

"I left him at home in the morning after breakfast. I rushed here to help Helen with preparations, and he told me he'd be here before the party started. But it's getting late, and he's not here yet," she replied, her voice tinged with worry.

"Calm down; it's probably nothing serious," I consoled, lifting my hand as if to pat her on the shoulder but hesitating. We weren't particularly close—that was an understatement, we weren't close at all, so I quickly withdrew my hand, offering a pat on her back instead. "Perhaps he went to the office."

"So, what's stopping him from picking up or replying to my texts?" she wondered aloud, her voice laced with concern and uncertainty that soon infected me.

"Let's drive to the house and check on him," I suggested.

"I don't want to worry Helen by leaving the party halfway," she replied.

"The party is nearly over. The kids have already cut their cakes, and everyone is enjoying their meal. We'll simply tell Helen that we're going to check on James at home and return afterward," I attempted to persuade her, though I wasn't entirely convinced that it was a believable excuse. She hesitated for a few moments before finally nodding her head in agreement.

"Okay, let's go," she replied.

With a shared sense of worry and uncertainty about James's whereabouts, we made our way towards my car, hoping to find answers and put our minds at ease.