Charlene's Choice

by Tasha Hart

  “Did you get the mac and cheese?” This girl has got a one-track mind. It would be easy to get frustrated with her, but I remind myself that it’s late and they haven’t had anything to eat since school let out hours and hours ago.

  “Let me get all of this in the freezer and I’ll get you two set up, okay?”

  “Okay,” the little one says while Reema plops down on the couch. Thanks for the help, squirt. I look down at Layla, smiling up at me like I just rode in on a white horse.

  “You want mac and cheese or nuggets?”

  “Nuggets, p’ease!” At least someone around here has some manners.

  Pulling open the fridge, I can see that what Reema said isn’t entirely true. There’s some stuff in here that you could call food, or at least it might have been food once. The only thing I would eat in here is the hot sauce, and it’s probably old enough it would walk out if I left the door open.

  “Damnit, mom.” I thought I had said it quietly, but the little one’s eyes go wide.

  “Ummm… You said a bad word.”

  “Yeah, well, who are you gonna tell?” That stumped her, so I stuff the frozen stuff in the freezer. “Reema, you want to come in here?”

  “What?”

  “I want you to watch me make this stuff, so I don’t have to come over here every time you’re hungry.” She clicks her tongue and rolls her eyes so hard, I can hear them from here.

  “I know how to heat up TV dinners, Char?”

  “Oh, really? Well, then dinner’s on you tonight. Let me sit down. I’ve been on my feet all night.”

  Once they’re fed, it’s like the light switch flicks and both of the little devils get sleepy. Fine by me! Reema takes care of herself, but I change Layla into a fresh diaper for the night and put her into some pajamas.

  They get into bed and are both asleep before I can pull the covers up. My day has been hard, but I imagine theirs has been rocky as well. I was happy when I got out of this place, so I have a pretty good memory of what they’re dealing with.

  It’s nearly eleven and mom still isn’t home. Popping the wine, I decide to set up shop and wait for her. The last thing I want to do is have the girls wake up in the middle of the night and find themselves alone. What would they have done if I hadn’t been cut early from work?

  Of course, there’s not a clean glass in this place. I’m tempted to just drink straight from the bottle, but that’s not the kind of party I’m looking to start. So, I wash one and pour myself a nice big glass of bodega merlot. Wait, merlot? Oh, damnit. This day is definitely not breaking in my favor.

  Now, I’m not a big drinker (despite the impression tonight has probably given), but I’ve got half the bottle gone when I hear the keys fumbling at the lock. They hit the floor, and I get up to play the hero again.

  Mom’s startled when the door pulls open and looks at me with bleary eyes. “Charlene. What are you doing here?”

  “Reema called. There was no food in the fridge.”

  “Yes, there is.”

  “No, mom. There’s not.”

  “Huh.” That’s it. That’s all she has to say. She just pushes past me and drops her bag and keys on the floor. “I’m tired.”

  “No, mom, you’re drunk.”

  “Same, same,” she says walking into her bedroom and shutting the door behind her.

  I feel like I was never angry in my life before this moment. She couldn’t even manage a thank you? “Oh, I’m sorry the fridge was empty, honey. Thanks for coming over and feeding the girls.” Nothing like that. Instead, she comes home stinking drunk, shoves me aside and goes to bed.

  All I want to do is scream, but I’d hate to wake the girls. And the neighbors. Across the street. Because, what I’ve got inside me right now is gonna be loud. But it wouldn’t solve anything. In fact, it would probably just cause problems, so I’ll skip it.

  The wine bottle is in my hand before I know it, and I’m poised to pour myself another big glass, when I freeze. Thinking about the woman who just stumbled past me makes me think really hard about taking another drink. You know what? Not me. Not tonight.

  I pour the rest of the bottle down the drain and rinse it down. That’s one thing I can do to make damn sure I don’t make the same mistakes that got her here.

  So, I just squish back into my still-damp shoes and squelch back down the stairs. It’s raining again, and I realize I left my umbrella up in the apartment. Of course. Man, this day can’t be over fast enough for me.

  Eight

  Logan

  It's been a few days since the incident with Tyler at the club, but the thing I remember most clearly about that whole shit show is how much I need to see that beautiful waitress again. I'm rarely so intrigued by brief bar encounters, but something about her made it impossible for me to clear her from my mind. Perhaps it was the way she punched Tyler without spilling her tray of drinks. Whatever it is, I know I need to return to Sistaz, immediately.

  For a Friday evening, the office is pretty populated. I suppose the other attorneys are scrambling to take over Tyler's workload and fill his newly vacant position. The memory of watching him march out the door with his belongings in a cardboard box and a scowl on his face makes me laugh. That bastard deserved it.

  As I attempt to finish up some paperwork, my mind drifts to the waitress and her strong arm again. Tyler deserved that punch in the face, too.

  I look out across my desk, which is littered with loose files and legal documents. One would think that winning the Condor Pharmatech lawsuit would result in less busywork, but it feels like I've been drowning in documents. Glancing at my Rolex, I make the executive decision to stop for the night and head back to Sistaz. My firm just settled an historic case, they'll be fine if I start my weekend a little early.

  I think about taking the Benz down to the club but settle for a cab when I imagine drinking another round or two of Screaming Orgasms with the waitress. If I play my cards right, that drink won't be the only orgasm we share tonight.

  The cab rounds the corner just as I'm chastising myself for thinking like a dog. Levon, the bouncer from the other night flashes me a gleaming smile once I step out of the car. “Back to celebrate another million-dollar deal?” He gives me a thumbs up and I chuckle.

  “Nah, not tonight. Hoping to close another kind of deal, though, and I might not be as lucky this time.” We share a knowing glance before he winks at me and wishes me luck.

  Once inside, the familiar sight of flashing strobe lights and drunken patrons clouds my vision. The smell of alcohol accosts my senses as a thin blonde girl stumbles up to me with a vodka cranberry barely balancing in her palm. “Wanna buy me a drink?” She slurs, and I politely push her aside, searching for a flash of brown hair with red highlights.

  “No thanks. I'm looking for someone.” I point out the nearly full glass in her hands as I squint through the darkness with the waitress’s hazel eyes on my mind.

  The blonde shrugs me off, slinking up to another man who was standing beside me. “Want to buy me a drink?” She asks him, and I shake my head before moving to the back of the club.

  A hostess finds me shortly after and leads me to the table I rented for the night. It's nestled away in the back of the room, private enough to have a good conversation but still close enough to the action on the dance floor. I'm not usually in the habit of renting out entire tables for myself, but if it secures my chances of seeing her again, it’s worth the spend.

  Not long after I take a seat, I see someone approaching out of the corner of my eye. But when I turn to face the waitress, disappointment makes my chest deflate with a sigh.

  “Hi, my name is Kelly. Can I get you something to drink?” She's gorgeous, but she's not the woman I was hoping to see. Kelly's tan skin and green eyes glisten in the dim lighting, and she has a brilliant smile. Yet I can't stop myself from asking her the only question on my mind.

  “Actually, I'm looking for someone. She's a waitress here, shoulder length brown hair with red hig
hlights. Is she working tonight?” The realization hits me that my dream girl may not even be working tonight, but it was worth a shot since she hasn't called.

  Kelly shakes her head, growing somewhat irritated. “I'm new here so I have no clue who you're talking about, and I don't keep track of all the staff. Do you want a drink or not?”

  Just then, I see her. It's as if she's a shining beacon in the darkness because although the place is packed, I only see her. She pushes politely past the crowd to put a hand on Kelly's shoulder. “You okay sweetie? Is this customer causing you any trouble?”

  Kelly looks between my stupid smiling face and the other woman, nodding her head as she realized who I was referring to earlier. “Oh, you meant Charlene. She's not a waitress, she's a manager.”

  Manager. Though I shouldn't judge, the word instantly gives me a different picture of her. I've also finally learned her name. “Nice to see you again, Charlene. I'm Logan.” I say, and I feel like an idiot as she rolls her eyes.

  “I can take it from here.” She pats Kelly on the back and looks suspiciously at me after the other woman leaves. “Where are your friends?”

  “They're not my friends.” I remind her. “I came to see you.” When her suspicion grows, I decide it's best to try and not come across as a stalker. “To let you know that Tyler has been fired from the company, and to make sure that you're alright after what happened last time.”

  Her brows raise. “Oh.” She says, and it looks as if she didn't think I would truly fire someone for harassing her. As her hazel eyes meet mine, I want to let her know that I'll get rid of anyone or anything that gets in her way. “Well thank you, I'm fine. Can I get you a drink?”

  I smile. “If you'll join me.”

  Charlene rolls her eyes. “Great, are you gonna try the same thing too?”

  “I don't mean to be rude. It's just that I haven't been able to get you off my mind for the past few days and when you didn't call, I wanted to see for myself that you were all right. Did you get the tip at least? We could talk, if you have a moment.” I pull out a hundred and she looks the other way.

  Finally, she pouts, her full pink lips pursuing. “Thank you, but I'm not interested in trading conversation for money.”

  As she begins to turn her back, I panic. “Then what are you interested in?” I say a little louder than necessary.

  “I'm interested in taking your drink order then going on with the rest of my job.”

  She's witty. I like it. “All right.” I give in. “Let me have the same drink you recommended last time.”

  “Screaming Orgasm.” She retrieves a pad from her back pocket. “Anything else?”

  I know what the drink was called, I just wanted to hear her say it. “I'm not trying to buy your time, and I know you must have several options when it comes to dating. But just give me ten minutes, I want to get to know you.”

  There's a hundred-dollar bill still stuck between my fingers, and she glances at it before I realize I'm still holding it out. Tucking it away, I quickly apologize. “I didn't mean to offend you or imply that you need it, I'm just used to showing my gratitude this way. Old habits die hard.” I smirk while returning the bill to my wallet, but she surprises me by smiling back.

  Kelly walks by, her eyes wide. “Honey, do you see where we work? Of course, she needs it.”

  “Thank you, Kelly.” Charlene chases away as professionally as she can. “Table six needs a refill.” She turns back to me after her co-worker leaves and crosses her arms. “Fine. Ten minutes of free conversation. Let me put this drink order in first.”

  I watch her walk away, then pat the seat in the booth next to me when she returns with my drink. She looks around the room to make sure she isn't being watched by her co-workers, then reluctantly sits beside me.

  “So, what do you want to talk about?” Her painted nails click against the table.

  “Tell me about yourself.” I blurt, not having anything planned though I've been imagining this scenario for days.

  Charlene looks up to the ceiling, her long lashes fluttering lightly as she thinks. “Let's see. I'm 25, just graduated from Foster University with a degree in business, and now I'm here. You?”

  Though she says it so casually and humbly, I'm impressed. “That's amazing. A couple of colleagues at the law firm went to Foster.” She opens her mouth, and I finish her thought. “No, not Tyler.”

  We both laugh. Kelly drops my drink off at the table with a wink in Charlene's direction, and we both get to talking and laughing. The sound of her laughter is more intoxicating than the alcohol in my drink, and I almost don't realize that so much time has passed.

  She tilts my watch towards her face then jumps up. “Wow. I didn't notice the time, I should get back to work.” Brushing her work slacks off, she smiles in my direction. “It was actually nice talking to you, Logan. Maybe I'll see you around. I've got your number, after all.”

  I nod and wave with my heart pumping in my chest. Feeling successful, I drop the hundred-dollar tip on the table with a little note: “I know you don't need it, but just in case.”

  Nine

  Charlene

  That boy is funny. Laughing like I did is the last thing I expected when I sat down with him, but that Logan’s got a funky kind of wit that charms the hell out of me. Even if he did get off to a lousy start. I mean, waving a hundred-dollar bill at me like he can just buy up my time? Uh-uh, Logan. Not a good look.

  He made up for it, though. And, you know what else? It feels really good to have someone seem genuinely excited that I got that degree in business. All the girls here have been great about it, but they don’t really seem to get what I’m trying to do, but Logan? His eyes lit right up. He gets it.

  So why the hell did I just walk away and leave him sitting there? I was having a good time. By the time I get back to the table, he’s split, but he left that green calling-card of his, and another note. Part of me wants to be mad about the money, but I can’t manage it.

  “Hey.” I jump and turn around to find Logan standing there.

  “Hey. I thought you’d gone.”

  “Just leaving,” he says, “but I saw you come back over here and just had to ask. Can I take you out sometime?” This guy sounds so much like a high school kid, I almost laugh.

  “You mean, like, to the movies or something?”

  “Whatever you want,” he shrugs. “I’d just like to see you.” For whatever reason, earnestness is gaining big points with me tonight.

  “Sunday is my night off. We can get drinks.”

  “Some place quieter than this, maybe?”

  We settle on a bar that’s just around the corner from my apartment. I figure it’s smart to be in familiar territory in case he turns out to be a skeez and I need to bounce. He seems nice enough, but I keep remembering his buddy the titty grabber.

  Sunday comes, and I gotta admit, I’m a little excited. I just keep thinking about him making me laugh, and actually giving a shit about what I had to say. Enough guys failed at both of those things, so I’ve kinda sworn off dating. Besides, with the club and school, there hasn’t really been time.

  “You look great,” he says, standing to meet me as I walk into Ray’s.

  “Thanks,” I say. What I really want to say is, “I better! I took over an hour getting myself together for you.”

  “So,” he sits me down and slides into the chair across from me. “Is it Orgasms tonight, or…” I laugh out loud.

  “In this place?” I lean back in my chair. “Hey, Ray? Can I get a vodka tonic?”

  “You got it, sweet stuff. What about you, man?” Logan looks a little startled that I just called across the room, but he joins in.

  “Whatever whiskey you think is the best.”

  “Whatever I think is best?” Ray’s eyebrows shoot up. “Man, if you want the stuff I drink, I’ll have to go downstairs.” He laughs, but Logan calls him on it.

  “I’ll take it.” Call me crazy, but I’m getting to like this guy mor
e and more.

  Again, we spend the whole night laughing, and end up talking about books, of all things. Nobody at the club is a big reader, at least not the stuff I’m into, but Logan meets me at every step. Hell, he’s even got a couple of recommendations for me. There’s nothing sexier than a guy who reads.

  “I got bad news, kids.” Ray leans on the bar. “You don’t got to go home, but you can’t stay here.”

  Sure, I had noticed the place getting empty, but we were having such a good time that I figured we could play it out for a bit. Logan pays the tab without even asking me and slides off to the bathroom.

  “Say, girl?” Ray’s voice is quiet. “That dude just slipped me a hundred dollars.”

  “Yeah,” I say, lips twitching in a grin. “That’s kind of his signature move.”

  “Shit. Hold on to that one, baby girl.”

  You know something Ray? I just might.

  Stepping outside, I look up at Logan. I’m about to say something about what a great time I had, but before I can manage it, his lips have found mine. If I hadn’t been wanting it so much myself, it would have been a shock.

  “Is this okay,” he whispers. “I don’t want to…”

  I kiss him back. Hell yes, this is okay. It’s better than okay. “My apartment is close.”

  We barely make it through the door with our clothes on. It’s been long enough, I’ve almost forgotten what this kind of need is like. And, I need this.

  Logan has me pressed up against the wall by the door, working his lips all down my neck, grazing my skin with his teeth. That’s not typically my thing, but it’s driving me wild.

  “This okay?” He’s going out of his way to make sure I’m into this. Well, kid. Buckle up.

  He’s only managed the top buttons on my blouse, but it’s enough for me to pull it over my head. Tonight, I wore one of those easy-access bras that opens in the front, and I can’t say how glad I am.

  As soon as it’s off, Logan is lavishing attention on my nipples like the world is on fire. Shit, I’m on fire, so why shouldn’t the world be? My hands pull his belt loose and snap down the front of his pants. It may just be that it’s been a while, but this guy is big. Like, surprisingly big. And I want all of it.