"Either way, I can't wait." Janna smiled.
Chapter 200
Early L. A...
Deidre was enduring physical therapy as Charlie stood diligently near - watching her therapist take her through various exercises to help strengthen her muscles and limber her up where she might one day, return to walking without a cane. Soon her session was over and they were out of there for the day, in which Charlie asked, "Now where?"
"I have my paperwork to turn in, I'm resigning - life is short. It's time for me to do what I've been wanting to do most of my life." Deidre declared.
"Makes since to me, and what are you planning to do?"
"I'm going to practice Homeopathy. I studied up to two years while I was seeing Shawn, my first husband. Taking other courses as well. Unfortunately, I was pregnant part of the way through, and he kind of swept me off my feet once he knew I was having his baby. So all of my plans took a back seat. Besides, due to my lifestyle and the-..."
"Silver spoon in your mouth you could finish or not." Charlie cut her off finishing the sentence for her.
Deidre shot her a look loaded with meaning. Charlie laughed out loud and winked, "You know I'm right, don't deny it white girl! Life is good when you're you - you can be dumb as a door stop, but the silver spoon is yours, come what may."
"Oh I so resent that! Because I was born wealthy-..."
"Filthy rich!" Charlie inserted again.
"Fine, filthy rich - that doesn't-..."
"Oh yes indeedy, tell me about it, Ms Billionairess." Charlie inserted again before she could finish.
"Can I finish?" Deidre stopped on the way to the Mercedes, S series to ask.
Charlie put her hands up in surrender, "By all means, go right ahead."
"Thank you! Now you can believe me when I say, my life hasn't been all that money is supposed to make it! Everyone poor, or financially struggling seems to believe that when you're rich, life is - is - sweet! Well - guess what - its all bull and malarkey!"
"Wooo, listen at you, rich white girl with hands on hips, I even detected a bit of head action there too! I like that!" Charlie grinned, winked and then said, "Now get yo'ass moving, standing on the goddamn sidewalk in clear view! Somebody shoot yo'ass, this discussion be over!"
"You know what, point and case made, right there!" Deidre fussed and did as she was told.
Ever watchful, Charlie followed her stating, "Well it can't be all good, when you rich. Just like it can't be all bad, when you po'!"
At the car, Deidre stopped for the door to be opened, "Well I can tell you now, for what my family, our wealth and name has brought me - I'd rather be poor!"
"Ah yeah, em hm. That's what you all say, but I don't see ya'asses throwing your money in the streets, saying - "Take this shit! I'm tired of it! I just can't take it no more! Here - have it all!"
Deidre looked at her, and burst with laughter, shaking her head. "What am I gonna do with you Charlie!" She was grinning as she entered the vehicle.
Having a bodyguard meant that she now also had a driver. Jeremiah said that Charlie couldn't drive her around and guard her too. Therefore, Charlie was her side guard. Samuel St. Charles was her driver, also trained in defense as a bodyguard. He'd opened the door for her to get in. Charlie, eyed him disdainfully, because they had a history. She leaned toward him, sniffing his breath. "You haven't been drinking while we was in there, have you? I know how you are."
"Leave'em alone Charlie and get in!" Deidre ordered from inside the car. Samuel quietly eyed Charlie as she turned and sat in the vehicle next to Deidre. He closed the door, refusing to be baited, and made his way around to the drivers seat.
"You got a thing for him or something?" Deidre asked her.
*Ppta* Charlie made the harsh spitting noise answering, "Please! I'm about the black man! You understand? I don't do white men! 'Specially no alcoholics! You see me? See my light, freckle face ass? Do it look like I need to be messing with anything white? Hell naw! Got to put the black back baby!"
Samuel had gotten in, started the Mercedes, was preparing to pull out when he asked, "Where now Ms Wherrington?"
Turning from Charlie she answered him, and they were on their way. That done, she turned back to Charlie, their conversation as if he weren't there and couldn't hear every word. "Be that as it may, Miss - "...got to put the black back!" Why are you always on his case?"
"Because! I don't trust druggies, and I don't trust alcoholics!" She boldly declared, looking ahead boldly into the rear view mirror, to see his eyes on her.
"Keep your eyes straight ahead instead of on me; 'fore you undo all my hard work and kill'er with your driving, looking back here instead of at the road." His eyes flew back to the mirror, briefly, and the pain that filled them in a quick instant could not be missed. Charlie had forgotten, because her tongue went before her good sense, she looked away. She didn't want to see what her few words did to him. If he wasn't ready to be back at work, then he shouldn't have come back - especially knowing that he'd be working with her.
"Charlie Carlton, as your employer - I insist that you be civil with him! Stop trying to rile him! Talking about him as if he's not near enough to hear! You're stressing me out! You are not supposed to be causing me stress!" Deidre reminded her of that.
"Well tell him stop looking at me! Giving me dirty looks!" She griped in defense, trying to recover from her ill chosen words, while giving him dirty looks back. They didn't like each other, so she felt, when actually it was that she didn't like him and she would do all in her power to keep it that way. If nothing more, she would make sure he stayed on his toes. She took her assignment serious. Not only that, she really liked Deidre Wherrington. She was different from most rich white folks that she knew, had worked for. The more time she spent with her, the more that she came to know her, making her determined she would not be harmed again.
"Charlie! Well stop provoking him to look at you!" Deidre ordered breaking into her thoughts.
"Uh huh! Stick together! Be like that! I see where I stand." She groused, knowing how untrue that statement.
"Charlie behave yourself! You're worse than a little kid looking for attention!"
Charlie poked her lip out, cut her eyes to Samuel again, he was looking at her as well, this time grinning, he'd recovered, and was back to enjoying her discomfort. She stuck her middle finger up at him, making him laugh out.
"Ain't shit funny! Drive!" Charlie ordered and looked out her window.
"Ms Wherrington, if you want to really settle her down, call her Charlene." Samuel suggested with an knowing glint in his eyes.
Deidre smiled. Charlie sat up and glared at him. "Don't start none, won't be none!"
Grinning Deidre asked, "What's wrong with Charlene? Nothing wrong with Charlene."
"All right! Don't start! Don't listen to him! Remember, I'm your bodyguard - its my job to save your life! You call me Charlie!" She demanded, making Deidre laugh, relenting. "Okay okay, Charlie it is. However, you don't behave yourself..." She finished, letting her sentence trail off suggestively, the threat was obvious and clear. Charlie sat back and once again, glared towards the back of Samuel St. Charles's head. Resenting that Jeremiah hired him as Deidre's driver. No matter what she said to him to get someone else, he still chose Samuel. It wasn't that she didn't know why, she knew why. It was simply because when it came to driving, he had nerves of steel, and did what it took to lose anyone. He stood 5'9 - with a body build that reminded one of Robert Conrad in his younger days of playing James West of Wild Wild West. Broad of shoulders, wide back, tone slender hips, pert behind and bow legs. He was a brunette, flirtatious features, sexy brown eyes. He and Charlie knew each other from way back. She hadn't liked him back then, and still didn't like him now. Back then, he had been too arrogant. Too cocky. Too self assured. Too full of himself. If that were not bad enough, he'd also become an alcoholic. Granted, he was on the wagon, but she had little respect for a person who couldn't control themselves with exterior substances tha
t altered ones wit, reflexes and control. There was no excuse for such weakness as far as she could see so had little tolerance for anyone who fell to it. She didn't care that his drinking was on the tail end of losing his pregnant wife and two boys in a car accident; talking place while he'd been out guarding someone else's wife, driving her about, his own had ended up in a major interstate pile up, rolling her van in attempt to escape the unforeseen event, ejecting one son from the vehicle, pinning the other one. Neither survived and he'd gone on a journey of madness. He'd turned to drinking. As for he and Charlie, their paths had crossed more than a few times in the past 10 years. He had known her before his marriage to his wife. They'd met up on and off during his marriage. Now here they were, on a job together. The moment she saw who the new driver was for Deidre, she'd spilled the goods on him. Charlie being Charlie, she spilled them right in front of him to Jeremiah and Maxwell. Trying to get him to find someone else.
Admittedly, Samuel had tried other forms of work. Once he grew tired of being arrested for drunken and disorderly conduct, or drinking while driving. Charlie didn't know it, but it was something she had said that kept coming back to him which finally made him do what he had to do, to get back to life. She'd said it on one of the times their paths briefly crossed, that being. "You so fuckin' sad. Sorry ass coward, too weak to kill yourself. Too much a chicken-shit to go on living your life. So you just gone be a nothing nobody floating no where. Don't be a pussy, eat the bullet for your ass cause somebody else to lose their life or loved one! Eat the bullet punk! Or get your shit together! People like you make me tired, you get on my nerves, its one thing to mourn, but if you can't climb up out of it, end the shit - pussy."
Having her say that to him, made him wish to kick her ass a second time. The first time that he had, was the reason she didn't like him. Because she was damn good at what she did, and could not be pinned by anyone, no man had been able to hold her down while in training for defense. She could always slip free or avoid their moves to pin her.
Samuel St. Charles had been different, he'd pinned her and held her there, looking her in the eyes as if delivering some secret message to her. She hadn't liked him since. Be that as it may, she intrigued him. He respected her, even though most times, she got on peoples nerves, at times, his included. On purpose. He'd figured that out about Charlie. Something in her made her need to push everyone to the edge, shocking or offending so she knew where they stood in proximity to her. She had zero tolerance for fence stragglers or phony bull-shitters. She made you, either like her, or hate her. No middle way about it. She'd done the same towards him, and because of the mild subtle way he was with her, while at all times, in full control, this about him drove her nuts. He would not give in to a temper, the way she wanted. He would neither show that he rejected her, or accepted her, he just showed, that he endured her, tolerated her, and to Charlie, that was not good enough. Luke-warm pissed her off. She didn't want lukewarm from him, she wanted hot -or- cold! Period. He would give her neither. Reason, because he knew that it pissed her off. He loved pushing her buttons. All that, was along their journey; current was the fact that she'd put it to him straight. No lace, no finery, no pity, no shit. Because Charlie, as he remembered, had a thing about shit. Speaking of which, when she was done with him, he got his shit together. That was because, she was right; no matter how harsh her delivery, he'd been too much of a coward to kill himself. Something about the finality of his own life - put him off. He hadn't a clue of what lay on the road ahead for him, no clue whatsoever, but he needed to get going on it to find out.
They were at the office building of B.W. Finance, one of many throughout the U.S. this one a 24 stories structure and they were inside, standing at the elevator. It opened, they walked in, Charlie stood facing the doors before Deidre with Samuel standing back beside her. Someone else went to board the elevator.
"You'll have to wait for the next." Charlie informed the woman, her tone and expression clearly stated it as a firm command. The woman's eyes went to the three and stepped back doing as she was commanded.
"Is that really necessary Charlie?" Deidre asked.
"If I made her ass step off, its necessary. Let me do my job, Dee-dee."
"Ach! Did she call me, Dee-Dee?" Deidre asked Samuel, stunned.
He stood, legs akimbo, arms in a -V- one hand clutching the other. A man of few words, he nodded that she had indeed and continued to look ahead at Charlie's back. He agreed with her. One rule of many while guarding someone, never leave your client at the mercy of an elevator trap. She may not like it, but he would have done the same. It stopped at the 14th floor and an unsuspecting office mail-clerk pushed on with his cart, not looking up.
Charlie had her gun out and pointing straight at him, "Back up now! Wait for the next elevator!" She bit out.
"What the...? What's going on?" He dumbly asked.
Charlie lifted her foot and pushed the cart back out forcefully, hitting his shin, rolling over his foot, almost knocking him over. "Fuckin' hell!" He exclaimed, taken by surprise at what he termed as an un-deserving attack. The doors closed.
"CHARLIE!" Deidre yelled at her stunned. "That was uncalled for! I know him! He is perfectly trust-worthy."
"Sorry! He'll get over it. While we're going up, it's just the three of us, and when we bring our asses back down, just the three of us! Get used to it!" She informed her re-holstering her gun. Deidre made up her mind that she would most certainly be having a word with Jeremiah about this. While she liked Charlie a lot, her aggressive manner when they were out in public made her feel sorry for the people that crossed her path. She wasn't sure she could go on like this. They soon made it to her office, where Charlie and Samuel stood stationed out front like two sentry guards. In her own office, she made phone calls, had certain people come in so that she could talk to them, tell them personally that she was leaving. It wasn't something that had been prepared in advance to give notice on so that her employees would know, and thus have cards and well wishes ready for her leaving. It was a sudden decision that she needed to follow through on clean and quick. Besides, Charlie had advised that from now on, she was to let few know of any plans made, no one was to be told her moves for the next hour, later in the day, tomorrow, or next week, and so forth. As much as it could be done, notification of plans, of places she would go, had to be stated right then and there when going. No advance warnings or preparation could be done. Period. Over and over, Charlie had drilled it into her head almost forcefully the lists of Do Not...
"Do not... confer on the phone with anyone, a time, a place or a location for anything!"
"Do not... from now on, follow in your old routines!"
"Do not... eat again at the same restaurants you love to frequent!"
"Do not... make plans for meeting at any Bistro anywhere - at anytime!"
"Do not... give your new telephone numbers out to anyone!"
"Do not... leave out of this home to go jogging without me along as well!"
"Do not... be the first to drink any beverage whatsoever delivered here! I don't care what it is! I test it first, understand?"
"Do not... eat any ordered and delivered foods! I test it first, understand?"
"Do not... stand by, in front of, or lean out any windows, at home, at work, anywhere! Understand?"
"Do not... use any public washrooms! Too many stalls, I don't trust it."
"Do not... linger on a street. Be called out to by a friend, to stop, look and wave! Do not!"
"Do not... step out the door to await your car! As it is, Samuel must first look it over, look under it, start it and then drive it to you. You wait for him. If it blows up, you won't be in it! Do not... while we are out, in your vehicle, open your window for a bit of fresh air. No no no, you do not! Understand? And last, when we are out, you do not leave the spot I place you in. Understand? You do not! Stay tuned, there will be more."
Yes, Deidre suspected there would be more, and thus, while she was forever grateful to her, hal
f-brother and those who assisted him, in saving her life, and also, while she indeed felt deeply indebted to the emergency room team who struggled to keep her alive, for all intents and purposes, her life - was over. She was almost done packing up her office, collecting items that she considered of sentimental value, and saying her goodbyes when her father showed up at her door. Of course, because she hadn't called him, invited him, he was blocked.
"Excuse me! Do you know who I am! Un-bar this door immediately!" He demanded.
Charlie looked him in the eyes, and called in to Deidre. "Ms. Wherrington, someone here to see you." She maintained her place before him, with Samuel beside her.
Deidre looked up from her desk, having heard her father and walked to the door, looking over their shoulder at him.
"Let him in." She consented softly.
"I'm watching you." Charlie threatened right in Oscar T's ear.
He looked taken aback, insulted and let it be known. "How dare you, who do you think you are?!" He returned disdainfully walking in, looking back over his shoulder at her. Charlie only smiled and winked at him. She turned back, glanced at Samuel, who was looking at her. She made a face at him and turned to scan out over the office workers. He smiled and did the same.
"Is this really necessary? Is she really necessary?!" Oscar T. demanded.
"Well father let's see, were it you in my shoes trying to recover from gun shot wounds, would you then deem it necessary?" Deidre retaliated.
"Why do you insist to make us, your mother and I, the enemy, as if we would do you harm?"
"I don't really know, who my enemies are. According to you, she, my mother, is not to be trusted. Considering the child I've lost at her hands, I'll have to agree. As for you-..."
"Yes, exactly, as for me - what? What harm have I ever done you? I'm your father! I'm the last person you need protection from."
"Better safe than sorry, right? Anyway, if that is true, I'm glad to hear it. What do you want?" She asked. "I'm on my way out and I have a couple more people to say goodbye to on the way."
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