Unmasking Charlotte (a Taboo Love series) (6 page)

Charlotte

I have a standing date with my dad every other Sunday afternoon. We have lunch, talk about our weeks, and catch up. We both like to gossip and he always has the best stories from work, driving the ambulance around, tending to all walks of life. We try to one up each other, me telling anecdotes of spoiled actors or strung out models, but he always wins in the end. You can’t beat drunk idiots with power tools or perverts with battery operated vibrators stuck in places they weren’t intended with my mundane scandals of the rich and famous.

This week is my dad’s turn to choose the place, and he opts for a bagel place right around the corner from my apartment. I love coming here. The bagels are always fresh because they make them on site, and they make the best homemade cream cheese nova spread. Ooh, and the tuna. Don’t get me started on their tuna. I am convinced that they add sugar to it because not only is it smooth and creamy from probably an entire jar of mayonnaise, but it is also sweet. Yum! I may need to go for a run after this meal. I am nothing like my BFF, Delilah. I have to actually work to keep my slim figure. She is so lucky to have good genes.

I grin when I see my dad wave at me from across the restaurant. I wave back and start toward him. He stands to greet me, giving me a hug and kiss on the cheek. We sit down in the booth across from each other. I stuff my purse in the corner and prop my sunglasses on top of my head.

“Hey!” I say with a smile.

My dad, Bron Fisher, smiles back at me. “Hi, sweetheart, how are you doin’?”

My run in with Calvin the other day flashes through my mind and I shrug. “Okay, I guess,” I say as nonchalantly as possible.

He gives me a look that says he’s not buying it. Damn it!

“Looks like
you’re getting some gray hairs there, old man,” I tease, quickly trying to change the subject.

My dad smoothes his hand over his short hair. “I’ve been turning gray, that’s nothing new. Don’t try to divert my attention by ripping on me,” he grunts, not falling for my shenanigans. “What’s going on?”

As I’m trying to find the words to explain, the waitress shows up. She is as stereotypical New Yorker as they come. Something about her reminds me of zebra pants – teased hair, bright lipstick, snapping her gum - and a tiny shiver runs up my spine. I shake it off and refocus. She takes our drink order and says she’ll return for our lunch order. She saunters off and I glance up from the menu to see my dad watching me expectantly. Shit! I was hoping he’d forget after getting distracted! Why does everything I do and see remind me of Calvin?

“Shouldn’t you be getting forgetful in your old age?” I mutter.

My dad barks out one of his big booming laughs, drawing some of the other customers to turn and look at us.

“Jeez, Dad, do you have to laugh so loud? Can’t take you anywhere,” I huff teasingly, making him laugh even more.

I’ve always loved my daddy’s laugh. It’s always so heartfelt. And it’s definitely catchy. I can see other people around us glancing at him and smiling. Once his laughter dies down, he reaches across the table and pats my hand.

“Thanks, Charlie, I needed a good laugh
.” He smirks, his dark chocolate eyes crinkling at the corners.

The man looks amazing for his age, actually.
He’s like Denzel Washington, just keeps looking better and better as he gets older. Plus, black people have that fabulous skin that barely ages. Other than some crow’s feet and the salt and pepper hair, my dad doesn’t look a day over forty.

“Come on, you know you can talk to me,” he coaxes.

I sigh, brushing my long blonde hair over my shoulder. “I’m just having some guy issues.”

All of the humor leaves his face and his mouth thins. “Did someone hurt you?”

I smile softly at his protectiveness and reach to give his hand a squeeze. “No, Daddy, no one has hurt me. I promise.”

He relaxes and gives me a nod.

“I just…there’s this guy…he does crazy things to my heart…” I say, struggling to find the right words to explain how Calvin makes me feel and my fears about being with him.

It’s my dad’s turn to smile softly. “That’s a good thing, sweetie.”

I sigh. “I know. It’s just that…well…he’s black.”

Eyebrow raising curiously, he stares at me for a second. “So?”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’ve only dated white guys ever since DeShawn,” I say, giving him a pointed look.

He nods. “Yes, I’ve noticed,” he says with a slight frown. “I’m assuming there’s more to it than I know?”

The waitress comes back with our drinks – Diet Dr. Brown’s Black Cherry for me and a black coffee for my dad - and takes our lunch order, then leaves us alone again. I rub the side of my face. I’ve always been very open with my dad. We’ve talked about sex before, but it’s always hard for me regardless. He’s my father, and no matter how comfortable we are with each other, it’s still an awkward subject. I mean, he obviously knows I’m not a virgin, and that I am sexually active, but it’s still weird to talk about it with him. We have no secrets, though, and I know he will always give me the best advice. So I suck it up and try to explain it the best way that I can.

“Yeah, there is a reason I’ve only been wit
h white guys. It’s because every time that I’ve tried to be…intimate…with a black guy, I have this issue where I get…like…a flashback of DeShawn and what he did to me,” I say quietly, my face hot and no doubt red.

My dad’s eyes soften. “You’ve tested this out recently? You still get like that?” he asks.

I nod. “A little over a year ago. It was actually the night Delilah met Nick. I freaked out. The poor guy had no idea what was going on as I went running out of the room.” I snort. “It was actually at Calvin’s club. Calvin’s the guy who has me tied up in knots.” I add softly, feeling shy and embarrassed.

My dad notices that I am uncomfortable but doesn’t acknowledge it. Thank god for small miracles. “So, you’re afraid that you’re going to do the same with this guy that you really like?”

I nod again. “And look like a complete fool.” I groan, dropping my head into my hands.

“What’
s this guy’s name? Calvin, is it?” he asks.

“Yeah, Calvin.”

“And what is it that draws you to him?”

I lift my face and raise an eyebrow at him. “Other than him being utterly gorgeous?”

My dad grins. “Yeah, other than that.”

“He’s kind.
I actually bumped into him at a coffee shop the other day. Literally bumped into him, and my coffee spilled down the front of my shirt, which in turn became see-through. He gave me the shirt off his back so that I could cover up.”

“That’s a gentleman right there,” my dad muses.

I nod in agreement. “He seems like the really caring type and he knows how to treat women. I know that he’s interested in me but I’ve been avoiding him, even telling him that I’m dating his friend, Parker.”

Bron makes a disapproving noise. Our conversation is interrupted once more by the waitress bringing us our food. We thank her and she leaves us to eat in peace. There really is something about her that bothers me. I probably would have never thought about it before, but man, zebra pants really got into my psyche.
Fucking Calvin.
We sit in a comfortable silence as we both dig into our meals.

“I don’t understand why you needed to lie. You could have tried to explain it to him. He sounds like the kind of guy who would have understood,” my dad says, shaking his head at me.

“Ugh! I know, I panicked! He was flirting with me and I didn’t know how else to get him to back off. I didn’t want to be a bitch to him,” I groan.

“Listen, Charlie. If you really like this guy, you need to give him a chance. He sounds like a real gentleman, and those are very hard to come by these days. I know you’ve been hurt in the past but you can’t let that dictate your future. What if this guy is the one for you and you miss out because you’re afraid
to try? I understand that you’re hesitant about what might happen if you decide to get intimate with him, but if he is a good man, a caring man, then he will understand and stick by you anyway. That’s what real men do. Just look at me,” he finishes with a shit-eating grin and a wink.

I smile and shake my head. “Y
ou are the best man ever, Daddy. I know that.”

“Damn straight, don’t you forget it,” he says seriously and nods. “Give Calvin a chance to prove himself. You might find the love of your life. And if not, then what the hell? At least you gave it a shot.”

I nod. He is so right. I knew he would have the best advice for me. I do really like Calvin and he does seem like a really nice guy. Delilah tells me so all of the time. I guess I just needed that extra push from the man that I trust most in this whole world. Bron. My dad. My rock. My hero.

The rest of lunch is spent talking about other things, like how much my dad loves my mom’s silly antics and her sense of humor. No doubt that’s where I get it from. My dad pays for lunch and then walks me to my car. He gives me a tight hug and a kiss on the cheek.

“I want to meet Calvin,” he says as we separate.

I roll my eyes. “I have to see if he even wants to go out with me anymore.”

Bron chuckles. “He will.”

I shake my head, smile, and let out a little snicker. He always thinks the best of people. Especially me. After what we lived through, and what he sees day to day at work, I don’t understand how he stays so positive.

“I’ll see you in two weeks, daddy.” I lift up onto my tippy toes and give him a big hug.

“Not if I see you first.” He smiles and pinches my cheek as he always does when we say goodbye.

“Love you,” I say.

“I love you, too, sweetheart.”

He waits while I get into my car and drive off. I can’t help but smile. I am so lucky to have the best dad in the whole world.

Chapter Three

Charlotte

Actors are self-centered assholes. Okay, maybe not all of them, that would be a stereotypical generalization, but there is one in pa
rticular that our agency represents that is nothing but trouble. Eddie, my awesome boss, has to fly out today for who knows how long because he needs to visit the set of an up and coming blockbuster movie, in order to manage this schmuck. The silver lining? I am boss-free at work for a while. Don’t get me wrong, I still need to go to work. In fact, he put me in charge, so I have to open the office in the morning and lock up at the day’s end, but the hours in between will be pretty laid back. They are usually anyway, even when he is here, but it is still nice not to have a boss around.

I set my alarm for an early start today to make sure I get to work before my usual 9:00 am. Eddie needs to review some stuff with me before he catches his flight. I have all of his travel plans as well as a goody bag packed for him before he gets in – some gum, a crossword puzzle b
ook, and his iPod programmed with his favorite tunes. I also throw in a few new manuscripts that need to be reviewed. Who knows how long he will be gone. As usual, he is appreciative of my work ethic, and I am rewarded with a bonus check this week.
Woo hoo! Shopping spree!

It’
s time for Eddie to go and we say our goodbyes. He gives me a hug and a wink, but all I can do is giggle. He is old enough to be my grandfather, but he thinks he is still in his twenties. I have never gotten anything but a familial vibe from him, and it’s nice not to have that worry about being uncomfortable at work. I learned a long time ago not to shit where I eat. The only “job” he gives me for the day is to make sure that I get audition schedules out to a few of our newbies, as well as to Parker. It’s too early to call him, so I shoot him a text.

Charlie:
Wakey, wakey, eggs & bakey!

Parker:
Oh good god, woman! What do you want this early in the morning?

Charlie:
Get your ass out of bed you lazy bum & come pick up your audition schedule. It’s finished.

Parker:
I don’t wanna!

Charlie:
Quit your whining & do as you’re told!

Parker:
Yes, mother

Charlie:
Good boy. Now, when can I expect you?

Parker:
Give me an hour…

Good. Now
that that is taken care of, I can finish up my “to do” list so that I can scoot out of here a little early. I have my bonus check burning a hole in my pocket and I am almost positive that there is a new pair of shoes somewhere with my name on it.

Phone calls made to casting agencies to let them know
that Eddie is available via cell phone. Check. Scripts filed, labeled, tabbed, and put into piles according to whether or not I think they are worthy of a second reading. Check check. Audition schedules dispersed to actors and models for the upcoming week. Check check check. Now all I have to do is wait for Parker to get his lazy ass up here to get his schedule so that I can jet out. Tickety tock…

I call Parker to see what the hell is taking him so long. He answers just before voicemail is about to pick up. It sounds like he went back to sleep. If that is the case, I will kick his ass when he gets here. If he ever gets here. I should have just told him that I would drop
it off, but at the time, I was still waiting for one other cracked out model. Shit! I hate waiting for people. I mean hate with a capital “H.” It’s probably one of my biggest pet peeves. Why can’t people just be where they say they are going to be when they say they are going to be there? It’s just so rude.

Since I finished everything on my
checklist for today, and my boss is not here to look over my shoulder, I pull out my iPad. Eddie bought it for me a few months ago in lieu of a bonus check for landing a new up and coming child star. He knew that I had wanted one for a while but was too cheap to buy it for myself. He really is such a great boss.

I flipped it open and swiped it to turn
it on. A picture of my family at my college graduation from forever ago is my wallpaper. I smile at the goofy grin on my dad’s face. He was so proud of me. Tommy is giving me bunny ears behind my head – no surprise there – and my mom is smiling with tears in her eyes. I sigh inwardly, remembering the good old times, when I had no bills and no real responsibilities. Ahh…to be a kid again.

Read or play online? Read or play online? Play first, and then read. I go through my emails rather quickly. Most of it is spam, anyway. I mean, who is sending this shit about penis pumps? And why does some random stranger in Africa think that I believe that I was named in their aunt’s will who left me millions of dollars? All I have to do is cash the check and send half back. Um, okay… Not! What a scam. Sorry, rant over. I have a few emails from my mom asking me to come over for dinner soon. And a few from Delilah. She is crazy. One email is the cutest picture of a puppy snuggling up to a baby. The next email is the filthiest, naughtiest, most perverted joke that I have ever read. Even I am blushing, and it takes a lot to embarrass me. That’s why I love that girl. She keeps me on my toes.

Next, I open up Facebook and check to see if anyone posted anything good.
There are a few posts from Delilah. She put up some pictures from her engagement party. There is a cool one of me dancing with Parker. I actually look pretty good if I do say so myself. I will have to show it to him when he gets here. That reminds me, where is he?
Asshole.

My home page is
littered with book suggestions from all of the different Blogs I follow. Not only do they post book suggestions, but also they post pictures of gorgeous male models half-naked. If my mother ever saw this, she would have a heart attack. I one-click a few of the books that have been on my “to be read” list, and download them. I will check them out later. Speaking of hot men, having no boyfriend really blows. It may be time for a little one-night stand action. I wonder if there is any chance I could go to Club M without Calvin noticing me. I am not sure if I am willing to take the chance. That man makes my body feel things I can’t explain, just by being in the same room as him. He is dangerous to my libido…and sanity.
Damn, I am horny!

I slide my finger up the iPad rather swiftly, checking if there is anything else that I want to click on. Nope, next.

If Club M is not an option at this time, then I have to find another way to meet someone. I don’t need Mr. Right, I just need a Mr. Right Now. Someone who can ease the dull ache forming between my legs. I am so sick of the bar scene, and I have heard of girls meeting great guys on the internet. I have never tried. Do I dare? I am not spending my bonus check on one of those matchmaking sites. Free. I need free. I Google “free personal ads” on my iPad
and pages upon pages pop up. Who knew? I start scrolling through some of them, but they are so extensive and detailed. That’s not really what I am looking for. What happened to the good old-fashioned personal ads. Now that newspapers are becoming obsolete, there has to be some type of classifieds online. AHA! Craigslist. Shut up, don’t judge me!

I click on New York City and scroll until I see the persona
ls section. There are a few categories to sift through. “Strictly platonic.” No, I need some hot loving! “Women seeking women.” Um, nope. Not that there is anything wrong with that, but women just don’t excite me sexually. “Women seeking men.” Well, yeah, but I am not posting an ad. “Men seeking women.” Hmm. Would that imply that I am looking for a relationship? I don’t want to give any dude out there the wrong idea that I am looking for anything other than a good lay. I scroll down a little further and find “Casual Encounter.” BAM! That’s exactly what I am looking for. I take a deep breath, close my eyes and click. When I open my eyes, there is an age disclaimer. Damn, that was anticlimactic!

Through
the waiver and more choices. Seriously? This is more difficult than getting your hands on a discounted wedding dress at Kleinfeld. Not that I am looking to get married or anything. Just sayin’.

I click on “m4w” and then pages and pages and pages of listing litter my screen. Holy hell! Some have pictures attached, but many don’t. I just start at the top and look for a topic that catches my eye.

“
Rock Hard” is the first one that interests me because –hello! - what girl doesn’t want a man who is exactly that. Rock freaking hard. I hope it is as good as promised. I would love to stop my search at number one. I click on it and check out the ad.

I have the Via
gra. Need a woman, 18-80 & able to go for hours. No picture exchange needed. Email me so we can set a time to meet.
[email protected]

Oh
, hell no! Next! Apparently, my subject line picking judgment is way off. This time, I flick my wrist and pick a random one my finger lands on. “Rock my World.” Okay, not too bad. Let’s open it up and see what this guy has to say for himself.

Looking for young SWF to rock my world. I mean literally. I want to be rocked like a baby while I dress up in a diaper and suck my thumb. Please email if interested!
[email protected]

The first sentence is perfect. Fitting. But then it goes all downhill.
I don’t even get to the second line before I start laughing hysterically. I just can’t… I mean, come on. It’s too much. I am actually having trouble forming a coherent thought. Are there really guys out there who enjoy this? Better yet, what woman wants to do this to a man? Children are hard enough work, and I’m not looking to make any babies. I need a man. A real man. Not some diaper wearing, thumb sucking freak! Oh my god, this is useless.

I flick my wrist one more time, now knowing that
my search is completely over. At this point, I am just looking at the ads to amuse myself while I am waiting for jack hole, er, I mean Parker, to get here. I am going to give him a piece of my mind! I stop the page haphazardly, pick a line without reading it, and click.

Married couple looking to add a little spice to our lives. Looking for a SHF with a little extra junk in the trunk. Must be able to host as we live with my parents. Must be able to multi-task
. Email a pic of your ass to:
[email protected]

On that note, I click the bottom button,
closing out Craigslist. I go to my bookmarks and erase my web history. So much for internet dating. I shut off my iPad and slide it back into my purse. I am done. Done. No really, I am done.
Where the hell is Parker?