by LK Shaw
When she didn’t say anything else, it hit me that she meant for me to go to her. I cleared my throat and gave her a pointed look. “It would probably be best if you went to get her, if you don’t mind.”
Shoshana shook her head, but rose from her chair, mumbling under her breath. Within moments, faint footsteps echoed in the cavernous space, growing louder until she reappeared with Charity in tow. I breathed a sigh of relief that she wasn’t wearing my clothes again.
Her eyes widened and her lips began to tip up, but she recovered quickly, smothering her expression into a bland one. Shoshana returned to her desk, but she stared unabashedly at us as Charity moved within a few feet of me, but not close enough to reach out and touch.
I gestured with my head for us to move a little farther out of hearing distance.
“Maybe we can chat over there?” I asked.
Once I was sure that Shoshana wouldn’t be able to eavesdrop, I gave Charity the news.
“I talked to a guy I know—Sam. He owns Franklin’s Boxing Club, and he’d like to meet with you tomorrow morning about a job. Said you can come by around nine-thirty.”
“Seriously?” she asked in wide-eyed shock.
I nodded. She turned to Shoshana in excitement. “Did you hear that? I have an actual job interview.”
“That’s great, hon,” the other woman called back.
Stepping away had clearly been pointless. “Don’t get too excited. It’s just an interview. Plus, it’s not going to be the most glamorous job. Most likely you’ll be doing a lot of cleaning and wiping the stinky sweat from pubescent teenagers and middle-aged men off the equipment.”
Charity slashed her hand through the air. “I don’t even care about that. It’s a job. One that won’t include people yelling at me if I accidentally screw up their order. Or stiff me by not leaving a tip. This is the best news ever. Mr. Franklin won’t regret hiring me.”
Her enthusiasm was contagious, and I caught myself matching her smile. Our eyes met and held. A dash of pink crawled across her cheeks, and she lowered her gaze, biting her bottom lip with such innocence I sucked in a breath. What the fuck was I doing? I shook my head, my lips turning downward, and I cleared my throat.
“First thing first, don’t call him Mr. Franklin. He’ll only tell you that’s his father’s name. Call him Sam. Also, there’s no guarantee he’ll hire you. If he does, you need to know that he is going to make you work hard. He doesn’t know how to do anything else. The boxing club is his pride and joy and he expects a lot out of his employees,” I told her.
Charity looked back up at me, this time much more solemn. “Neither of you will regret this. I promise.”
“I’m sure you’ll do great. I’m happy to give you a ride and introduce you.”
She tugged her bottom lip in between her teeth, as though thinking about it, but then shook her head. “No, thank you. I’ll walk.”
“It’s downtown near the river, so not really walking distance. I don’t mind coming by and picking you up,” I told her.
“No,” Charity repeated, more firmly this time. “If you just give me the address, I can take the train. You and Yvonne have done plenty for me already, and I appreciate it, but I can do this on my own.”
There did seem to be something different about her, come to think of it. She seemed to hold her herself a little more confidently. Not quite as skittish and on edge, a bit more calm. It looked like talking with Spencer was doing her good.
“If you change your mind, you have my number.”
“I won’t.” She was pretty adamant.
There was an awkward lull between us, and I quickly filled it. “Let me write down the address for you and then I should get going. I just wanted to let you know about the interview and to wish you luck.”
Charity started twisting and turning her hair in that nervous gesture of hers again. “I really do appreciate what you’ve done for me, Officer Garrison.”
“What happened to Oliver?”
“I don’t think being so casual is such a good idea. I tend to forget boundaries sometimes,” Charity replied.
She was right. There were lines and boundaries that shouldn’t—couldn’t—be crossed. Which meant my business here was done. Business I probably needed to keep my nose out of in the future.
“Good luck tomorrow. I have a feeling you’re going to be a great asset to Sam.”
Needing to get out of here before I did or said something I’d regret, I turned and headed to the desk where Shoshana shamelessly stared at us, not even caring that she’d been caught. She handed me a post it note at my request, and I quickly jotted down the address for the boxing club.
Then, with some reluctance, I left without actually saying goodbye. I swore I felt Charity’s eyes following me all the way to my car.
Chapter 14
I woke up just as the sun began to filter through the floor to ceiling tinted windows after a remarkably nightmare free sleep. A giddy excitement coursed through my veins. Not even the inkling of fear that still made its presence known at the back of my brain could put a damper on today. I couldn’t remember a time that I’d felt this happy about a job interview. Usually I was nothing but a bundle of nerves and anxiety, but they were both absent. Or at least not making a nuisance of themselves.
Throwing back my thin blanket, I swung my legs over the edge of the bed, gave a little stretch before rising to pick out my work outfit for the day. My fingers latched onto the soft white cotton of Oliver’s t-shirt. For a brief moment, I considered wearing it, but then I cursed at myself and my stupid feelings and pushed it to the back of the drawer. Instead, I pulled out a different shirt and a pair of jeans. After a slight hesitation, I grabbed the pair of socks that had been Oliver’s, and after snatching up my small toiletry bag, I hustled through the shelter, my bare feet slapping on the cool concrete floor.
After a quick shower, I got dressed and combed my hair. It was only eight a.m., but no way was I going to be late, so I needed to head to the train stop. I didn’t want to fuck up this job before I even started. Dumping my stuff on my bed, I walked toward the front door. Doris, who worked the desk during the third shift, waved.
“You’re up awfully early.”
“I have a job interview,” I said with a happy grin.
She returned my smile. “Oh, that’s so great. Where at?”
“Franklin’s Boxing Club down by the river. I think it’s mostly cleaning type work. I don’t actually know.”
“Congratulations, Charity. I’m proud of you,” Doris said.
I waved bye. “Thanks. I gotta get going.”
“Have a good day.”
Once outside, my steps slowed and the itching began in my left arm. No, no, no. Not now. You can do this. I took a cleansing breath, filling my lungs with the humid late summer air, and whispered a fuck you to the fear trying to hold me back. I wasn’t going to let those cock suckers in Los Lobos win.
I thought of Oliver’s offer to give me a ride and almost regretted declining. If I’d taken him up on it, though, it would have lead down a road I didn’t want to travel. I shouldn’t travel.
I could handle this like a normal adult. No one needed to take care of me. I was going to learn to start taking care of myself, like Yvonne and I constantly talked about. Taking another deep breath, I forced my feet to start moving down the sidewalk.
Inhale.
Exhale.
The farther I walked, the easier it got. Finally, I reached the train stop. It would take me the rest of the way to Franklin’s. It didn’t take long before the next one arrived, and I settled in for the relatively quick trip. The scenery flew by, and my leg bounced an impatient beat.
There was a dull thump in front of me. I looked down and found a book on the floor. An older woman on the train seat opposite me, surrounded by grocery sacks and other packages, attempted to lean over and pick it up.
“Here, let me get that for you.” I quickly bent to scoop it up from the dirty rubber surface
beneath our feet. I studied the eye-catching cover for a moment before brushing it off and handing it over to her.
“Gracias,” she said, with a grateful smile, stuffing the book into the large bag resting on her lap.
“No hay problemo,” I replied, reflexively.
Her eyes shot up to meet mine, and her smile widened. “¿Tú hablas español?”
“Solo un poco.” I held up my hand with my thumb and forefinger nearly touching, but not quite. I wasn’t fluent in Spanish, but I could still understand more than I could speak, and I knew enough to get by.
“You speak it very well,” she said in heavily accented English.
“Thank you. My grandmother taught me, but it’s been many years since I spoke it regularly.” In fact, I hadn’t spoken it more than a handful of times in the eight years since I left my grandmother’s house, and she could no longer force me to only speak her language.
“Well, thank you for speaking it to me.”
“You’re welcome.” I gestured to where she’d stowed her book. “I love to read. Is that one good?”
She patted her bag. “Si, it is very good. It is about a passionate and forbidden love affair between a young girl forced to marry a horrible old man and the boy she stumbled upon at an art museum one day.”
That piqued my interest. I loved a romance where the two main characters shouldn’t fall in love for whatever reason—the more scandalous the better—but conquered the odds and lived happily ever after. I’d dreamed of my own knight in shining armor swooping in to save me ever since I was a little girl. It was the ultimate fairytale I told myself on nights when I struggled to fight against the latest sickness poisoning my body.
“I hope their ending is a happy one,” I said.
“Forbidden romances never seem to end well, I’m afraid, but perhaps this one will be different,” she replied with a hopeful smile.
Before long the train reached my stop. The woman across from me began gathering up all her bags and soon she was so loaded down, I wasn’t sure how she’d managed to carry them all onto the train in the first place. I hoped she didn’t have far to go. The train came to a halt and everyone began to disembark, including the older woman. She struggled under the weight of all her packages but made it out of the car just as the doors closed.
“Excuse me. Would you like some help?” I asked her.
She glanced up at me with such relief, but then her expression shifted. “No, thank you. I’m sure you have somewhere to be.”
“I’m on my way to a job interview, but I still have some time. If I’m able, I’ll be happy to help. What direction are you headed?”
“LaSalle and Monroe,” she said.
I quickly calculated how far out of my way I’d have to go to help her. Considering how early it was, I should still make it in plenty of time.
“Here, let me help.” I reached out and took a few bags out of her hand, alleviating some of her burden.
“Gracias, cariño” she said, clearly relieved at the assistance.
“I’m Charity, by the way,” I introduced myself as we headed down the sidewalk toward her destination.
“It is lovely to meet you, Charity. I am Maria,” she replied.
“Nice to meet you as well.”
It was a beautiful day with only the slightest hint of approaching fall weather. Soon, the city would begin preparing for the bitter winter, but I always loved that short bit of time we had where the air was crisp. We were in the heart of downtown, smack dab between the Chicago River and Millennium Park so there were quite a few people walking around.
Men and women dressed in business suits hurried along the sidewalks while others wore casual attire and were most likely tourists. The tall buildings blocked out most of the sun, so the temperature in the shade was slightly on the cooler side.
“I am still not used to this cold weather,” Maria said after a couple blocks.
“Are you new to Chicago?”
“Si. I have only been here a short time.”
I sent her a sympathetic look. “I’m afraid to be the one to tell you that it’s not anywhere near cold yet.”
Her expression was so forlorn, I struggled to smother my smile. Her lips tipped up and her eyes began to sparkle with amusement. “You should not take pleasure in being the bearer of such bad news,” she playfully scolded.
This time I couldn’t hold in my giggle. “I know, I’m sorry, but you looked so disgruntled I couldn’t help myself.”
“Well, I am happy to make you smile.”
“What brought you to Chicago, if you don’t mind me asking?” I shifted the packages in my arms for a better grip, glancing over at Maria to make sure she wasn’t struggling with her load.
She met my eyes, her expression softening with affection. “My son.”
Maria had shooed me off once we made it to her apartment building. She said the doorman would help her get her bags inside. I’d waved goodbye and hustled toward the gym, until finally the large, single-story warehouse building came into view.
The outside was painted a bright white and in giant, blue lettering across the front, it read “Franklin’s Boxing Club Est. 1982”, the double glass doors separating the first two words from the last three. I opened the right side one, and the pungent scent of sweat mixed with some type of cleaning solution slapped me in the face.
The door closed behind me leaving the interior dim compared to the brightness of the outside world. It was quiet and empty in here. A little eery actually. Light streamed through some of the windows looking like laser beams homing in on targets on the cement floor while dust motes flittered through the air inside the rays.
There were three raised boxing rings in a triangle formation. Off to the right side of the large open space were a grouping of upright punching bags, each one balanced on a rod sprouting from the middle of a round, stationary base. Further toward the back of the room, a bunch of bags dangled from chains mounted to the ceiling.
On the left hand side, some small, tear-drop shaped bags hung from round metal disks attached to metal wire racks that reminded me of something similar to a towel rack that were anchored into the wall.
“Can I help you?”
I jumped and screeched at the booming voice that sounded far too near. My head whipped around and a slender Black man was on the backside of the single ring and coming toward me. He had a white towel slung over his shoulder and he was wiping his hands on the bottom end of it.
“Mr.—Mr. Franklin?” I stuttered trying to calm my racing heart and forgetting Oliver’s instruction to use the man’s first name. “I’m Charity Yates. I was supposed to come by today about the job. Oliver, I mean, Officer Garrison sent me.”
His eyes turned to the wall on his left and then his gaze met mine again, his lips tilting up the slightest bit. “First off, it’s Sam. Second, you’re here kinda early, aren’t ya?”
I glanced up to where he’d directed his attention. An old, round analog clock hung on the wall. Its hands showed it was barely after nine a.m., even after the detour to help Maria. My cheeks grew hot. So maybe I’d been a little overeager to get here. Okay, extremely overeager since, from the looks of it, the gym wasn’t even open yet.
“I’m sorry,” I said, my eyes lowered to the floor.
“No need to be sorry. I should be the one to apologize for embarrassing you, however unintentionally. I can tell we’re going to get along just fine.”
My head jerked up. “But you don’t even know anything about me.”
“I know all I need to. Oliver put in a solid word for you and you clearly are trying to make a good impression, which means a lot. Besides that, I’ve always been an excellent judge of character. I have a keen instinct for that kind of thing. Now, why don’t I give you the grand tour and let you know what you’ll be responsible for.”
A half hour later, Sam and I were seated at the desk in his office at the back of the building. We’d gone through the entire list of things he wanted me to do
and showed me how to care for some of the special equipment. I’d also be responsible for washing all the dirty towels that the fighters used throughout the day and keeping the locker rooms stocked full of clean ones.
As long as I did my job, he had no reason to micromanage me, which was a huge relief. I got nervous when it felt like my boss was constantly looking over my shoulder and breathing down my neck making sure I was doing the job right. I also didn’t have to worry about pissing off customers so long as they had fresh towels and clean equipment.
“Normally, I would have you fill out all those pesky employment forms, but we’re not going to deal with any of that nonsense. I can give you four hours a day of work every day but Sunday when we’re closed, and I’ll pay three hundred a week cash, if you think that’s fair.”
That was more than I was bringing home from the diner for a lot less work. There was no way I was turning that down. “Yes, sir, that’s extremely fair.”
Sam gave me a stern look. “I’ll dock your pay for every time you call me sir or Mr. Franklin.”
Oops. “Sorry, Sam.”
“Alright, young lady, how soon would you like to start?”
Chapter 15
I’d been avoiding going to Franklin’s for one simple reason.
Charity.
I couldn’t stop thinking about her. Fuck if I knew why. It was so not like me. Women didn’t fascinate me. Thoughts of them didn’t linger in my mind. Yet she did.
The only person I could even talk to about this preoccupation, or whatever it was, with her, was Sam. And the only real way to talk to him was face to face, which was the exact thing I’d been avoiding because she might be there. This is bullshit. I grabbed my keys and headed out to my car.
Sam was the first person I spotted after walking through the door.
“You about ready to stop punching that bag and actually spar with a real human?” he said by way of introduction. “I’ve had a couple of the guys ask.”
“Hello to you too.” I said, wryly, shaking his hand. “And what guys?”