Never Say Never

by Taylor Holloway

  “Eva— where are you? He’s having another episode!” A man’s urgent voice came through the walkie-talkie clipped to Eva’s waist. Eva and I exchanged a shocked look.

  “On my way!” She said into the device. “This is the last record,” Eva told me, handing over a folder before double-checking the cabinet and then shutting and locking it. “I gotta go right now. He gets confused sometimes and it makes him angry. Then he acts out.”

  She made the billionaire patriarch sound like a naughty toddler.

  “Ok thanks. Um, how do I get out of here?” I asked Eva, looking at the three boxes and the doorway that led to the dark hallway behind. Eva was already headed that direction.

  “Impressionist landscape hallway to cubism hallway. Turn left at neoclassical architectural drawings and left at Dadaism. Then it’s straight to the main entrance. Follow the sound of basketball if you get lost!”

  I heard the distant sound of glass breaking and Eva did a double take toward the sound. She took off running down the hallway, her long braid flying behind her like a pennant. Her ass twitched back and forth as she went.

  “Nice seeing you Charlie!” She yelled over her shoulder.

  Now alone in the silent file room, I pulled out my phone and began googling Dadaism. I’d save the search on Eva for later in my apartment.

  With Dr. Matthieu out of town and Eva as the only credentialed nurse available, I was going to need her help in putting together all the records required for the insurance claim Richard needed filed. I could already see myself hanging around with my best friend’s sexy little sister for several days for this project—what could go wrong?

  4

  Eva

  Charlie. Charles Townsend. The man was still sex in a three-piece suit. Did he really think I would forget him? If I got my way, he was going to be mine. It didn’t matter to me that he was my brother’s best friend. I had no idea if I’d ever see him again, and I was much bolder in my wild, personal fantasies than I’d ever be in real life, but I’d love for him to be my next adventure.

  Who was I kidding? That wasn’t me. Pursuing sexy older men wasn’t something I did, had ever done, or even knew how to do. My previous relationships, all two of them, had been slow to develop for a reason. I was a notoriously careful person. Plus, Dylan would hate the idea of me with Charlie. I hadn’t expected to ever see him again, although when I decided to move here I did feel just the tiniest thrill that he would be in the same zip code. I’d given up my girlish fantasies of making it work with Charlie a long time ago.

  Still, now that I’d graduated from college and moved away from everything and everyone I knew, I was determined to stop being so careful all the time. I wanted to be adventurous. I’d nearly wet my pants when he startled me. I knew I wanted Charlie from the moment I laid eyes on him when I was only sixteen . Charlie was just my type; in fact, he was every woman’s type.

  I spent the rest of the day daydreaming about Charlie when I wasn’t cleaning up the things Alexander broke. He was in a grumpy mood today. It was so bad that I almost cancelled the evening’s planned trip to the country club. Ultimately it was that threat which convinced him to settle down.

  By the time we arrived at Waterloo Country Club that evening, Alexander’s mood had brightened. He liked getting out of the house and being around people again. I was in a good mood too. Other than my pajamas this was my first opportunity not to wear scrubs in the two weeks I’d been in Philadelphia. I did my makeup, curled my hair, and put on heels. I felt human again and it was amazing. Just not wearing crocs made me feel like a million bucks.

  My excitement to be out and about again was short lived. The country club was stodgy, ostentatious, and filled with old people on a Tuesday night. It was immediately apparent that I didn’t fit in. My simple navy sheath dress was out of place amongst designer gowns. I wasn’t carrying a bag with a designer label on it, and I didn’t have a glass of overpriced wine in my hand. Most importantly, I didn’t have a little group of similarly dressed women with whom I could complain of my boring husband, idle life, and vacuous privilege. People’s eyes seemed to slide off me like I wasn’t even there. I’d never felt more profoundly outclassed. At least the food was ok.

  After the endless cocktail and dinner hours, it was almost time to leave. I pushed Alexander’s wheelchair to a poker table with a few of his ancient friends, left him under Thomas’ care, and set out on a mission to find myself a bathroom. I hadn’t taken more than a few steps before someone almost poured a glass of white wine on me. I narrowly avoided the liquid, but most of the drink ended up on the floor.

  “Watch where the fuck you’re going!” A woman snapped at me rudely. “Are you blind? I’ll get you fired in an instant. Go get me a new drink right now!”

  I gaped at her.

  My response was snide and automatic. I was running on indignation. “Excuse you. I’m not sure what your problem is but I bet it’s hard to pronounce. I don’t work here, lady.”

  The woman’s dark blue eyes narrowed angrily. She drew herself up to her full height, which was positively Amazonian and augmented by a pair of dangerous looking high heels. She glared down at me like I was a cockroach.

  I may not be a Country Club member like this woman or have a Chanel handbag and a pair of big-ass diamond earrings dangling off my earlobes like little disco balls, but I had every right to walk through a goddamn room without being accosted. I looked up at her with as much disdain as she was aiming at me. Our staring contest stretched.

  She blinked first.

  “Listen up you little—” the glamorous giantess began to whisper through her teeth. I felt my hands balling up into fists.

  “Angelica! Jesus,” someone crowed dismissively, “we can’t leave you alone for five seconds without you getting in a fight with someone?”

  My attacker paused.

  My rescuer was petite like me, and probably not old enough to drink. Her long, wild, dark hair and cute vintage dress looked a bit out of place in the polished country club. At her side, another teenage girl with blonde hair looked on in silent disapproval.

  Angelica stomped off with a little huff, likely to get herself another glass of wine. Possibly to verbally attack another innocent bystander. The two teenagers watched her go with matching looks of irritation.

  “I’m so sorry about that,” the blonde girl told me kindly. “My sister tends to rub people the wrong way. She’s sort-of the worst when someone gets between her and her wine.”

  I laughed at the girl’s honesty. She clearly wasn’t the biggest fan of her sister’s attitude, and she had the long-suffering look that said she spent a lot of time apologizing for it; it certainly seemed like a thankless position. “I probably could have taken her, but thanks for the intervention. I’d hate to cause a scene tonight. I’m Eva Martin.”

  “Clara Ellis,” the girl replied with a shy smile. Her hair was dirty-blonde, and her eyes were a vivid blue just like her sister’s. She was wearing a pink baby-doll dress that accentuated her innocence. “This is Madison Clark.” The smart-mouthed brunette at her side waved at me.

  I liked these girls. They were probably in their very late teens, maybe twenty, but they were the most normal people I’d met at the country club so far. It gave me hope for future generations.

  “Are you related to Frank Martin?” Clara asked. Her voice was sweet, but I knew she was trying to place me in the hierarchy of Waterloo. “Dr. Martin is my neighbor. I babysit his dog Bowser when he’s out of town.”

  I shook my head. Better just to be honest that I was at the bottom of the social pyramid. Most of the zeros in my bank account were behind the decimal. My college loan statements were another subject entirely. Duke wasn’t cheap.

  “No, I’m not from around here. I work for Mr. Durant. I’m a nurse,” I told her, glancing over at Alexander.

  Madison and Clara exchanged a shocked look with one another. They were… impressed? Everyone in this town seemed to know Alexander Durant. And everyone
seemed to be deathly afraid of him. I still couldn’t figure out why. He was just a crotchety old man.

  “No wonder you held your own against Angelica,” Madison said after a second. Clara looked curious. “What’s it like living at the Durant mansion?”

  “Honestly? It’s really weird,” I said and they both giggled.

  Clara shook her head in disbelief. “I’ll bet it is. That place is pretty spooky. And empty. I’ll never set foot in there again, that’s for sure.”

  “I think we’re still banned anyway,” Madison replied with a shrug. She looked like she could care less but it seemed forced. Clara frowned and blushed. There was a story there, but I wouldn’t learn what it was because both girls suddenly froze as someone approached from behind me.

  I could hear his footsteps on the soft carpet. It was clearly a man by the sound. Somehow, I knew it who it was although I had no idea how and didn’t expect to see him tonight. Charlie. It’s like I could feel it through my bones.

  “You, Maddie Clark, should be banned from the country club bar,” he said as he approached. His voice was as smooth and dark as espresso. “I know for a fact you aren’t old enough to drink. I doubt Ms. Ellis is either. Do your parents know you’re in here?”

  Madison looked only slightly chagrined. Clara, on the other hand, looked mortified. Charlie’s expression shifted to vaguely guilty when he saw how frightened Clara was. He’d obviously been joking, but I guess she couldn’t tell. Clara seemed very timid.

  “Jeez Charlie,” I teased. I felt bold and energized after my little tete-a-tete with the nasty Angelica woman. Plus, I owed these girls. “Don’t be such a narc. They’re only feet from the dining room.”

  In response, Charlie raised an eyebrow. “I should probably ask to see your ID, too. How old are you anyway?”

  I smirked at him. Really? I was short, but I wasn’t jailbait. “You know how hold I am. How old are you? You’re older than my brother, right? That would make you at least thirty.”

  He grimaced as if pained that someone would level his own question back at him. “Old enough.”

  “He’s embarrassed!” Madison fake-whispered to Clara so we could all hear her. I stifled my smile. One reliable thing about teenagers is that they come in only two varieties: pure shamelessness or perpetually embarrassed. Madison was the first type. “He knows he’s super old.”

  “I’m not super old,” He grumbled.

  Madison giggled. “Yeah you are. That’s why you won’t tell us. You don’t want Eva to think you’re old.”

  Charlie looked everywhere but at the three of us in front of him. The tips of his ears were pink. “My age is divisible by eight.”

  Madison guessed first. Her grin was evil. “Forty-eight?”

  Charlie cringed. I stifled my smile. I’d already figured it out, but this was too entertaining to stop.

  Poor Clara looked embarrassed for Charlie. She was the second type of teenager. “Um. Twenty-four?” Her offer was at least better, but obviously still wrong. I suspected she was just trying to be nice.

  I covered my mouth with my hand in amusement as Charlie clearly tried to decide whether Clara was being intentionally facetious. He looked confused and frustrated. I’m not sure what he expected giving two teenagers a riddle like that. All adults look old when you’re nineteen. Finally, he gritted his teeth and admitted it. “I’m thirty-two. Shit.”

  Madison rolled her eyes. “Well maybe don’t make us guess then. Ever think of that? My next answer was going to be sixty-four. I was sure it was right on. Come on Clara, let’s get out here before he narcs on us to my dad. It was nice meeting you Eva. If he asks you out, say no.”

  They took off in the same direction they’d come from.

  I decided Charlie hadn’t been teased enough yet, “Chasing underage girls out of the country club bar on a weeknight? You must have a vibrant social life Mr. Townsend.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Please Eva, call me Charlie, and keeping my boss’ daughter out of trouble is just one of my many job responsibilities. And what’s a social life? I don’t think I have one of those.”

  I smirked and shook my head. “You’re probably asking the wrong woman. This is my first time wearing real clothes in weeks. I almost forgot what it was like to wear un-sensible shoes.”

  “You look beautiful.” I could see his gaze sweep up and down my outfit appreciatively, lingering on the exposed skin of my legs, arms, and décolletage. The words had been heartfelt-sounding but they no sooner left his mouth than he looked like he regretted saying them.

  “Thank you.” I felt a hot blush stinging my cheeks.

  A few seconds ticked by in awkward, silent agony. I’d never been good at flirting. If that was even what was happening. I wasn’t sure. Charlie looked resolutely at the ground.

  “Do you want to see the ducks that live here?” Charlie asked suddenly, adding sheepishly, “I remember you like ducks, plus I need your help with something.”

  I giggled. “Sure. But shouldn’t they fly south for the winter?”

  Charlie grinned at me and led me out on the balcony which overlooked a small pond. “Not these chubby ducks. They’ve got a good thing going.”

  He clearly wasn’t wrong. Despite the cool temperatures, about twenty hugely obese ducks were sleeping up next to the water. Adjacent to the pond, a hot tub must provide the warmth they needed. The little flock looked perfectly content, all curled up next to one another. There were even some unseasonable babies.

  “How’d they get so fat?”

  “Mostly Madison Clark. I’ve seen her and plenty of other kids—and even some adults—feeding them dinner rolls.”

  “They look over fed but at least they’re happy.”

  Charlie was looking at me intensely when I turned back to him. “I thought you’d like them.”

  “Did you just use the promise of ducks to get me alone?” I asked. He nodded, not bothering to deny it. He was charming, but not particularly subtle.

  “I need your help with something.”

  “Oh?” I took a step closer.

  “Yes,” he said, and then reached out to tip my chin up.

  When he kissed me it was like all the years between our first and second kisses disappeared. I was the same giddy teenager eager for his attention, and in that moment, I had it. He kissed me senseless, wrapping his arms around me and expertly teasing my tongue with his. Our embrace deepened, becoming intimate, and I longed to feel his hands all over me. His right hand on my waist dipped just enough to brush the top of my ass and I felt a fire starting inside me. We stumbled against the wall and he pushed my back against it and stepped closer. His fingers lifted my skirt, eagerly stroking along my silky stocking-clad thighs and ass and making me momentarily forget the cold of the balcony. I was thinking about going for his zipper and the thick warmth I felt pressing against me beyond it when a sudden small noise from inside snapped me back to reality. I pulled away to see Charlie looking just as stunned as me.

  Had that really just happened?

  “Um, well, I need to powder my nose and get back to my patient. He has to be home by nine to take his evening meds.”

  Charlie seemed unable to reply until I was almost out of range. “Wait, I was hoping we could talk for a few minutes. I really do need to talk to you about the records we found today.”

  For all my private plans and secret bravado about having adventures, I wasn’t actually very brave. Moving to Philadelphia for this job was the most impulsive thing I’d ever done in my life and I only did it because I couldn’t stand the constant parade of drug overdoses and gunshot wounds in Atlanta’s ERs. I’m the sort of person who plans their lunches for the whole week before I make a shopping list. Being spontaneous about my lunch meat selections, let alone spontaneously intimate in a public place, isn’t in my DNA. I also wasn’t kidding about my schedule. Thomas was probably wondering where I’d run off to.

  I shook my head. “Sorry. Perhaps another time. I really am working. Have a ni
ce evening Charlie.”

  “Can I call you later?”

  “Um, sure. I have to go now though.”

  My mouth seemed to have stopped working. The teasing, bold woman who picked a fight in a country club with a stranger had vanished. All that was left was me. And I was scared.

  I knew he watched me walk away, and I could practically feel his eyes on my retreating body. Scurrying off to the privacy of the ladies’ room, I stared at the coward in the mirror. She didn’t look impressed.

  Why did you run off like that? He’s clearly into you.

  Adventure had just come looking for me and I ran away with my tail between my legs. I sighed at my reflection and shook my head.

  Typical.

  5

  Charlie

  After our encounter at the country club I came to the profound realization that calling Eva would be difficult without knowing what numbers to dial. I wasn’t exactly living up to the smooth and savvy reputation I managed to cultivate over the last four years as a corporate fixer. Luckily, her friend/coworker Thomas was perfectly happy to play matchmaker. All I had to do was tell him I was interested in Eva, and he coughed up the digits without any arm-twisting whatsoever. I was grateful; it’s not like I could ask Dylan for his sister’s number.

  Sadly, now that I had what I needed I seemed to be paralyzed. I’d been trying to send Eva a text for an hour. It was beginning to feel pathetic.

  Hi this is Charlie. I’d like to meet. But not on a date or anything. I’d like to discuss Edith some more and may need your help with interpreting a few things.

  I deleted the text before sending it. That was entirely the wrong tone.

  This is Charlie. Would you be willing to meet me for coffee tomorrow? For business.

  Nope. Definitely not. Delete.

  Why was this so freaking hard? Was it because I wasn’t being honest with myself? I drafted and then deleted three separate messages before staring blankly at the text window for a solid ten minutes.