Into the Darkness

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Into the Darkness Page 2

by Kat T. Masen


  The first two years were a struggle for them as they juggled studying and raising a child. I helped out whenever I could and thanked the lord when we graduated. There is nothing more satisfying than throwing your graduation cap into the air, as cliché as it sounds. It was the beginning of a new life, and I had waited and worked so hard for this day to come. Afterward, we all decided to move to New York City to try and make something of ourselves. Rocky was fortunate to have had a contact in the media industry and got a job almost immediately as a sports commentator. He could talk a glass eye to sleep about sports, something I had grown accustomed to. You know what they say: “If you can’t beat them, join them.” Okay, so it kind of helped that all athletes were hot. It became more of a perv-fest for me than actually following the games.

  Bull’s and I both found jobs at separate firms. The first year was grueling and I had questioned my decision several times, but somewhere along the way I realized I was making a difference. I loved everything about being a lawyer except for my seedy boss. I ignored his inappropriate comments about my attire and the way he said my hair smelled good when I walked past him. It was all kinds of wrong and it made me uncomfortable. Fortunately enough, a solution presented itself late one Sunday afternoon in Central Park.

  “Will called his nanny Mommy the other day.” Bull’s spoke softly as she watched Will play in the sandpit with the other children. “Charlie, I can’t do this anymore, work twelve-hour days and never see my son.”

  This is how Mason & Romano was born. We opened with a small client base and as we grew, we both hired personal assistants: Eric and Emma. Business was booming; we even hired another lawyer, Michael, and extra interns to run the office. Clients were scheduled back-to-back. I thrived under the pressure. Like I said, I was a passionate about my job.

  “Charlotte Olivia Mason. Are you daydreaming about your hot boyfriend again?” Eric’s voice interrupted my thoughts as he walked into my office.

  Damn, I should have been daydreaming about that.

  “No, sorry,” I mumbled.

  “Okay, but seriously were you daydreaming about Julian? It’s impossible not to.”

  Julian and I had been seeing each other for about two months, and here’s the thing: he looked just like Christian Bale, hot in all forms of hotness, and so I was dating Batman. We met at our local gym where I would check him out—okay, I would eye-fuck him from the treadmill every day—and he would politely smile back. I wasn’t shy around men but being drenched in sweat dampened my confidence. One night he walked over to me as I was lifting weights. His dashing Hollywood smile and handsome face caught me off guard and I nearly dropped the weights (and my pants) in a panic. He was quick to grab the bar and I embarrassingly word-vomited something about wiping my sweat from the bench before he used it. He laughed, this beautiful laugh. I could do nothing but laugh along with him, at myself. What else is a girl to do in a situation like that?

  “Okay, you’re doing it again. Charlie, snap out of it. Unless of course you’re thinking about his wang. In that case, do share,” he snickered.

  “Eric, I am not talking about Julian’s wang with you and I can’t believe we’re back to using the word wang.”

  “Weiner, Johnson, Pecker, Bratwurst, One-eyed monster, Baloney pony...”

  “STOP! Your penis slang is unsettling. Baloney pony? Seriously Eric, when have you ever said to someone, ‘Hey gorgeous, take off your pants and show me your Baloney pony.’ Who says that?”

  “Um, no one. Errrr, do you ask a guy to take off his pants? Where’s the dominatrix woman I had you pegged for?”

  “Okay, enough pecker-weiner talk. I’ve got an appointment in fifteen minutes. Now what else is on the agenda today?”

  …

  The day flew by and before I knew it, it was just after six. The office deserted, I was buried under a mountain of paperwork. It was now or never. I started going through the papers until my cell rang, startling me. As the name Batman flashed across my screen, I caught myself grinning before I answered.

  “Hey Gorgeous,” he greeted me in what could only be described as his sex voice. It did all kinds of crazy things to my lady parts. Why wasn’t I at home so we could have phone sex or something?

  “Hello yourself, is this an early night booty call?” I teased.

  “Mmm…don’t let me think about your booty, I’m in a conference room waiting for the senator to arrive.”

  “Well in that case have you thought about my tits as well? They are very happy in that black lacy number you like.”

  “You’re evil, you know that?”

  “Batman calling me evil? How predictable.”

  “I think I need to take you down to the Batcave, show you what Batman’s really into.”

  “Okay, but if any real bats fly at me, you can kiss your naughty rendezvous goodbye.”

  He laughed and went on to talk about how his day went. I enjoyed listening to him. He was just as driven as I was; his love of journalism was evident every time he spoke. After chatting for ten minutes, we agreed to meet up after eight for a bite to eat.

  I packed my bag and headed out the door. It was dark out, the cab lights brightening the streets. I waited on the sidewalk and hailed the next cab that drove past. It was my lucky day as it halted suddenly. I rushed over and climbed in. It was Monday night and like always, I took the cab to Rocky and Bull’s apartment.

  “Cha Cha, it’s you!” He threw himself at me as I walked through the door. God, I loved this kid. He was like a son to me. Hearing him call my name reminded me that I was his first word. Not Mommy or Daddy—it was Cha Cha, and it had stuck. With his head nestled on my stomach, I pulled him away so I could examine his face. His jet black hair was a replica of Rocky’s but it was his cornflower blue eyes that made him the spitting image of Bull’s. Tiny freckles covered his nose, his big smile contagious with his missing top teeth. I planted a kiss on his nose and embraced him again.

  “Of course it’s me, silly.”

  Like his dad, Will talked a mile a minute, from everything about school and what happened to his best friend’s dog, to the latest episode of Star Wars. It was an overload of information, especially from a six-year-old. Monday night was our night. I would come over after work, spend some time playing with him or doing homework and then reading a book to him in bed. Tonight’s activity was math. Most kids dreaded doing homework, but not Will. He was a freak of nature. He loved math, but I on the other hand did not care for it one bit. I saw the invention of the calculator as a godsend. This whole carry-the-number-over-here bullshit was so old-school. Yet here I was again, pretending to know what I was doing; thankfully Will was a genius. It only took him ten minutes to complete his homework before he climbed into bed where I took my usual place beside him.

  “What’s this book about?” I asked as he handed me a book.

  “A prince who loses his princess and has to search everywhere to find her.”

  Great, one of those stories. I put on a smile and opened the book to Chapter One. By the time I got to Chapter Four, Will’s eyes were drooping. I knew the signs that he was close to falling asleep.

  “Cha Cha, do you believe in fairy tales?” he mumbled half asleep.

  “You’re never too old to believe in fairy tales,” I whispered back.

  “Do you hope your prince will find you one day?”

  I closed my eyes for a moment, not wanting to explore the question. With a knot forming in my stomach, I quickly answered, hoping to veer off this topic. “I don’t know if I need a prince, maybe just someone who will love me.”

  With his eyes drooping further and a yawn escaping his mouth, he murmured his last words of the day before falling asleep. “I love you, Cha Cha. I’ll be your prince if you can’t find one.”

  It was moments like this that melted my heart. The love from a child was unconditional; it was the most precious gift anyone could give you. I wasn’t one of those needy women wanting to find a man, get married and get knocked up, but
there was a part of me that ached for that type of love—with the right man. Placing a kiss on Will’s forehead, I put the book on his nightstand and covered him with his blanket. I switched off the lamp, then tip-toed to the door and watched him. He looked so peaceful, his eyes fluttering every so often. His tiny snore could barely be heard. My heart wanted to burst with how much love I felt for this kid, a love tinged with longing. As the knot grew in the pit of my stomach I closed the door and went in search of Bull’s.

  “Your kid is going to be a math genius, you know?” I said as I walked into the kitchen where I found Bull’s washing the dishes.

  “Yes, well, he gets that from me. Remember how I tutored Rocky? That’s how we first met.”

  “Oh that’s right, you tutored him and in return you said he went down on you and gave you mind-blowing orgasms.”

  “Something like that.” She giggled.

  I hugged her tight around the waist as she stood there with gloves on, her elbows deep in suds. I said my goodbyes and left to go meet Julian at a small Italian restaurant downtown.

  …

  “You smell good,” he murmured as he leaned in and placed a kiss on my cheek.

  “Is that how we’re greeting each other now? Because if we are, you smell good too,” I teased back.

  He leaned in further and whispered, “If I greeted you the way I wanted to, we would be kicked out and arrested for indecent behavior.”

  “Oh c’mon, let’s try that,” I said. “YOLO.”

  “Eric is warping your mind.”

  “I know. It was his word of the week last week, but let’s get back to you taking me on the table…”

  “Don’t tempt me.”

  Pulling away, he grabbed the menu. I did the same, covering my smile as his words lingered. Damn, I was all kinds of hot and bothered now.

  Enzo’s was a small restaurant on the Upper East Side. It was a traditional Italian trattoria with checkered tablecloths that adorned the small tables. Candles were lit and soft piano music was playing in the background. The waiter had a mustache that would put Mario and Luigi to shame.

  “I’ll have a Corona and the lovely Charlie will have...” He waited for my response.

  “A margarita, please. What can I say? I’m a sucker for punishment.”

  He laughed, my insides doing a happy dance as his beautiful smile lit up the room. It was all fun and games now, but wait until I woke up in the morning with a splitting headache. It’s all about pacing myself, I can do this. Anyway, it was Monday night. Nobody gets drunk on a Monday, right?

  We finished our drinks before our meals arrived. Julian was easy to talk to. He had grown up in a small town in Louisiana with his mother and sister. His dad left when Julian was three and he never saw him again. He went to Yale where he studied journalism and met Serena, his girlfriend at the time. He thought she was the love of his life but she changed colleges and they couldn’t do the long distance thing.

  “Have you thought about contacting her?” I asked him. “Or should I say Facebook-stalking her?”

  “I did think about contacting her for a while, but I moved to New York and well, life became hectic. I heard from a friend that she was in Boston but I think the book’s closed on that one. If it was meant to be we would have worked it out back then.”

  He laid his hand on mine, gently caressing while he seductively looked into my eyes. My body starting to tingle all over, sex goose bumps, as I liked to call them. It had definitely been a while since someone made me feel this way. My mind was going crazy, wondering if it would be too slutty of me to say, “Hey, let’s skip dinner and do it like they do on the discovery channel.” Oh shit, seriously, what I am thinking? I wasn’t. I was a horny bitch who needed to get some baloney pony in my cooch…pronto. Damn Eric!

  “Enough about me,” he said. “What about you?”

  “I believe I have one get out of jail free card?”

  “Yes, and I believe you used that last weekend.”

  “Oh that’s right...when you fucked me in your bed. Oh no wait, was that the time against the wall? No, my bad, it was when you did me on your kitchen bench,” I said in my sexiest voice as I ran my foot up his leg.

  “Nice segue but you ain’t getting out of this. I want to know more about you, Charlie.”

  With a small pout I gave in. “I grew up in Carmel...”

  “Really? I never figured you for a California girl.”

  “Why? Because I’m not wearing Daisy Dukes with a bikini top?”

  “Carry on, smartass.”

  “I went to Carmel High. My dad was a truck driver so he was on the road a lot. It was just my mom, my older sister and lil’ old me until my sister left to go backpacking through Europe when I was fourteen. Mom and Dad split up when I was seventeen, then Mom moved back to Cuba to take care of my grandpa who was really sick. The rest is just a drunken frat night margarita haze before I landed here.”

  “Somehow I can’t imagine a drunken Charlie in college.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “You’re just so…together. I’ve never met a woman as career driven yet still has fun in life, not to mention is unbelievably gorgeous. It’s refreshing.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

  “And back home? No serious boyfriends left behind? How were you not taken sooner?”

  “How are you not taken?”

  “Ugh, it’s impossible to argue with a lawyer. Seriously, how did Charlie Mason not break any hearts in Carmel?”

  Almost choking on my drink, I let out a cough. He waited patiently for an answer. It was the skeleton in the closet that was happy to remain in hibernation. Tonight wasn’t the night to bring up the past, but we were at that point of the relationship when past relationship conversations were inevitable. Shrug it off, Charlie, it won’t invite any more questions.

  I shifted my eyes to the painting on the wall, unable to make eye contact as I spoke. “I dated a few guys in high school. There was this one guy my senior year, the typical high school crush type of thing,” I said, laughing it off.

  I think he could sense my discomfort and moved on. We chatted about his career, the stories he had covered, and of course we had a heated debate about American Idol. I enjoyed his company and for rest of the night we didn’t stop laughing at the stories he told of when he first moved to New York. I’m not sure if they were that funny or the margaritas had gotten the better of me.

  We took a cab back to his place, where he made me forget the world existed. Twice.

  …

  My head pounded. In actual fact I felt like I had been dug up. Damn that visit to Margaritaville! My alarm rang and I somehow managed to hit snooze. I fell back asleep until the ringing started again. This time I ignored snooze and made a mental note to just set my alarm later tomorrow. Why did I waste my time hitting snooze a thousand times when I could have slept in that extra twenty minutes uninterrupted? I dragged my tired self into the shower, got changed and headed to the office.

  “Updates please! Don’t leave a single thing out!” Eric exclaimed as I entered my office.

  I told him about the whole night: how great Julian was and the fact that I drank an entire year’s supply of margaritas. My head was pounding to a point I swear I could actually see my pulse throbbing out of the corner of my eye. Eric’s high-pitched voice and thirst for information did not help calm the storm brewing in my head.

  “You’re my source of amusement, Charlie. I live vicariously through your sexcapades.”

  “I don’t know why, E. You’re twenty-one and look like an Asian version of Zac Efron. I should be living through you,” I answered back.

  I sat back in my chair and glanced out the window. Life seemed perfect; Julian was amazing, everything I was looking for in a guy. He made me laugh, he was smart and he was so unbelievably hot that I swear my lady parts were in lady part heaven. Yes, Batman definitely ticked all my boxes including the one below. Life at work was busy and thriving on pressure was my
thing. Everything I worked hard for had paid off and I couldn’t help but feel that all of this was too good to be true. Just like my momma once told me though, perfection can never be reached. Shaking my head I thought, screw that notion. Life was perfect and I was sitting on top of the world, wearing my new Louboutins while trying to bury deeper the nagging feeling in the pit of my stomach that there was a dark storm gathering on the horizon, ready to come and rock me to the core.

  Chapter 2

  Lex

  I slowly opened my eyes and took in my surroundings. It was dark but I could see the sun peaking through the drawn curtains. The empty bottle of bourbon was lying on the nightstand as well as my wallet and cell. There was the stench of cheap perfume and sex in the air. Scattered across the floor were my clothes as well as a red halter-top dress. I looked at her sleeping peacefully beside me. A brunette, a rare slip-up. What was her name again? Brandy, Betty, Bindi? I carefully moved off the bed, got dressed, grabbed my wallet and cell, and left the room. The elevator took forever before I rode it up to the penthouse. I started packing my suitcase and called my assistant, Kate. She answered almost immediately.

  “Kate, what time is my flight to London?”

  “Eleven, sir.” She yawned as she answered.

  “Book me a room next to the airport. I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

  This wasn’t the first time I had called Kate at five in the morning asking for a hotel change. I just didn’t want the aftermath of trying to cut loose the hussy from last night. I arrived at the new hotel and showered before grabbing a quick bite to eat. The flight was quiet, thank God, which gave me a chance to catch up on work. I shut the lid of my laptop and closed my eyes, remembering how last night began.

  “Excuse me, sir, you left your credit card at the bar.”

  I looked up and before me was a gorgeous woman wearing a red halter dress, black pumps, her long brown hair flowing down her back. Of course she noticed when I eyed her from head to toe. Not bad, I thought to myself, it’s been a while since I got some pussy.

 

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