The Cost of Love

by Parke, Nerika

  “I see the problem,” he said, his voice echoing in the enclosed space. “I think a long knife would do it. Do you have a breadknife or something?”

  She passed him a knife and waited.

  “Okay, I’ve got it,” he said. “Almost there. Almost...”

  There was a yell and a squelching splash. The sink began to drain. Charlotte heard the water running into the bucket.

  Jason sat up. His purple shirt clung to him, saturated in a brownish gloop. More brown splashes covered the front of his jeans, his arms and face.

  “I’ve cleared the blockage, as you may be able to see,” he said.

  Charlotte burst into laughter.

  He stood and advanced towards her. “How about a thank you hug,” he said, holding his arms out.

  “Don’t you dare!” she laughed, backing away.

  She grabbed the tea towel from the oven handle and threw it at him and he snatched it out of the air.

  “Oh, that’s gratitude,” he said, smiling as he pulled off the gloves. He wiped the brown sink goo from his face with the tea towel.

  “Thank you,” she said, then made a face. “You smell terrible.”

  “One of my many attractive qualities,” he said, looking down at himself. “Um...”

  Charlotte reached out and took hold of his hand, the only clean part of him, having been encased in the rubber gloves. “Come on.”

  She left Jason in her bathroom with clean towels and a promise to return for his clothing. Five minutes later, when she heard the shower stop, she knocked on the bathroom door and closed her eyes.

  “Are your clothes ready to be washed?” she said when she heard it open, holding out her hands blindly.

  Jason chuckled in front of her. “It’s okay, you can open your eyes. I’m decent.”

  She opened her eyes. He was standing in the doorway, a towel wrapped around his waist. He held his dirty clothes in one hand while rubbing his hair with a second towel.

  She tried not to, she really did, but her eyes couldn’t help drifting downwards. Muscles. Lots of muscles. The kind of muscles you usually only saw in films or on romance novel covers. Still glistening with moisture from his shower.

  She swallowed and grabbed the clothes from him. “I’ll... I’ll get these in the machine.” She whirled away.

  “Um, Charlie?”

  She didn’t turn back. “Yes?”

  “Do you have anything I can wear? I’m happy to stay in the towel, but you seem a little uncomfortable.”

  “Oh, it’s not... it’s just that I’m not used to having half naked men in my bathroom.” She winced. Did she really have to put it like that?

  There was a pause before he answered. “Well, on behalf of the male gender, I have to say that’s a shame.”

  Her breath caught in her throat. Shaking her head, she tried to focus while a vision of the sculpted abs behind her danced before her eyes. What could she give him to wear? She was fairly sure she wouldn’t survive the evening with him wearing just a towel.

  “I’m not sure I have anything that would fit... No, wait.”

  She ran into her bedroom and pulled her dressing gown from the back of the door. It might be a bit tight across the shoulders, but it should be big enough.

  When she returned to the landing, Jason and his spectacular pecs and abs were still standing in the bathroom doorway.

  “It’s all I have,” she said. “Sorry.”

  He took the pink fluffy item from her hands. “I... um... okay. I suppose I’m secure enough in my masculinity to pull this off,” he said with a smile.

  Please don’t say masculinity when you’re looking like that.

  She smiled, turned, and fled.

  “What smells so nice?”

  Charlotte turned to see Jason walk in wearing his black socks and her pink dressing gown, which came to his knees. She burst into laughter.

  “Go ahead and laugh,” he said, stroking the sleeve, “but I may never take this off. Do they make them in men’s sizes?”

  “Probably not in pink,” she said.

  “Darn, and I had my heart set on a pink one.”

  She giggled and returned her attention to the pasta sauce she was stirring on the hob. “There’s breadsticks, if you want something while dinner’s cooking,” she said, indicating a box on the counter.

  “You didn’t have to cook,” he said, sliding a breadstick from the box and leaning against the counter edge next to her. “We could have ordered a takeaway.”

  “Call it a thank you for risking life and limb to unblock my sink,” she said. “I really am grateful. You’re my hero.”

  He smiled. “It was my pleasure.”

  “Really?”

  “Well, okay, not the getting covered with smelly gunk bit. But being your hero is definitely worth it.”

  Charlotte smiled, blushed and looked back at the sauce, giving her heart a mental kick to calm it down.

  Jason put the last piece of breadstick into his mouth and straightened. “What can I do?”

  You can tell me you want to stay with me forever.

  “Uh, you can stir this while I get the pasta.”

  Pasta was pretty much all Charlotte knew how to make, but it didn’t taste bad and Jason was very complimentary. After eating, they had coffee and biscuits for dessert, relaxing on the sofa and chatting.

  Charlotte’s idea of the perfect date was that it should fulfil three specific criteria:

  1) No awkward silences or desperate brainstorming to think of what to say next.

  2) No boredom, on either side.

  3) No accidental knocking over of drinks leading to deep embarrassment, which she had a knack for.

  In all her twenty-three years, she’d never had a date that managed the hat trick. Now, she’d had two in two days.

  Being with Jason was easy. Comfortable. It was a dichotomy, like talking to an old friend she didn’t know. Strangely, knowing he had been paid to be there made it easier, as if the burden of being entertaining was off her shoulders, so she could be herself. It was refreshing.

  More than anything, she hoped he felt the same way about being with her. She didn’t want to be just another one of his clients. Even though they would never see each other again after the next three days, she wanted him to remember her for all the right reasons.

  “My friend’s band is playing at The Jupiter tomorrow night,” Jason said as he stood by the door, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his now washed and dried jeans. “He invited me to go and see them.”

  Charlotte nodded in understanding, hiding her disappointment. “That’s okay. So I’ll see you on Thursday?”

  “Oh no, I was going to ask if you’d like to go with me. They’re really good.” He leaned against the doorframe and smiled.

  He wanted her to meet people he knew? Don’t look surprised, don’t look surprised. “I... yes. I’d love to.”

  He breathed out and nodded. “Great. I’ll pick you up at half past eight.” He stepped out the door, then turned back. “I had a really good time tonight.”

  “Even with the gunk?” she said, trying to wrestle the enormous grin trying to climb onto her face into submission.

  “Especially with the gunk.”

  The grin started to gain the upper hand. “I did too.”

  After he’d gone, Charlotte wandered up the stairs, dropped onto her back on her bed and hugged her dressing gown to her, taking in a deep breath of his scent lingering in the fluffy fabric and grinning to her heart’s content.

  _ _ _

  “I’m guessing by the humming that you had another good time with your new client. Did you actually get to do the deed this time?”

  “Move your feet. And sometimes having a good time means connecting with someone on an emotional level, not a physical one.” Jason sat down on the sofa as Rob moved his sock-clad feet to the coffee table.

  “What chick flick did you get that one from?”

  Jason heaved an exaggerated sigh. “Philist
ine.”

  “Did that star Meryl Streep?”

  He snorted and smacked Rob’s arm with the back of his hand.

  “What’s her name anyway?” Rob said. “You didn’t tell me.”

  He couldn’t help smiling as her face came into his mind. “Charlotte.”

  “Hmm.”

  “Hmm what?”

  “That’s a look I haven’t seen on you for a long time. In fact, I’m not sure I’ve ever seen that look on you.”

  “What look?”

  “You’re falling for her.”

  Jason’s heart rate kicked it up a notch. “I’m... no, I’m not, no.”

  “That’s a lot of denial for such a short sentence.”

  “I am simply conveying the complete and utter lack of veracity in the assertion that I am falling for her. What’s on TV?”

  “Throwing lawyer speak at me then trying to change the subject is not going to change the fact that I am right.”

  “Please, we’ll be old men before you’re right. Give me the remote.”

  Jason switched on the TV, but he barely saw the onscreen display as he scrolled through the channels.

  He couldn’t be falling for Charlotte. And even if he was, she wouldn’t fall for him, not with what he was. It was a business transaction, nothing more.

  So why did the thought that they only had three more evenings together make him feel so sad?

  DAY 3

  Charlotte wasn’t a great club-goer, meaning she’d been to one in her entire life, when Tiffany dragged her out on her twenty-first birthday. After that, she wasn’t keen to repeat the experience.

  She’d spent the entire night shouting to be heard over the music and watching her friend, who with her oriental beauty and I’m-here-to-have-fun attitude was always popular, get hit on by just about every man in the place. Tiff told her the only reason Charlotte wasn’t being hit on too was because she was giving out leave-me-alone vibes. It might have been true, but being hit on made her feel extremely uncomfortable. She never knew what to say.

  Eventually, Tiffany had hooked up with a gorgeous university student who she ended up dating for nine months, and Charlotte had caught a taxi home and gone to bed in the company of a good book.

  Even though it was a Wednesday, Club Jupiter was packed, although it wasn’t a very big place to begin with. Jason kept hold of Charlotte’s hand as he led her through the crowd towards the bar.

  He was wearing a long sleeved black top with a grey rose and skull design on the front. It fitted him very well, showing off his toned physique which, despite having only seen it the once the previous evening, seemed to be tattooed onto the inside of Charlotte’s eyelids. His black jeans also fitted him very well. As soon as they entered, she noticed several women looking in his direction. A couple of men looked in their direction too. She decided they had to be gay, because there was no way they’d be looking at her.

  “What would you like?” he said when they reached the bar.

  “Just a coke,” she replied. She didn’t drink much, but when she did she had a habit of making a fool of herself. Which was why she didn’t drink much.

  Jason waved the bartender over. “Two cokes,” he said.

  Charlotte turned to look around the room. A small stage at the far end was set up for the gig and a few posters dotted around the walls proclaimed how proud Club Jupiter was to be presenting up and coming band Brakedown, and they’d be onstage at nine. A pounding bassline blared from the sound system and the dancefloor in front of the stage was writhing with people.

  The interior decorator had obviously had a thing for chrome. It was everywhere, reflecting the multicoloured lights sweeping over the room. Every non-chrome surface was shiny and black.

  A young woman wearing a dress made of what appeared to be two pieces of string, a handkerchief and air, pushed past her and straight up to Jason. She laid her hand on his bicep and leaned forward, presumably to give him a prime view of her bust, which really wasn’t necessary as everyone in the club had one anyway, whether they wanted it or not.

  Charlotte looked down at her skinny jeans and paisley patterned top. In comparison, she felt like a frump.

  “I haven’t seen you in here before,” the woman purred at Jason. “And I definitely would have noticed.”

  “I’m just here to see the band,” he replied, turning away to hand the bartender the money for the drinks.

  The woman pressed herself up against him as he turned back. “Dance with me,” she said. It didn’t sound like a question.

  Charlotte was normally a gentle, peaceful person, but right now she wanted to scratch out the woman’s eyes and make her eat them.

  Jason backed away and moved to stand next to Charlotte, sliding his arm around her waist. “Sorry,” he said, “I’m with my girlfriend.”

  A flutter shimmied up Charlotte’s spine. She had to stop herself from leaning against him and gazing up at him with a sigh. Girlfriend.

  The woman looked her up and down. “Her? No wonder you’re sorry.”

  Jason looked furious and for a moment Charlotte thought he was going to say something. But then he turned his back on the barely dressed woman, took their drinks from the bar, and guided Charlotte away.

  They found a vacant table and sat beside each other. After a few seconds of silence, Charlotte gave voice to her thoughts.

  “What a bitch.”

  He burst into laughter, slid his arm around her shoulder and kissed her cheek. “I couldn’t have said it better myself.”

  The almost naked woman wasn’t the first to hit on Jason, despite the fact that he was very attentive to her and they were obviously together. Charlotte assumed they just thought he was out with his dull sister.

  His response to each woman was the same, sliding his arm around her and telling them he was with her. It set her heart racing every time, to the point where she was actually looking forward to it happening.

  “Stop everything! It’s well known that the singer always gets the hottest girls. So what are you doing with this loser?”

  The gig was over and they were backstage, which in the small club meant a magnolia dressing room sparsely furnished with a mirror, a small table, two wooden chairs and a sofa with some suspicious looking stains. Charlotte watched, astounded, as the drop dead gorgeous lead singer of Brakedown approached her and held out his hand with a smile. When she took it, he rapidly turned her hand over and brought it to his lips, pressing a kiss onto the back.

  “I’m Sam,” he said, winking.

  She couldn’t help smiling. “Charlotte.”

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Charlotte,” he said, still holding onto her hand.

  Jason slid his arm around her waist while extricating her hand from Sam’s. “Sorry, Sam, but Charlie has standards.”

  “What’s she doing with you then?”

  “Ahaha. Charlie, that’s Johnny.” He indicated a man with a goatee and his afro hair in a ponytail who waved at her while chugging back a litre bottle of spring water. Charlotte recognised him as the drummer. “Eric and Frank.” The guitarist and bass player, blond identical twins, both raised their hands at the same time and she had to stop herself from laughing. “And you’ve had the misfortune to meet Sam already.”

  “I really enjoyed your music,” she said, and meant it. She’d even danced. She finally understood why people came to these places. “I can’t wait for when you’re wildly famous and I can boast to people that I met you.”

  Johnny pointed at her with the almost empty plastic bottle. “You have excellent taste.”

  “Would you like a CD?” one of the twins said. She was almost certain it was Eric. Although there was a chance it could have been Frank. He rummaged in a bag, pulling out a cardboard sleeved CD.

  “Oh, yes, please,” she said, smiling. “Would it be too much to ask for you all to sign it?”

  Frank (or Eric) pressed a hand to his heart, smiling. “A pretty girl wants my autograph. This is exactly why I joined a
band.”

  Charlotte giggled as the CD was passed around.

  “You see, Sam,” Johnny said. “We can give them away.”

  Sam shook his head and handed her the CD, his fingers brushing against hers as he smiled at her. Jason’s arm tightened around her, pulling her so close against his side they were almost melding.

  “Don’t disillusion her,” Sam said. “She thinks we’re good.”

  Charlotte laughed. “You are good.”

  “I like you a lot,” Sam said, smiling, his gaze lingering on hers.

  “Do we have any t-shirts left?” Frank (probably) said.

  Eric returned to the bag.

  “Rob couldn’t make it?” Johnny said. “Oh, I suppose he’s home taking care of...”

  “No,” Jason said. “He couldn’t make it. But he said he’d come next time.”

  Eric pulled out a plastic wrapped t-shirt. “Thanks in advance for wearing it,” he said, handing it to her. “We wear them, but it’ll get so much more attention if someone who looks like you does.”

  Charlotte blushed, taking the package. She hadn’t had so many compliments since, well, forever. “Thank you,” she said, her voice soft.

  “Well,” Jason said loudly, “we’d better get going. Great gig, guys.”

  “It was nice to meet you all,” Charlotte said as he steered her towards the door. “And thanks for the CD and t-shirt.”

  Sam caught up with them in the hallway outside the door.

  “Can I ask,” he said, “are you two...?” He raised his eyebrows.

  Jason draped his arm around her shoulders, frowning. “What does it look like?”

  Charlotte looked up at him, her heart flipping.

  Sam held his hands up in mock surrender. “Okay. No need to get all possessive.” He leaned forward to whisper loudly into her ear. “But when you dump him, and you will because he has an obnoxious personality and is as immature as he was when we first met when we were eight, give me a call.”

  Uncertain if he was joking or not, Charlotte smiled and said nothing. Sam winked at her, clapped Jason on the shoulder, and returned to the dressing room.