It would take the roast an hour to cook and she opened the wine, poured them both a glass before she began to prepare the fruit for dessert. As she placed the items in the fridge, she noticed the calendar, “Are you counting down to something special?”
“Nope, those are the number of days I have not had sex,” he said plainly as he wiped down the counters. Charlize dropped the glass bowl and began to check him for fever. “Wait, my medical bag is in the car, let me go and grab it,” she told him as he watched her with a facial expression that was less than amused. He added the pecans, sage and other ingredients into the food processor to make the pesto, now he was feeling a little insecure for sharing this with her so soon. It had only been 14 days. This wasn’t a big feat for him, but his mind was clearer. He cleaned up the glass from the floor and went over it with a Swiffer to pick up any remaining shards.
Charlize realized he was serious and apologized, “I’m sorry, I thought maybe something was wrong.”
“Something is wrong,” he said as he pulsed the processor, “it’s my personal life; right now, the only good thing in it, is you.”
“That’s really sweet, but seriously, why are you abstaining?”
“I need to know more about myself. I need some clarity. I want....”
He got quiet.
She poured more wine and waited. The years of friendship had taught her to wait for him to collect his thoughts. Working with type A males had also taught her to be quiet and not fill in the spaces with assumptions and idle chatter. He would tell her when he had gathered the right words.
“I want something very similar to what you and I have, but with benefits.” Charlize dropped the wine glass.
And that was how Grayson Broche opened the discussion to starting a relationship that included being more than just friends.
Chapter Four
“MAYBE, WE CAN HAVE the rest of the conversation over dinner,” he poured her more wine in a plastic cup. He cleaned up the second set of glass pieces from the floor, applied a new cleaning pad to the Swiffer, and went over the floor. She was still standing in the middle of the kitchen with a dumbfounded look on her face. Brows now furrowed, she tried to match together his words so they would form a logical conclusion. Her sister often joked that unless a man stood in front of her naked on the ready, she would miss all obvious clues. Concern now covered her face and she was truly worried that over all of these years, had she missed any clues or cues that Grayson had sent. Afraid to say the wrong thing, she accepted the cup and smiled, apologizing again, but saying nothing.
“Well?” Grayson asked.
Still unsure of how to answer, “I’m proud of you. It takes a great deal of courage to step back and look at the big picture.” Whew! She was proud of herself as well; that was a solid, nondescript answer. She gave him a full on toothy grin. He smiled back. Oh Fudgecake! Here it comes.
“Charlie,” he asked, “how long has it been since you were with someone?” Charlize checked on the roast and took plates out of the cabinet.
“Long enough for it to be none of your damned business,” she told him as she set the table. She began to sauté the green beans in the garlic and olive oil, making sure to keep her back to him as if it would stop the next set of questions.
“Why haven’t you dated anyone in three years, Charlie?”
She had a canned and prepared answer to the question, but now, in the back of her mind, she began to wonder if secretly, she wanted the same thing. Her mother had made the comment once that the reason he could not hold down a relationship was because he compared every woman to her. Maybe the reason she hadn’t seriously dated anyone was because she wanted what she and Grayson shared. The canned answer was all he was getting tonight.
In clear, concise language, she explained to her dear friend that dating was a cesspool of disease, filled with small minds, which were harboring small goals. He asked her about older men. Gentlemen of an elderly standing had children and grandchildren, and if the man did not have a Big Daddy complex, they were jitterbugs who wanted to recapture their youth. It irritated her beyond measure when the fathers of many of the players would come to the training camps and use their kid’s celebrity to pick up young women.
He asked her about younger men. The lads, she told him, often wanted a mama figure. There was absolutely nothing sexy about coming back to his place and his Mama reminding him to take out the trash. Grayson was laughing at the look on her face. It is even worse to go to his apartment and his roommates are having an Xbox tournament, cursing, or asking her date if he needed any help.
“Are you serious?”
“Yes, that fool actually asked Eric,” she puffed up her shoulders, “Yo Dawg, she looks like a handful, let me know if you need some help with that!” Grayson fell out laughing, she wasn’t amused. Even less amusement was applied to men in their 30s who had a little of something and considered themselves to be a commodity. It was like jockeying in line for your turn. “I am nobody’s Wednesday night. Hell, I even tried to vary which nights I have dinner with you.”
The pork roast was sliced, the green beans plated and they sat down to dinner. She quickly blessed the food and realized she was starving. Grayson added, “Cut back the garlic by half and reduce the lemon zest on the beans.” She concurred but asked what prompted him to take a break for clarity.
“Same thing really, just tired of it all,” and it had gotten old. His attempt to date an older woman was a hilarious experience. The matronly love goddess provided him with a credit card on the second date with a $1,500 a month spending limit. Charlize’s eyebrows went up. “That wasn’t the most offensive part,” he told her and she could not wait to hear the rest.
“I felt like my manhood was challenged you know, so of course, I had to show her what I was made of,” he told her with a stern look on his face. “Afterwards, when I came out of the bathroom, she had made me a sandwich with a glass of cold milk.” Charlize bit her lip to keep from laughing.
“What did you do?”
He cut into the pork and placed a small piece in his mouth, “I ate the damned sandwich and drank my milk. It does a body good you know.” She broke into laughter. “Then she patted me on the head like I had just painted her fence or something....I thought I did a good job.” He look defeated and sad-faced which made her laugh even harder.
He politely told her to shut up, “She even took back my credit card.” Charlize laughed even harder, and when she finally collected herself, she asked about younger women.
“I don’t like dating younger women,” he said. “At first,” he continued, “it was fun and exciting, like dating a teenager you can have sex with, but a conversation was out of the question.”
“Not all young women are insipid; some of them believe in something and have passions.”
“You are right,” he ate another green bean, “they are passionate about eating, shopping and screwing your brains out.”
“Isn’t that what every man wants, something young and firm to go at it all night long?”
“Hell no; the only thing I want to do all night long is sleep. Any man that tells you otherwise has something to prove or is compensating a bit; besides, I like sleep, it doesn’t require any effort.”
She asked him about women that were of the same age as them, he frowned with malice as if something odiferous had permeated his nostrils, “Those women are nesters and are nuts!”
Grayson poured them more wine while he explained that he stopped bringing them to his place. “After two dates and a sleepover, little items are left behind.” He shuddered, “One lady even put a box of tampons in my bathroom under the sink.” Charlize nodded as if in agreement. He didn’t understand.
“The first thing a woman does when she comes over, is check under the sink to see if there are any signs of another hen in the house.” Charlize gathered their plates, rinsed and loaded the dishwasher and brought dessert to the table. “Thank you,” he mumbled and she knew there was a bigger question hidi
ng behind this new evening of sharing. Finally she’d had enough, “Stop beating around the bush Grayson, what is it you want to know?”
His eyes were wide, yet focused on her face. “I know what I want, I just am not sure of how to ask and what terms to set.”
The whole thing was making her uncomfortable, “Don’t you negotiate contracts and terms for a living? Simply say what is on your mind and ask me the question about what you want to know.”
He inhaled deeply, ran his hand through his disheveled hair, and thought, well here goes nothing. He took the plates from her hand before saying, “I want all of this,” he motioned at the kitchen, them clearing the table, the book she brought over, the movie that was sticking out her purse, “I want all of this but I would rather have you not sleep in the guest room, but with me.”
He smiled at her sheepishly and added, “Did you want a cup of decaf or some tea tonight?”
And that was how Grayson Broche handled asking her to share his bed.
Chapter Five
CHARLIZE PUT ON THE tea pot and skirted around her best bud to remove the book from her bag. Grayson stood still with his hands in his pockets and watched her with a devil-may-care attitude, head to the big chair, take a seat and prop her dainty feet up on his ottoman. He wasn’t sure how to feel but he was feeling some kind of way; if he had to put his finger on it, it felt pretty close to rejection.
When she finally spoke, it was about the copy of Hansel & Gretel which had been removed from her bag along with the horrible Hollywood rendition of the movie. “I thought I would read to you the fairy tale, then we watch the movie and make snarky comments.” The tea kettle began to sing which was a nice distraction for Grayson, allowing him a few minutes to pick up his hurt feelings before looking her in the face. He poured the hot water into her favorite mug, added her orange and cinnamon spiced tea bag with one teaspoon of honey and brought it to her in the chair. A weighted plop was recorded by his body on the couch after she took the tea, said thank you, and began to read from the book.
Grayson laid his hand across the pages to force her to look up, “it took a great deal of courage for me to admit what I said to you and even more courage to ask you for what I wanted,” he paused, “if you are going to reject me, please be kind enough to tell me and not dismiss me.”
Charlize politely closed the book, looked him square in the face and told him, “You are a selfish asshole.” Grayson recoiled at her words and slumped into the couch as she hit him left and right with all of the reasons why she thought so, ending with the simple statement, “I am not your bootie call!”
She was the one person he had always been able to talk to, the one person who had always listened and understood him, and now, when he needed to tell her how he felt, it all came out wrong. He rose from the couch and poured himself a stiff drink. “Obviously, my intent and my words are not matching.”
“What is your intent, since I’m here once a week, could I also service you?” He had never seen her so mad. It bothered him more than he wanted it to, even more knowing that the anger was directed at him. He had to make this right and get her to understand.
“I am abstaining because my father suggested that maybe the reason I was having so many failed relationships, was because I was comparing them to what I have with you.”
“And did your father also suggest you stick your penis in me to test out this theory?”
Grayson nearly choked, “Wow, Charlie, really?” He hated he’d opened this sweating case of dynamite and just wanted to close the lid and back away, but he couldn’t. If he did not clear the air now, it would never be the same between them. She was a critical element in his life and a center point in his world. He was going for it, “Are you mad at me for asking or are you mad because you’ve wanted the same thing?”
The air was charged, her breathing was labored, but his eyes never left hers; he waited for her answer.
“Both,” she finally replied.
He only nodded and gave her a minute to collect her thoughts, “My mother said the same thing.”
He was not going to let the earlier dig pass, “Did your mother also suggest you stick your vagina in my mouth to silence me?”
Charlize looked into her cup. She had deserved that after the penis comment. He sipped on his cognac and she her tea before she added, “We are too complicated to add that to our lives; it would potentially destroy what we have. I am mad that you want to ruin the beauty of our relationship.”
He sat his glass down and leaned forward, “And I am mad that I can’t have a relationship because I am always comparing women to you! I need to know, Charlie! I need to know if the beauty of what we share is the piece that is missing in this hole in my life.”
“Again, Grayson, you want to plug that hole, or rather my hole with your junk?”
Grayson was now angry. He was angry at her for not hearing him. He was angry at her for not understanding. He was angry at her for not readily agreeing to what he knew they both wanted. He was angry at her for realizing it may be something that neither of them needed. She rose to stand next to him but did not touch him. Charlize was careful that way, and she was careful in the way she connected with him in touch.
“I love you in a way that cannot be touched with a physical release,” she told him, “As much as I may be in need of one, I am not sure I am ready to see you naked, nor you I; it would be like seeing your sister in the buff.”
Grayson shook his head, “I have seen my sister naked and trust me, there would be no comparison to what I felt seeing her and what I feel each time you walk in my door fully clothed.”
The breath she had been preparing to inhale caught in her throat and Charlize swore she had stopped breathing. His next words took the air out of her lungs, “Kiss me and if you feel nothing, I will never bring up the subject again. We will take a few weeks away from each other, and go back to business as usual.”
“No, Grayson, to both requests,” she was eventually able to say, “Things will never go back to the way they were.”
“Then what do we do? If it is your idea to walk out of that door and out of my life after this conversation, that is simply not going to happen!” He shocked her with the amount of aggression that was in his words when he literally spat them at her.
She looked into his eyes and felt his passion. He was right. The two of them had been dancing around this subject for the past four years and it was time to either dance or take off the pretty shoes.
“There is nowhere to go but forward,” she saw him relax a bit, before she hit him with the last bit, “however.....” he turned to look at her, “I want to negotiate the terms for the contract.”
Chapter Six
GRAYSON COULDN’T BELIEVE what he was hearing. Negotiate? Terms for intimacy? The look on her face said she was serious. He sat back down and took another drink; why didn’t he just leave it alone?
“How long is your cycle?” Charlize asked.
“What cycle?”
“Most men have a cycle. How many days can you go without sex before you turn into a raging asshat?”
He laughed. Even without the calendar on the fridge he knew, “21 days is a comfort window, at 30 days, I either have to screw or kill something.”
Brow furrowed, he watched her face as she did the calculations, “So we have another week.”
“So you are saying that next week, you and I.....”
“Yes, but I am still negotiating.”
Grayson was deep in his own thoughts. After ten years he would finally be with Charlize. Would it be here, or at her place? His eyes wandered to her breast and he felt dirty for looking at her that way. Crap, he would need a week just to figure out how to put this into context. Wait, she hasn’t had any in three years, whoa...that was a great deal of pressure.
“Are you listening to me Grayson?”
He was honest with her. He shook his head slowly, “Nope, not at all.” He bent his head and started to laugh and crossed his leg at the
knee. She sat next to him.
“I want to negotiate the terms of this arrangement. If we are going to do this, I want some of the benefits as well. Right now, everything is in your favor.”
“What do you mean, in my favor? It will work out in yours too; I’m good in bed.”
She twisted her mouth in wry disbelief, “Yeah, sure, that’s why the old lady took back her credit card.” She licked her index finger and drew an imaginary line in the air, counting her score as 1.
He was not going to let that one slide, “Well I will be sure to bring my dust buster and a shoe horn.” He licked his index finger and also drew an entry on his imaginary scoreboard. She started to laugh and quickly got back to business.
In her list of needs, Charlize emphasized that the benefit plan would only be once per month, on or around the 25th. In return she wanted a few things from him, mainly, “In the next few weeks my dad is getting an award from the American Medical Association, and then we are headed to the lake for a week.” Grayson wanted to know what this had to do with him.
“I need a date for his awards dinner in New York and I need you to be my date for the weekend at the lake.” Grayson knew her sisters and her brother would be there with their children, and there would be childless Charlie. He understood that well.
“Agreed, but in return you have to attend my Aunt Lula’s 80th birthday party and the Fourth of July family picnic in Warner Robbins.” She agreed but thought about the company Christmas party and Thanksgiving at the lake, she added those into the negotiations. He added his client Christmas party and the ridiculousness of his family’s holiday festivities. Last but not least, she threw in a New Year’s celebration.
They sat and stared at each other.
He asked her, “Have we left anything out?”
“Yes,” she said, “we left out us.”
Friends with Benefits Page 2