Chapter 2
Fiona
I was only slightly surprised that Charlie’s brother showed up at my apartment. When he passed me his license, they had the same last name, plus, I had already seen the name Bash embroidered on his chest. Not to mention their features were amazingly similar.
Bash and Charlie both had tan skin and sandy blonde hair. The only major difference was their eyes. Charlie’s eyes were a clear blue, almost like the sky, whereas Bash’s were dark blue, flashing to an inky navy color depending on his expression.
As soon as I let him in, I understood why Charlie was hesitant to ask him for help.
He radiated intensity. He was well over six feet, dwarfing me to the point that I got dizzy looking up to try to make eye contact.
When he stood in the center of my apartment, it was like all the air was taken up.
He looked so gigantic among my tiny furnishings.
There was something wild and untamed about him, like he was barely keeping a part of himself leashed at that moment. Flustered by his presence, I clumsily tried to explain how Charlie had wound up at my apartment.
I chewed my lip nervously as he stared at me with an intense focus that had me feeling like a bug under a microscope. The spell was broken when he finally dipped around me to check on his sister.
Any concerns I had flew out the window as soon as he saw Charlie. His whole demeanor changed, his emotions so clearly written on his face. His initial relief was quickly replaced with concern, then anger.
It was evident how much he cared for his sister, and part of me was jealous that she had someone so concerned for her that he tracked her down in the middle of the night.
I was further impressed when he thanked me for taking care of her.
He surprised us both when he offered to stay and wait for a car rather than leaving to get it himself.
Typically, I was not the most comfortable around people, whether I knew them or not.
I’d never been the most socially fluent.
I didn’t know if it was the late hour or the collision of strange events, but somehow, I found myself standing in the kitchen with a strange man in the middle of the night, completely at ease.
When the car arrived, he carried Charlie down the stairs like she weighed nothing. I watched as he carefully put her in the car, somehow managing to communicate with the driver with a single look.
After he walked me back up to my apartment, I locked up, but couldn’t bring myself to move. I stood at the door, waiting to hear his heavy boots on the stairs. I couldn’t hear anything, and wondered if he had somehow snuck down.
As I was about to turn away from the door, I finally heard him stomping down the stairs. I jumped at the sound of the first thud. My heart was racing, and I tried to blame it on the scare rather than Bash’s presence.
I slept on the couch for the rest of the night, then woke up and stripped the bed before going down to put laundry in. Any remnants of my Friday night rinsed away with that first wash.
After my wild Friday night, the rest of my weekend was blissfully uneventful.
I mostly stayed in, spending the weekend doing chores and reading, eventually popping out for some grocery shopping.
When Monday came around, I had almost managed to forget about Bash and Charlie.
The whole night seemed like a bit of a fever dream.
I guess that was technically my first time picking someone up at a bar, I thought, giggling to myself.
By noon, it was just another day in the boring life of Fiona Anderson.
By 9 a.m., I was neck-deep in emails sorting out my tasks for the day.
From there, I was swept away in the familiar monotony of my job.
I ate my lunch at my desk, absorbed in a spreadsheet I was working on—that was where I thrived, where I could tune everything out, shut all those pesky emotion-based thoughts off, and just use the analytical side.
The week passed in a similar pattern until I was firmly grounded in my standard schedule.
No obligatory outings, no surprise guests.
Just a regular old work week. On Friday, I left the office after 6 p.m., and by the time I got to my apartment building, I was talking myself into ordering a pizza rather than cooking.
I felt I had earned a reward for such a busy week.
Or at least, that was the rationale I was using to try to ease the guilt of ordering out.
As a child, takeout was both a blessing and a curse.
At times, it was a splurge I couldn’t partake in.
Other times, it was the only food I was able to get, and there were only so many buckets of fried chicken a kid could eat before needing a vegetable.
Lost in thought while putting together my order, I didn’t notice the young woman waiting outside my building.
“Fiona?” Her voice stopped me.
Looking up, I recognized Charlie, far more subdued in the waning light. She looked much younger in her casual clothes and bare face.
“Oh! Hi, Charlie. Did you leave something in my apartment?” I asked, trying to figure out what she was doing there.
“No, I’m here for you. I never got your number, and I tried to convince my brother to find it, but he refused to invade your privacy further. I begged him all week. I went back to that pub, but they didn’t have your information.” I was surprised. Her face turned slightly pink as she continued.
“I finally snuck into my brother’s office and found your address. Anyway, I came by...I was hoping to catch you. Hoping we could talk, maybe?”
She seemed nervous, so vastly different from the girl I had met at the bar.
“Okay, do you want to come up? I was about to order a pizza,” I offered. She looked up, surprise clear on her face.
“Really? I would love that,” she said. I smiled.
“C’mon, then. Let’s talk about toppings and sides. You team garlic knots or mozzarella sticks?” I asked as I unlocked the front door.
“I’m starving. What if we got both? I can pay. I owe you one. Pizza doesn’t really compensate, but it’s the least I can do.”
“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” I said, feeling uncomfortable. I hadn’t helped her to get anything in return.
“Wait, that came out wrong. I’m actually here because I was hoping we could be friends. Consider pizza on me as a gesture of goodwill.”
Surprise ran through me. At twenty-five, I was woefully lacking in friends. I was taken aback by the offer and the effort Charlie had already gone to. Unlocking the door to my apartment, she followed me in. I kicked off my modest heels and hung up my well-used but warm jacket.
Charlie copied my movements before settling in on the couch. I opened the delivery app on my phone and pulled up my favorite pizza shop before passing it to her.
“Here. Why don’t you check this out while I change? I find it abhorrent to wear real clothes in my apartment unless I’m about to leave the house.”
She gave a startled laugh at my comment, but quickly started looking the menu over. I headed for my bedroom, closing the door behind me before stripping out of my clothes as fast as I could. I pulled on my favorite flannel pajama pants and soft, oversized sweatshirt.
I took the clips out of my hair and twisted it back into a simple knot. I slipped on some fuzzy socks and finally felt like I could take a breath, having fully made the transformation from work to weekend mode.
“See anything you like?” I asked as I made my way back into the living room, grabbing water from the fridge.
“I’m pretty flexible. Any toppings but mushrooms because I’m allergic.”
We settled on a large pie—half cheese, half pepperoni—with an order of mozzarella sticks and garlic knots on the side. It felt like a lot of food, but once we both started eating, we made an impressive dent pretty fast.
“Can I ask you a question?” Charlie asked after we both settled in with our plates.
“Sure.” I shrugged as I continued eating my food.
“Why did you help me that night? I don’t remember much, especially leaving the bar, but I know I wasn’t nice to you. But you helped me anyway.” She frowned, looking confused and unsure.
“It was the right thing to do,” was all I said. It was my turn to feel uncomfortable under her scrutiny.
“Not many would have. I wouldn’t have. And I hate that.
All week, I’ve been thinking about every terrible thing that could have happened.
I was so stupid, reckless. If it weren’t for you, I just…
I feel like a terrible person, and I don’t know if I like who I am anymore.
” She looked at me with tears in her eyes.
“I don’t think you’re a terrible person.
You went through the effort of tracking me down.
You’re here now. The fact that you’re upset, I think, shows you care.
If you don’t like who you are, acknowledge what you don’t like and change it.
Making a mistake is both the easiest and hardest way to get that kick in the ass to move forward,” I answered.
I knew what it was like to have mistakes guide future moves. My entire life was a result of making sure I did the opposite of every adult who played an active role in my formative years.
“Everyone treats me like a little kid. I always thought it was annoying and unfair, but now, I’m just worried they’re right.
That I need protection. I don’t know what being an adult looks like in the real world.
I don’t know what it looks like for me. I don’t know who to talk to about it, and I’m sorry for just dumping this on you, but there’s just something about you.
I trust you, and I think I envy you a little bit. ”
“Envy me?” I was shocked by the last bit.