18.
CHARLOTTE
Despite my adamancy on keeping a professional relationship with the man who was supposedly supposed to be my boss, the line began to blur.
After he took me to the rooftop, we got street food takeout and watched a movie at my apartment.
Even though we had passed the line of what was appropriate or not, I felt like a nervous teenager going on her first date.
Almost naturally without any thought, I got lost in the film and comfortable in his arms. By the time the film ended, our legs were tangled and I could feel my eyes slip into the realm of dreams as his heartbeat vibrated against my cheek.
That was our first night together. Even if this thing went nowhere, I will always remember that night.
It was perfect. Dating was hard, especially when you were looking for more than a casual relationship.
Guys either tried too hard or too little.
Mason just made it look effortless, like every other thing he did.
After that night, things changed. I tried to remain professional and aloof, but Mason took us having a private floor to ourselves to his advantage.
He'd follow me into the kitchen as I make his morning coffee and press himself against me as he peppers soft kisses along my neck.
He cheekily insists that any type of report or rundown should be given while I sit on his lap.
The heat between us had transformed into something otherworldly.
He was a temptation that was incredibly hard to resist but under my circumstances, I couldn't afford to blur that professional line, especially for Ophelia's sake.
So, I would simply push him away or give him a deadpanned stare before continuing on with my day.
Several nights had passed since our date and I wouldn't be honest if I didn't say I wasn't disappointed that he hadn't asked me out once more. All his actions clearly indicated that he was interested, but what exactly was it that he was interested in?
If I wasn't working the bar at Kyle's pub, then I was with Mason.
Somehow, it was as if I could not get enough of him.
I always had this problem where I would easily get annoyed by someone's presence if I saw them or spoke to them too often.
With Mason, it was just comfortable. Our conversations aren't forced or filled with meaningless blabber to fill the void of awkward silence. We just enjoyed each other's company.
But whatever we are wasn't made to last. Soon, Ophelia would be back and I wouldn't be standing in for her anymore. I hadn't told her everything that has gone down between Mason and I knowing she would freak out. Rightfully so, I would to if I was her.
I already knew that once she came back, I would tell Mason myself. I owed it to him to find out from me considering everything that has happened between us.
A hand slamming a pretty Benjamin Franklin bill on the bar counter snapped me from my depressing thoughts. The red strobe lights nearly blinding me as I looked up towards the man sitting on the stool across from me.
Immediately my breath catches and I could feel my chest tighten as my heart quite literally falls to the pit of my stomach.
Mason sat there, perched on the edge of the stool, in all his dark glory.
His tattooed fingers drum against the bill as he examined the bar before meeting my shell shocked expression.
His eyes widened slightly as they took in the sight of me. I tried to play off my shock and play it off as if he wasn't the man who peppered tiny kisses on my collar bone a few hours ago.
"Ophelia?"
The first thing I could think of was to come clean. Be honest about everything. I couldn't though. Not when Ophelia is still in Bali. Not when I could have more time with him, even if it's just a couple more weeks, days even.
Instead, I lied.
"What? How do you know my sister's name?"
Sort of. This was morally wrong, but in a way, for a moment, he could meet me. The real me.
His expression reminded me of when I first told him I had a twin all those weeks ago in my apartment when he found my law books. It was absolutely adorable and if it weren't for this moment, I would probable fall into a pit of laughter.
"Oh, sorry. I forgot she has a twin. I'm a friend of hers.
My name is Mason Morrentti." He reached his hand out to shake mine.
I slid my hand into his, timidly grasping it.
His eyebrows furrowed as he looked at our hands.
I pulled my hand back and clutched the nearby cleaning rag to distract myself from the sparks emitting from his touch.
"My names Charlotte. Nice to meet you. What would you like to drink?"
"Whiskey on the rocks, please." He slid the bill forward on the counter towards me. "Keep the change."
"You're drink is about $5. I'm not keeping the change." Taking the bill, I walked to the cash and punched in his order. I walked over to where he sat and placed his change in front of him.
"Keep it."
"No." I finished pouring the whiskey before placing his cup onto the bar ledge.
"Does arguing run in your family or something?"
At this, I laughed. It somewhat did. We were all a bit hard headed and persistent. Some would say a bit too much for our own good.
"Actually, yes." I shook my head, my smile dimming slightly as he cocked his head to the side examining me with his critical eyes. "Stare much?"
At this, he shook his head. His dark curls bounced with the movement. "I thought you were a lawyer."
"Not yet. Unfortunately, still a student."
"And what is, if you don't mind me asking, a law student doing working in a place like this? Why aren't you working in a firm as an intern?"
"Internships don't pay well. The wage and tips here are pretty good." I shrugged my shoulders as I continued wiping down the counters. The bar hadn't been too busy. There was the occasional client requesting a pint refill, but otherwise it remained uncharacteristically quiet.
He hummed, tracing his fingertip gently around the rim of his whiskey cup. His eyes were transfixed on the liquid amber. Mine on him.
"Hey, Char? Do you know where the receipt for the delivery is? They always forget to leave my copy." I turned in the direction of Kyle's voice as he stepped out of his office. His eyes followed as his hands flipped through the stack of papers in his hand.
If I wasn't on the verge of a heart attack, I definitely was now.
Kyle looks up from the papers quizzically.
His gaze scans behind me, stopping immediately at the muscled figure sipping whiskey.
As if preparing himself for battle, he rolls his shoulders back and straightens his stance as he pins a glare towards Mason.
I look over my shoulder to find Mason, unbothered and contentedly sipping his drink. While his face is impassive, his eyes are dark and hard.
"No, I don't know where it could be." Completely ignoring me, Kyle side steps me and makes his way to Mason. I follow with small, cautionary steps.
"I don't think we've been formally introduced. I'm Kyle." He reaches his hand outward for Mason to take.
"Mason Morrentti." Both men clasp their hands, their knuckles white from a mile away as they tried to dominate one another.
Kyle was the first to recede. Almost as if he didn't want to show a sign of weakness, he shook his hand out behind his back.
By the strength of both grips, he probably needed to get sensation back into his hand.
Mason on the other hand wrapped his around his cup before steadily bringing it to his full lips for another sip.
"How do you know Charlotte?"
"We just met. I'm a friend of Ophelia's."
"Kyle-"
"You just met? Am I suppo-"
"Kyle, office. Now." I snapped as I pulled his arm causing him to stumble a bit. "Please." My voice lowered, in a desperate whisper.
He shook off the grip I had on his arm as he stormed towards his office, slamming it forcefully behind him.
"I'm sor-" I turned, my arms crossed over my chest.
"I need to leave. It was nice to meet you, Charlotte.
" I watched as he tucked in the stool and strolled towards the exit.
I couldn't help but feel as though everything had gone wrong.
My heart clenched as I caught sight of the hefty tip he left.
I put it into my back pocket, knowing I'd find a way to give it back to him.
My hands shook as I realized a 5 minute interaction was going to cause me a lot of damage control and a lot more lying. With that in mind, I made my way to Kyle's office.