Twelve
“And through here is our studio, where you’ll record with Theo.”
Bianca, Theo’s podcast producer—a bubbly, petite woman in her early thirties with a platinum-blond pixie cut and floral tattoo sleeves—holds open the door for Charlie, Wes, and Victoria.
The room reminds Charlie of old-school music videos where pop artists sang into microphones behind glass partitions while record producers bobbed their heads to the music.
A computer with two monitors is arranged on a desk that takes up one side of the studio, recording software open on the screen.
Behind the glass, Theo lounges in a chair. The walls are covered in cherry-red padding, and a blue neon sign hangs between the two microphones, the words male perspective glowing in cursive.
Bianca raps her knuckles on the glass before opening the door to the sound booth. Theo looks up from his phone, his attention immediately drawn to Victoria.
“V, you’ll be in there, obviously, and Wes and Charlie can hang out here with me.” She gestures to the black leather love seat against the wall of the control room.
Victoria smiles, taking in the space. She’s wearing black skinny jeans, heeled ankle boots, and a pale pink blouse, her hair falling just past her shoulders.
Her lips are painted nearly the same color red as the studio’s walls.
She looks fierce and collected. If she has any trepidation about speaking on a popular podcast, she hides it well.
Charlie envies her confidence, her ability to remain calm even in situations with which she has no experience.
“Theo,” Bianca calls. “You good to go in five?”
Theo gives a thumbs-up as Victoria enters the booth and settles into the second chair. “Now that the guest of honor has arrived, I’m ready whenever she is,” he says.
Victoria simply nods to Bianca. “I’m ready.” She flashes a reassuring smile at Charlie.
Despite not being the one speaking to thousands of listeners, Charlie’s stomach roils with nerves. She can’t help thinking that if this goes poorly, it’ll be all her fault.
Bianca shuts the door with a snap. Behind the glass, Theo says something to Victoria that Charlie can’t hear, and Victoria gives a short reply.
Bianca turns to her and Wes. “Can I get you anything to drink before we start? Water? Seltzer? Coffee?”
Charlie politely declines. Given the early start to her day, she’s already had too much coffee, and it’s not helping her nerves.
Wes, already seated on the black leather love seat, one ankle crossed over his knee, declines as well. “Thank you, Bianca.”
Bianca takes her spot at the monitor. “You’ll hear them once they begin talking, but feel free to talk to each other. You won’t be picked up by the mics.”
Charlie perches on the opposite end of the love seat.
Wes rests his chin on his palm, his other hand tapping his thigh.
Running her hands over her jeans, Charlie tries to relax.
Her thoughts, however, are consumed not only by whether the podcast episode will be a success but by the man sitting beside her, the silence pulling taut between them.
Despite the early hour, the train ride was uneventful.
Wes arrived at the station a few minutes after Victoria and Charlie, and once they were onboard, they found a group of seats together.
Charlie’s heart thumped at how handsome he looked in a navy peacoat, his hair deliciously ruffled, his smile tired, matching the dark circles under his eyes.
Victoria, large iced coffee in hand, chatted nervously about her last visit to NYC—Christmas the year before—and how nice the weather was that day, then lapsed into silence. She spent the rest of the ride typing on her laptop, a furrow of concentration between her dark brows.
Wes opened his LSAT prep book shortly after, but he never once flipped the page, an observation Charlie would rather take to her grave than point out. He doesn’t need to know she was watching him out of the corner of her eye while she made her own poor attempt at studying.
When they arrived at Moynihan, Wes expertly navigated them through the hoard of commuters, easily flagging down a taxi once they stepped onto the street.
Charlie gaped at the massive buildings towering over her, the throngs of people brushing past on their way to work, the incessant honking of traffic.
She stared out the window the entire ride, her astonishment reflected back at her through the glass.
“You’ve never been here before,” Wes stated just before they arrived at the studio.
Charlie blinked at him, dazed. At his amused expression, she flushed. “What gave me away?”
For a moment, the tension between them broke, and he smiled. “Your childlike wonder.” He shrugged. “It’s cute.”
Her body sang at his words.
Growing up in the middle of Indiana, she hadn’t had many opportunities to visit a major city.
Indianapolis was moderately sized, but it was nothing compared to NYC.
Her elementary school had visited Chicago’s Griffin Museum of Science and Industry, but they hadn’t spent any time walking around the actual city.
By the time she’d moved to Archwood, she’d simply wanted to escape her hometown.
Observing the people striding determinedly down the sidewalk, the bikers weaving in and out of traffic, she wonders what it would be like to live here. To be one face in the crowd of many.
Five days have passed since she and Wes ran into Nash at Tom’s. She hasn’t seen or spoken to Wes again before today, but she hasn’t been able to stop thinking about his reaction. Can’t seem forget the hurt in his eyes, the vulnerability in his words.
Sitting beside him now, she feels out of her depth. She desperately wants to eradicate this unfamiliar, sullen, introspective Wes. Wants to express regret about Nash, wants to probe deeper into Wes’s wounds and make sure he’s okay.
But would he be honest? Or would he brush her off with an ironic smirk, showing just how unaffected he is? It’s not like they share the kind of relationship where she can ask probing questions anymore.
Their relationship now is tenuous and weak, built on an exchange of services, a working arrangement in the loosest sense of the word.
The time they’ve spent together recently has only reminded her how much she misses what they used to have.
It’s been all too easy to fall back into their former dynamic, bask in the familiar comfort in his presence.
Has she ever tried uncovering the layers of him before?
Behind the glass, Theo and Victoria don their headphones. Charlie fidgets on the couch, her knee bouncing with apprehension.
A hand settles on her thigh.
She jumps.
Wes’s green eyes pierce hers. “Rogers, I need to—”
“Hello, hello, hello!” Theo’s voice booms out of the speaker.
Charlie faces the studio, and Wes retracts his hand.
“Welcome to another episode of Male Perspective, where I ask the juicy questions you want answered and share all the juicy facts you’re dying to hear.
Today I have a very special guest with me, whom I’ll introduce in a moment, but first I want to thank some of our partners—”
Theo reads through the podcast’s sponsors, his voice smooth and rich. Victoria watches him, a faint smile on her lips, appearing completely at ease.
Charlie picks at her cuticles, jiggles her foot.
“Now,” Theo says after finishing the ad, “everyone listening knows I love sex. Whether it’s with men, women, or nonbinary humans, I love giving, I love receiving, I love every aspect. Any position, anytime.”
Charlie glances at Wes, catching his eye. He shrugs as if to say, Yes, I know. It’s Theo.
She clasps her hands in her lap to keep from ruining her cuticles.
“I’m all for people choosing what to do with their bodies, especially during unprecedented times such as these.
” He reads off a notecard without missing a beat.
“Today, for the first time, my guest is a board-certified OB/GYN. She’s the founder and medical director of The Wild Rue Sexual Wellness Clinic, located just outside Baltimore.
The clinic provides services that include STI testing, gender-affirming care, sexual dysfunction, and abortions for people all over the state and parts of Appalachia.
Currently, her clinic is in danger of closing due to lack of funding and being replaced by something called a crisis pregnancy center. Please welcome Dr. Victoria Angelo.”
Charlie sees Victoria visibly inhale before she fixes Theo with a beatific smile.
“Thank you, Theo. I’m thrilled to be here to take the opportunity to talk about my work and my clinic, which is incredibly important not only to me but also to the thousands of patients we see on an annual basis.”
Charlie can hear her beaming through the mic. She lets out a breath, some of the tension she’s carried since Victoria gave her the news about the sale finally ebbing.
This will work, she thinks as Victoria explains how she started The Wild Rue. This has to work.
“Hey,” Wes whispers. “You good?”
Charlie looks at him, and this time, she doesn’t fight her grin; it feels like the most natural thing in the world. She experiences a rare burst of gratitude that he’s here, that he helped facilitate this.
“I’m great.”
When he doesn’t look away, she almost forgets they’re not alone.
“So, Victoria—can I call you Victoria, or do you prefer Dr. Angelo?”
Charlie blinks, returning her attention to the other people in the room.
Victoria looks like she hosts podcasts on a daily basis. “Victoria is fine.”
“Anyone ever call you Vicky?” Theo asks.
She laughs. “Absolutely not. I’ll walk out of here if you call me that.”
Theo grins. “Well, I certainly want you to stay. Victoria, why is it so important to keep a clinic like The Wild Rue open?”
“I’d love to tell you, but first I have a question for you, Theo.”
Theo sits up straighter. “Go on. Listeners know I love talking about myself.”