Page 4

Charlie

“Jesus Christ,” Jake groans, slamming his hand down on the card table set in the middle of Star and Bruno’s apartment.

“And that’s four for me,” Star cheers, throwing back the rest of her beer and sliding the money in the center of the table toward herself.

I toss my hand down on top of Jake’s. I don’t know why I even come to these games. I’ve never been good at poker. Star, on the other hand, is so good she even has one of those ugly ass hats that professionals wear.

“If I didn’t think Bruno would beat my ass, I’d say you were a cheat.”

Bruno scoffs. “Fuck that. She would beat your ass.”

I chuckle, finishing the rest of my beer, wincing as the room-temperature liquid slides down my throat. Star yawns and I check my watch. It’s half past midnight and I know both she and Bruno need to be at work early the next day to open up. Star’s one of our two, head chefs at Lafayette’s— the restaurant owned by my family, and Bruno’s her sous chef.

Rising from the chair, I stretch, the muscles of my back cracking from sitting still so long.

“Time for me to head out,” I murmur, slipping my phone into my pocket.

“Me too,” Jake yawns, standing and brushing his dark curls back.

Bruno sees us out and we make our way down the metal staircase outside their apartment to the parking lot below. Star and Bruno live out of the Quarter, in Iberville, so it’s quieter than I’m used to. I live in the heart of the Quarter, in half a house Dad bought when he was my age. Real estate was a lot cheaper in the Quarter almost thirty years ago. Now, you wouldn’t touch a place like mine for under eight hundred thousand.

“How’s Andi with the wedding planning?” Jake asks as we head to our cars.

“I thought it would be bad and honestly, I was right,” I murmur, stopping by my truck and leaning back against the hood. Jake winces and then rubs his face. The deep bags under his eyes tell me he hasn’t been sleeping well.

“You should have known she’d be like that. Girl has every second of her day planned out. All chicks are like that for their weddings.”

“Why do you think I’ll never get married?”

Why anyone thinks they need to get married is beyond me. It’s a trap to make you spend more money and settle with the same person for the rest of your life. I’ve never met a woman I can’t live without and I don’t intend to. People are disappointing and I don’t fall far from that spectrum. If I met one, she would hate me in a couple weeks.

“I don’t know how she does it. It’s constant. Flowers, dresses, catering. It’s all she talks about anymore.”

“Don’t forget going to classes,” Jake adds. “I swear, that girl loves school.”

Andi recently decided to go back to school for “interior decorating”, leaving her little time for much else with planning her and Tom’s wedding. I’ve barely seen her since Christmas and it’s the end of May.

“She needs an assistant.”

“She won’t do it,” Jake quips, making me laugh.

“Yeah, she would say they’re lazy or rude. Meanwhile, whichever poor girl she hired would just be trying to acclimate to doing fifteen different tasks at once.”

Jake chuckles, kicking the tire of my truck. “Well, thank fuck Bailey’s coming down to take some of the edge off. She’s probably one of the only women that can stand Andi right now.”

My stomach falls to my dick and my breath catches painfully. Are you fucking kidding me?

“Why?” I snap, harsher than I mean to. “How the fuck do you know that?”

Jake shrugs. “I don’t fucking know. Andi said she asked her when I was in the bar today. Said she had to get your house ready for her. ”

I grit my teeth. My fucking house? “And when was Andi going to tell me? She just going to let her show up? Let me shoot her because I thought someone broke in next door?”

The house I live in is split into two halves. Mine being first and the other being an exact replica, save for the girly decorations my sister added. It sits empty a lot of the time, but Dad likes to rent it out for travelers or Mardi Gras.

And I guess now, little annoying, blonde brats.

Jake throws his hands in the air. “Hey, man. Don’t shoot the messenger. I don’t care if it gets me out of the line of fire.”

“She’s spoiled. I’m not taking care of her.”

“She’s a rich kid. What do you expect? Isn’t Andi kind of the same?” Jake snickers.

“True, but Andi knows her place. She doesn’t go snooping where she’s not wanted.”

“Wrong,” Jake points out. “She’s just not as up front about it as Bailey. Why do you hate Bailey so much? I would have thought she would be right up your alley.”

He’s not wrong. In fact, Bailey would be perfect, if she didn’t speak.

“She’s annoying,” I grumble, trying to remember the last time I saw her. Mom’s funeral. She brought that little prick she was engaged to. I haven’t heard anything about it, but no doubt they’re married, now. “You know, it must be nice to not have to worry about a schedule.”

If I could just up and leave home for five weeks, I would gladly take that vacation, but I have a business to run and responsibilities.

Jake shrugs. “I don’t know. I think Andi’s just trying to get her away from California for a while.”

“Well, could she do it at her own expense?”

My phone goes off and I reach into my back pocket to check it. It’s a reminder that I have practice tomorrow. Since Mom died, I’ve taken up boxing in my free time. Just something to keep me in shape and help me let go of some of my pent-up frustration. When I first stumbled into the gym, I was a drunk. I was weak. The guys there kicked my ass until I started training. Now, I’m one of the best the gym has.

“You training in the morning.”

I rub my eyes, suddenly tired. I know I won’t sleep, though. I’m too pissed off over sharing four walls with Andi’s little best friend for the next five weeks.

“Yeah. I should probably get going.”

“How is that?” Jake asks, pointing at the almost non-existent bruise on my cheek from when I allowed Sam, my trainer, to get a punch in the other day.

“Fine. Big fight coming up in a couple weeks,” I say. “You know, you can still get in on it, if you need some cash?”

Jake shakes his head. “No. Not for me. They’ll probably put me up against you in some sort of new-guy hazing. I don’t want to get my ass kicked.”

“I’d only knock you out the first time.”

Jake’s eyes flash briefly before he gets the joke and chuckles. “Let’s just say that you did and leave it at that.” He starts walking to his car. “Hell, you can even tell everyone you won.”

Practice, this morning was rough as hell. With the heat outside coasting toward the nineties, the small metal building MMA training is held in might as well be a sauna. Full of sweat-soaked men fighting each other, it’s even hotter inside. I ran through the punches, the kicks, blocking Sam, barely thinking of what I was doing.

No. I have something else on my mind and it starts and ends with the little blonde that would soon be sharing a wall with me. Why couldn’t Andi become friends with someone who wasn’t so fucking exhausting? My mind doesn’t know whether to focus on the perfect ass or the faux sweet attitude. It’s like staring into the sun for too long. It’s pretty, but it’s still trying to kill you.

After practice, I shower at the gym and head over to Mawmaw’s house to take her to brunch. It’s our weekly tradition since I started going to the gym. Mom’s mom doesn’t have much family, save for Andi and I, and Andi’s always busy. I take her to brunch and whatever errands she needs to run. Today, it’s getting her hair done. Later, we find ourselves at a table in Mawmaw’s favorite little restaurant — some French place I can’t pronounce. It’s laden with old ladies, gossiping about their friends and staring at me like I’m some kind of anomaly.

One woman, around Mawmaw’s age, approaches us while we’re eating the sandwiches we ordered and asks me if I’d like her grand-daughter’s number. I decline. I try not to talk about getting laid in front of my Mawmaw. Something about it just seems weird, you know? And disrespectful.

But, to my dismay, Mawmaw chastises me as soon as the woman walks away. “Charles, when are you ever going to settle down with a nice girl?”

I grit my teeth, taking my time to chew on the egg and ham sandwich, called a Croque Madame . One of Mawmaw’s favorites, but also one of Mom’s.

“I don’t need to, Mawmaw.” I shake my head, wiping my mouth on my napkin and taking a drink of sweet tea.

“Oh, nonsense. You can’t be alone forever.”

Ouch . I chuckle, and rub at the heat grazing up the back of my neck.

“If I settled down, it would just take my time away from you.”

Mawmaw seems to regard this with great thought. “Well, I suppose you’re right, but if you found a good one, she could come with us.”

Bullshit. What woman in their twenties would willingly come to a brunch with me and my grandmother? Not any that I know of.

“As long as you don’t go with that white-haired girl, again.”

Priscilla. Mawmaw hated her and I think Priscilla felt the feelings were mutual. It was one of our deciding factors for splitting. She hated every one of my family members in her own special way. None of them like her, even to this day. Andi begged me to end things, I can’t tell you how many times, but I stuck with it because that’s the type of man I was when Mom was sick. Priscilla was the only thing that made me feel like a human being during that time and not just some hollow shell, caring for his mother.

“Now, why not, Mawmaw?” I ask, already knowing the answer. Or, so I thought.

“You were angriest with her.”

My gut clenches.

“That wasn’t her fault.” That’s a lie. Some of it was. When I caught her cheating with that rich prick, I spent the weekend in jail.

Mawmaw shakes her head. “There was something about that girl that was off. She was a mean little thing.”

Mawmaw looks down at her plate, troubled. Sighing, I reach across the table and place my hand over hers, earning a smile. “Don’t worry. Mawmaw. I’ve sworn off blondes for the rest of my life.”