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Chapter Eight - Charles
It feels awkward as he sits across from me. I don’t know if it’s because I was fucking Lillian all of last night and this morning or because Chuck and I haven’t spent any time together.
“So what have you been doing lately?” I’m really hoping he doesn’t say Lillian. I don’t particularly want to find out we are fucking the same girl. What if he starts trying to give me details?
“Working, going out with friends. Nothing new really.” He looks around the restaurant, refusing to look at me.
“How is Lillian?” Lillian hadn’t touched her phone the entire time I had been there this morning. I find it hard to believe that they are serious and he didn’t talk to her this morning. This is the man that still calls his mother every morning by twelve o’clock. I find it struggle to believe he wouldn’t call her if he was crazy about her. Which if they are dating, he would surely be. How couldn’t he be? She’s amazing.
“I saw her this morning. She is good, enjoyed the party yesterday.” He finally meets my gaze, point-blank lying to my face. I know he didn’t see her this morning. What is he doing? Why is he lying?
I take a sip of my coffee, wishing the black and bitter taste was something stronger to ease the unease running through my muscles. “Saw her this morning? You stayed the night at her place?” It’s a weird question. It’s too nosy, not something I would normally ask him, and it clearly throws him because he looks confused but still answers.
“Yeah, why?” Liar.
“Just curious to see how serious you two are. It’s been a while since you mentioned a relationship.” This couldn’t be weirder. He’s pretending to date her and I’m fucking her. Why isn’t she being upfront about it? She clearly avoided the couple times I probed her about it. This doesn’t feel right.
He rolls his eyes, almost instantly agitated. “Why does everyone care about my personal life so much? Who I date is my business and I’m sick of everyone acting otherwise.” He squares his shoulders, challenging me as he waits for me to argue with him. I’ve never been one to argue so I don’t know who he is thinking he is starting on.
“Don’t square up to me, son. That is disrespectful. When do I ever push myself into your business? I’m just concerned. I’m not getting the vibes you actually care about this girl so I’m just making sure it’s genuine. I raised you to treat girls with respect and cherish them.” He shrinks down a bit, listening to me. “Also, pick your fights better. I could squash you with one hand.” I finish the last of my coffee, pleased to see him cave and smile.
My son is very smart; I don’t claim that he gets that from me. However, he definitely didn't inherit my physique. He’s slim with no muscle tone whatsoever. He could have if he went to the gym but that has never interested him. Whereas I’ve also felt as though I had to maintain my appearance to be taken seriously so I visit the gym six days a week and pump weights every day to maintain my build. I’m not vain and I’m perfectly happy growing old, but I don’t want to become old and frail.
“I have the utmost respect for her, Dad. Don’t worry about that.” I can hear the truth in his voice which only makes the situation worse. What are they? What am I missing?
“Good. From what I saw of her, she looks like a good one.” I need to shut up. We should change the subject.
“I don’t want to lose her. She really is a good one and I don’t know what I’d do without her.” For fuck's sake.
“Good. Tell me about work; what’s your next hurdle? How are you going to go up to the next level?” It works because he begins spilling his guts about work, giving me the opportunity to try and clear the jealousy building hearing him talk about her. What the fuck have I gotten myself into?
