Charmed

“No,” I answer him honestly. I don’t know what the fuck is going on with me. All these strange feelings pumping through my body are like nothing I’ve ever felt before, and I’m pretty sure the feelings won’t calm until I have Charlie pressed against my body again.

I don’t think that will be easy. I smile. There is nothing I love more than a challenge. Particularly when it’s something I need.

Chapter Three

Charlie

I stand under the water, watching the paint swirl down the drain as it’s washed off my skin. My heart still feels like it’s pounding. I close my eyes, but all I see are Shade’s dark blue eyes. I’m still shocked that he chased me to begin with. I’m sure the man has a hundred suits and losing one won’t dent his wardrobe.

I’m guessing he was chasing me more for his pride. I can’t believe I threw my paint all over him. In my defense, he was being a jerk, manhandling me as if he had every right to. Not to mention what he said about me working off the cost of his suit. That still made my blood boil, but at the same time it turned me on.

I flip the water off and grab a towel. In my time on the streets, hopping from shelter to shelter, I never used my body to get something. I’d stolen a few times, but only out of desperation and hunger. I dry off before wrapping the towel around me.

I’m in the employees’ bathroom at the community center. I half scream when I see Mr. Barker, the owner, standing before me. I stand there for a moment in shock before making sure my towel is covering everything. His eyes roam over me.

The man has always given me the creeps, but he doesn’t pay half bad and I put up with him because I love it here. Not to mention my best friend works here and I also sneak sleep here at nights. That’s only possible because my best friend looks the other way. He is normally in charge of closing the place.

His eyes rake over my body like I’m naked. I don’t know why he’s in here. This is the women’s employee bathroom. “Mr. Barker?” I question. He licks his lips, and it takes everything in me to not take a step back.

“We need to talk.” He steps toward me. The smell of his cheap cologne fills the room. His jet-black hair, which I’m sure is dyed because he’s pushing his late fifties, is slicked back. The shirt he has on has a stain from—I’m guessing—his lunch. He locks his hands around the straps of his suspenders.

“Can we talk after I get dressed?”

“I know,” he continues, ignoring what I said. My heart pounds as I wonder what he’s talking about. Does he mean he knows about me staying here, or maybe he heard I threw paint on someone? He couldn’t know that. Not that it would matter, would it? It has to be about me staying here.

“I’m sorry. It was just a couple of nights,” I lie. It’s been a couple of months. “Please don’t fire me.” I love this job. It would be hard for me to find another one. I only have a high school diploma. I don’t think I’ll be able to get another job doing what I love. I got to teach painting classes here to the kids. I also worked in the daycare area where parents left their children while they worked out or used the pool.

He gives me a creepy smile and closes more of the distance between us. He reaches out, running his finger down my cheek. All the hair on my body stands up in fear and I’m paralyzed. This man is my boss. I can’t push him or stomp on his foot. He’d call the cops and I’d be the one in jail. No one would believe the homeless girl over him.

“You can sleep here all you like.” A chill runs down my spine. “I’ll keep an eye on you.” He leans down, his mouth moving closer to mine. I jump back, my hands in a death grip on my towel. That creepy smile he has only gets bigger. “Sleep tight tonight, Charlie.” He winks at me before turning to leave.

I rush over to my bag and get dressed as fast as I can before putting all my stuff away. I pause when I realize I don’t have my painting notebook. Tears sting my eyes, but I dash them away and slip from the bathroom. I rush toward the basement door but pause when I get to it. My cot and stuff are all down there. I’m scared to go down. What if he traps me down there? No one will hear me scream.