Into the Darkness

I sat at my desk and started thinking about what Nikki said; seven years seemed like a lifetime. I did a mental calculation of the years in my head. I couldn’t believe how long it had been since we first met in college. Nikki and I were

designated roommates. Both of us where studying law which was probably why they dumped us together. The only problem was that Nikki was a bitch, the mean-girl type, the type that made your life a living hell. She thought she ruled the world, gave no one the time of day except for her college boyfriend, Rockford Romano. Rocky was a burly Italian guy, huge muscles, and he was the quarterback on the college football team. Women wanted him and men wanted to be him, but students were generally scared of him. There were rumors that he was part of the Mafia but in truth he was nothing but a pussycat, the kindest, sweetest guy you could ever meet who worshipped the ground Nikki walked on. She was hot. I mean, she put the Victoria’s Secret models to shame. Her long lean legs made her supermodel tall and her body was toned as a result of the Pilates she did every day in our dorm room.

Despite her being a total glamour-puss, she still remained the campus bitch. If you had a pair of tits and a vagina, she watched you like a hawk around her man. At a drunken frat party one night, someone called her a cow. That’s how they got the nickname Rocky and Bullwinkle. I just shortened it to Bull’s and called her that ever since.

One night during the end of our first year I found her lying on the bathroom floor, sobbing, surrounded by pregnancy tests. I was there to console her. She needed a friend, but that night we became more like sisters than friends. I did everything I could at the time to support Rocky and Bull’s during the pregnancy, mainly covering Bull’s shifts at the local pizza joint when she was too tired to work.

On August 8, 2006, they welcomed William Nicholas Romano into the world at exactly eleven thirty-four PM. I watched him being placed straight away onto his mother’s chest and there wasn’t a dry eye in the room. I still remember the moment Rocky handed him to me and I held my godson for the first time. Leaning down, I placed a soft kiss on his wrinkly forehead and inhaled his baby scent. I fell in love with that boy the moment I laid eyes on him but holding him, that broke me, in a good way. There was this unconditional love for him that I couldn’t explain and it has only grown since.

The first two years were a struggle for them as they juggled studying and raising a child. I helped out whenever I could and thanked the lord when we graduated. There is nothing more satisfying than throwing your graduation cap into the air, as cliché as it sounds. It was the beginning of a new life, and I had waited and worked so hard for this day to come. Afterward, we all decided to move to New York City to try and make something of ourselves. Rocky was fortunate to have had a contact in the media industry and got a job almost immediately as a sports commentator. He could talk a glass eye to sleep about sports, something I had grown accustomed to. You know what they say: “If you can’t beat them, join them.” Okay, so it kind of helped that all athletes were hot. It became more of a perv-fest for me than actually following the games.

Bull’s and I both found jobs at separate firms. The first year was grueling and I had questioned my decision several times, but somewhere along the way I realized I was making a difference. I loved everything about being a lawyer except for my seedy boss. I ignored his inappropriate comments about my attire and the way he said my hair smelled good when I walked past him. It was all kinds of wrong and it made me uncomfortable. Fortunately enough, a solution presented itself late one Sunday afternoon in Central Park.

“Will called his nanny Mommy the other day.” Bull’s spoke softly as she watched Will play in the sandpit with the other children. “Charlie, I can’t do this anymore, work twelve-hour days and never see my son.”

This is how Mason & Romano was born. We opened with a small client base and as we grew, we both hired personal assistants: Eric and Emma. Business was booming; we even hired another lawyer, Michael, and extra interns to run the office. Clients were scheduled back-to-back. I thrived under the pressure. Like I said, I was a passionate about my job.

“Charlotte Olivia Mason. Are you daydreaming about your hot boyfriend again?” Eric’s voice interrupted my thoughts as he walked into my office.

Damn, I should have been daydreaming about that.

“No, sorry,” I mumbled.

“Okay, but seriously were you daydreaming about Julian? It’s impossible not to.”

Julian and I had been seeing each other for about two months, and here’s the thing: he looked just like Christian Bale, hot in all forms of hotness, and so I was dating Batman. We met at our local gym where I would check him out—okay, I would eye-fuck him from the treadmill every day—and he would politely smile back. I wasn’t shy around men but being drenched in sweat dampened my confidence. One night he walked over to me as I was lifting weights. His dashing Hollywood smile and handsome face caught me off guard and I nearly dropped the weights (and my pants) in a panic. He was quick to grab the bar and I embarrassingly word-vomited something about wiping my sweat from the bench before he used it. He laughed, this beautiful laugh. I could do nothing but laugh along with him, at myself. What else is a girl to do in a situation like that?

“Okay, you’re doing it again. Charlie, snap out of it. Unless of course you’re thinking about his wang. In that case, do share,” he snickered.

“Eric, I am not talking about Julian’s wang with you and I can’t believe we’re back to using the word wang.”

“Weiner, Johnson, Pecker, Bratwurst, One-eyed monster, Baloney pony...”

“STOP! Your penis slang is unsettling. Baloney pony? Seriously Eric, when have you ever said to someone, ‘Hey gorgeous, take off your pants and show me your Baloney pony.’ Who says that?”

“Um, no one. Errrr, do you ask a guy to take off his pants? Where’s the dominatrix woman I had you pegged for?”

“Okay, enough pecker-weiner talk. I’ve got an appointment in fifteen minutes. Now what else is on the agenda today?”

…

The day flew by and before I knew it, it was just after six. The office deserted, I was buried under a mountain of paperwork. It was now or never. I started going through the papers until my cell rang, startling me. As the name Batman flashed across my screen, I caught myself grinning before I answered.

“Hey Gorgeous,” he greeted me in what could only be described as his sex voice. It did all kinds of crazy things to my lady parts. Why wasn’t I at home so we could have phone sex or something?

“Hello yourself, is this an early night booty call?” I teased.

“Mmm…don’t let me think about your booty, I’m in a conference room waiting for the senator to arrive.”

“Well in that case have you thought about my tits as well? They are very happy in that black lacy number you like.”

“You’re evil, you know that?”

“Batman calling me evil? How predictable.”

“I think I need to take you down to the Batcave, show you what Batman’s really into.”

“Okay, but if any real bats fly at me, you can kiss your naughty rendezvous goodbye.”