Escaping Relativity

Finding a parking spot at the uptown mall was going to be hell this time of evening. One side of The Pentagon, Washington’s newest––and hottest–– mall, had evening dining and clubs for the elite of D.C.. The open courtyard in the middle of the pentagon shaped mall was an amazing place for night concerts and upscale events. She was meeting Chad, a client, for diner, and the girls had talked about being there later, so Charlie went ahead and filled her datebook in for all of Friday night.

She only did this once every few months; just enough to keep her name out there, but not nearly enough for it to be a habit. Charlie was in her thirties, at the top of her public relations career, and getting way too old for that particular lifestyle. When she turned twenty eight, she made an executive decision over her life; she would break through the monotony of the typical party scene.

Charlie realized a long time ago there was nothing she could do to help her appearance. She would never be the ordinary, invisible young woman her parents truly wanted her to be. She didn’t fit so well into their world, so she did one hell of a job creating her own; and it had worked.

The one concession she made to her parents had been a dark blue sedan. She refused to skimp on the luxury, so it had all the bells and whistles, and she loved it. The inconspicuous nature of the car satisfied her mother, and keeping it well stocked with Charlie weapons pleased dear ole daddy. It was funny how no one ever connected the dots. Charlotte “Charlie” Williams, it was a common enough name she supposed, which was why her parents hadn’t found a need to change it in al these years; yet as a young operative, she always wondered how no one placed her with the high ranking public figure of her mother or the government kite her father was, until she finally realized; people always saw what they wanted. They rarely ever looked past the surface.

Sliding into a decently close parking space, Charlie checked all the mirrors. She even utilized the computer screen to check the extra cameras on the car to get the blind spots; and one for the undercarriage. Everything was clear.

The driver side door opened to bushes. She was conflicted for the shortest of seconds, and the crook within her won out. It was better to have cover in the event it was needed.

Shaking her head, she chuckled at her paranoia. It had been years since anything had happened. It was time to let go and enjoy an evening for a change. Chad was the typical good-time play boy, but as he got older, he had realized he needed more in his life––so he hired Charlie. The last six months had even begun to look promising as they were turning his reputation around. He’d even found a restaurant to invest in, which was why they were meeting here tonight. Stepping out of her car, Charlie double-checked the knife in her boot holster. Yup, good. She thought twice about grabbing Lady, her concealed-carry get-up-offa-me-gun. After two reaches, she left it in the inconspicuous pocket to the right of her seat. Since she could end up drinking, a six inch knife was enough.

Closing the car door, she hit the button on her key ring and locked the car, engaging the anti-theft system at the same time. Within minutes someone whistled at her from the darkness beyond the lamp four cars down. Yea, she knew. There was no helping it. Her parents were both perfect operatives, brown hair, brown or hazel eyes, average height, average weight and build, perfectly normal and forgettable people. Not Charlie. She took after her Great Uncle Charlie, her namesake, which is where Charlotte came from, but she had insisted on Charlie since she’d been old enough to talk. She was just like him from his smart mouth to his boisterous everything––he was simply much; and so was she.

Walking down the long line of cars, she knew what the cat-calls were for, and it no longer bothered her in the least. She was five foot eleven without her six inch heels. Black skinny jeans tucked into tall leather boots, a white silk top with a tuxedo cut leather jacket, and just a few pieces of jewelry that spoke volumes without screaming. Her long black hair hovered just over her curvaceous rear-end. One hundred seventy five pounds of boobs, butt, and muscle over her height looked damned good. Her eyes were a scary kind of clear blue though; nothing normal, but hey, neither was her Uncle Charlie. Their eyes were identical and so were their thin, straight noses. The only difference was their jaw-lines; where his was square and all manly, hers was slanted, leaving her with a pixie-type chin, and a face most people looked at and assumed she was a sweet, innocent, young girl.

Nope.

Not even a little bit.

There he was, Chad, her new and improved Ken-doll. She’d been working hard on his press and public image and she wanted this venture to be successful. If it was, it could mean a whole new list of clients, and great money for both of them.

Charlie was ready for some stability. This amount of money could promise that. She didn’t have “the one” yet, but it didn’t stop her from wanting to tie the knot; she was ready. She didn’t want her life to stop, and rug-rats weren’t exactly in her plan yet, but yes, she was ready for the blingy ring on the left hand, and all that came with it.

Giving him a quick wave through the glass wall, she entered the building. Confusion slapped her like a hand dipped in ice water. Some blonde skank was up under his left arm. Not that Charlie was supposed to be under his arm, but no one else was either! What in the hell was happening? He was going to ruin six months of work in one night!

Grabbing hold to him by his tie, she turned Chad around until they were just out of the vision of most of the patrons, and her body was blocking the skank’s contact with her client. “Chad? What in the hell is this? Who is this with you? What the hell is she doing under your arm? We’ve been working on this for months, and you’re going to just screw it all up over this hussy? Really?” Charlie felt her chest flush, and normally, her pale face turned red next, but she was too shocked for it to stick.

“Jim? Why is she calling you Chad? What does she mean? Who is she?” The blonde began asking him in the midst of Charlie’s barrage of questions.

Charlie’s mind was reeling, none of this made any kind of sense. The blonde was beating him with flowers she’d pulled off of one of the tables, and Charlie was done. D. O. N. E! Done! There was going to be no salvaging his name now... not without a ridiculous amount of money. They would have to bribe everyone in the restaurant to stop them from talking to the press. Not to mention the cops, if the blonde didn’t stop loosing her damned mind.

Turning around, Charlie grabbed a whiskey shooter off of the tray the waiter was carrying around. The burn was wonderful, calming something inside her which hadn’t been stilled in too long.

Apparently it was time for another, then maybe she’d get the answers she needed, even if it was at knife point. But for now, she was taking her ass to the middle courtyard to catch some fresh air and find some more whiskey.