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Charlie

Charlie Barber had to admit—he spent too much time in this theatre district bar.  It was located down the street from the rental space that housed the Rep, his little struggling theatre company.  The bar was convenient, warm, cheerful, and it meant he didn’t have to go home to his sparse apartment.  He’d once had a beautiful walk-up with his now ex-wife, but he could no longer afford such a grand space.  His company had been gutted by the time he spent on the West Coast and he was literally starting over.

Swiftie’s became Charlie’s home away from home.  He didn’t really drink or smoke much, just one, maybe two Johnny Walker’s when he stopped in.  He refused to devolve into drunken sorrow each and every evening.

His therapist thought going out after work was a step up from the isolation and crippling depression that had gripped Charlie when he arrived back East.  He drank his one—sometimes two—drinks, enjoyed talking to the bartender or waitstaff, and then went home to fall asleep on his couch in front of the quietly playing TV.

It was on such a night that he saw her for the first time.  It was raining like crazy out and Charlie was averse to going home in the mess.  He stayed longer than usual in his favorite booth by the little stage with its piano and microphone.  He once had sung a song there while members of the Rep company had watched.

He laughed to himself, thinking about it.  What a horrible time.  His divorce had been so ugly.

Taking another sip of his watery whiskey, Charlie saw that the open mic session was about to start.  He had nothing else to do, so he decided to stay.

The manager was drawing up the list of participants in the corner.  The piano player took a seat and played a couple of notes to warm up.  Charlie watched while participants and onlookers clustered around tables.  The manager added another two mics to the stage and tested each one.  Finally, he stood in front of one and announced the name of two individuals.  They stood up and consulted with the piano player, then took their places at the mic.  They sang a lively tune that Charlie didn’t know.  It was all right, for amateurs.  Charlie shrugged mentally—he was not directing anyone tonight. 

Another few singers performed—and then that’s when she came up to the mic.

Most of the participants demonstrated strong stage presence and sang confidently.  But this woman seemed different somehow.  She wore a light green dress with soft pink flowers on it, tied in the back.  Her hair was straight chestnut brown, except for a deep wave in front on one side.  Her eyes sparkled with excitement and her lips and cheeks were pink.  She was excited and nervous.  

She was also lovely.  Charlie drew in a deep breath.  He hadn’t seen such a pretty woman in a long time—or maybe he just didn’t bother to notice.

“I’m Rey Johnson,” she said softly into the mic. “And I’m here to sing Sondheim’s Being Alive.”

Charlie blinked.  That was the exact song he’d sung in this bar for his friends and co-workers.

The piano player hit the opening bars of the song.  Rey opened her mouth to sing.

Charlie’s eyebrows shot up at the sound.

It was awful.

Rey was enthusiastic, for sure, but… but… she could not sing.  Not at all.  Her voice was off-key and strained, even though she was clearly enjoying herself.

She got into the song further.  Charlie didn’t know whether to laugh, cry, or plug his ears.  He pressed his lips together to stop himself from… what?  Having a real emotional reaction, as he hadn’t in two years?  Yeah.

Rey

Rey Johnson steadied her nerves with her favorite mantra:  I can do this.  I can.  I have to do this.  I do.  She knew she was no singer.  She sounded quite horrible in her own ears.  But it was important to sing.  Out loud.  In front of people.  That much she knew.

She stepped up to the microphone and surveyed the crowd sitting around the comfortable bar.  Right in front sat a tall man, around her age, with dark wavy hair, holding a glass of whiskey in one big hand.  He watched her idly, and she looked back at him.  He nodded briefly.  He looked much too interesting for the word “handsome,” she thought.  He was mesmerizing. 

The piano player cleared his throat.

Rey dragged her attention back to her upcoming performance.  She introduced herself and nodded at the pianist.  He began to play the song she had chosen to sing.  She didn’t know much about Sondheim or the musical Company, but she loved the sentiment of the song Being Alive.  She had been alone so long, sometimes on purpose, mostly not.  Her soul craved connection.

Her new philosophy was do or do not, there is no try.  So, she did.  Rey wanted to “sound her barbaric yawp over the rooftops of the world,” as Whitman wrote.  She was so nervous that she was shaking and her palms were sweaty.  She took a breath.  It was important to her to step out of her comfort zone or she would end up staying home every evening in sweatpants and a t-shirt.  She needed to get out.  Her therapist mandated that Rey stop hiding from life.

Rey opened her mouth and sang:

Someone to hold you too close,
Someone to hurt you too deep,
Someone to sit in your chair,
To ruin your sleep.

She closed her eyes and felt the song lift her up.  She knew she didn’t sing well, but she enjoyed the feeling.  Her nerves settled.

She sang with her eyes closed at first, then heard some noises, so she opened them to look around at the audience, maybe engage with them.  A woman in the group of seats next to the stage had her hand over her mouth.  She was making strange, muffled noises.  Another group of people were muttering and whispering.  One man in a seat to the left of Rey snorted loudly.  It was laughter.  Suddenly, different groups of people started giggling and the sound spread around the room.

“Get off the stage,” one man cupped his hand and yelled.

Rey gulped hard.  Her voice trailed off while the piano continued.

The handsome man directly in front of her stared into her eyes and nodded slightly.  A nod of… encouragement?  He wasn’t laughing.  He waved his hand and mouthed the words to show Rey where she should be in the song.  He wanted her to keep singing?  People were laughing like crazy all around her, hooting and shuffling.

He stood up.  He was a lot taller than he looked sitting down and bigger, too.  He started singing the song in a rich baritone.  Rey picked up the thread of the lyric and began singing again.  The man joined her on stage and grabbed the second mic.  He had to adjust it upward while singing, but he accomplished that task with little to no effort.

As he sang with Rey, the man stared down every person in the audience, group by group.  His voice was a thousand times better than Rey’s and she followed his lead until the end of the song.  They even ended it together on the same note.  Rey smiled at this kind stranger and threw her arms around him for a warm hug.

“Thank you so much,” she muttered into his shoulder.  He had to bend down to hug her.  “I so appreciate it.”

There was an actual smattering of applause when Rey and her gentleman left the stage.

Charlie

“Let me buy you a drink,” Charlie said, out of nowhere, as he escorted the pretty woman away from the stage.  He didn’t realize he was going to say it until he did.

Rey smiled at him.  “All right.”

He walked her to the bar to buy a gin and tonic for her and another whiskey for himself.  He pulled out a bar stool and offered her a seat.

“I’m Rey Johnson.”  She held out her small hand.  Charlie’s big one engulfed it and he felt her delicate bones as he gave her hand a gentle squeeze.

“Charlie Barber,” he replied.

“I so appreciate you helping me out tonight.  I was quite scared,” she said.  “But determined.”

Charlie digested that statement.  He took a sip of his drink.  “Why determined?”

“I am, you see, someone who spends a lot of time alone,” Rey answered.  “I’ve been told to get out more.  To take risks.  I have a list.”

She fished around in her little purse and drew out a folded piece of paper.  “See?”

Charlie took it and opened it.  He read it to himself.  Talk to a neighbor.  Ask a colleague to dinner.  Friend an old acquaintance online.  Post on a social media site.  Better, post on more than one social media site.  Sing a song at open mic.  Go dancing with a friend (date?)  Try out for a community theater play.  Go ice or roller skating and ask for help from someone there.  Go backstage at a musical, sporting, or theater event and talk to someone who was involved.  Go out on a Tinder or Match.com date.  Talk to someone at a bar.  Get fixed up on a blind date.

“That’s a lot of suggestions,” Charlie said.  “Do you plan to do them all?”  He stared at the list and wondered if he should try some of these items.

“Don’t know yet.  I might.  I’m kind of seeing where it all takes me.  What do you think?  Which ones would you do?”

Charlie smiled.  “Well, some I’ve done already.”

“Such as?” Rey asked.

Charlie looked into her lively hazel eyes.  “I’ve tried out for community theater and gone backstage at a musical and theater event.  Not a sporting event, though.”

Rey’s eyes widened.  “Really?  Did you get the part?  That’s one I’m kind of interested in, but I confess I have little talent for acting or singing.”

He couldn’t disagree with her on that.  She was absolutely tone-deaf.  “I did get the part and many after that.  I’m actually the director of a theatre company housed near here.  It’s called The Rep.”

“The Rep?  As in…?” She trailed off.

“Repertory.  The Repertory Theatre Company,” he supplied.  “You could come audition with us sometime.”  He still couldn’t believe his lips were forming these words.  What was he thinking?  He couldn’t—no, wouldn’t—cast her in anything.  She wasn’t a professional actor, after all.  But her project spoke to him.

To be excited.  To try new things.  To take risks and be out there, out of a rut, out of his head.  It was enticing.  And he would enjoy watching this pretty woman run through her list.

Could she dance, he wondered?

Rey

Rey was ecstatic.  A chance meeting with someone with a theatre company.  She could cross something else off her list.  She took out a pen, scribbled her name and number on a napkin, and gave it to Charlie.

“Please let me know when I could stop by.  I would really like to try auditioning.”

Charlie pocketed the napkin.  “Are you interested in acting?”

“I don’t know yet.  I’ve never auditioned for a part before.”

“I see.  I’m at your service, then.”

Rey smiled at him and took a sip of her drink, wondering if he was at her service for other things, too.  She might like to find out what was under that basic blue button-down shirt.  His strong profile interested her—he didn’t look like a leading man-type.  Long thick dark hair framed a serious face with unusual whiskey-brown eyes.

He caught her looking and gazed straight into her eyes.  Then he broke eye contact and tipped the rest of his drink down his throat.

“May I see you home?”

Rey placed her hand on his arm.  “Yes.”

Charlie

He and Rey shared a cab.  Rey gave the driver her address, while Charlie chewed on the idea of asking to be invited into her apartment.  He was supposed to go out and meet women.  He had done so.  But the idea of sleeping with a stranger, no matter how lovely, didn’t sit well with him.  He liked to think he had made some progress after his divorce.  Or maybe it was regression.  He had sworn off sleeping with anyone in his company, but those were the people he knew best.  Other actors and theatre people might gossip about him.  He wasn’t ready for a relationship, and he wasn’t one for casual sex.  So, he did nothing.

This chance meeting seemed like the perfect opportunity to quench his desire with someone outside the close-knit theatre community.

He was no closer to a decision when the cab pulled up at Rey’s building.  Rey cleared her throat and Charlie realized that he had brooded all the way from the bar.  He had not said a word to his companion the entire time.

Rey turned to Charlie suddenly.  “I would ask you upstairs, but I don’t know you very well.  Nothing personal.  I like you, Charlie.  I just don’t know you.”

Charlie gazed at her.  He had the feeling that she was being kind to him and letting him off the hook somehow.  He narrowed his eyes.  “All right.”

Rey patted his arm.  “It’s not that I’m not attracted to you.  I mean, yes, I am.  I like talking to you, and I’m sure you’d be amazing in bed.  I would love to, under other circumstances, you know, be with you and all.  I’m just not that person…  I am trying to put myself out there but there is a limit, you know, to that kind of thing.  I’m not going to just leap into…”

Charlie started laughing.

“Uh oh,” Rey said.  “Have I said too much?  I tend to do that when I get nervous.”  Rey looked out the window and then turned back to Charlie.  “You have my number?  I want to audition.  I have this piece of writing I did, and I think it could work.  I want to try it, if you don’t mind.  Then maybe we could…” She stopped and shrugged.

Charlie couldn’t help but grin at Rey’s obvious discomfort.  She swatted him lightly.  “Stop laughing at me.”

“I’ll call you,” he rumbled, thinking about how adorable she looked when she was flustered.

Rey

What an idiot.  Rey smacked her forehead and looked into the mirror.  She had seen that Charlie was quiet and uncomfortable.  He was twisting his fingers and biting his lips.  She’d let him know she didn’t expect anything, and then the conversation had taken a weird turn.

But she hoped it was all right.  He was smiling at the end of it.

<> 

The next time Rey saw Charlie was when he opened the door to his little studio rehearsal space above a small theater.  He looked big and handsome in his conservative blue shirt and chinos.  She stepped into a sunny space with polished wood floors and big windows.

Charlie introduced her to Finn, a friendly, exuberant jokester, Poe, a sloe-eyed leading man type, Hux, a sardonic red-haired guy, and Gwen, a tall Viking-type woman.  They were all welcoming.

Charlie rubbed his hands.  “Do you have sides memorized for us to watch?”

Rey smiled.  “It’s my own piece.”

They all looked at her eagerly.

Rey stood and cleared her throat.  She closed her eyes and raised her voice as she did in public readings of her poetry.

Liar.  And when they all left, they said, you, girl, are a liar.

You are a maker of fantasy life,

Lover of all things unreal and unseen.

You, girl, take us away with you for a spell,

To a rich, dark, shadowed cave of jewels, wonders, sweet words, and soft sighs

A place we expect to live.

You, girl, are a liar.

You take us to your deep mossy woods—leave us behind on the sun-warmed ground

Sleeping, peaceful,

While you walk among your own where we cannot follow.

We are your lovers, we are yours,

But you do not care

You do not see us

Any longer. 

Liar.

Rey opened her eyes to stare at the actors.  Her eyes filled with tears suddenly when she recalled incidents that made her write the piece.  She swallowed, determined to fucking get through this damn thing.  It wasn’t nerves that made her cry—it was rage.  Her voice caught, then deepened and strengthened.

I am no liar, boys. 

I am not your mossy woods. 

I am not your tablet overflowing with promises. 

I do not provide a sweet cave of delight.

You come looking for my wonders and hope to be

Entertained by dancing girls and feasts.

You lie.

You come into my sacred home

The place of devotion and deep wisdom

And you sit judgment. 

For what reason?

You are wealthy, filled to the brim with me.

No, you are bored.

I am no liar.

Only a fool to let you in.

Rey stopped and dropped her head.  The room was silent for a startled moment.  Then, someone started to applaud.  She heard footsteps and Charlie put his arm around her.  He pulled her in for a warm hug.  The buttons on his shirt bit into her cheek.

“Incredible,” Charlie rumbled low in Rey’s ear.  “You wrote that?”

Rey lifted her head and swiped at her tears.  She couldn’t speak.

The others came up and formed a circle around her.  “Really powerful.” Gwen patted her shoulder.

Hux handed Rey a tissue and she sniffed her thanks. 

No one asked her what the poem meant or speculated about her life.  She realized they were performing artists who interpreted words through voice and body.  They didn’t need to pick something apart to appreciate it.  They made their own connection with Rey’s work.

Except for Charlie.  He watched Rey chit-chat with the actors—who offered to perform a scene for Rey.  Then she noticed him watching her enjoying the performance.  She met his eyes and he smiled.  Something had opened up inside him, and he seemed more comfortable.

After the scene, Rey thanked them all and got hugs.  Gwen wouldn’t let her go.  She looked down into Rey’s face and invited her to dinner with everyone.

Gwen glared at the lot of them.  “Don’t pretend, Hux, Finn, and Poe, that you’re not going out together to drink beer and bullshit.”  She laughed at their excuse noises.  “And I know, Charlie, you’re going to stay here and work.”

“No, I was going to ask Rey to dinner.”  Charlie gave Gwen a quelling stare.

“We can all go.  We want to get to know your beautiful Rey.” Gwen looped her arm in Rey’s.  “Come on, boys, you assholes are buying.”

Charlie

Charlie found himself sitting with Rey and the actors, eating artisan, hand-tossed, fire-roasted pizza.  He had hoped to have dinner alone with Rey.  He was sure, as sure as the pain in his own soul, that she was dealing with some scars like his.  He didn’t want to question her—no, that was a lie, he did want to question her.  But he wanted to find out if they were alike in their healing journey.  She had her list to connect with people, but Charlie found himself wondering what was behind that idea.  And he clearly couldn’t have a deeper conversation with Hux, Finn, and Poe trying to out-clown each other.

Rey showed them her list.  They all wanted to go dancing and try out for plays and sing in public.  But that was the nature of these outgoing people.  They didn’t need a list like that to work from—they were naturally ready to put themselves out there.

Back in the day, Charlie had been like them.  He’d been a stage actor who embraced everything.  Then he slipped into writing and directing and pushed his now-ex-wife out in front.  And he had lost his taste for it—for the thrill of performing.  Hell, he’d lost his taste for everything.  The thought depressed him and suddenly he needed to get away.  To drown out that familiar awful dragging feeling.

What would drown it, tamp it down, make it go away?

His gaze drifted to Rey’s chestnut brown hair, a soft wave resting on her cheek, her lively laugh, and pretty eyes.  She turned those eyes to meet his.  He hadn’t been following the conversation at all, but he smiled at her laughter.  She was enjoying herself.  That meant something to Charlie.  She had been so sad at the studio.  He smiled at her and she gazed at him for a moment, before turning back to Gwen.

Charlie was pretty sure he could get her in bed if he so desired.  He had seen that look in women’s eyes.  Whether they found his face attractive or not—debatable—but many women found his size and shape pleasing.  Rey seemed to be in that category.

He laid an arm on the back of her chair to see what she would do.  She pretended not to notice, but he saw her turn her head slightly.  Poe noticed and raised his brows.  Charlie stared at him.  Poe shrugged and looked away.

Rey leaned back.  That was all Charlie needed to know.  Whether he would take advantage of Rey’s willingness was not clear to him.

<> 

The group walked back to the studio, still talking.  They were going to do some rehearsing with Charlie for their next performance.  Rey was, of course, invited, the group said, and she looked at Charlie with an excited expression.

“Are you inviting me, too?”

He laughed at her enthusiasm.  “Absolutely.  I’ll even let you sit with me at the performance.”

Her eyes got wide.  “You don’t have to sit in the control room or something?  You don’t have to run something?”

“Nope, I watch from the audience and make notes.  Other people run lights, sound, and all that.”

They had arrived at the theater.  Rey prepared to leave and hugged all the others.  She reached out to Charlie.

“Hey, come in for a sec.”  He looked at the actors poised to enter the theater.  “Meet you upstairs.”

Charlie escorted Rey into the entryway of the theater.  “We didn’t get to talk.  I wanted to say that your piece touched us all.”  He paused and ran a hand through his hair.  “Listen, it’s not my business, but I’m going through some hard shit right now.  Sounds like you may be doing the same.  If you need to talk, I’m around.”

Rey’s expression showed him he wasn’t wrong.  She teared up again.  Charlie pulled her close to him for another hug and placed his hand on her soft hair, stroking it gently.  He realized then that he wanted Rey, but he didn’t want to hurt her or himself.   So, he simply held her while she tried not to cry.

“Fuck,” she mumbled into his shirt.  “I’m a fucking watering pot today.”

“It’s all right,” he murmured.  “I’m a fucking watering pot every day.  Whatever a watering pot is.”

Rey lifted her head.  “It’s a … person who cries a lot, I think.  My grandfather used to say it to me.  Stop being a damn watering pot, girl.”  Rey mimicked an old man’s cranky voice.  Charlie had to laugh, it was so perfect.

He found himself looking into Rey’s green hazel eyes, brightened by tears.  He saw her delicate reddened lips where she had bit them to stop crying.  She shouldn’t bite them, he thought.  I should.

Charlie bent down and touched his lips to Rey’s.  He did it gently, exploring the shape of her lips and how they met with his.  They seemed to fit with his perfectly and she slipped her arms up and around his neck.  Charlie needed to taste her, so badly.  He opened his mouth on top of hers and touched the corner of her mouth with the tip of his tongue.  Salty with tears.  Rey made a soft noise and opened her mouth under his.  Her small tongue teased his and he pulled her closer.  He couldn’t help but slide his whole tongue right in the sweet cavity of Rey’s mouth.  She returned the favor and they devoured each other.  Charlie raised his head after a moment to meet Rey’s eyes.

She smiled at him—full on.  He was lost.

Rey

Charlie touched her cheek with gentle fingers and smiled at her after kissing the living shit out of her.  She wanted to drown in him.  He murmured that he’d see her soon; then he walked upstairs.

Later that evening, Rey picked up her phone and heard Charlie’s voice saying hello to her.  She could hear a happy rumble behind his words.  He told her when to meet him at the theater for the performance.

He hesitated on the phone.  Rey waited.

“I’ve had a hard time getting back into dating since I got divorced.  I want you to know that you are the first woman I have genuinely enjoyed being with.”

Rey pondered that statement for a moment.  “Are you scared?  I mean, to date again.  To risk it after such a break up?”

“Yes, I am.  Very scared.  But I’m finally ready.”

“Have you dated since your divorce?”

“Not that much.”

Rey was quiet.  She didn’t want to be a rebound girl.

“You’re not… a rebound.”

Did he read her thoughts?  “How did you know?”

He laughed softly.  “I would ask the same question if I dated someone who had been through a divorce.  The answer is no.  I jumped into the relationship with my ex-wife.  I was blindsided and hurt pretty badly by it.  I’m much more careful now about being clear with people around me, particularly women.”

Rey digested his speech.  “I see.  I appreciate your honesty.  I’m coming off a series of bullshit relationships, so I should probably tell you my truth as well.  As you can see, I’m healing.  I’m trying to learn from my mistakes.”

Charlie’s voice was soft and deep.  He made an encouraging noise in her ear.

“I seem to choose people who want me to be a reflection of them instead of my own person. I have a career that I love, but it is a solitary endeavor. Many times, I am off in my own world, building ideas, thinking of stories, writing poems. I need mental space to do it.  I’ve come to the conclusion that men I choose want me to be at beck and call—for them.  I’m sorry, but I can’t do that all the time.  I have to be inside my head and alone to do my work.”

“Does that mean you can’t be in a relationship?”

“I don’t know. It has meant that relationships are hard.  I close myself off to work.  I have to maintain focus to do the work—that means sometimes I’m available and sometimes not.  I’ve found many individuals resent my career, as if it takes something away from them.  On top of that, I get lost inside myself and cut myself off from everyone—a situation my therapist believes is unhealthy.”

“Thus, the list.”

“Yes.”

“Hmm,” Charlie remarked.  “Sounds a lot like producing a play.   We get so wound up in it, we all forget to take breaks and our loved ones suffer until the damn thing is complete.”

“And then you start a new one.”

Charlie laughed.  “Yes.  It takes someone special to love an actor or director obsessed with a play.”

“Same for the loved ones of an author.  I tend to be more available earlier in the process of writing, but…”

“Once the deadline nears and you get rolling on it, you live and breath the thing until it’s complete.”

Rey smiled.  “You do understand.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Good to know.”

<> 

Rey sat next to Charlie during the play.  She smiled at him, while he pulled out a tiny notebook and pen.  She let him concentrate as she would want to do if she were in his position.

The play was great, amazing, funny, and deep—so well-acted by Charlie’s company.  Rey enjoyed it immensely, especially since she was beginning to count these people as friends.  At the end of the performance, Rey found herself sitting at a table at Swiftie’s, reliving every moment of the performance and laughing.

Finn jumped up and acted out a few lines that had made everyone in the theater laugh.  Then, he challenged Rey to perform Gwen’s part.

Rey demurred and said she didn’t know the lines.

Finn said, “You’re a writer.  Make them up.”

So, Rey answered Finn’s line and they volleyed back and forth until Rey couldn’t think of anything else.

She got a round of applause.  Poe called her a natural.

Gwen called above the fray, “Charlie, hire this girl.  She’s a great untapped talent.”

Charlie shook his head and smiled.  Rey grabbed his arm and said, “Do hire me. I have so little to do in my life.  I need a job desperately.”  Then she laughed.

Poe said, “Darling, you need to be on stage, desperately.”  The rest of the group made noises of agreement.

Rey ducked her head.  “You guys are making me blush.  Stop.”

Charlie put an arm around her and gave her a side hug.

<> 

Charlie

He was enchanted.  He watched her eyes dance as she smiled up at him.  He wanted her so much—tonight, in fact, if he could make it work.

Charlie waited until most of the actors had drifted away to chat at the bar or gone home.  Then he leaned in and asked Rey if she was ready to go.  Her hazel eyes searched his for signs of his intentions.  He gazed right back, showing her his desire for her.  She nodded.

Charlie hoped the nod was a yes to bringing her home with him.  He twined his fingers with hers and they left together, holding hands.  They shared a cab again, but Charlie gave the driver his address and looked at Rey for confirmation.  She smiled and nodded.  She was coming home with him.

Charlie’s nervous fingers weren’t working well.  He fumbled with his key and almost dropped it on the floor.  He heard Rey’s sweet laugh at his predicament and shook his head.

After Charlie opened the door, Rey pushed him inside and tugged him down for a kiss.  He didn’t hesitate.  He pulled her into his arms and up against his body.  His mouth found hers and their mouths clung together.

He pulled his lips off hers.  “Fuck it,” he said, and swung Rey up into his arms.

She gasped.  “Charlie.”

“Yeah?”  He carried her into his living room and sat her on his couch.  He sat down and wrapped her up in his arms.  “It’s been a while, but I think I remember how this works.”  He found her mouth again and felt her arms slip around his neck.  Her small tongue slipped out and touched his.  She crawled on his lap without breaking the kiss.

Charlie could barely help himself—he wanted to run his hands all over Rey’s body.  He touched her silky hair and slipped his hands down her neck.  She murmured against his mouth as he stroked her back and rested on her round bottom.

Rey came up for air and looked into Charlie’s eyes.  “I want this.  I want you.  I’m nervous, though.  I don’t sleep around, and I haven’t been with a man in a little while.”

Charlie nodded.  “I don’t sleep around either.  I haven’t been with anyone seriously since my divorce.”

Rey digested that statement.  “This is serious?”

“I don’t know,” he said.  “But it’s not a one-night stand or a friends with benefits situation.  We are dating each other.”

“And we’re adults who can enjoy each other’s company,” Rey finished.

“If you would like to.  I don’t plan to disappear after we make love.”

Rey held his gaze.  “Nor do I.  I really like you, Charlie Barber.”

Charlie pulled her close, so very close to him.  “I like you, too,” he said into her ear.

<> 

Charlie carried Rey into his bedroom and lay with her on his king-sized bed.  They stroked each other’s faces and touched bodies and lips together.  Slowly, gently, they undressed, feeling their way through this moment.  Charlie worshipped Rey’s beautiful body, running his hands up and down, touching her breasts, belly, and fur between her legs.  She opened them under his fingers, and he slipped into her wetness.  Rey made a soft sound.

Charlie needed to taste her.  He needed to kiss every inch of her.  His lips found her tight nipples while his fingers stroked between her legs.  Then he moved down to tease her bellybutton and nip her hipbones.  Rey twined her fingers in his hair and called his name.

He settled himself between her legs and dug his toes in the carpet at the foot of the bed.  He tasted her, opening her wet lips with his thumbs, pressing his mouth right there to lick every inch of her sweetness.

Rey’s hips moved as she sought further contact with Charlie’s mouth.  He teased her clit and was rewarded with soft sighs and moans.  He wanted to make her come with his tongue and feel her release.  He slipped one, then two fingers into her wetness.

Rey

She was close.  So close.  Charlie’s mouth was wicked and persistent; his fingers slid in and out of her, adding delicious friction.  Rey clawed the covers and let the sensations take her.  She cried out, her legs shook, and she jumped a little.  He held her down and she tried to scoot back and away.

“Oh, I can’t…” she moaned.

“I think you can,” he murmured and dipped his head to suck her wet lips back into his mouth.  He eased up toward her swollen, sensitive clit.

“I’ll die if you touch it.”  She tried to pull his head away.

“Okay,” he agreed.  “I’ll just stay down here.”  He slipped his tongue down further between her cheeks to tease her there. 

She gasped.  “That’s not what I meant.”

“Don’t like it?”  He teased her again.  Then he swept his tongue all the way up to flick her clit quickly.

“More.”

He obliged and Rey’s second orgasm was deeper and richer than the first.

Rey sat up and jumped toward Charlie with an enthusiastic hug.  He caught her and they fell on the floor by the bed.  She slithered down his body without a word and pushed as much of his dick into her mouth as she could.  He sat up on the edge of the bed and spread his long legs for her.  Rey sucked him deep and licked the sensitive underside of his big, delectable cock.  She ran her tongue gently over the head, tasting his precum, and nuzzled her nose in his soft testicles, eliciting low noises from Charlie’s throat.  She returned to sucking his dick into her mouth as far as she could.  His hands were on her head, clutching her hair and guiding her to where her mouth hit him best.  He was getting close, she could tell.  His breathing was ragged, and his hands convulsed in her hair.

He pulled out of her mouth suddenly.  “I need to be inside you, baby.  I need it.”  He jumped up and grabbed a condom.  Rey lay back on the bed while Charlie rolled it on himself.  He crawled to Rey and she nudged him over on his back.  He took her hips in both hands while she sat on him and pushed him inside her slowly all the way to the hilt.  Their bodies met.  Rey gasped.  It was a tight fit.  She felt him all the way inside her and needed a moment to adjust.  Charlie closed his eyes and his head fell back.  He groaned.  Rey took her pleasure with him, moving up and down, finding all the good places inside for his dick to go.  He held her hips and then slid his thumb around to tease Rey’s clit.  She increased her movements to fill herself up while she rocketed toward her orgasm.  She threw her head back as she came, feeling the waves course through her body as Charlie’s dick filled her and his thumb pressed her.

Charlie tossed Rey on her back and pounded into her as hard as could.  He came with a hoarse shout and collapsed on top of Rey.

She rubbed his back while he moaned softly with aftershocks.

Charlie

Charlie woke to find a sleepy, warm Rey next to him.  He hadn’t literally slept with a woman since before he and his ex broke up.  He remembered what it was like to snuggle with someone, to press himself against her, and kiss her shoulder.  Rey woke up as Charlie began to pleasure her again, stroking her wetness and pushing into her from behind.  He could not get enough.

Later, after many sweet kisses, Rey left, and Charlie headed to the theater.  The play had a matinee and he still had work to do.

He was met by an enthusiastic team, who watched him carefully for any difference in his demeanor.  Truthfully, he did feel great.  Rey had brought so much joy to him even in the short time he had known her.  It must have shone through because the actors were much more open with him than they had been.  They joked a bit more, laughed a bit louder, and connected with him.  Charlie had to wonder if he had been that much of a scrooge with them.

After the show, as they sat around at their usual place having a few drinks and giving notes, Gwen asked Charlie about Rey.

“Why didn’t she come to the show today, Charles?”

Charlie shrugged and sipped his whiskey.  “I didn’t think to ask her.”

The group gasped collectively, dramatically.

Gwen said, “Why not?”

Charlie gazed at her with an expressionless face.  Usually, that was enough to deter questions, but Hux echoed Gwen.

“She’s seen the show already,” Charlie answered, though he didn’t really know why he hadn’t asked her to the matinee.  She would have been welcome.

“Is she joining the company?” Finn asked.  “She’d be a great addition.”

“No,” Charlie replied.  “She’s not an actor.”

“But still,” Gwen said.  “She’s a natural.  And that poetry.  We could incorporate…”  The words died on her lips at Charlie’s expression.

“No.” Charlie pressed his lips together. This younger troupe of actors didn’t remember when his ex had been the main star and how he’d built the company around her.  He was never going to do that again.

Looks passed between the actors.  Charlie had no idea what was going on.

“Oops,” Finn said.  “We thought you were okay with it.”

Charlie raised his eyebrows.  “Okay with what?”

Gwen made a face.  “We thought it was a real audition.  It wasn’t?”

“I don’t understand.” Charlie looked around at the tense expressions on the actors’ faces.

Poe said, “Look, let’s just say it.  We invited Rey to join the company already, pending your approval.  We thought she was a shoo-in.  You know—because you love her.  She’s great, funny, talented.  She does well onstage in front of an audience.”

“Thought it was an audition, old man,” Hux added.  “We connect with her.  It would be so good to include her.”

Charlie slammed his hand on the table.  “She’s not an actor.  She’s a writer.  She didn’t really audition.  Fuck, what have you done?”

Gwen stared at him.  “You’re in love with her.  We thought you would be happy.”

“That you made a major decision without me?  That you went ahead and talked to someone I barely fucking know?  She can’t be a member of our company.”  Charlie got up and tossed some bills on the table.  “I have to go.”

Poe said, “We’ll take care of it, Charlie.”

“No,” he said.  “I will.”  And he walked out.

<> 

Charlie couldn’t breathe.  He couldn’t live through another nightmare of directing a woman he was involved with—only to have her leave him and his company.  Because she didn’t feel fulfilled.  Because she wanted to do something else.  Because he didn’t fucking listen when she said what she wanted.

Rey was different, he thought.  She didn’t expect to join an acting company.  Her list was merely about trying different things to push herself out there, to make friends, to connect.  Not to become a working actor.  Wasn’t it?

Charlie decided to walk to his apartment.  He took long strides, breathing in and out, trying to calm his panic.  Thing was, desperate actors tried all kinds of tricks to get a job, any job.  It wasn’t beyond the realm of possibility that Rey would pull such a stunt.

He thought back on their meeting.  She sang badly—on purpose, maybe—to attract his attention.  She might have already known about him and his company.  He jumped in and started talking to her.  Was it coincidence that one of the items on her list was to go backstage at a play and then audition?  It seemed unlikely that she just happened to meet Charlie.

Charlie knew he was being stupid and panicking about the situation.  By the time he got home, he was calmer.  His therapist would tell him to just call Rey and ask her about the situation, instead of making unfounded assumptions.  Charlie figured he would do so in the morning, and he went to bed without talking to Rey at all.

Rey

She kind of expected it.  That he would call her.  They’d spent the night together, after all.  Yes, he’d had a performance to oversee that afternoon, but still. 

She wondered if she should have called him—or invited herself to see the show again.  She had imagined that he would invite her himself, but then she realized he was working and needed to focus.  She had seen the show already.  There was no reason to go.  But still… still… it would be nice to be asked.

Rey sighed.  Was this another guy who didn’t think of her?  Who wanted to be with her when he wasn’t busy?  When it was convenient…

She found herself waiting for a call.  She checked her phone repeatedly, noting the time.  The play was about to start—Charlie was focused on prep.  The play was going on—he was in the audience making notes.  The play was over—he was still at the studio tying up loose ends.  The play was over—they were all talking about it at the bar.  Maybe he was walking home to get some exercise.  Rey plugged her phone in to keep it at maximum charge.

She fell asleep on the couch and woke up at three in the morning.  Charlie was not going to call.

Sick with disappointment and mad at herself for caring, Rey stumbled into her bed.  She would let him go, if she had to.  She would not put herself through another careless relationship, where she waited and lost her focus.  Even the great sex wasn’t worth it.

Rey’s phone rang and woke her up.  She had slept rather poorly.  She mumbled a hello.  It was Gwen.

“Can you come to the studio soon?  Charlie’s not here yet, and we all want to talk to you.  It would be best if he wasn’t around.”

Rey sat straight up.  “What’s this about?”

“Just hurry.  I’m sending Finn over to keep Charles occupied, so we can all talk.”

Rey ripped through a shower and stuffed in a slice of toast as fast as she could.  She grabbed a cab to the district and hit the door of the studio in record time.

Gwen was waiting with the others.  “So, what happened last night?” she whispered, even though no one was around. “Are you okay?  We weren’t sure whether to call or not.”

Poe put his arm around Rey.  “Look, if you need anything, we’re totally here for you.”

Rey stared at them.  “What are you talking about?  Charlie never called me last night.  Was he supposed to?”

Her friends exchanged glances.

“Uh, yes,” Hux said.  “He…” 

Finn strode in suddenly, waving his arms.  “I couldn’t…”

Charlie pushed him aside.  “What the fuck is going on?”  He stared at the actors and Rey.

Rey didn’t move.  Charlie’s face reflected a deep anger that she hadn’t seen before.  It was weird.

He gazed at her.  “Get out,” he growled.

Rey blanched.  Her eyes filled with tears quite suddenly.  “Fuck you, asshole,” she hissed at Charlie.  She stormed out past him and slammed the door behind her.

Rey had never run downstairs so fast in her life.  She almost fell at the bottom.  Someone was calling her name, but she didn’t stop.  A cab stood outside.  Rey hailed it and opened the door.  A pair of hands stopped her.

“Let me the fuck go,” she said, fighting with elbows flying.  Whoever it was let go and Rey slid into the cab.  “Chandrila University.”  She didn’t bother to look back.

<> 

Rey wasn’t really prepared to go to her office, but she didn’t want to go home, either.  She thought the soothing calm of her hideaway might help.

She used her key for the elevator and stomped down the hall to a group of offices tucked away in the back.  Hers was the last one.  She let herself in, shut the door, and booted up her desktop.  Her chair squeaked as she rocked herself.

The actors had asked her to join them, which was a sweet and generous request.  She would do it in an instant to have them as her friends, her community.  It would be so fun to try acting—to move physically in a world of words.  She usually inhabited her brain and thoughts, instead of her body.  The voice and movement would enhance what she did, and Gwen said that they could incorporate Rey’s work into some of the productions.  Rey was game to try collaborating on an original play as well.  She was all in.

Somehow, it all fell apart.  Gwen said they would be checking with Charlie about Rey’s participation.  Clearly, something had gone horribly wrong.

Rey sighed.  She didn’t usually run away from problems like that.  Her therapist wouldn’t be thrilled by that decision.  Rey spent too much time hiding, writing out fantasies, creating and solving characters’ problems, writing feelings and images that had no impact in the real world.  That was nice, her therapist said, but not really helpful.

Rey didn’t like the real world at the moment.  It meant that another man found her annoying and didn’t like her—or wanted some version of her that wasn’t real.  It wasn’t easy for her to connect and it seemed to end badly every time.

She put her head in her hands and sighed.  She poked around on the computer for a moment.  Her phone rang but dropped out.  It never worked well this far back in the building.  Half the time, she got no reception.

Rey stared at the offending object that kept trying to buzz.  Her therapist would tell her to call Charlie and find out what was going on.  Why had he told her to get out?  She pressed his number and watched her phone try to make the call.  It dropped, along with Rey’s spirits. She decided not to dial again.

A knock on her door scared the shit out of Rey.  She never had visitors here—few people knew she was in this office.  She didn’t teach, so she had no students.  She only came here to work and break up the monotony of being at home.

Rey opened the door.  Charlie Barber stood, looking at her, hair ruffled.  He raked it back with one big hand.  “It took me a while to find you.  This office is well hidden.”

“What do you want?”

“For my troupe to get the fuck out the studio while I talked to you,” he said.

“You looked at me when you said it.”

He leaned an elbow on the door jam and rubbed his eyes.  “Yeah, I realized that after they told me I was making eye contact with you.”

“I will ask you again.  What do you want?”

“To talk.”

“No, thank you.”  Rey started to close the door.  Charlie stepped inside.

“Wrong answer.”  He looked around.  There wasn’t another chair.  He leaned his butt up against the desk.  “We really need to talk.”

Charlie

This was it.  He was going to find out her intentions.  He hadn’t meant to kick her out of the studio at all, and she hadn’t allowed him to stop her from jumping in the cab.  Fortunately, he had heard where she was headed.  He had run back up to the studio to yell at his actors for a moment but stopped when he saw their deer-in-the-headlights look.  He sighed and left to find Rey.  Which had not been easy.

Charlie paused to collect his thoughts.

Rey glared at him as she took a seat in her squeaky chair.  “So, Mr. Barber, feel free to talk.  You say you didn’t kick me out of your studio.  I don’t know why you’re so upset, but I can guess.”

Charlie drew a deep breath.  “They had no right to ask you to join the Rep.”

“And that is my fault, how?”

He looked at her.  “Tell me the truth, Rey.  Did you target me because I have a company?”

Rey’s mouth dropped open, Charlie noted.  He wondered if she was a good actor or if the look of shock was genuine.

“What?”  Rey’s voice rose.  “Are you accusing me of tracking you down and hustling an audition so I could worm my way into your company?  Is that…”  She snapped her mouth shut and got up from her seat.  “Now it’s my turn to throw you out.  I need you to leave.”

Charlie watched her as she opened her door.  He held up his hands.  “It was a theory.”

“And a damned stupid one.  If you really think that’s how low-down shitty I am, then take a fucking walk.”

“I told you I’ve been burned pretty badly,” Charlie said.

“And so all women are users.”

Charlie shrugged, unrepentant.  “Actors are a crazed group of people.  They will do anything for a chance to work.”

Rey still stood at the door.  She lifted her chin.  “I think you’ve insulted me enough for one day.”

Charlie stood.  “I’ll go if you tell me what you were really doing.”

“Working on my list, you paranoid bastard.”

He watched her.  “Okay.”

“I don’t lie,” Rey gritted out.

“You didn’t want to join us?”

Rey was quiet for a moment.  “The thought crossed my mind when Gwen proposed it.  I liked the idea of doing something different, just for fun, with a group of people I liked.  I did want to join you, but not because I’m a professional actor lurking around company directors, begging for work.”

The answer made sense.  Charlie took a deep breath and realized he had fucked it all up with his doubt and fear.  “Thank you for your honesty.  I’m sorry it didn’t work out between us.”  He touched her arm and leaned in for a cheek kiss.  “I’ll go now.”

Rey put her hand on his chest and his heart almost stopped beating.  Her eyes were bright.  “Just tell me why.”

Charlie raised his brows.  “Why what?”

“Why is this such a big fucking deal to you?”

He pressed his lips together.  “I stupidly built my company and my entire fucking world around my ex.  When she left, she gutted the company and me.  I wasted so much time…”  He closed his eyes against tears that were trying to leak out.  It had been a while since he had cried over Nicole, but the wound was still there.  “She said I didn’t pay any attention to her interests or needs.  I thought I was building something with her, and I placed her in the center of it.”  He blinked hard and quickly brushed the moisture away.

Rey pulled him back in her office and shut the door.  “No need to tell your story to everyone out there,” she said.  She pushed him into her chair.  “Sit and collect yourself.”

Charlie looked away.  “I freaked out.  I thought you wanted to…”

“Make myself your muse and take over center stage?”

He looked up at her.  “I can’t do it again.  I must keep work and relationships separate from now on.  It’s the only way I feel comfortable.  I don’t want to date another fucking actor.”

“I get it,” Rey said.  “I was flattered that the others liked me and wanted me to be in their group.  I’m not an actor, though.  I would never define myself as such.”

A small flicker of hope rose in Charlie.  “You’re a writer.”

“Yep,” Rey said.  “I’m interested in connecting with people.  I spend too much time on my own inside my head.  That’s my motivation in a nutshell.”

Charlie gazed at Rey.  “Sorry I fucked it.”

Rey shrugged.  “It’s all right.  It was an honest mistake.  Most of the guys I’ve been with before wanted me to be a muse for them.  Or something.  They wanted me to entertain them, perhaps starring in whatever play they had in their minds.  A lot of times it had nothing to do with me or my interests.”

Charlie rose.  “Here, take your chair.  Tell me about it.

Rey

Rey and Charlie switched places again.  She had to laugh.  “Musical chairs.  When you want to tell the truth about your life, sit here.”

Charlie gave her a half-smile.  “Some might call that the hot seat.”

“True.  It’s not a big revelation or anything.  I’ve already talked about becoming involved in my writing to the point of ignoring other people.”

Charlie waved a hand.  “Yes, like directing.  We get involved and forget everything else.”

“Right.  Relationships are tough under the best circumstances, and when someone wants you to be a different person, it’s practically impossible.”

“Who wanted you to do that?”

“No one important, just someone who was disappointed in me and let me know it on a daily basis.”

“That is truly no one important.” Charlie crossed his arms.

“Yeah,” Rey said softly.  “Truly.”

Charlie nodded to himself.  “I don’t know what else to say.”

Rey shrugged.  “You’re freaked because you made someone into an icon that didn’t exist and didn’t fit with her plans.  I’m freaked because someone expected me to be an icon that didn’t exist and didn’t fit my plans.”

Charlie’s eyebrows shot up and he looked nonplussed.  “I guess that’s true.  I projected an image onto Nicole of what I wanted her to be and what our relationship should be.  And…”

“He Who Shall Not Be Named…”

“Oh, come on.  I said my ex’s name.”  Charlie unfolded his arms and pointed at Rey.  “Not fair.”

Rey rolled her eyes and sighed.  “Revan wanted to project his own personal fantasy onto me.  I was just a screen for his movie, which ran non-stop and had nothing to do with me.”

“I may have been guilty of that myself,” Charlie mused.  “I submerged Nicole into me—my interests had to be her interests.  I directed everything, at home, at work—chose everything.  I had opinions about our life from start to finish and I rarely listened to her.  Didn’t work.”

“I imagine it didn’t,” Rey said.  “It didn’t work for me, either.  May as well put up a cardboard cut-out of me and move it around.”

Charlie huffed a laugh.  He stood straight and stretched, his blue shirt coming slightly untucked.  “Well, I should go.”

Rey resisted the urge to straighten him out.  She closed her eyes and sighed.  “Yeah.”  She stood as well.  “Tell the others I’m sorry.”

“For what?  It’s me who should be sorry.  I fucking panicked.”

Rey patted his arm.  “It’s all right.  I panicked, too.”

Charlie pulled Rey in for a hug.  He kissed her hair.  “See ya.”

Rey nodded, unable to speak.

<> 

Charlie

Charlie reluctantly left Rey in her office.  He felt depressed and shitty, like he had missed an opportunity.  He felt sick at the thought of never seeing Rey again.  He couldn’t figure it out.  Why did he need to have a woman be just like him?

The answer…

He walked slowly down the hallway, thinking.  In fact, he didn’t want a woman to be just like him.  That’s what got him tangled up in the first place.  He freaked out because Rey tried to join the company and he swore he’d never allow his work life and home life….

Shit.

Charlie turned around and jogged back to Rey’s shut door.  He banged.

“Rey,” he said.

He heard movement and strange snufflings from behind the door.  Rey opened with suspiciously bright eyes.  “Yes?”  Her voice quavered.  Charlie was reminded of Rey’s description of herself as a watering pot.

He opened his arms to her, and she hesitated.  He stepped forward into her office.  She looked into his eyes.

“I’m a fucking idiot.  Hug me and I’ll tell you why.”

Rey walked into Charlie’s embrace, her nose pressed against his shirt.  He didn’t think twice.  He lifted her up and sat himself in her squeaky chair with Rey on his lap.

“Why?” she mumbled.

“Because… We can do this.  We can.”

Rey leaned back and looked at Charlie.  “Why do you say that?”

He laughed ruefully.  “My problem was that I put my ex at the center of my home and work life.  I swore I would never do that again.  If you don’t care about being in the Rep as an actor, then we’re all set.  You do your thing—poetry and stories.  I do mine—directing and running the company.  We meet at home in the evening and talk about our day.  I respect your work and you respect mine, but they don’t have to be the same.”

Rey stared at him.  “You don’t want me to be an actor?  Or a muse?  Or an extension of your fantasy?”

Charlie laughed.  “My only fantasy is to get you naked and do wicked things to you.  That’s the end of it.  Oh, and make you happy being with me.”

Rey leaned in and kissed him.  “I don’t have to be an actor. That’s not on the list.  I just wanted to audition for something.  And now I have.  I also want friends—I’d like to hang out with the actors socially.”

“Yeah, sure,” he said.  “We can do that.  What about people here at the university?  Got any colleagues?

Rey scrunched up her face.  “I’m a different kind of colleague.  I’m a fellow instead of a professor.”

“That doesn’t mean you can’t meet people.  Ask to have your office moved to a livelier section of the department.  Find out if there are parties or happy hours.”

Rey clapped her hands in excitement.  “I can do that.  And I can ask to teach a seminar.  I haven’t yet because it’s not required.  But I could meet colleagues in department meetings and talk about teaching.”

Charlie smiled at Rey and squeezed her thigh gently.  “Invite me to any of your faculty parties.  I’ll be glad to come with you—I’d like to meet some other people, too.  Preferably away from the theatre world that eats my life.”

Rey laughed.  “Be my arm candy.”

Charlie shot her a puzzled look.  “What?  I’m not arm candy.”

“Trophy boyfriend?”  Rey giggled and leaned in for a kiss.

“Now, wait.  I’m… How?”  Did she think he was good looking?  She must be blind.  Her face was alight with mischief.  Who was he to argue? 

Charlie watched Rey’s happy expression and realized how much he wanted this relationship to work.  He pulled her close.  “How’s that for crossing one off your list?  You want connection, well, here I am, ready to connect.”

“Charlie?” Rey grew serious.  “Are you ready to love me, though?  Can you do that?”

He knew without a doubt.  “Yes, I am.”

Rey

She was happy—so happy that he came back to her, so happy he loved her, and she loved him.  They snuggled in the squeaky chair for a time, whispering their love and kissing gently, deeply, and passionately.

Unfortunately, Charlie had to go back to work—he still had a play to put on.  Rey had deadlines to meet, so she walked him to the stairs, with her fingers twined in his and said goodbye for the moment.

Though Charlie invited Rey to watch the show again, she opted to meet him for a late dinner while she finished up work on her latest book.  He came by her apartment later, looking tired but happy, and swept her into the bedroom to show his full commitment to their relationship.

They lay together, warm and sleepy, letting old hurts drift away and new love flow in.  Softly, Charlie sang in his beautiful baritone:

Somebody, crowd me with love,
Somebody, force me to care,
Somebody, make me come through,
I'll always be there,
As frightened as you,
To help us survive
Being alive,
Being alive,
Being alive!