You're killing me, Smalls. I'm trying to be gentlemanly.
Me
What if I don't want you to be a gentleman?
Charlie
That'll come later... and so will you. When it's time.
I make it home in record time to get ready.
I've just finished adjusting my breasts and second-guessing my choice of attire when the intercom buzzes. Six sharp.Charlieis hotandpunctual.
I check the camera to confirm it's him and press the button to let him up. A minute later, there's a knock on the door. I take adeepbreath, then open it."Right on time."
His smile freezes in place. His eyes wander down my body, then back up, pausing on my breasts before moving to my mouth and finally my eyes. His Adam's Apple bobs with a swallow."Wow."
My neck heats, the flush creeping its way up to my cheeks."Not too much?"
He traces the sweetheart neckline, tickling the skin of my bosom, and shakes his head."Are you comfortable?"
"Yes, and... it has pockets."I put my hands in the pockets of the coral sundress I chose and twirl, the scalloped hem emblazoned with hummingbirds flaring out so it looked like the birds were in flight. It's one of the few pieces of my wardrobe chosen by my mother I actually liked.
Charliewhistles."Very nice. But we should go now, or we may not make it out of here."
He offers his elbow and I slip my hand through. I grab my keys and crossbody with my other hand and shut the door, checking the auto-lock engaged."So where are we going?"
"You'll see."
He guides me out the door to his car, which is double-parked."I should've given you the garage code so you could park underneath,"I say, sliding into the front seat of the dark blue Toyota.
"Next time."He closes the door and walks around to the driver's side. Traffic inBaltimoreon a Friday evening is its typical clusterfuck, but at last we're on the beltway heading out of town.
I scroll through the saved stations on his satellite radio to distract myself from my nerves and select a surprising one. Dolly Parton sings about love being like a butterfly."I wouldn't have pegged you as a country fan."
He laughs."Classic country. I grew up listening to Dolly, Patsy, Merle, Kenny."
"Johnny Cash?"
He scoffs andgivesme an incredulous look."Of course."
"Huh."I settle back in my seat."We've been friends for a few years now, but I know shockingly little about you. So tell me. Who isCharlieSalinas?"
The corner of his lipspullsup, showing a hint of a dimple."Just a guy taking a beautiful woman out on this lovely May night."
"Seriously."I face him best I can with the seatbelt restraining me."You know all about me since you did the interview. But where are you from? You said you have a brother–is he your only sibling? What's your sign? How old are you, for that matter? IsCharlieshort for Charles, or is it justCharlie?"
Heshootsa glance my way."All right. I'm from Annapolis. I have one brother,Matt. I'm a Cancer, I think. I'm thirty-three. And neither."
"Neither? What do you mean, neither? What else isCharlieshort for?"
"Carlos,"he says with alaugh."My name is Carlos Alejandro Salinas. My brotherMattis Mateo. My grandparents immigrated from Mexico fifty years ago, when my father was ten, and he faced a lot of racism growing up as Miguel. He didn't want that for us, but he still wanted to honor our roots. My grandparents and extended family call us Carlos and Mateo, but to the rest of the world, we'reCharlieandMatt. Although my brother's girlfriend calls him Matty, but she's the only one allowed to."
"Noted."I chuckle, then frown."How do you feel about that? Does it ever seem like you're hiding who you are?"
He purses his lips."I guess I never thought about it. I don't hide that I'm Mexican-American, but it doesn't come up all that often."
"Do you speak Spanish? I tried to learn French, but it didn't go well. We took a trip to Paris and I tried topractice, but everyone I spoke to pleaded with me to stop assaulting their language andparlee-voos-Anglish."I snicker when I catch him wincing."It's okay, you canlaugh. I know it's terrible."
