Holistic Heat

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Carol Lynne

The first thing I did when I got home from work—or as people on the commune called it, "the rat race," was take off my gold chain link necklace, bracelet, and earrings.

The thump of the jewelry box slamming shut gave a strong sense of satisfaction because they were more like dog tags than decorative. Sometimes, I wore my Buddha beads but not this evening because my neck was already damp with sweat.

The red cotton briefs and a white cami would suffice since it was rare that people came over.

Since my best friend, Sarah, came by less frequently—well, rarely, I'd taken a shine to being half-n***d. People thought because I'd grown up in a commune, or as we called it, an intentional community, I'd be okay with being n***d. But it wasn't anything like that. Besides, who in their right mind did farm work n***d?

Pulling out the elastic that held my blonde hair in a clean ponytail, I flipped it over, gathered it, and retied it into a messy top bun.

Not wanting to cook after my shitty day, I opened my freezer door to make a selection from the variety of frozen organic meals. My kitchenette comprised of a small fridge, a stove, and a sink that occupied the space of the back wall. It looked like it was part of the living room.

The phone binged with a notification of an incoming text. I closed the freezer and went to the table beside my patchwork couch to see who it was.

Charlie High Falutin' Stevenson: Can I come over? I'm feeling sort of down.

Carol Lynne Miller: No. Sorry, My day was f****d up. And I don't feel like having company right now.

There was a knock on my door. I rolled my eyes. Sheesh, this man took liberties whenever he wanted. There went arrogance for ya.

"Hold your horses!" I shouted at the door, then ran into my bedroom, grabbed a pair of tanned shorts from my dresser drawer, and slid it on.

I hurried out of the room, buttoning and zipping up my shorts along the way. After turning the locks, I pulled open the door to a hulking Charlie.

He stood there in brown aviator glasses, a white shirt, and tanned slacks. His hair was shorter since the last time he was here, but his beard was still scruffy.

My heart fluttered, and I promptly squashed it. Having feelings for this man was dangerous. Sure, we slept together a few times. My reactions towards him were nothing more than a memory of a great o****m. It wasn't like I was looking for a commitment, nor would he offer one.

"Come in and tell me about your shitty day, but you'll have to hear about mine. You're warned," I narrowed my eyes.

Charlie walked in with a faint smile on his square face. That jaw made him look like a sexy Neanderthal.

"You didn't have to rush to get dressed. I've seen you n***d, remember?"

Oh, I remember. Trust me. And I tried to forget it but can't. But I won't caress the ego of this arrogant prick, so I rolled my eyes, deliberately dismissing his question. After we had s*x the first time, he was weird afterward—typing on his phone and writing notes in his book. Not gonna lie, it hurt my feelings, so I kicked him out of my apartment.

When he talked me into it the second time, I knew what to expect and told him that he had to leave immediately after. He was too good to refuse, and as much as it pained to admit, I needed physical contact. Needless to say, he was shocked, and frankly, I was surprised he accepted my terms. That was the second time we hooked up.

I was holding out for Mr. Right, but at this rate, I seriously doubted he existed. Perhaps all we could hope for was Mr. Right now. Charlie.

As he walked by, there was a red stain on his neck.

"Are you bleeding?" I called out and turned his collar down for a closer inspection.

Charlie's expression morphed from curious to sheepish. "Naw, that was from my girl."

His girl? Since when did he have a girl?

I froze, the fire of humiliation engulfed my body. I cleared my throat, readjusted his collar, and said, "Sorry. I should've minded my own business." I scooted away and led him to the patchwork couch, feeling like I'd been slapped.

While we settled, I hugged my red mandala toss pillow and tried to breathe past the pain in my tight throat. If he aired what was on his mind, he could leave, and I'd finally put this shitty day to rest.

"So, what's up?" I prompted, wanting him to get this over with.

"I had a case that I couldn't find a way around except to offer a settlement. Dad figured out a loophole in like two seconds. I'm paranoid that he'll look down on me, and I may lose my good standing as someone he'll pass the company to."

"You think he'd look down on you because he offered you a suggestion? If that's all it takes to look down on a person, then—"

"Look, he's a good man, but he wants me to earn the company," Charlie cut in.

"And you think you're less deserving if he figures out something faster than you? Ray has had years of experience. I'm sure his mind is trained to pick up details that you'd miss. And so what if you're not the best lawyer, at least you're hard-working, and that counts for something, right? You can prove your worth in other ways."

He raised a heavy brow, "How?"

"Well, even if you don't win all your cases, you can still do things on the business end to make sure your dad's firm is perceived as one of the finest in the country. Find ways to drum up more business."

Charlie stared at his clasped hands, lost in thought. I just sat and watched our reflection on the blank TV screen. My throat chakra was blocked, probably because I'd been fighting a scream since I got home.

"So tell me why your day was so shitty." He interrupted my thoughts.

I blew out a breath. "I got fired today."

He reared back. Something about his reaction made me hike one side of my lips. I'd blame it on the fact that his privileged a*s figured out that there were other people with problems a little more significant than looking like a simpleton in front of your daddy. Some people didn't even know their daddy.

"What? How? You seem like the type to be diligent at work." He sounded confused.

Type. A classification. My spirits fell further, and I deadpanned, "I didn't f**k anything up. I got fired because the lady who was my competition for the job got promoted. And since we never got along—" I shrugged.

"Is there any recourse you can take, I mean legally?"

I gaped at him. Was he offering me help? "No. They're mailing my severance pay since I have a contract."

He squinted and slightly shook his head. "Why are you so calm? Shouldn't you be in tears?"

I pursed my lips. "Saw it comin'. That was why I started this new gig in the first place. Looks like I'm going to be a concert promoter full-time. Eventually, I'd like to turn it into a charity leg of concert tours where bands can donate their earnings for that concert to charity.

But first, I need to build up my reputation, so I'm working on putting together regularly scheduled shows. I have a gig tomorrow night, so I don't have time to be upset."

"Sounds cool. You told me about the concert when I drove you home from the hospital. Neat idea about the charity leg too. Hope it works out." he said, then glanced at his Rolex and stood up. "I gotta get going."

Not exactly. We talked about the concert I threw last summer, not the one tomorrow night. Nice to see he paid attention.

Thank goodness he was leaving. I stood up. "Thanks for dropping by." Not really, but Momma raised me to have manners even when I didn't feel like it.

"Thanks for talking to me, and I'm sorry about your job, Sugar."

Ugh. Sugar. He called me that after he found out I was from Mississippi. I told him to stop, but as I'd discovered, if you tell him to do anything, it'll only encourage him to do it more. I bet he kept his beard out of spite because his dad was on his case about shaving.

I led him to my front door and opened it. We said our goodbyes, and I closed it. Relief, relaxed my tight chest. Finally! I could let loose and cry without shame. I slipped off my shorts and returned them to the drawer when my phone rang. Oh, f**k my life!

I hurried back to the living room. After taking a gander at the long numbers on the screen, I guessed who it was. A pang of regret hit my heart as I swiped the green button.

"Hey, Momma. How're ya doing?" There was a pause before she responded in her southern accent. Her voice was deep and slightly raspy.

"Carol Lynne? You on your smartphone?"

"Yes, Momma. Is everything okay? You're calling from the payphone at the convenience store down yonder, aren't ya?"

"Oh, yeah, everything is okay over here, Sweet Pea. How about you?" Her tone was filled with concern. Dang, she can already tell. I must sound like s**t.

"Well, I got fired today." No need to beat around the bush, I guess.

"Does that mean you're comin' home?" The hope that filled her voice made my heart ache. She was lonely. That was what happened when you're the social pariah on a commune. She and my biological father ran away to that community. The founder fell in love with my dad. Guess who won that battle for that loser's heart? Free love? Nothin' was ever free.

"No, Momma, it doesn't. I had a feeling this would've happened, so I started another business as a concert promoter, and I'm working tomorrow night. As much as this sucked, it wasn't the worst thing that could've happened."

That reminded me that Keith's band was playing at the concert. I didn't trust he'd remember to attend the sound check because his drunkenness was a common state.

She laughed good-naturedly, snapping me back to attention. "That's my Sweet Pea. Like a cat, always landin' on yer feet."

"Yes, Ma’am. I'll be fine. But how are you?"

She sighed, "Plumb tuckered. Business is boomin' at the restaurant, so my toes are hollerin' at the end of the day."

Yeah, I know. All that manual labor with nothing to show for it. My mother was a cook in the restaurant on River Run Farms and works for one hundred dollars per month. I'd tried to send her money over the years, so she didn't need to spend hers, but she told me that she didn't need much to get by. I told her that it wasn't about getting by, it was about leverage.

She said she didn't need it or anything else. The only time she did was when she called and begged for seven hundred dollars for a new mattress.

She hesitated. "Just callin' to check up on ya. It's been a while since we talked or even saw each other."

"I know, Momma. I might have more time now that I'm running my own business. Maybe I can come to visit for a while."

"That would be wonderful, Sweet Pea. I'd look forward to that." The excitement in her voice tweaked my heart. I'd been such a bad daughter.

"Or, I could send you some money, so you can buy a plane ticket to visit me."

"Oh darlin', you're sweeter than sugar, but I can't get away. You're gonna have to come down here."

I frowned, "Okay, I'll do that. Love you, Momma."

She hesitated for a beat, like there was something she was about to say. "Love you too. Bye, Sweet Pea."

"Bye, Momma."

That was weird. Something nagged me but I couldn't put my finger on it. Sucks because I would've helped her in any way I could if she asked.

I took a bag of frozen leftover vegan chili out of the freezer and popped it in the microwave. Then I turned on my laptop while waiting for my food to heat up.

The footsteps of my neighbor echoed in the hall outside. His keys jingled as he turned the lock. I got up, ran to my door, and opened it quickly before he disappeared.

I called out, "Keith, wait!" The tall, skinny, dark-haired man jerked in surprise. His eyes stayed wide open as they traveled down my body. My eyes followed his and looked down at my bare legs.

"f**k!" I shouted, scrambled back into my apartment, and slammed the door.