Through the waiver and more choices. Seriously? This is more difficult than getting your hands on a discounted wedding dress at Kleinfeld. Not that I am looking to get married or anything. Just sayin’.

  I click on “m4w” and then pages and pages and pages of listing litter my screen. Holy hell! Some have pictures attached, but many don’t. I just start at the top and look for a topic that catches my eye.

  “Rock Hard” is the first one that interests me because –hello! - what girl doesn’t want a man who is exactly that. Rock freaking hard. I hope it is as good as promised. I would love to stop my search at number one. I click on it and check out the ad.

  I have the Viagra. Need a woman, 18-80 & able to go for hours. No picture exchange needed. Email me so we can set a time to meet. Hard4hours@nailyoutillyoucantwalk.com

  Oh, hell no! Next! Apparently, my subject line picking judgment is way off. This time, I flick my wrist and pick a random one my finger lands on. “Rock my World.” Okay, not too bad. Let’s open it up and see what this guy has to say for himself.

  Looking for young SWF to rock my world. I mean literally. I want to be rocked like a baby while I dress up in a diaper and suck my thumb. Please email if interested! lullabyme@imafreak.com

  The first sentence is perfect. Fitting. But then it goes all downhill. I don’t even get to the second line before I start laughing hysterically. I just can’t… I mean, come on. It’s too much. I am actually having trouble forming a coherent thought. Are there really guys out there who enjoy this? Better yet, what woman wants to do this to a man? Children are hard enough work, and I’m not looking to make any babies. I need a man. A real man. Not some diaper wearing, thumb sucking freak! Oh my god, this is useless.

  I flick my wrist one more time, now knowing that my search is completely over. At this point, I am just looking at the ads to amuse myself while I am waiting for jack hole, er, I mean Parker, to get here. I am going to give him a piece of my mind! I stop the page haphazardly, pick a line without reading it, and click.

  Married couple looking to add a little spice to our lives. Looking for a SHF with a little extra junk in the trunk. Must be able to host as we live with my parents. Must be able to multi-task. Email a pic of your ass to: latinlover@swingwithmywife.com

  On that note, I click the bottom button, closing out Craigslist. I go to my bookmarks and erase my web history. So much for internet dating. I shut off my iPad and slide it back into my purse. I am done. Done. No really, I am done. Where the hell is Parker?

  Charlotte again…

  Livid and hungry. Not a good combination. Parker finally waltzes in just after noon. He looks relaxed and well rested; I am going to throttle him.

  “What the hell, Parker?” I ask in a tone, and he knows. He just knows.

  He cocks his head and flashes me his movie star, you-can’t-be-mad-at-me, panty-melting smile. “Well, hello there, yourself, beautiful.”

  I stare at him for a few beats, lost in his sexy aura. Then I snap back to reality, remembering that I am fuming. And hungry. And horny. Shit!

  “Seriously, Parker. You were supposed to be here hours ago,” I try in a less bitchy manner.

  “I know, honey. I’m sorry, something came up.”

  “Fine, whatever,” I say flippantly. I don’t feel like fighting with him.

  “Come on, Char. I may not be married, but I know when a woman says ‘fine,’ she most certainly doesn’t mean ‘fine,’” Parker says with a wry smile and a wink.

  Dammit! When he does shit like that, there is no way I can stay mad at him.

  “No, really, it’s fine.” I huff, raising my hand with a dismissive wave. Whatever, I am over it. I just want to go home and eat. And maybe take care of a little business, if you know what I mean.

  “Okay, if you’re sure,” he says warily. “So…do you have my audition schedule?”

  “Of course.” I get up and head into Eddie’s office. I reach into the file cabinet that has all of the client files in it and I pull his out. When I head back to my desk, I see that he has plopped down into the chair in front of it.

  “Comfortable?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.

  “With you, always,” he answers flirtatiously, but I know it is harmless.

  Parker and I kissed a few years ago. We were at some party and it just kind of happened. We both agreed that neither of us felt anything. It was kind of like kissing my brother, actually. Okay, ew, now I have that mental picture, which needs to be erased. Immediately. Kissing Tommy like that would be disgusting. Mmmmm. Kissing. Kissing Parker. He’s friends with Calvin. Kissing Calvin. Sigh. Oh my god, seriously, Charlie. Get a grip.

  I drag myself out of that fantastic fantasy of kissing Calvin, and focus back on Parker. He didn’t realize that my head was elsewhere because he is in his own little world, still reviewing his schedule.

  “Parker, while I have you here…”

  “Hmmm?” is his response, not even looking up at me from behind the paper.

  Maybe I can sneak this past him. “I kind of did something that I want to discuss with you.”

  “Okay,” he responds, now giving me his full attention.

  Shit! This is not going to be easy.

  “I kind of told some guy that we were dating,” I say as a matter of fact, trying to make it seem like it’s no big deal.

  “Huh? Come again?”

  “Yeah. This guy kept asking me out, so I told him that I have a boyfriend,” I say, scrunching up my nose and ducking my head.

  “Okay. That was a good idea. But how did I end up in the mix?” he asks, listening attentively to my answers.

  “Well, at the time, you were in the room. I just saw you while talking to him and I kinda sorta blurted out your name.”

  I slide down in my chair a little, bracing for him to yell at me. I know he doesn’t like me throwing around his name to anyone. You never know when a reporter is around.

  “My name just blurted out?” he asks, tapping his pointer finger on his chin.

  “Yeah.”

  I can tell the wheels are starting to turn. He is much slower to respond this time. “And this ‘guy.’ Do I know him?” he asks.

  “Sort of.” I shrug.

  “’Sort of?’” He parrots, nodding his head.

  “Yeah, you may know him,” I say evasively.

  Parker rubs the back of his neck, and then looks me dead in the eyes. “Charlie,” he bites out in warning.

  “Parker,” I whine.

  Before he gets in another word, my cell phone rings. That’s odd. Saved by the bell! The only people that call my cell are Delilah and my father. But Delilah would text me during business hours. I open my drawer where my phone is hiding and look at the screen. I was right.

  I look back to Parker and raise my finger, asking for a quick minute to answer.

  “Hey, Dad,” I chirp into the phone.

  “Hi, Darling. Are you at work?” he asks, his voice sounding strained.

  “What’s the matter, Dad?”

  I subconsciously pick some nonexistent lint off my skirt. I glance up at Parker, but he is back in his own world, texting on his cell. My dad is silent for a few more seconds. My heart rate starts to pick up, waiting for him to answer.

  “Is it Mom? Is Tommy okay?” I ask, panic growing in the pit of my stomach.

  I feel rather than see Parker’s head swing up and in my direction. I know he is looking at me. I am sure he is concerned by the tone of my voice, but I don’t look in his direction.

  “They are fine, sweetheart,” he answers calmly. “They are not why I called.”

  “What is it, Dad? You are scaring me.” My voice quivers.

  “Are you sitting down?” is all he asks and my heart completely sinks.

  I finally look back up at Parker. He is literally sitting on the edge of his seat, waiting to make sure that everything is okay. He is such a good friend. And he is gorgeous, too. It sucks that there is just no chemistry between us. I listen to what my father has to say, nodding up and down like a bobble head, as if he could see me. I “Mmhmm” him a few times, then with a shaking hand, I hang up. I lean back in my chair, unable to keep myself completely upright. Parker and I sit silently for a few minutes just staring at each other, a lone tear sliding down my face. I never thought this day would come.

  Some more Charlotte…

  I need a drink. That’s all that I can think about right now. When Parker sees my face after that phone call with my dad, he knows. No questions asked. He holds out his hand and just says, “Let’s get out of here.” I take his hand, grab my shit, and lockup, without a second thought. Thank god Eddie is out of town.

  So, now we are headed “out.” I have no idea where he is taking me or what he has in store for me. I just know that it can’t and won’t be anywhere too public. The paparazzi are ruthless, and he can’t afford any scandals right now. Like being seen with a crying woman with mascara running down her face. I can just imagine the headlines now: Parker Hamilton breaks up with pregnant girlfriend. Or even better: Parker Hamilton caught with a prostitute. I laugh to myself for a second, but not enough to snap me out of this funk.

  We have been driving in silence for almost ten minutes already. He is probably afraid of saying something that may make me start to cry again. He didn’t ask me what the phone call was about, and I am grateful to him for that. I am not ready to tell him because that would mean that I would have to tell him everything. And there are only a few people who know everything, Delilah being one of them. So I do tell him the one thing that he does deserve to know.

  Looking straight ahead, I say one word. “Calvin.” Well, a name, actually. Not a word.

  “Huh?” he asks completely confused. And who can blame him really. I just threw that at him from left field. “You women are crazy.” He chuckles. “You switch topics so quickly and expect us cavemen to follow. What about Calvin, woman?”

  I lean my head back against the headrest, stare at the roof, and let out a big laugh. Not just a chortle, chuckle, or cackle, but a full-blown belly laugh. My head still leaning on the headrest, I turn my head toward Parker and smile at him.

  “Thank you. I needed that,” I tell him sincerely.

  “I am glad, Char. But I am completely serious. I have no idea what you are talking about. What about Calvin? Is that what the call was about?” he asks cautiously.

  “No.” I sigh. “Calvin is the one I told.”

  “Told what?”

  “Oh my god, Parker! Were you listening to a thing I said to you back there?” I asked annoyed.

  Parker bites out a string of curses. “No, Charlie. Tell me you are not saying what I think you are saying.”

  I shrug my shoulder. “Sorry?”

  “Charlie! Calvin is going to kick my ass!” he shouts almost nervously.

  “No he won’t. He respects your friendship too much,” I respond, trying to appease him.

  “You better hope so,” is all that he says and the subject is closed.

  That could have gone better, but I also know it could have been a fuckload worse. He is being easy on me because he knows that I am emotionally drained. Normally, that would piss the ever living shit out of me. I don’t take pity well, and I certainly don’t like to be thought of as emotionally weak. I am anything but fragile. But in this instance, it totally works in my favor. Screw my pride.

  We are sitting in silence once again, and it seems that we may both be deep in thought. After our brief conversation, my mind wanders to Calvin. The last time I saw him was at our little run in at the restaurant. I wonder if he ended up leaving with zebra pants. At that thought, a shudder runs through me and my body shivers. I am not jealous. I am not jealous. Parker must think that I am rehashing my phone call, so he grabs my hand and pulls it to him. He rests both of our hands, fingers intertwined, on the drive shaft between us. We are still enjoying our comfortable silence, and I can’t help but wonder where he is taking me. That only lasts another five minutes.

  “Why the fuck are we here?” I sneer.

  “Come on, Charlie. You know I can’t be seen in public, and this is the next best thing. All you can drink. Free. Plus, he is never here this early. ”

  That’s his explanation, and I am not happy. I don’t need free drinks. I need to be as far away from him as possible. He is way too tempting, overly dangerous, and I am far too vulnerable. He better not be here.

  I rip my hand from his, a clear scowl on my face. Before I can say another word, he opens his car door and gets out. Then he leans back in facing me with a huge smile on his face.

  “Grab those two masks in the back seat, would ya? And get your fine ass out of the car.”

  Charlotte, one more time…

  I follow Parker into Club M like a punished toddler, dragging my feet and grumbling under my breath. I can’t believe after spending all of that time discussing in detail the lengths that I have gone to in order to avoid Calvin, this is where he brings me. Dick!

  We walk through the solid wood doors and the cold air from the air conditioner sends goose bumps down my arms. At least that is what I am telling myself. I don’t want to admit that being in this close of a proximity to Calvin, knowing that I could potentially see him at any minute, is wreaking havoc on my nerves. The same nerves that are already shot from my earlier phone call.

  Parker notices that I have stopped walking. He probably also notices that my eyes are red and puffy, and probably red rimmed from so much crying. He turns to me with a frown and whispers reassurances in my ear that Calvin is not here, and that I will be “okay,” that he will be there for me, be my strength. With a chaste kiss, he pulls down my mask and grabs my hand, leading me to the club’s entrance. As we pass Monica, I don’t really hear what Parker says, but I see her nod and hand him our in-house messaging devices, nametags, and a key. Odd.

  After putting my name tag on my shirt – shit! I am still in my work clothes – and handing me the texter, Parker walks me directly to the bar. He instinctively knows what I need. I sit on a stool by his side, while he orders for me. I am so lucky to have a friend like him. He is still holding my hand, and I am using his strength to keep me from completely falling apart. I never realized how important he is to me. Suddenly, I feel bad for all of the negative things I was thinking about him today for being late, and my eyes begin to water…again. I am a fucking mess!

  Parker lets go of my hand and wraps his arm around my shoulder, holding me tight. The bartender hands me my drink and I gulp it down. Not very lady-like, maybe, but right now, I don’t give a shit. I see Parker nod to the bartender to fix me another. As he hands me my second, I see Parker reach across the bar and just grab the entire bottle of Jose Cuervo tequila. ‘Atta boy! Just as I start to get comfortable in Parker’s arms, the hairs on the back of my neck stand, and a pulse strums between my legs. What the hell? Lo and behold, Calvin just sauntered into the club. And of course, my vagina has to take notice. Why does he have to be so fucking hot? Wow, I think I am a little tipsy.

  My body stiffens as he nears us. Parker realizes why and texts me that he will be right back. He walks over to Calvin and I can see that they are having a discussion via text messages. Calvin glances at me, then Parker at me. Okay, so clearly I am the topic of their conversation. And it seems to be very emotional or something. Calvin’s face looks strained and Parker is grimacing. I have no idea, but I am definitely going to get to the bottom of it. I stand up off the bar stool and I guess the drinks were a lot stronger than I thought, because as I try to take a step, I falter and start to wobble. I put my hands out to catch my fall, but I never actually hit the ground. When I get my wits back, I realize that both Parker and Calvin are holding me up. They start texting each other, but I am not privy to what’s being said. I imagine it is something like…

  Ham Bone #069: I’m going to take her up

  C-dog #413: I’ll come check on u in a bit

  Seconds later, with Parker’s arm thankfully still wrapped around my waist, my new best friend, Jose Cuervo, and I head toward the stairs. I don’t have to ask where we are going, I know what’s up there. We walk down what seems to be the longest hallway I have ever experienced, and then stop in front of a locked door. The key! Duh! Parker ushers me in and I take a long look around. The room looks awfully familiar, and even in my tipsy hazy state, I recognize it as the room I confronted Nick, er, Nico. Ah, the good old days. I plop ungracefully onto the bed and take a swig of Jose. I am going to need the liquid courage for what I am about to do. It’s time to come clean.

  “Parker, you have been so patient with me. I owe you an explanation,” I say nervously. He is standing a few feet away from the bed and I want him closer. I need him closer. Drawing from his strength is the only way I am going to get through this.

  He somehow reads my thoughts and comes to sit next to me on the bed. “You don’t owe me anything, Char. That’s what friends are for. To support each other. Unconditionally,” he responds sincerely, and I believe every word.

  “I know. But it’s time to share my past with you. I trust you and know you will not tell anyone else.”

  “Of course not, sweetie. Anything you say gets locked in my vault. Once it goes in, it never comes back out. Ever.” He shoots me a wry smile and I just want to hug him. So I do.

  “Does this have anything to do about the phone call from your dad?”

  “Yeah,” I say and look away. This is going to be harder than I thought. It’s one thing to tell him about the phone call, but it’s another to tell him my past. It is so humiliating.

  He sees that I am struggling, so he grabs my hand again, covering with both of his. I can do this. I take another swig of tequila.

  “Before I tell you about the phone call, I need to give you a little back story, so you will understand its significance.”