“But as long as the night ends with you in a yellow cab, shootin’ me a text sayin’ coming home soon. As long as I can bet on you crawlin’ into bed after slippin’ out your high heel shoes…”


Each passing day of August drew Charlotte closer and closer to insanity. The festival was becoming more and more real as the main crew got together on a near daily basis to work out the final kinks of the film. This was it. By the time TIFF began, there wouldn’t be any more time to change anything. The film would be premiered and what was there would remain there. Darcy of course tried to ease her nerves, which offered no real solace, so Charlotte tried to explain it to him in terms he could grasp more fully.

She gave him this metaphor: Let’s say the three biggest competitions in hockey, from most prestigious down, was the Olympics, Worlds, and the Stanley Cup championship. After a brief mention that he would reorder those, Charlotte stopped him and said that for the purposes of her example, that order would work. So Darcy smiled and let her finish. If those were the three biggest competitions in hockey, Charlotte compared them to film festivals. Cannes would be the Olympics, Sundance would be Worlds, and Toronto would be the Stanley Cup.

After she explained it to him that way, Darcy quit trying to make her less nervous. Hell, he knew if he was going to the Stanley Cup championships, he’d be a nervous wreck too, regardless of what anyone said. As production designer, Jules’ portion of work on the film was done, and with the hours Charlotte had been putting in lately, she felt she needed to get her friend out. The festival was two and a half weeks away, and if Charlotte kept working the way she was until then, she was going to be completely burnt out. And when Jules wanted to be convincing, she could be really convincing.

That’s how Charlotte got here. At Darcy’s place. Bent over the bathroom counter to get closer to the mirror as she dragged her eyeliner along the waterline of her eye. Jules had insisted that tonight be a girls night, and so Charlotte promised Darcy that she’d stay the night at his place afterwards. After she showered, she came over to get ready mostly so she could leave her overnight things here beforehand.

“Hey, Char!” Darcy called from his bedroom.

Charlotte stood straight, backing away from the mirror to see if her line work looked symmetrical. Nope. Fuck it. “Yeah,”

As she was about to lean in to fix the line over her eyelid, she paused when she spotted Darcy in the doorway. He held up the hanger of the dress she planned on wearing tonight.

“This is a little sexy,”

“Darc,” she started, looking back in the mirror to fix her makeup, “remember I said I had a boyfriend who told me what I could and couldn’t wear?”

“Yeah,” he mumbled, looking down at the dress.

“He’s an ex now,”

He opened his mouth but stopped short. She couldn’t deny that the dress was pretty sexy, and she would’ve preferred to wear it going out with him. But Jules was convincing and only agreed to pay for all of Charlotte’s expenses tonight if she wore that dress and went to the bar of Jules’ choosing. But Darcy continued to skeptically examine the dress, “babe, I’m not saying you can’t wear the dress. I’m just saying it’s a little sexy,”

“Thank you,” she smirked, turning her head to look at him. When she saw his exasperated expression, she stuck her tongue out at him playfully. “C’mon Darc, don't be jealous,”

“I’m not jealous, I just…” his voice trailed off and he set the hanger over the doorknob. He walked beside her and leaned back against the counter. With his arms folded across his chest, he looked down at her, “I just don’t want anyone touchin’ on you, and sayin’ shit to you… especially when I’m not gonna be there to protect you.”

Charlotte had to admit that she found the protective side of Darcy outrageously attractive. Partly because it came out of a place of mild jealously, and partly because it came from a place of a lot of love and caring. She smiled softly and looked back into the mirror, re-dragging her eyeliner over the previous line to fix it. “I look like a bitch, so I don’t think anyone’s going to bother me,” she tried to diffuse the situation.

“No you don’t, you look beautiful.” They made eye contact though the mirror, and Charlotte put her makeup down and faced him. “I’m just nervous,”

“I’m gonna be with Jules in a swanky, downtown LA, rooftop bar. If she and I could safely navigate the frat houses at UCLA, I think we’ve got this.” She opened up her compact and powdered down a shiny spot on her forehead before digging through her makeup bag for the blush.

Darcy watched her move efficiently, obviously undeterred by his concerns. “Downtown LA’s seedy as hell after ten.” He pushed a hand through his hair, “Char, you’re gonna look fuckin’ gorgeous in that dress and guys are fuckin’ scumbags… and I don’t want ‘em hitting on you in a place where that shit’s normal. No one’ll bat an eye if a guy’s giving a girl unwanted attention.”

Charlotte put her blush away and looked up at Darcy, moving in front of him. She tugged on his arms until he uncrossed them so she could step into his body. And she took his wrists and wrapped his arms around her hips, “I hear you and I appreciate your concern. But can we agree that this is coming out of a place of jealously?” She grinned softly and shook her head when Darcy opened his mouth to speak. “I’m going to this bar with Jules, and we’re both going to look good, and you’re jealous that other guys are going to find me attractive and want to talk to me, regardless of whether or not they touch me. And it makes you jealous that out of needing to be a decent human being, I’m going to be talking to these guys, even though their interest in me may only be physically or sexually charged. Are we agreed on that?”

“Charlotte,” he squeezed her hips.

“Good. Although I’ll have you know that if anyone lays a hand on me, I’m reserving the right to pepper spray them in the face,” she smirked and reached over to her makeup bag, pulling out a small canister of pepper spray.

“You are a bitch,” he joked and laughed it, “I love it.”

“I told you I was,” she put the pepper spray back and looked up at him. “I’m gonna be fine, okay?”

“It’s not that I don’t trust you, Char. It’s other guys I don’t trust,”

She smiled, “I know. Neither do I.”

He bent lower to kiss her tenderly. The only thing that pulled them away was the ringing of his doorbell. Jules was on time for one of the first times in her life. Darcy smiled down at her and then left the bathroom, allowing Charlotte to finish her last touches while he let Jules in.

It didn’t take her very long at all. Darcy and Jules were chatting away in the living room, waiting for the next Uber to arrive. And that’s when Charlotte came out, all dressed and ready to go. When he heard her high heels clicking along the hardwood floor into the room, Darcy stood up from the couch and looked at her. His eyes were glued to her, flicking up and down her body, and all it did was make Charlotte blush wildly.

“Oh my god, you’re so hot,” he went up to her, wrapping one arm around her. Being this close, he had to tilt his head in order to still admire her whole body. His hand drifted down to her ass and squeezed it gently.

She looked up at him and barely held back a huge smile. Charlotte kissed Darcy quickly, feeling the urge to not make this too awkward for Jules. She turned past him and grinned at Jules, “shit we look good.”

“You’re a fucking looker!” Jules shrieked, looking over Charlotte’s dress. “I might make out with you tonight,”

“Only if we’re drunk enough,” Charlotte agreed. She giggled and looked through her small purse, making sure she had everything. Satisfied, she looked back up at Darcy, “I’ll see you tonight.”

He smiled as best he could and pressed his lips to the top of her head as she wrapped her arms around him. Darcy replaced one hand on her ass, placing the other on her waist. “Be safe, okay?”

“I will,” she whispered and kissed him softly. When she pulled away, she giggled, wiping her thumb across his lips to get rid of the traces of her lipstick.

---

Charlotte rolled her eyes at the guy who had perched himself beside her. His friend had stolen Jules’ attention. Her prediction to Darcy about the bar was pretty accurate. The place was outrageously swanky. Although she could’ve never imagined there would be a giant pool in the middle of it. No one was using it tonight, as the wind chill at the top of the downtown high rise was making it a little too cold to shed clothes and jump in.

“Wow, you are very gorgeous,” the newcomer said to Charlotte as he sipped his drink.

He and his friend were older gentlemen. Charlotte figured they were business guys in town, looking to spend the evening or entire night with someone much younger than them. She figured both men had to have been somewhere in their forties. And even though the bar was filled with young men and women, these were the first two that came up to them. Not that they were bad looking by any means, but Charlotte could tell they were… experienced.

“Thank you,”

“Mike,” he held out his hand.

Charlotte looked down at it and then smiled. Time to break out the alias, “Mia.” She put her hand in his to shake it. But before she could, he gripped her hand and brought it up to his mouth to kiss. Charlotte wanted to vomit.

“What do you do, Mia?”

“Oh, you must answer first,” Charlotte teased. Her eyes wandered over to Jules making sure she had everything in check with the man in front of her.

“I’m a partner at PWC,”

“A finance man,” she grinned pretending to actually care about the goings on of this man’s life.

“Your turn,” he challenged.

“I model,”

Mike’s eyes lit up and Charlotte tried not to look too disgusted. They were sitting on a chaise lounge by the edge of the pool and Charlotte noted how Mike scooted in closer to her subtly. “Well you are very beautiful, very sexy…”

Charlotte smiled weakly and turned her head away from him, sipping the remainder of her drink.

“Let me get you another,” he set his hand on her bare thigh as her dress had ridden up a little bit.

“No, that’s alright,” she pushed his hand off of her leg. When he looked at her offended, she amended, “I’ve got a boyfriend.”

Mike smiled and shook his head, “he good to you?” Charlotte nodded emphatically. “He buy you nice things?” She fake smiled and nodded again. “He fuck you good?”

The smile faded from Charlotte’s face. She clenched her teeth together.

“I don’t think he does because you look like you need it hard.”

It took everything inside her not to bitch slap this guy. Who the fuck did he think he was? “Does that actually work for you? Chastise women into sleeping with you? Mike, if I needed a good, hard fuck, I definitely wouldn't go to you with your god-awful argyle sweater vest and your saggy ass ballsack. I wouldn’t let you touch me with a ten foot pole,” Charlotte stood up and strutted away from him. She was shaking with anger, ready to pop someone in the face. She went up to the bar and leaned over it, waiting for the bartender to come over to her.

For the rest of the night, she made a conscious effort to watch what kind of guys she was talking to. Mostly, she just tried to work herself into a group of girls by complimenting them, and then getting into a conversation where no guy was bound to interrupt. Eventually, when Jules had ditched Mike’s friend, she joined Charlotte at the bar. They agreed that there wasn’t anybody there that was worth Jules’ full attention, other than Charlotte. Still, she wasn’t mad enough for them to leave early.

It wasn’t until one thirty that Charlotte tapped Jules’ shoulder and asked if they could go home. She had spent the day working on the film and was bound to do the same tomorrow, and desperately needed sleep; mostly for her eyes. Jules agreed and called for an Uber, and together, they took the long elevator descent down to the street. Because of the time it took to get there, they only waited a minute or so by the curb before the car pulled up. And when they got in it, Charlotte pulled out her phone and texted Darcy. She didn’t know if he would still be up, but she figured she’d just check in.

Coming home.

It wasn’t until she hit send, that she realized the contradiction in what she’d said. Home. It wasn’t her home. Technically. At a month and a half into a relationship, they were nowhere near ready to live together. Although when she thought about it, he had already told her he loved her. A month and a half was fast for that too. She figured that although their dating relationship was only just over month old, their relationship as a whole was about eight months old. Meeting in January, and now halfway through August… it was a long time to know someone and still not really know them.

The driver was kind enough to make two stops for them, but only because Jules happened to be very convincing again. Actually, she was proud of her friend. Instead of offering anything illicit to the driver, Jules just promised to tip him well if he made an extra stop. And because of the late night hour, it made for no traffic, and they were able to make it back to South Bay in record time. Why couldn’t it always be like that?

As soon as Charlotte was out of the car in front of Darcy’s place, the driver rushed away to his next stop. She hobbled up the walk to the porch, her high heels now hurting her more than anything, and she crouched down to pick up the spare key Darcy left under the mat for her. She unlocked the door and tiptoed in, trying to be as quiet as possible. Unfortunately, her heels and the hardwood floor made that nearly impossible. She clicked into his bedroom, not able to see much of anything in the darkness, and that’s when she went down.

She wasn’t sure what, but she’d tripped over something and tumbled to the floor. “Shit, stupid…” she whispered.

“I’m up,” Darcy mumbled from the bed.

“Fuck!” Charlotte screamed, leaning over to blindly unbuckle her shoe.

Darcy giggled and reached over beside his bed to flick on the lamp. With the soft glow of light, Charlotte now saw that she’d tripped over one of the boxes he still hadn’t unpacked, having no place to put the things inside of it. She looked up at the bed as she threw her high heels to the corner of the room. Darcy was now sat up in bed, shirtless, hair askew, looking absolutely handsome.

“How was the bar?” He curled his hand into a fist and rubbed his eye.

Charlotte figured she’d spare him any detail of Mike. “It was fun,” she got up and contorted her body to reach behind her and unzip the dress.

Darcy watched her shimmy out of her outfit and pull her hair back into a messy bun. “I’m happy you’re home,” he smiled sleepily.

There was that word again. She figured it could go without an answer for now while she finished washing her face. It gave her a few minutes to think about why that was the word that popped into both of their minds. “I’m happy too,” she smiled, coming back into his bedroom. She crawled onto the bed and allowed Darcy to pull the blankets over her.

He scooted in closer behind her, running his hand over her stomach and up to her breasts. Her bra thwarted most of his plan of feeling her up. “You get hit on,” he asked, reaching for the bra clasp on her back and undid it effortlessly.

She smiled and shrugged her shoulders, working her bra off of her arms and then flung it off the side of the bed, “nothing unmanageable.”

Darcy hummed and cupped his hands over her breasts, feeling her body relax back onto his. He kissed her shoulder and let out a long breath, “camp starts the tenth. So I can be in Toronto with you the first four days, and then I have to come back.”

Charlotte was disappointed, but not at him. At the situation. She knew he needed to be back here for work. The four days would probably be long enough for him to see the premiere of her film, but wouldn’t mean he’d be around for the awards portion. Not that she believed they were actually going to win any awards, but it would’ve been nice to have him there to mourn her defeat.

She answered back something simple. Something along the lines of, okay that’s fine. And it was. There wasn’t an ounce of her that was angry at Darcy for that. She knew he was her biggest fan.

Notes

"Sleep Without You" by Brett Young

HAPPY STANLEY CUP PLAYOFFS Y'ALL