Page 20 of Off Script
Though I break my promise to myself, I stay true to my promise to Carlisle, calling and texting regularly over the next few weeks. Betweenher eight-to-five work schedule and my days and nights quickly filling up with commitments in preparation for the fast-approachingCaptain Commanderpublicity tour, we’re forced fit in our talks early in the morning or late at night. Luckily, Carlisle rolls with it and doesn’t question my irregular schedule much.
Lazily, I sink into my pillow and pull up the sheets, getting comfortable for my nightly call with Carlisle.
“About time you called me, punk,” she greets me, sass and snark oozing from her voice.
“Is that anyway to speak to your dear friend?” I respond in kind.
After a slight hesitation, she asks candidly, “Is that what we are, Brent? Friends?”
“I’d like to think we are. Honestly, I don’t have a lot of good friends, and I’d like to count you as one of mine.”
“You? How do you not have a lot of friends? You're always going out to fancy dinners and meetings.”
“Those don’t count,” I correct. “They’re work obligations.”
“Still don’t want to elaborate on exactly what it is you do? Are you bartending at private parties or something?”
She pries a bit each time we talk, and I worry that my half-truths and vague answers won’t satisfy her curiosity much longer. “Something like that, Carlisle.”
“You’re not a high-end escort, are you?”
I laugh. “No, I’m not. You’re really hammering me with the hard-hitting questions tonight,” I tease before changing the subject from me to her. “How was your day? Work okay?”
“Ugh, just another day in paradise trying to avoid my boss who likes to pinch my cheeks,” she grumbles.
I narrow my eyes, slightly perplexed. “He pinches the cheeks on your face? That’s bizarre.”
“I wish,” she mutters. “No, my boss likes to play grab ass, and I swear that I spend most of my working hours playing hide and seek with him—I hide and he seeks.”
Her confession raises my hackles and jogs my memory. During our first phone conversation she described her boss as being libidinous, but I assumed she was exaggerating.
“That’s bullshit, Carlisle. You don’t need to put up with that. There are laws against that type of behavior.”
“I know, I know,” she sighs peevishly. “Forget I said anything. Please. I’m trying my best to deal with it and figure out my next step.”
“Okay, I’ll trust that you’re managing the situation but let me know if I need to beat anybody up. I’m serious, Carlisle.”
I’ve never even met this woman in person, but she brings out my protective streak. Probably because it doesn’t seem like she has a lot of people in her corner willing to protect her.
"Thanks," she whispers as her voice trembles, belying her emotions.
“You deserve better, Carlisle. Talking to you has become the highlight of my day, and I hate hearing that something bad happened to you.”
Without any prior thought, the words fall from my mouth, but I’m not embarrassed when they do. It’s the truth.
Carlisle is quiet for a few beats. “When you say things like that, I can’t help but wonder and maybe hope that there could be more developing between us. Am I stupid to hold out hope that we could become more than friends, Brent?”
Her whispered revelation guts me. Even if I was brave enough to further our relationship, how could I? From the very beginning, she’s shared openly and honestly. Meanwhile, I continue being evasive, steering the conversations in different directions and providing only half-truths when pushed.
Where do I even start to make it right?
“It’s Ben. My name is Ben,” I correct Carlisle, realizing that I want to give her something, to grant her access to some real aspect of my life, no matter how miniscule.
She draws in a sharp breath. “Why would you lie about something as simple as your first name?”
“Technically, I didn’t lie. My name is Brent Benjamin, but I go by Ben.”
Sitting up in bed, I swing my legs over the side to rest my elbows on my knees and hang my head. When I blurted out that my name was Brent during our first conversation, I never thought Carlisle would have an opportunity to find out otherwise. I never imagined that we’d form an ongoing friendship.
