Hey this is Crews. It has been awhile since I've written pretty much anything. I hope you like it.
This is mine.
Mistakes: no doubt.
Enjoy.

Uh Oh

Chapter 1: What the hell?

"You will behave, won't you Charlotte?" My mom asked. I could tell how nervous she was as we got out of the car and started walking up the pront path. She, however, wasn't up for any worlds greatest mother awards.

"Probably not" I said watching the stone path. She had forced me to wear stilettos and if I wasn't careful I was going to fall and break my neck. Come to think of it, she probably made me wear them so I couldn't run. That is exactly something my mom would think to do. I could hit myself. Maybe right in the eye so as to leave a mark. That would give me a killer excuse not to go to this stupid work related party and not have to deal with her boss and her friends. I don't know nor do I care to know them. Not like she cares. No, she conned me into the stilettos and conned me into going to her party, but I got the last laugh. With the open-toed death traps I had on my feet, I was wearing my customary dark makeup, plain black shirt and skinny jeans. No way was she going to make me look any more ridiculous than the shoes already did.

Because honestly, do you think that a girl who wears black combat boots, the sturdiest and best shoes on the planet, wouldn't look stupid in stilettos? If you think she wouldn't, you're as bad as my mother.

"Good," she said not even listening. We reached the door and she rang the doorbell. "Smiles, Charlotte. These are important people." Please.

"Yeah, why is that?" I asked smugly. I honestly didn't care about her work. Truth be told, I didn't know what it even was beside something concerning money and didn't all jobs have something to do with money? Because I work in a grocery store and all I want at the end of the week is my paycheck. See, money. Her job isn't that special.

"Because Charlotte," she started, adjusting her dress. Was it my imagination or was she showing way more cleavage than usual? I mean, she's not conservative, but this slutty? "They'll soon be family."

"What do you mean," I asked sharply, actually having paid attention for once. I have to say, twice in one night, that was impressive. What is wrong with me? Before I could get an explanation from her, the door opened.

"Welcome," a tall, muscular man said quietly. His body took up the entirety of the doorway, his dark hair pulled back to the nape of his neck with an elastic band. He looked more like a body guard than a doorman. Hell, a former wrestler gone free lance, maybe even hitter for the mafia. He was HUGE! "Liz and Charlotte I presume?"

"Yeah, what of it?" I retorted rudely. I'll admit, the guy was intimidating but honestly, this is me we're talking about. No way in hell was I going to make it public knowledge that this guy scared me. I know, I really shouldn't be embarrassed or anything because most people probably wouldn't want this guy on their bad side either, but I'm not most people. I have to hide anything that my mother can use against me. Any simple fact about me she quickly turns into blackmail, holding her leverage over me to make me do whatever she wants. And you wonder why I hate her?

"Yes sir," my mom answered politely, giving me a warning glare. Like she scared me.

"Please come in."

My mom grabbed my arm and dragged me into the house. The door was shut behind us with an ominous click. What the hell was I getting myself into?

No, what the hell was my mom getting me into? I didn't want to be here! Walking into the house made me feel like freaking Alice falling down the rabbit hole, only I knew that nothing cool would be waiting for me here.

I was right.

Right off the bat, I met four people, their faces running together to form a fifth man that I still didn't know. Names and ranks entered one ear and left the other. I wanted to die on the spot. If it hadn't been for my mom's vice-like grip on my arm, I would have run straight back out the door. On second thought, I would have probably snaked the keys from her first. That would have been smarter. Better to peal out the driveway like a bat outta hell in a car than trying to run in stilettos. You know, even if the driveway was littered in glass and other sharp objects, I probably still would have taken off the shoes and run. Being here was a worse form of torture.

"Liz," I said. I never called her mom out loud. She could use that against me. "Liz, I need to go to the bathroom." It took a moment, but I finally successfully got her attention long enough for her to release me and point me in the right direction. I didn't want to know how she knew.

Finally free, I made my way in the opposite direction of my mother, heading for one of many closed doors that I prayed was a closet.

It wasn't. It was a bedroom, sparsely furnished though I had to say I liked it. Everything was black: the wood of the bed and the desk, the comforter and the upholstery on the chair. I was in love with this room. I quickly shut the door behind me, turning the lock with a soft click. I turned and pressed my back to the door, sliding down until I was sitting on the floor.

The stilettos came off. I was so sick of them that instead of unfastening them, I more or less ripped them off my feet. I was willing to take my chances outside. No matter is their were rocks or glass, those god awful contraption would not be going on my feet again. I breathed a sigh of relief as I chucked them across the floor.

"Nice shoes," a voice said softly.

I jumped to my feet in surprise, looking around the room. There hadn't appeared to be anyone in the room. Where had it come from?

"I'm over hear," the voice continued, a guy coming out a door I had assumed to be a closet. I was really off on thinking what was and wasn't a closet tonight, wasn't I? "I didn't mean to scare you."

The way he said I didn't mean to scare you turned my shock to anger. Who the hell did this smug bastard think he was? Sounding like he scared everyone…

"You didn't scare me, asshole," I retorted standing in place. I had locked myself in a room with an unknown, yet very attractive, guy, my shoes thrown over near him. I could leave them in here, just return to the party. It was something else my mom could use.

"Why are you in here?" he asked. He was very cute. His dark hair lay in precise disarray, a messy look that suited him. He was also wearing a black shirt, his a button down, and dark jeans. And his eyes! They were bright green, so bright that I could tell the color from far away, outlined in…

"Are you wearing eyeliner?" I blurted out. Yep, that's me, miss smooth.

He frowned in confusion. It definitely hadn't been what he expected me to say. Hell, I would have been confused. If I had been asking what he was doing here and he had said do you like fish? I would have been confused beyond belief.

"Yes," he recovered quickly, though the surprise at the question never left his face. "Are you going to answer my question?"

"Probably not," I automatically responded. Hey, give me a break, I had been working on my personality for years. One very hot guy wouldn't change it.

"Probably not?" he asked, his eyebrows rising in surprise. What was this guy's problem? Had he never met anyone who mouthed off before?

We both stared at each other, his eyes calculating, mine just going over him inch by inch. Did I mention he is hot? Well, its worth mentioning a hundred million times over. Oh. My. God.

"Well, if you won't answer that one," he finally spoke, pulling me back to reality. I had zoned out staring at his wonderful face. "Will you answer another?"

It was now my turn to be surprised. Everyone I had said no to before had threatened me, ignored me or gotten mad. Not this guy. He asked if he could ask another question and if I would answer it. Huh.

"Fine," I mumbled, attitude still intact. I crossed my arms, waiting. "Well?"

He stared at me like I was the most interesting thing in the world.

"Why did you throw your shoes at me?" he asked, his face completely serious. He had stepped farther forward, swiftly reaching down and taking hold of one of my shoes. He straightened, dangling it by the strap wrapped around his finger.

"I didn't mean to," I said, stepping forward to take it from him. "I didn't know you were in here." I held my hand out and he dropped it into my hand. "I hate these shoes."

"Really? I thought you looked wonderful in them," he said, grabbing the other and handing it to me. I snorted.

"Yeah, they look great, but they're not good for walking in."

"What's your name?" he asked. We were standing right in front of each other now. Shoes in hand, I stared up into his irresistible eyes. One more step and we would be close enough to kiss. Just one more step…

What the hell was wrong with me! I backed up quickly, banging into the door. He didn't move.

"Sorry bub, you only asked for an answer to the other question. No more."

"Michael."

"What?" I asked confused.

"My name is not 'bub', it is Michael."

"Well, it's great to meet you Michael, but I gotta split," I said, reaching for the doorknob. I turned the lock and pushed out of the room, leaving Michael behind as I became once more swept up in the party crowd.

"There you are Charlotte! I've been looking for you everywhere!" My mom said, grabbing hold of my arm once more. "Where have you been? Why aren't you wearing shoes?" She didn't give me time to answer.

"Charlotte, I have someone I want you to meet," she said, dragging me forward. Barefoot, I had to maneuver quickly in order to avoid getting my toes squished under all the feet in massive shoes. Being dragged, this was no easy feet, and twice I came close to losing toes.

"Ah!" she said, dragging me to a halt. "There he is."

He?

She began frantically waving at someone, though I couldn't see them through the crowd. How many people could fit in one house? I swear there had to be a thousand people crammed in there at least!

"Zane! Over here!" my mother called, still waving. I felt my stomach drop. I had a very bad feeling about this.

At last, a man who had to be around my mother's age stepped forward.

"Liz, how nice to see you!" the man, Zane, boomed. He was as massive as the man who had opened the door. Yep, this just confirmed it. They were both a part of the mafia. Great. What the hell was my mom getting into?

"Of course Zane! It's wonderful to see you too!" she leaned forward, kissing him on each cheek. "Zane, this is my daughter Charlotte, the one I've been telling you about."

Oh god, didn't that sound ominous?

"Hello Charlotte, it is very nice to meet you." The way he said it sounded sincere. He looked like an okay guy. Apart from the intimidating size, he had a nice face with a mustache. His hair was a mass of salt and pepper strands. He even looked nice. What was he doing hanging out with my mom?

"Whatever," I answered. He raised his brows, turning to my mother.

"You weren't kidding."

"Not at all," she answered with a sigh. Zane looked studied my mother with concern, eventually turning his attention back to me.

"If I am correct, you are a very blunt person. Therefore, I will not soften this blow. Charlotte, I want you to meet my son. You two will be very happy together. The wedding is set. You have six weeks."

"Wedding! I gasped. Whatever bad thing I had been expecting, this was a hundred times worse! How could I be getting married? To a stranger no less! This couldn't be happening. Could this get any worse?

Of course. Because from behind Zane stepped the one person that could make this worse.

Michael.