Chapter One/Part One – Three Years Ago
"What do you mean, you can't go? We always go. This is our one weekend a year where we get together and chase women and drink beer and watch hockey…" Bass is truly disappointed as he talks into the phone.
"Listen, you know I'd go if I could. It's not like I planned an appendectomy. Believe me, I'd much rather be drinking beer with you at the rink. The nurses here aren't even cute." Miles says with a sigh.
Bass has lived in Philly since leaving Chicago for law school two decades earlier. Miles still lives in the Windy City where he runs his own private investigation firm. He and Miles have remained close over the years in spite of the fact that they live in different cities. Bass always looks forward to the one weekend a year that he and Miles get together to drink and party and womanize. For that one weekend, it's just like old times.
But not this year. "Well, shit. What am I supposed to do with your ticket?"
"I got that figured out. Charlie's coming. In fact, she's on her way. You will need to pick her up at the airport at four."
"Charlie? Ben's girl? What the hell does she know about hockey? She's a fucking kid.. and a girl." Bass is not happy about this development at all.
Miles chuckles, "First of all, I bet she knows as much about hockey as you do. Secondly, she's twenty-one, so she's no kid."
"Twenty-one? Ah hell." Bass groans. At forty-two, that sounds awful damn young to him.
"Just pick her up, Dickhead. I think you two will have fun if you give each other a chance."
It's just past four and Bass is standing at the airport, waiting for Charlie to emerge from the secured arrival gates at Philadelphia International Airport.
Bass loves the Flyers and Miles is a diehard Blackhawks fan, so for the past twenty years, they have arranged to meet in whichever city is hosting the matchup that year. This year is Philly's turn, and Bass is pretty depressed that their annual guy's weekend is being ruined by a ruptured appendix and Miles's kid niece.
He searches the latest group to emerge from the gate. He remembers Charlie from when she was a little kid but hasn't seen her in ages and has no idea what she looks like now. Miles said she loves hockey so she could be a hockey heifer, one of those great big girls who wear the hockey sweaters and no make-up. Or she could be one of the hockey honeys. They always annoy him even more than the big girls who look like they could go out and play. The honeys dress like they're going to the club instead of a game.
Bass is pondering which of these two categories Charlie might fall into when he sees a vision. She's maybe 5' 7" and slender with long toned legs tightly encased in faded jeans. She's wearing a fitted Blackhawks long sleeved tee shirt and leather boots that lace up mid-calf. Her hair is dirty blond and hangs in long loose curls almost to her ass.
"Holy fuck." Bass mutters, realizing instantly that this is Charlie. Miles hadn't been joking. She's no kid. She's also no hockey heifer and certainly no hockey honey. No, Miles's niece is nothing but hockey hotness. Bass runs a hand nervously through his curls. "Damn."
The girl is searching the crowd and when her glance falls on him, she takes note of the Flyers hoodie he's wearing and smirks. "You must be Monroe." She says as she approaches. "Miles said you were a pussy Flyers fan."
Bass can't help but smile back. Her blue eyes are dancing with mischief and she's even prettier up close than he'd expected. "Guilty as charged regarding my loyalty to the Flyers, but I assure you I am not a pussy. I'm guessing Miles meant to say 'pussy magnet'."
Charlie throws her head back and laughs. Bass feels a stirring in his balls. Shit. This is worse than he thought. She's not only hot, but she has a wicked sense of humor and likes to trash talk. Could she be any sexier? He's guessing no.
They head toward the exit. She pulls a battered leather jacket from her backpack and shrugs it on, seemingly not fazed by the cold wind that greets them. He notes a silver bracelet that she wears on her wrist. It is a series of narrow chains, and from the links hang an assortment of charms. "What's that?" he asks, pointing at her wrist.
"Charm bracelet. Miles got it for me when I was a little kid. I add a charm whenever something big happens in my life." The wind picks up then and the conversation stalls as Bass leads her toward a cab and they get in. He gives the cabbie an address and they're off.
"Miles said you're a lawyer?" She sounds skeptical.
"Yeah, I am."
"Just not a very good one?" Charlie arches an eyebrow.
"Uh, what do you mean?"
"Well, we're taking a cab? Shouldn't you be tooling around in a Mercedes or something equally obnoxious?"
Bass chuckles, "I have a Jeep at home. I usually drink a lot at games, so I take a cab. That okay?" When she nods thoughtfully, he adds, "I'm a damn good lawyer, thank you very much. I just don't drink and drive."
"Whatever you say." She's smirking again and he just shakes his head.
"So, what do you do?"
"Just graduated from college. Don't do anything yet."
The game itself is a lot more fun than Bass could have even imagined. Charlie is a fiercely devoted fan. She trash talks anyone around her who is stupid enough to make a comment about the Chicago team. She drinks just as much beer as Bass does. She yells at the players and screams at the refs. She sings along with the music on the loud speaker. It is when a fight breaks out on the ice and Charlie jumps up with such intense excitement on her face that Bass knows he's done for. When a Blackhawk goon beats the snot out of one of the Flyers, she reaches over and wraps her arms around Bass in a celebratory hug.
He shouldn't be celebrating his own guy getting clobbered, but damn if she doesn't feel good in his arms. He's had just enough to drink that he blames the alcohol for the way his hands slide down to cup her ass. She looks up at him with that big grin and he doesn't even think about it.
He kisses her.
This is the turning point of the evening because Charlie is clearly passionate about a lot more than hockey. She is surprised at first when he kisses her, but just for a second. She responds with vigor, sliding her tongue between his lips. "Mmmm." She says with a sexy wink. "You taste so good."
"You too." He says, surprised to find he's suddenly quite glad Miles couldn't come after all. The rest of the game is spent flirting and touching between plays. By the time the game is over, Bass doesn't even care that his beloved Flyers have lost. She drags him to the souvenir shop and buys a Flyers pennant.
"What's that for?" he asks, suspicious of her motives.
"Target practice." She answers with a grin.
They get another cab and Bass is ready to rattle off his address when Charlie stops him. "I want to see the bell." She says. "Please?"
"The bell? The Liberty Bell?" Bass is truly surprised. There is a lot more to Charlie than hot hockey fan. Bass is a history buff and often visits the park where the bell is located. When she nods eagerly, he redirects the driver to Independence Hall and the park across the street where the Liberty Bell is displayed behind glass.
They get out of the cab and it is immediately clear that the air is much colder than it had been even an hour earlier. Charlie is not deterred. The park is lit with twinkle lights for the upcoming holiday. It is beautiful and serene. "I love this." She says, grabbing his arm and pulling him along.
They get as close as they can to the glass enclosure which houses the bell. Charlie squeals with delight and begins to gush about the Revolutionary War and early American history. Bass can only smile at her enthusiasm. When she asks if he comes here often, he has to shake his head. "Years ago maybe. Not much lately. Civil War is my favorite era anyway."
The wander around the little park and even across the street to see Independence Hall, but they are shooed away by a diligent security guard. "We should call it a night, maybe?" Bass asks, his lips pressing against her ear. "Where are you staying?"
"Your bed, if there's room?" She answers with a seductive grin.
"This just might be your lucky day…. I have a vacancy." He flirts back.
They go back to their cab (Bass had paid the guy to wait) and soon they are on their way to Bass's townhouse. When they get there, Bass throws a wad of bills at the driver and pulls Charlie out of the car and up his entry steps.
The door had barely closed behind them when Charlie vaults herself at Bass, wrapping those long legs around his waist. He doesn't complain, navigating the way to his room without the aid of sight. She is kissing him like her life depends on it. Bass isn't going to complain about that either.
Finally they make it to his room and he pushes her off long enough to yank at her shirt. Underneath she wears a sexy red lace push up bra. Her tits are perfect handfuls and Bass groans as he fills his palms with the lace covered globes. Charlie moans even as she reaches for his hoodie. He steps away and pulls it off along with the tee shirt he's wearing below.
"Oh shit." Charlie says, leaning in and licking him from belly button to nipple. It is clear that neither of them is interested in delaying the inevitable here. In moments boots and jeans are gone and they are down to underwear. Charlie's tiny panties match her bra. Bass's black boxer briefs do nothing to hide what waits below. They tumble into the bed and his mouth is on hers. He tries to slow things down but Charlie is having none of it. She reaches for the bulge in his shorts and begins to firmly stoke his erection through the fabric.
"You in a hurry?" Bass asks, biting lightly at her jaw.
"Only to get started…then you can take your time."
"Oh hell." Bass mutters, yanking his briefs off as she pulls off her panties. He reaches between her legs, finding her sex slippery with need. "You sure?" he asks, hoping she's going to say yes.
She says yes. "Now, damnit. Now! Now!"
He sinks into her heat, relishing the way she tightly sheathes him. Already bucking her hips to meet his every thrust; he decides she was kidding about taking it slow. Bass raises her arms high over her head and then begins to pump forcefully. Without missing a beat, he dips in to take her lips with his own in a feverish kiss.
Charlie is a screamer and Bass is quite happy that his neighbors are out of town for the weekend. She is not shy in bed, ordering him into new positions and telling him to go faster or harder or deeper. Bass is in heaven. She is an absolute firecracker in the sack.
They've been going at it for a long time but neither one is showing any interest in slowing down. Bass is on his back and Charlie is riding him. Her tits are bouncing enticingly as she slides up and down his thick cock. She sees a change in him and smiles. Reaching behind, she strokes his balls ever so softly. At the same time, she slows her rhythm. This new pace and the feel of her fingertips on his balls almost breaks Bass apart. He finds her clit with his thumb and begins to rub it with one hand while the other squeezes and kneads her breast.
That's it for Charlie. She cries out as she comes, her pussy clamping down on his dick like a vice.
"Holy shit!" Bass follows right behind, not even registering that he's not bothered to ask if she's on birth control.
She seems to read his mind. "No worries." She pants. "On the pill."
"K." He says, just as breathless as she.
Charlie leans back a little, watching him through hooded eyes. "That was pretty amazing."
"Yeah, it was." He chuckles, "Not what I expected when Miles said you'd be here in his place, but I'm not complaining."
She frowns a little. "Let's not say anything to him, all right?" Charlie bites her lip. "I wasn't planning on this…on you. I just graduated last week and I was kind of obsessed with my studies for the last few years. Haven't had much time for fun…"
"I think you made up for it tonight." He grins, "Don't worry. THIS is not something I'll be telling your Uncle about."
"Good. Want to do it again?" She's still seated over his hips with his now soft dick still deep inside. She wiggles just a bit.
"Jesus Charlie. I'm not eighteen. Give me a few minutes." At her pout, he laughs. "Yes. Yes I want to do it again. Just not right this second."
"Fine." She watches him intently for a moment. "Let's play a game."
"Okay?" He's leery.
"What am I?" She raises her hands high, clasping them in the air above her head. She smirks at his blank stare. "How about now?" Slowly she begins to sway, her hands moving back and forth as her body follows.
He can't tear his eyes off her tits. "Uh, I don't know."
She laughs, "Okay, but if you don't get it this time, I think we're done here."
"I'm trying, but this is the most distracting game of charades I've ever been involved in. Cut me some slack."
"Fine. Here's your last chance." She begins to sway again. Her hands still high. Her breast still swinging back and forth enticingly. She trains her eyes on his and speaks slowly, "Ding. Ding. Ding."
Bass laughs from his gut, "You're the fucking Liberty Bell!" he says.
Charlie grins and drops down so that her lips are just barely touching his. "See? You're great at charades." She wiggles her pelvis just a little and Bass's smile fades as his cock springs to life, still buried deep in her heat.
"God, Charlie. You're going to kill me."
"Not yet." She begins to ride him again, slowly this time. "Got plans for you this weekend."
They spent the rest of the weekend in bed. Neither one could remember ever being so well matched physically. Neither pretended they had a future though. The distance was too great, not to mention the whole Miles issue.
Just hours before he would have to take her to the airport, Bass and Charlie are eating fresh fruit in bed. "You never told me…"
"What?" she asks, popping a grape into her mouth.
"What you went to school for?"
She nods, "Criminal Justice. Minor in Psychology."
"Really? What are you going to do with that?"
"Starting the Academy next week."
"The Police Academy?" Bass is truly impressed, but also curious, "Why college? Couldn't you have just gone straight to the Academy?"
"Could have, but I want to do more than that. Someday I want to work for the FBI. I figure five years or so with the force will help me." Charlie shrugs. "We'll see."
"Well, if I'm ever in Chicago and get pulled over by you…" He leans in, pulling her close for one more round, "I'll surrender. That's a promise."
Chapter One/Part Two – Now
Bass stares out of the window in his corner office. The Chicago skyline is hypnotizing, even two years after moving back, he still gets lost in the beauty of the city below.
Now that he's made partner at the firm, things should really be looking up. He should be happy. He's not. Bass's mind rolls back around to the biggest problem he's facing. His partners couldn't be more different if they tried. Frank Blanchard is a work horse and the kind of lawyer who does whatever he can to win. Tom Neville is a weasel who does whatever he can to look like he is an amazing lawyer without practicing much actual law. Bass knows Blanchard is the reason that Bass is a partner, but he also knows that his future at this firm rides on this latest case he's been assigned. If the Andover merger doesn't go as planned, Neville will use that failure to leverage Bass out.
Bass glances down at the brand new business card in his hand. "Blanchard, Neville & Monroe. Attorneys at Law." He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. If only things were going as planned, but Bass has discovered something very wrong. He is worried that he has a mole on staff – someone who is feeding Neville information. Bass is sure that Neville, in turn, is passing that info on to Titus Andover. There is no other way that the opposition would be privy to every move Bass plans.
The phone rings and Bass answers immediately, "Miles?"
"Yeah Bass. I got your message."
"Can you come in and do some undercover work for me? Sniff around?"
"You know I'm running a legitimate Private Investigation firm here. I don't just go snoop for fun. Do you have proof?"
"Yeah. I wrote a memo that includes some facts which aren't really facts. I left it on my desk. Today Andover mentioned two of the 'facts' in a deposition. Someone is feeding him intel. They're out to get me."
Miles sighs heavily, "Fine. I'll help, but it won't be me personally who infiltrates your firm."
"Why the hell not?"
"I'm in the hospital. Herniated disk."
"You have got to be kidding me." Bass feels dejavu. "So who's going to help me?"
"Send your secretary on a paid vacation. Charlie will report for duty in the morning. She'll be posing as your secretary's temporary replacement for a week minimum, or as long as it takes."
Bass feels the color drain from his face. "Charlie?"
"Yeah, Charlie – my niece. You remember her, right?"
"Yeah. I remember." Bass sits heavily in his office chair, as images of Miles's beautiful niece fill his head.
"She can use the distraction. She's finally back on her feet. She's working for me now, but she's still not quite herself…"
Bass has no idea what Miles is referring to. "What do you mean? What happened?"
"Shit. Hey Bass. The nurse is here. I'll call you tomorrow, okay? Just remember. Send your secretary on vacation. You can tell the office she got hurt or a family member is sick. Whatever. Just clear the way for Charlie, okay?"
"Got it Miles. Thanks."
Bass hangs up his phone, his mind somewhere else entirely. He wonders what Miles meant when he said Charlie isn't quite herself. What the hell had happened to her?
When Bass had moved back from Philly a couple years ago, he'd asked Miles about Charlie. At that time, she was a police officer and doing well. Bass had been on the verge of asking for her number (to hell with Miles and his temper) when Miles had mentioned a serious boyfriend - someone she'd met at Police Academy. Bass hadn't asked about her again. Clearly those nights in Philly had meant far more to him than they had to her.
Bass is staring at the business card again, when he remembers something else. He reaches into his front pocket and retrieves his house keys. Instead of a regular decorative key fob, he keeps only one non-key item on his ring. It is a sterling silver charm, like a girl might wear on a charm bracelet. It is a small replica of the Liberty Bell and Bass has been carrying it in his pocket for almost three years. He closes his fingers around the keys, blocking his own view of the trinket.
Tomorrow. He's going to see her tomorrow. Bass lets out a shaky breath, suddenly realizing that his problems at the office might soon be the least of his worries.
A/N: First of all, a HUGE thank you to Romeo for the prompt that I swear to God you will actually see in play within this fic soon. Secondly, thanks to all of you who are still giving Charloe writers some love. You mean the world to us. I'll have chapter two of this up within the week and another installment of Charlie's Journal as well. Please leave a comment if you have a moment. -Lemon