Single in the City

A Sex & the City spinoff

By Hart of Darkness

Episode 1

Part 1

She had never anticipated the call to come, but when it had, it had taken her aback so much she had to sit down on a chair as her legs folded, and had she not had a chair at hand, she would have ended up butt first on the tiled floor of her parent's kitchen.

Now, watching the large, open space solution that the New York apartment offered, she had to pinch herself several times to make sure she wasn't dreaming – that she wouldn't wake up and find herself in her old childhood room at her parents ranch in New Mexico…

There was an open kitchen to her right, separated from the spacious living room only by a bar counter in natural stone. Right to the left of the front door, in which she was still standing, was the entrance to the big bathroom, with an old typed bathtub on lion's feet and an antique mirror taking up most of the wall. Had she had a habit of not being alone in the tub, the mirror might have been exciting in more then one way, but Charisma Moreland had to admit that compared with others, she was as dull as watching paint dry. Only time she had shared a bathtub with someone else was when she had been 5 and her mother had thrown both her and her 6 year old male cousin into the same tub back at the ranch as they had been rolling around in mud all day. Literary.

- So, the bedroom's are this way…- the realtor announced, hurrying her up as she pressed past Charisma in the doorway and entered the big apartment.- I assume Mrs. Droughton gave you the grand tour already?

Charisma stopped staring at the mirror and looked at the realtor. She was in her mid 30's, her forehead never moved and her lips reminded Charisma of the type of bottle you use to clean the toiled – with a little pouty beak to fit in under the seat…

-No, actually, we hardly ever met.- she replied. The realtor did her best to frown.

- I don't think I understand.- she declared when her attempts to wrinkle her Botoxed forehead failed miserably.

Charisma pulled the strap of her old bag higher up on her shoulder and walked into the apartment, her apartment, taking it all in.

- She fell on the street the other day, and I helped her up. Got get groceries for her, hailed her a cab… paid the cabbie to walk her to her front door.- she confessed slowly as her eyes traveled up and down the walls. It must be, what, over 1000 square feet! God knows how much the rent would land on…

- You helped her out?- the realtor asked, sounding like she was hearing a fairy tale somebody tried to sell her as the truth. Charisma faced the realtor and nodded.

- Yes… what's wrong with that?- she asked. The realtor glanced down her own paper and shook her head.

- Apparently, nothing at all… you help her, she helps you…- she mumbled. Charisma moved in closer.

- Sorry, I didn't catch that?- she asked. The realtor glanced up with a wide, smile as fake as her stunning white teeth. Caps. Or veneers. Charisma never knew the difference.

- Oh, nothing… who'd think that, just two days after being helped out on the street, Mrs. Droughton would keel over and die?- she said, sounding strangely happy it had actually happened.

Charisma glanced at the realtor and shrugged. The realtor stared back, then jerked, opening the folder up.

- All the legal documents are in order… please, sign on the dotted line, and this amazing place will be yours…- she replied. Charisma took the pen, but hesitated.

- I… I don't know…- she said slowly.- I don't think I could ever afford the rent…

The realtor swallowed several times, apparently trying to get rid of the taste of disgust she felt.

- The testament was clear, ms Moreland… the apartment is yours for taking… all it's going to cost you is upkeep… water, electricity… even the bell service is included in the ownership contract…- she declared coldly. Charisma looked up, faced the realtor and nodded. It was do or die. Her hand moved swiftly over the paper, jotting down her signature at the bottom of the contract.

She had lunch at a small café right by the apartment building she had left just minutes ago, leaving the realtor at the curb outside. The keys were in her purse and now she desperately needed to collect her thoughts.

It started one month ago, while she was back, living at her parents ranch, and doing local news for the small town TV station, a job she had gotten on a whims after failing to find a job worth mentioning following her masters in business administration. She had done good at Stanford, but after failing in love and with her budding career, found herself licking her wounds at her parents place. Her mother spurred her into sending an audition tape for the Bedingford news station, and she did. That had been three months ago. Then, one month ago, a New York city station called, asking her for an interview regarding the job as co-host of a new, hip NY City show that was aimed at the 20-something viewing crowd.

Charisma had not applied for any such job, and strongly suspecing her mother for trying to fix, not only her career, but also her entire life for her, went to New York. Her inability to remain cool and collected at the interview gave the producers a perfect image of a blabbing moron from a small town somewhere where even the devil's too afraid to walk alone – and she was hired. Apparently her naïvity and ranch-bred charm was going to sell in the big city.

Living hand-to-box in a crummy apartment motel and a few nights on the sofa at the network, one day Charisma ran into a little, older lady whom had fallen after being pushed by some punks on skateboards. Charisma helped out, and apparently, the lady helped her back. They had talked, Charisma had mentioned being new in town and finding it hard to find a place to stay, and apparently, keeling over the older lady had repaid Charisma for picking her off the ground.

- This is one of those things that only happens on TV!- her producer had declared, after putting out and instantly lighting up another cigarette. His hands were as nicotine stained as his teeth, and his voice sounded so scarred, he could easily dub any horror flick she knew off.

Now, here she was, keys in purse, and a thousand things spinning through her mind…

- Hey, I get that it's incredibly hard not to put nuts in a cheesecake, but if I say I'm gonna swell up like a freaking blowfish and die if I have any, you better believe it's a fact and not a preference!

Charisma glanced up, at the table a few feet away from her, and a young woman with curly red, messy hair, dressed in a emerald silk blouse and a pair of black slacks waving her spoon at a scared waitress. The waitress bowed, for no apparent reason and vanished with the plate containing a cheesecake that apparently contained nuts. The redhead calmed down, flipped her curls off her shoulder and glanced up, freezing as she found herself staring directly at Charisma.

- What? It's not!- she said out loud, shrugging, then her cell phone rung and she shifted focus onto it.

Charisma stirred her coffee and glanced out the window, onto the busy street outside and sighed. This was miles and miles away from the comfort of her own old bedroom, overlooking the stables and meadows for as far as you could see…

- Hey, listen…- the voice of the redhead woke Charisma up from thoughts, and as she glanced up, she spotted the redhead sitting down across the table from her.- If I give you my cell phone, and a guy named Derek calls, could you tell him I'm dead?

Charisma shrugged, but the redhead was looking dead serious.

- What?- she asked. The redhead sighed, like she was dealing with someone mentally challenged.

- Dead! As in breathe no more. Keeled over. Had too many nuts, swelled up and lifted into space. I don't care how I went, as long as I'm dead. To him that is, knock on wood.- she declared, putting her hand under the table and knocking onto the bottom of the tabletop.

Charisma shook her head with a smile.

- I mean, why do you want him to think you are dead?- she asked. The redhead roller her eyes.

- Oh my God, have you never had a one night stand that didn't take it for what it was, and just kept hanging around?- she asked, sounding like she was about to barf. Then she sat up, tucking the messy hair behind one ear in a futile attempt to keep it away from her pretty face and put her brown eyes straight into Charisma.- I mean, okay, the sex was amazing, but if I feel like cuddling, I get a dog, or worse, a boyfriend! A one night stand is exactly that: a one night stand. Some men just don't get that.

The cheesecake arrived and she poked her fork around in it, making sure there were no nuts anywhere in it, then nodded at the waitress, giving her a smile that more looked like a frown and stared at Charisma again.

- So will you?- she asked. Charisma looked at the redhead, but before she had a chance to say anything, the golden Dolce & Gabbana version of Motorola started to vibrate, moving across the surface of the table. Charisma caught it just at the edge, stopping it from falling to the floor and flipped the phone open.

- Hello?- she asked into the phone, suddenly curious what would come out of this.

-Langdon?- a surprised male voice across the line asked. Charisma looked at the redhead, miming "Langdon?" to her, to which the redhead nodded, once again rolling her eyes.

- No, it's not. She's dead.- Charisma replied. The guy across the line inhaled.

- What? When? How did it happen?- he asked, apparently shaken by the news.

- Just now. I killed her. I wanted her phone. It's a freaking Dolce & Gabbana.- Charisma replied, giving Langdon a wide smile.

- What?- the guy across the line exhaled, trying to make the world stop spinning.

- You bore me, I don't want to talk to you any more.- Charisma replied, flipping the phone shut. Then she slid it over the table top to Langdon and shrugged.- That was fun.

Langdon giggled.

- Oh, honey, if you think so, I have about a dozen more guys you could deliver the news of my passing on to!- she replied, shoving the phone into her black Fendi Spy bag.

Charisma and Langdon sat for a moment, staring at one another.

- So…- Charisma finally said slowly. Langdon nodded.

- Yes, I know, how the fuck names their child "Langdon". Especially since I'm a girl.- she admit to, grimacing.- My parents were… sorry, are, both psychiatrist. You might say I'm their most elaborate experiment.

Charisma giggled.

- And you are?- Langdon continued, eyeing Charisma top to toe, the part she could see above the table.

- Far away from home.- Charisma declared, sitting back with a sigh. Langdon rose one eyebrow.

- No shit, honey?- she asked teasingly.- You've got "farmers daughter" written all over you… all that's missing is a milkmaid's blouse…

Charisma sighed, grimacing at Langdon. Langdon giggled again, diabolically and dug into her cheesecake. Then she glanced up, frowning.

- I know you from somewhere!- she declared, chasing the cheesecake down with some cranberry juice.

- I'm the new "Experiencing NYC" co-host.- Charisma admit to. Only one episode had been aired so far, and the reviews had been mixed.

Langdon rolled her eyes, leaning back, wiping her mouth off with a paper napkin.

- Oh, my, God! I saw you on TV the other night, when you were trying on ice skating in Central Park…- she reminded herself stunned.- Honey, it's in the middle of the summer, there is no ice there!

- So I noticed.- Charisma replied. Then she sighed, checking her wrist watch.- Okay, there's somewhere I have to be… it was nice meeting you, Langdon, dead or alive.

She gathered her bag off the floor and threw Langdon a goodbye-smile. Langdon leaned over the back of her chair.

- Where are you off to?- she asked, both sounding and looking curious.

- I have this PR meeting with a Samantha Jones… she's supposed to make me into a NY TV personality…- Charisma replied, feeling frustrated and hopeless. Something twinkled in Langdon's eyes.

- Samantha Jones?- she asked greedily, collecting her things into her purse and rushing up. She hooked her arm into Charisma's and pulled her out onto the street, hailing a cab.- I've been dying to give her my résumé since I, like, finished college!

Samantha Jones was sitting in a modern, leather chair behind a modern, flat desk, looking bored at a modern, flat screen computer, tapping her perfectly manicured nails against the keyboard. Her friends had all moved on, Carrie to Napa, Charlotte to the Hampton and Miranda to Brooklyn, all having husbands and children, and leaving her all alone in the big city… she was all that was left of their four-some, sitting stuck in her modern office with her modern dayjob and her modern views on where she wanted to be… right now, she missed Smith Jerrod like never before. But he had gotten tiered of her not wanting to settle down, not wanting to marry him, not wanting to have kids… why didn't she want to have kids with him?

Samantha was in a serious self-doubting low when her assistant knocked on the door and announced her 2pm meeting was here. Samantha asked for five minutes, during which time she put her game face back on, calmed down and got back to her fabulous self once again. The next time the door opened, Samantha Jones looked as perfect and hot as she always did.

- Miss Moreland, accompanied by miss Evans…- the assistant, who's name Samantha had still failed to learn, announced as she let a cute brunette and a sexy redhead into the room. Samantha gritted her teeth, realizing they were both in their mid 20's, and probably half her age, and that it was their time now.

- So, which one of you is Charisma Moreland, the new NYC TV star?- she asked, blasting on a wide smile. No guys, she could put away the big guns, but still, making a star out of one of these would pay big bucks. Secretly, Samantha wished the redhead to be Charisma, she had so much more potential…

- That would be me.- the brunette announced with a big, friendly smile as she reached her hand across the desk, towards Samantha. Samantha's smile dropped.

- Oh… - a disappointed sigh escaped her. Then she recalibrated, shrugging.- Okay, I can work with this…

She eyed Charisma top to toe. The messy brown hair was unruly and filled with big, uneven curls. The face was beautiful, but too friendly. She looked like a catalogue model in her jeans and red shirt, and the purse… Samantha closed her eyes, inhaled and envisioned Charisma on the opening of a new restaurant, in a designer dress to die for, with gorgeous makeup, accentuating her features and a hairdo women would kill for. The image made her smile, widely. Then she opened her and the smile plunged, once again.

- Okay, let's get to work, girls…- she announced resigned, realizing the amount of work that laid ahead of her. But she was the best PT consultant in New York, and if she couldn't make Charisma into a star, nobody could!