Conversations with Charlie

Chapter 2 Charlie/Mac

It was almost 10 PM by the time Mac made her way up to Charlie's office. He hadn't summoned her up after the disastrous broadcast but she figured it was only a matter of time. She was fully prepared to fall on the sword and take full responsibility for everything, even though it had truly been a group effort.

When she got off the elevator she could see Charlie was at his desk intently looking at his computer. His ever present glass of bourbon was on the desk next to him. As she knocked lightly and stepped into the room she could see what was holding his attention, an online poker game.

"Gambling away your retirement?" Mac teased as plopped down in the chair across from her boss.

"No, I'm actually ahead," Charlie smirked as he pulled off his reading glasses and reached for his drink. "For now," he added with a little laugh. "What's up?"

"What's up? Did you not watch television between 8 and 9 tonight?" Mac asked her voice rising just a bit.

"Of course I did," Charlies answered simply as he tugged at his bowtie a little.

"And?"

"Somebody fucked up, or I supposed many, many people fucked up."

"It was a group effort, that's for sure," Mac explained. "Why haven't you called me up to yell at me?"

"Because I know you and I knew you'd eventually wander up here. But not to get yelled at about the broadcast."

"Wait, what? You're not pissed about it?" Mac asked, starting to get rather confused.

"Of course I'm pissed," Charlie stated as he pushed himself out of his chair to refill his glass. "Want one?" he asked.

"Please," Mac responded, not sure where the conversation was headed. She took the glass Charlie held out to her and clinked it against his in a wordless toast. "So if I didn't come up here to get yelled at, why did I come?"

"Probably to ask me if I'd gotten any strange emails today," Charlie teased lightly as he leaned back in his chair, propping his feet up on the desk.

"Oh God," she whispered as she set the glass down and put her head in her hands. Of course Charlie had gotten the email. It seemed like the entire population of North America had gotten it.

"Yeah, oh God. I assume you had an email mishap and you didn't really plan on sending that email to everyone."

"Of course that's what happened," Mac shrieked as she spilled a bit of her drink. She jumped up out of her seat and quickly wiped a hand over her skirt. Charlie just chuckled a little as he grabbed a napkin out of his desk drawer. Mac wiped off his desk and tossed the napkin in the wastebasket. She tipped back the glass and drained it.

"Want another?" Charlie asked as he pointed to her now empty glass. She declined his offer with a small shake of her head. He put his feet back up on his desk and settled his hands in his lap, waiting.

Mac eventually took a deep breath and started talking.

"People had the wrong impression about Will. They thought he was an ass," she began as she brushed her hair out of her eyes.

"I'm not sure that's the wrong impression," Charlie snorted.

"I know. But in the context of our relationship, I was the ass, not Will," Mac explained. "I cheated on him. He was a wonderful man and I threw away our relationship for someone who wasn't worth it. I can barely live with what I did to him. I can't live with people thinking he cheated on me."

"And what does Will think about this?"

"We talked about it recently and he was fine with people not knowing the truth. He didn't care if people thought he was the one who cheated. But I did. However the email thing was an accident, it really was."

"I don't suppose Will believes that," Charlie guessed.

"I think deep down he does believe it, he knows how technology and I have our differences."

"True," Charlie agreed. "But I think he's embarrassed by the whole thing. And I don't blame him. My God, the man is one big ego. He wants to be larger than life and for one hour a night, he is. If people know you cheated on the Almighty William Duncan McAvoy, he doesn't look so almighty. He looks…"

"Human," Mac whispered. "Where do we go from here?"

"Professionally, I think you're doing just fine, tonight's show notwithstanding. Personally, I think you both need to decide what you want."

"I don't know what I want," Mac admitted as she swiped at her eyes.

Charlie handed her his handkerchief. "It's clean," he assured her. "I know Will doesn't know what he wants either."

"So what should I do?" Mac asked.

"Don't force things. Let things evolve naturally. Focus on the show, things will work out. You'll see," Charlie declared as he stood up and moved to lean against the front of the desk, next to Mac.

Mac eyed him warily. "Is this the bourbon talking?" she teased.

"Quite possibly. But it could also be decade's worth of experiences and relationships, good and bad."

"Funny, coming from a man who has been happily married for almost half a century," Mac teased as she stood up. She set the handkerchief on the desk and tucked her hair behind her ears.

Charlie stood up straight and put his hands on her shoulders. "Stop screwing up my show," he said with a grin and a quick kiss to her forehead.

"Yes, boss," Mac replied with a kiss to his cheek.

Charlie watched her leave and sent up a silent prayer that things would work out all around. He gathered his things and headed for the elevator, ready to put to rest another long day.