Charlotte After Dark

Chapter 8

Cormac rushed to the door as I started to right myself, pulling pieces of fractured  plaster from my clothing. I pulled myself off of the floor and examined the shredded  painting that lay next to me, painfully.  

Cormac answered the door to reveal a tall, handsome man dressed in a three-piece  suit as he looked at Cormac warmly. He had an extremely jovial air abound him as he  embraced Cormac like a brother. The gentleman walked through the doorway like he was  gliding; it was almost difficult to look away from him. 

"Redecorating?" he asked as he surveyed the penthouse around him. 

"No, just her," Cormac responded, pointing towards me. 

"And who is this delicate flower?" He said, pushing through the door and past  Cormac to look at me. It made me uncomfortable as I nervously crossed my arms over  my chest, letting the destroyed painting fall to the floor and hugging myself. 

"Grey, this is Charlotte," Cormac said, gesturing towards me with his hand. 

"My, my," Charles said, bowing to me like we belonged in the court of Marie  Antoinette. He took my hands and kissed it tenderly. "You may call me Charles. Charles  Greymalkin at your service." 

I wrestled with him for the return of my hand. "Nice to meet you, Charles." 

"Don't mind him," I heard Cormac say. "He's perpetually stuck in the 19th  century." 

"The pleasure is all mine," Charles said as he ignored Cormac with a wide smile  plastered across his face. "Even if he doesn't think it's fashionable to treat a woman with  respect." 

I looked over at Cormac who was rolling his eyes and not even trying to hide it. 

Charles looked at the remains of the painting that hung from one of my hands. 

"Is that my Monet?" He asked, not really addressing his question to anyone in the  room as if it were a rhetorical question. 

"Come on, Romeo. We have things to discuss," Cormac said, pulling Charles  away from me. 

"Right," Charles said, pulling out a small book of bound parchment. He looked at  me briefly. "In front of her?" 

"It doesn't matter," Cormac said, brushing him off. "Everything I tell her goes in  one ear and out the other anyway." 

I shot Cormac and icy look, but if he saw it he certain made it seem like he didn't  care. 

"I have a lot of news," Charles started, finding a seat in the living room as  Cormac poured a glass from the bar. He offered it first to Charles, who politely declined  it, before drinking it himself. 

"So speak then," Cormac responded after taking a sip. 

Charles glanced over towards me. "Does she take commands or is she really that  terrified of you?" 

"I wouldn't call it 'terrified' it's more of an indignant way of showing her  displeasure." 

Charles looked at Cormac with a bemused look on his face, similar to the ones my  father used to give me before lecturing me. "Is that so?" Charles asked. 

"I don't like him very much," I piped up, causing Charles to laugh. 

"You two truly are an odd couple. Where did you find her?" 

"I wouldn't use the term find, it's more like being stricken with a disease that  ruins million dollar paintings and steals your living space," Cormac sighed. 

"You're no piece of cake either," I replied, crossing my arms angrily.  

Cormac once again rolled his eyes as Charles sweetly patted the portion of the  couch beside him. Reluctantly I passed by Cormac into the openness of the living room to  plop myself next to Charles dramatically.