Charlie blinked, then blinked again. Then, she all but shrieked, "How the fuck did you find me?" Stalking over to him, she got into his face, a little surprised by how much taller he seemed today. She didn't let it bother her. "Are you following me?"

"I don't know about following," he said, looking down at her calmly. "You said you volunteered at a hospital. It didn't take a genius level IQ to figure out that you probably worked at the hospital tied into LSU."

Her mouth gaped open, but then she shook herself like a pissed cat and jabbed her finger into his chest. "Dude, I don't care how you found me. My point is I can't afford court fees to get a restraining order, so you need to leave me the hell alone."

He sighed, knocking her hand away gently. "I want to help you."

She barked out a caustic laugh. "You did. Last night was great. But that's literally all I want from you. You can leave now. I'll just be a fun memory for when you're trapped in your next miserable marriage."

His mouth quirked up at the side. "What?"

"Never mind." She shook her head. "You need to leave."

"I'll leave if you agree to have dinner with me tonight. I have a proposal you might find... advantageous."

"Oh." She sighed, shaking her head. "Okay. Let me get out the white board." Pretending to doodle in midair, she said, "We spent a night together. It was fun. It does not give you the right to turn into a creepy stalker and follow me to my place of work." She waved her hand. "Volunteerism, whatever."

He cocked his head, eyes narrowing slightly. She kept going, dropping her hands to her hips. "I don't care what kind of offer you have. I'm not interested."

With that, she spun around, intending to stalk back toward Jazira, furious that most of her break had been wasted by this nut-bar. 

"Even if I can help you with your money problems?" His deep voice followed her across the small yard, the words wrapping slickly around her, pulling her to a halt. "Among others."

She met Jazira's gaze, who was standing up. She shook her head, and Charlie closed her eyes briefly, before turning slowly. The scent from the angel trumpets around them was too sweet.

He smiled like he'd won something. "We talked about it last night. You seemed fairly agreeable to it then."

Rolling her eyes, she said, "I was drunk. I was also agreeable to a lot of other things. Doesn't mean I, you know, meant them."

His smile turned to a little smirk, and she knew he was thinking about it too. "Regardless, you're not drunk now."

"Which makes it even more unlikely than it already is that I'll do anything with you." She wasn't sure she'd meant to put emphasis on 'anything'.

He strode across the six feet between them, but she refused to back up when he stood right in front of her. Leaning down, he whispered in her ear, "Meet me at Brennan's tonight at eight. I'm not even asking you to agree to anything, just hear me out?"

Charlie waffled hard. She couldn't do this.

She couldn't fail.

He straightened up, looking down at her. She touched her tongue to her upper lip, then rasped, "What's your name?"

He gave her a mock hurt look. "You sayin' you don't remember?"

All she did was narrow her eyes. 

With a charming smile, he bowed his head in a small acknowledgement. "Remi," he said, the word rolling off his tongue, his heritage showing in two small syllables. 

She rolled her eyes. "You're not Cher. Your first name doesn't mean anything to me."

"Hopefully neither will my last name," he said cheerfully, making her frown. "To be fair, I only know your first name."

That kind of unruffled her feathers. Reluctantly, she said, "I'll think about it."

"That's all I want." He smiled, starting to turn away.

"And what if I don't show up?" she called. Something about this man made her want to push him a little. Just to see what would happen.

He stopped at the gate. His head cocked to the side, his back still to her. "Then I guess you'll never know what I wanted to say."

Curiosity instantly flared inside her, hot and dangerous.  

Without another word, he disappeared behind the ivy-covered wall, leaving her standing there, wondering what in the hell had just happened. She jumped nearly a foot in the air when Jazira touched her shoulder.

Whirling around, she asked, "Did that just happen?"

"If you're asking did you just agree to have dinner with your one-night stand, who somehow found you here, then the answer is yes, yes it did." Jazira was looking at her with wide eyes, but her hand trembled against Charlie's shoulder.

 Squeezing her eyes shut, she muttered, "Technically I didn't agree to do anything."

"So does that mean you won't go?" Jazira asked hopefully. "Because I really don't think you should."

"Why?" Charlie frowned, then shook her head at herself.

The real question was why was she even considering it? There were a million reasons why she shouldn't go, and only about half a reason as to why she should.

Jazira gave her a stern look. "Because he gave me the creeps, that's why."

"He did?" she asked blankly, eyes going back to the wrought-iron gate he had disappeared through.

"You're saying something about him doesn't feel a little off to you?" Jazira scoffed. When Charlie's only response was to shrug, she threw her hands up into the air, then looked at her watch. Groaning, she said, "I'm back on duty. Charlie, promise me you aren't going to even think about that guy."

She blinked once. Her mind was still scrambling through what happened and didn't allow for a more sophisticated answer than that.

"Just go get your stuff from Grayson's, then you can stay with me and Miles, okay?" Jazira said.

This made Charlie raise an eyebrow. "There's barely enough room for you two in that apartment."

They started walking toward the gate, going back toward the entrance to the hospital. Jazira gave her a pained look, but Charlie waved her off. "I've got some money squirreled away from my jobs last summer. I can manage for a little while until I figure out something that's a little more permanent."

"Permanent and not involving Creepy Stalker, right?" Jazira stared at her, eyes wide and pleading. 

Her slim fingers clasped around Charlie's wrist, and she knew that her friend wanted a promise.

"I won't go meet Creepy Stalker," Charlie said, her heart shuddering in protest. While lying to Grayson had become easier with time, lying to Jazira was something painful to her. 

Jazira narrowed her eyes, but when Charlie continued to hold her gaze, she smiled, and said, "Good. You don't need anything from him anyway, Char. I told you, we'll figure it out. Okay?"

"I know." Charlie gave her a quick hug before starting back toward the elevators and smiled one last time. "I'm not worried."

                                                                        §§§

She stood across the street, watching the apartment building with dread. It had been a mistake to throw her key. She had spent an hour looking around the area where she thought she'd thrown it, but no luck. 

So now she was waiting, praying that Ms. Brandi, the landlady, would show up before Grayson did. Her watch was ticking steadily closer to eight o'clock.

Charlie's heel was screaming at her. She'd had to put the heels back on, though, she had used Grayson's credit card to pay for another taxi, rather than walking back home like she usually did.

Not home, she reminded herself. Not now, and probably not then, either.

The events of last night had forced several very ugly truths upon her. And the one that bothered her the most was how desperate she was. 

She was going to meet Remi. 

At the very least, she would hear what he had to say. If it wasn't something that offended her sensibilities too much, she would take the opportunity.

Today hadn't given her any other choice.

A member of LSU's acceptance board—who also happened to be a nuerosurgeon at the hospital— had found her almost right after her shift had been up. He'd told that she had impressed quite a few people in that last interview. She'd made it through to the eighth and final interview. 

She would not let this slip away because of something as stupid as pride. 

Her heart leapt when she saw a woman with ample curves in a flowing, flower-print dress. A green bandana held her sisterlocks away from her face, her glasses perched on her dainty little nose.

If nothing else, Charlie would miss the older woman fiercely.

She darted across the street, waving apologetically at an old Cadillac as the driver honked the horn in annoyance. "Ms. Brandi!"

The landlady paused inside the door, turning back around curiously. She smiled warmly, her hazel eyes luminous over high cheekbones. "Charlie, honey, how are you?"

Charlie submitted herself to a strangling hug. Ridiculously, tears prickled in her eyes at the show of affection. After she was turned loose, she smiled and said, "Well, Ms. Brandi, honestly I've had better years."

"Lord, what's happened now?" Ms. Brandi waved her inside, leading her to her own apartment on the first floor.

The warm smell of cinnamon and magnolias enveloped her, and she perched on the floral-patterned loveseat in the sitting room. Softly yellowed lacy curtains drifted in the breeze created by the ceiling fan.

Ms. Brandi bustled around in the kitchen for a moment, then came back carrying a tray with two glasses of sweet iced tea and a plate of lemon squares with powdered sugar in lacy patterns on top. 

Charlie took one, knowing from long experience that not eating was not an option. The tart flavor of the lemon was set off nicely by the delicate sweetness of the powdered sugar, and she closed her eyes, savoring the treat.

Ms. Brandi settled down in the green wingback chair across from her, ring-encrusted fingers wrapping around her glass of iced tea. She leveled an attentive stare on Charlie, who took a sip of her own tea and sighed. 

Shaking her head, she said, "Grayson's been cheating on me. And I caught him last night in the apartment."

Charlie was shocked when Ms. Brandi choked a little and leaned forward concernedly. The older woman waved her off, coughing. She pulled a white handkerchief out of some hidden pocket and took off her glasses to wipe at her eyes.

Timidly, Charlie said, "I'm sorry, Ms. Brandi. I shouldn't have been so blunt about it."

"Honey, if anyone should be apologizing it's me." Ms. Brandi set her glasses back on her nose and shook her head mournfully.

Charlie frowned. "You didn't do anything wrong..."

She trailed off as Ms. Brandi shook her head again. She said, "Honey, I saw him walk in with her the other night. I just thought it was you. I didn't get a very good look at her, but..."

"Well, Grayson always did like redheads," Charlie said bitterly. She rubbed at her left ring finger, wishing she could scrub the tan line away. Even with the ring gone, the evidence of their deception remained.

"I was hoping you could let me upstairs to get my stuff. I didn't want to see him if I didn't have to, but he'll be home in about half an hour." She forced a small smile.

"Do you have a place to go?" Ms. Brandi asked, already looking a little skeptical.

Charlie told her the same lie she had told Jazira. "I've got some money saved up from last year. I'll be okay until I can figure out something a little more permanent."

Looking distressed, the older woman leaned back in her chair. "I wish I could help you, baby. But I don't have any openings."

"With all love, Ms. Brandi, I don't think I'd be able to stomach living under the same roof as him anymore."

Tears shone in Ms. Brandi's eyes, and she covered her mouth with her hand. "Lord forgive me, I didn't even think of that."

"Would it be okay for me to go and get my things?" Charlie asked tentatively. 

"I'll do you one better, honey. I'll let you keep it in my storage room until you find yourself a place." Ms. Brandi gave her a stern look. "Free of charge."

"But, Ms. Brandi—" 

"Don't you worry none, baby," Ms. Brandi said firmly, cutting her off mid-protest. "That won't put me out any. And you've helped me plenty of times, painting and running errands and whatnot."

Charlie laughed. "I don't know about whatnot." She smiled. "Thank you, Ms. Brandi. I appreciate it."

"It's the least I can do," the older woman said, getting a little tearful again. "I should have—"

"Not done a thing," Charlie said, then winced, not liking being rude and interrupting. "Sorry. But this is between me and Grayson. I'm just glad you were able to let me in."

Still looking a little upset, the woman nodded, then stood and they made their way to the elevator, talking lightly about what Charlie was going to do now. She didn't mention anything about Remi, only saying that she might have an opportunity sometime soon.

Ms. Brandi let her into the apartment, then flittered her hands at Charlie. "Do you have any boxes to put your things in?"

Charlie blushed and laughed. "I sure don't."

"Well no one would expect you to be thinking too clearly." Ms. Brandi turned back to the door. "Let me go see if I can find some, and you go ahead and get started gathering everything up."

"Yes, ma'am," she said with a nod. "One or two will probably do it. I don't have very much."

Ms. Brandi nodded then disappeared back down the hall, leaving Charlie to look around the room, beginning to stew in her own thoughts. 

She shook her head in disgust before going into the bedroom and starting to yank her clothes out of her dresser. She sighed when she finally stepped out of the heels from hell, then pulled on a pair of comfortable jeans and a tank top.

Shaking her head, she knew she was going to be a little late meeting Remi, then decided that he would wait if he really wanted to help her. She was growing more skeptical with every moment that passed.

What the hell kind of job could he offer her right now? A nine-to-five was out of the question with her starting medical school in the spring semester.

Then there were a handful of things she simply wouldn't do. That curiosity he'd set ablaze inside her sent a few more sparks through her blood. She wanted to know as much as she needed to know.

The front door opened, and she called, "I'm in the bedroom. Really all I have are clothes and some other little things."

"Charlie?"

Her heart iced over at Grayson's voice behind her. Closing her eyes, she swore silently, then turned around to find him standing there, his hands loose at his sides. His eyes were red like he'd been drinking. Or maybe like he hadn't been sleeping. 

Charlie stared at him, and he had the grace to look down. "I told you to put my stuff in the hall." Her voice was stiff, almost wooden.

He paled, then said, "Baby, please. You don't really mean that."

A laugh burst out of her before she could stop it, and she clamped a hand over her mouth. Grayson looked up at her with wounded eyes, though she didn't really know why he was the one who should look like that.

She started to fold the clothes that she'd thrown onto the bed, making a mental note to wash everything. "You know, I kind of think you actually believe that," she said, shaking her head in something like wonder. Or maybe disbelief.

"Where are you gonna go?" he asked, making her spine stiffen. "Please, Charlie, can we just... can we just talk about it?"

Her shoulders slumped, and she sighed. "There's nothin' to talk about. You know that and I know that." She turned around to him, folding her arms. "Look, Grayson..." She frowned and considered on whether or not she should really be honest.

Then her eyes found a necklace on the dresser that didn't belong to her.

Smiling, the expression serene, she said, "Well, this way you won't die of cold in New Orleans."

This made him flinch and her smile widened. She was actually surprised by the venom bubbling in the pit of her stomach. A laugh fought its way free and she sneered. "I'll be just fine. I was fine before I met you, and I'll be fine without you. You'd be surprised the kind of people you can meet in the middle of the city late at night."

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked, leaning against the door frame.

"It means I moved on a long time ago, and I'm sorry it took us this long to figure that out. I'm not mad, Grayson... I'm not anything. And that's kind of wrong." She shrugged and went back to folding clothes. "You don't have to pretend anymore, okay? Neither of us do."

"Pretend?" he asked, apparently intent on clinging to the illusion. 

"Mm-hm." She nodded. "I appreciate everything you've done for me. And I'll pay it back. Every cent. But, honestly? I like the idea of not using you anymore. That's not really what I meant to do but that's what it was."

"You're such a bitch, you know that?" he snarled, and her eyes widened. She didn't think he'd ever raised his voice at her.

Then, she just shrugged. "Yeah. Probably."

Shock ran like fire through her veins when a hand was fisted in her loose hair, wrenching her head back. Grayson's hand wrapped around her throat, and her eyes widened as he started to squeeze.

"You'll never amount to anything," he hissed. "Not now. You're just another whore who'll end up on the streets like your slut mother." He laughed, the sound derisive. "I bet that's what you'll do. You'll fuck your way through school, if you even make it that far."

Charlie was frozen, unable to comprehend what was happening. Squeezing even harder, he said, "I mean, you've already got some experience with that, right?"

Her brain snapped back into gear and she snarled, "Which just means you've been paying for it the whole time, Gray. Pathetic."

She jabbed her elbow backwards, catching him in the stomach. He released her, and she darted away from him, running toward the door. Grayson roared and she heard heavy footsteps behind her.

Charlie ran down the hall, flying down the stairs, Grayson getting closer with every step. She had barely made it to the sidewalk when he tackled her, pinning her to the ground. Pain ricocheted through her hip where it smashed into the concrete.

"Get off of me!" she screamed, not afraid to make a scene in public. Ridiculously, Grayson tried to shush her. He would sooner die and go to hell than make a scene where others could see it.

That's what you get for being raised by a mother with manners. She bucked up, knocking him halfway off of her. Not missing her window, she smashed the side of her fist into his nose, making him swear. 

Fury blazed in his eyes, and she wondered how she could have missed this part of him.

She scrambled to her feet, just to smack right into a wall of muscle.

Charlie flipped her hair out of her face, looking up into the serious face of a severely handsome black man. Her breath rasped in and out, and she turned to find Grayson standing about five feet away, wiping the blood away from his nose.

The man looked at something on his phone, then asked, "Charlie?"

Fun Fact: The "You're not Cher. You're first name doesn't mean anything to me", part was actually taken from my chemistry professor. He'd say that before every test, reminding us to put our whole name down, because he didn't know who the hell we were.