Beginning

Chapter One

Beginning

Hearts are cold and frigged. Why do we expect them to honor us so much? That is the question Charles has asked his whole life. A novelist and professor at the local collage he was pretty much the perfect man. He had much money and a great mind, he just couldn't find the secret key to falling in love. To him it was all science it all should be explained. But when he tries this type of method on women it always seems to falter. Most women meet him and find out he writes romance and think woohoo they have a guy that really cares. They are wrong though. In truth he doesn't even know how he could write these things. He finds them completely disgusting. Revolting is the least you could say.

“YOU HAVE A DEADLINE TOMORROW!”

Charles sighed. His editor was such a pushy person and hated it when Charles took his job lightly. She stood by his desk and slammed her fists on the paper in front of him.

“Louise you have nothing to worry about, only two more chapters to go and I'm done.”

Louise stamped down her heels and her eye began to twitch like a neurotic animal. Red hair whipping past his eyes.

“You only have five chapters in the story.”

Charles shrugged. Without a word he slipped off his robe. Louise turned bright red. Quickly she turned away from his nudity. Truth was Louise is madly in love with him, but just the thought of his muscular bare chest made her turn into a tomato. Charles put his arms as a invitation.

“Want to help me with some inspiration?”

Louise kicked back and sent him out of the chair holding his crotch. With that he got the message and put on the robe. He had known her to be worse when he embarrassed her. Only it was mostly the kicks.

“Just write it you dunce!”

She stalked out the door and drove off. Charles just stared at the back of the door with a bored expression. He lifted his watch on his right arm. He took a swift glance at it and realized the true time. His eyes shut and he rolled back for a long stretch.

“Nine in the morning and that's when she chooses to wake me for a deadline.”

Charles Daniel is a tall 6'ft male. Brown locks falling to just the bottom of his neck. Reading glasses perched above his nose. A man that looked much like a trickster or a healthy version of death note's L. Arched features and moist lips of the color cherry red. Age of 27.

Just then his machine went off. “Leave a message after the tone. Beep. Hey Charles it's Jenny, please reply. I've been thinking and I want to move in with you. I think we have a special connection that many don't have. I just need to step things up into another level, I can't go on forever just dating. What do you think?” The message stopped then. He sat up and rolled his eyes.

“You know what I think of that. It's a load of crap.”

He stood by the desk full of drafts, crazy romance, and gay fiction. When he was 17 and if you asked “Hey want to be a romance novelist?” He would of spit in your face. At that time he was going to be the best singer and then a year later that was dropped and he started to have romantic dreams after high school. They became so regular that having a dream without romance terrified him. Soon he was told that if he wrote it all out that he might be able to rid himself of it. Then he gained a editor when his friend ran off with his journal. Charles went along with it. After all his only other option was to become a lawyer and he didn't feel like dealing with other peoples problems.

Charles picked up the latest series of his. Love Or Desire. He shook his head almost immediately. This one was especially weird for it's genre. A gay romance was not something he dreamed about often, but his brain function was dieing of sleep starvation. He lifted his mobile phone from the desk and pressed the speed dial for his new assistant.

“Hello, this is Rachel Mark.” A female voice called out.

Almost abruptly he hated her. The calm soothing voice lined with tender feelings was all to much like his stories and he could not have it be that way. He grunted against the device; signaling that she should watch where she goes on his territory.

“You, my assistant. Get over here, I can't reach the remote.” He commanded before hanging up unexpectedly.

Rachel had seen this coming almost immediately. When she was told about him she got his character and personality permanently burned into her mind. Just the red flag of don't kill him.

She arrived at his home with her pant suit. She was all about business and she was going to make that clear in the air around her. The ominous aura of a woman not to be messed with. Brown hair pulled up in a ponytail with laces of sprinkled wet hair sweep around her like a crevice. Blue eyes darting around eager with frustration. Breasts trying to show through her suit and not failing. Blush perked lips full of destined love with bar mates. She patted down her clothing making sure not to give him anyway of turning things on her. A pair of glasses clutched in hand for she didn't want him to think of her imperfect, so she shoved them in her pocket and walked in squinting. He turned his head and gave her a sly smile. He just stood by the desk and crossed his arms. The undignified robe made want to snicker like she had the win in the bag.

“What too weak to get the poor remote yourself?” She asked with a tint of superiority.

He shrugged and pathetically reached out toward a white sofa ten feet away from his body. She rolled her eyes and walked in efficiently with the clicking of heels on the tiles in his living room. She picked it up and handed it to him with a soft pass transmitting the words “I rule this turf.” He took her challenge and smirked snapping the remote from her hands and flipping on the power of the flat screen behind her. It roared alive with the passion of love making. She could hear it and gave him a disappointed gaze. Oh Rachel was ready to lose it. Not in her life had a man been this crude.

“Now, now no porn for you. You have work to do.” Rachel teased.

Treating him like a child was the only way to do this, it was the only way she could get his attention. The only way to satisfy his need for a twisted motherly care. Just simple words like this reminded him of his days of being a mindless kid with the dreams of being a astronaut.

Silence mingled the room. Rachel took the remote from his bewildered figure. She went to turn and grab one of his stories from behind him. Charles clutched her arm in mid air and brought her face close to his. Bringing his tone down to a low growl.

“Who ever said that it's porn. It's research.” Charles said. “I don't play with sex, it's merely a tool.”

Rachel pulled back his smirk of pride very visible. The man changed character easy. A little too easy if you asked most his visitors.

“Research my a*s, now write that famous story that so many love so much!” Rachel shouted.

A bit of frustration slipped through her calm composure. Her shell falling apart from his stupidity. Just that perverted wall kept many from knowing the true him. But with this shell most hate the hell out of him.

“Yeah, yeah.”

He let a grunt out while sitting at the desk. She reached for the book finally grasping it. She pulled it to her eyes and smiled pathetically. Romance dressing the cover with a happy male couple. The taller one groped at his companion and the smaller one forced his blush to hide in his lovers shirt.

“See even if there both guys it's so sweet.”

“Whatever you say.”