Page 19 of Charming Like Us
While we’re both driving, we stare at the phone screen less, and it’s not long before we sayour goodbyes.
Jesse always ends the call with, “Talk later, Kuya.”
I hit green light after green light, and it feels like I’m flying towards Hell’s Kitchen, towards Oscar. I shift in my seat, glance out my rearview mirror. Tendons pull taut in my shoulders, making me sit more tensely than normal.
I feel most comfortable being approachable, being a positive energy when the world clouds and darkens. But for the first time, I’m…
I’m confused.
So confused thatpositivityfeels like a fucking farce, and my mind can’t stop spinning between my personal feelings and my professional life.
And I knew this project with Charlie would be chaotic on multiple fronts. But adding Jesse to the mix brings it to a new level.
Chaos Factor #1: Filming Charlie Cobalt. It’s like trying to catch a firefly on a normal production day, and this show will be anything but routine.
Chaos Factor #2: Being around Oscar Oliveira. At all. For any period of time.
My pulse pounds hard in my neck.
I don’t have time to sort out my feelings.
I’m here.
5
JACK HIGHLAND
New York.
Residence to 4 of 5 Cobalt brothers, and in effect, their personal bodyguards. I practically knoweverythingabout the Hales, Meadows, and Cobalts. Comes with my job title. I’m a treasure trove of their secrets that I’ll always keep locked away, and yet, I can’t name a single secret of Oscar’s that I have.
Nothing man-to-man, person-to-person he’s told me that he’s never told anyone else. Human connections are usually so easy for me, but after our awkward fallout in Anacapri, I wonder if that’s even true.
21stfloor of a luxury apartment complex, the deep walls are painted red, and industrial lights hang along the wide hallway.
I pass the gold number:2166.
Cobalt brothers live there, and I used to take meetings in the Triple Shield’s security apartment right across from2166.But ever since Akara created Kitsuwon Securities, Omega has different housing from Alpha and Epsilon.
Oscar is the only SFO bodyguard with a client living in New York, so he’s moved to a studio apartment and lives alone.
I’ve been dealing with the dynamics of security and the families long enough to know how it runs. And if I don’t know something, I ask.
But I’ve never been inside this studio apartment. Something solely belonging to Oscar. The strap of my messenger bag is across my chest, and I glance at the spiral notebook in my hand before slipping a pen behind my ear. Trying to ignore the knot in my chest.
His studio is at the end of the hall. Right next to a stairwell. And he’s already texted me about the door being unlocked. Tocome on in.
Still, I knock, and I take off my shoes before entering and set them next to a fake fern inside. “I’ve arrived,” I say lightly, wanting to smile but my rattled confidence flatlines my lips.
“One second,” he calls out.
He’s in the sleek kitchen, digging in a pantry. I gaze around his place. White marble counters, gray tile backsplash, and dark wood floors—I look up at industrial lights and the loft where a king-sized bed is in view of a living area (leather couch, bookcase, and TV). Yeah, this isnice.
Like a five-star bachelor pad. Updated, trendy. Double the size of my shoebox Philly apartment.
I remember Akara telling me security housing in New York costs the most. Weird to think that I’m more friends with Akara than with Oscar. There was a time where I thought Akara and I would butt heads forever, but I fixed that fast.
I don’t like having enemies.
