Charlie and Layla

Charlie and Layla

I really wanted to make this a Consequences story but I didn't have the heart to do it. Neither Charlie nor Layla meet the requirements. I loved both characters and couldn't do that to them. Read at your own risk.

Thanks as always to LadyCibelle for her comments, suggestions and editing.

Part One

Charlie

"Listen, Sheila, thanks for doing this. I know Mrs. Wilson will be home sometime around eleven or so. Is that still OK? Just to be sure, I'll pay you in advance, and give you an extra $20."

"Thanks for the extra, and It's fine Mr. Wilson. I can stay as late as needed. I'm eighteen now and on my own most of the time. And, I can use the money since my job at the diner doesn't pay that much and I'm still a few hours short for my certificate as a stylist. I should be done next spring."

"Great Sheila. Well, I'm on my way. Tell Mrs. Wilson I left something for her in the bedroom. I'll see you."

With that, Charlie Wilson went out, got slowly into his car and drove away. He looked back once, taking in the quiet tree lined street, the street lights glowing softly, relieving the shadows beneath the trees, the other homes on the block and most of all, the soft lights in the windows of the home he just left. He had no idea when he would see it like this again, if ever.

He pulled into the circular driveway in front of the Gateway Inn and went in to register. He told the clerk that he needed at least a week and wanted a room with a fridge, a microwave and necessities such as an iron and a board. He gave her his credit card and watched as she keyed the room number into the swipe card. Once he was finished, he parked his car, got the two bags and walked to the elevator. He took it up three floors to his room where he unpacked, plugged in his laptop and phone to charge, and then turned on the TV, keeping the sound turned down low.

He sat there on the bed, his hands clasped in front of him, staring fixedly at the flickering movement on the screen. He stayed in that position for the next two hours, his eyes blind as his mind worked, punishing him over and over. The only movement he made was when his cell phone rang once before going directly to voice mail. He glanced over at it, then back to the screen. Over the next hour, the cell rang incessantly but there was no further reaction from Charlie Wilson.

Layla Wilson

Right at eleven that same evening, Layla Wilson pulled into the driveway and waited till the garage door rolled open all the way. It took the entire opening to take her SUV, the one she bought with the bonus money Charlie made last year. It was his idea to buy her a new car to replace the nine-year old Toyota she was driving. She didn't want to take the money but she did hate that old car and Charlie did insist. He was like that, always trying to make things easier on her and their four year old daughter Christine.

Before her thoughts took her in that direction any further, Layla pulled up and into the garage. She was halfway in when she noticed that Charlie's car wasn't there. That was strange; that his car was gone. He was supposed to be home watching Christine while she was out. . . . . Once again she stopped those thoughts.

She shut off the car, remained sitting there as she tried to calm her jumbled thoughts. What she did tonight had to be forced deep into a dark corner where it could be viciously stamped out. She climbed out and walked into the kitchen, finding Sheila, their next door neighbor's daughter sitting at the table reading from one of her texts. She nodded at Sheila, walked past her to the family room, then into the den and finally back to the kitchen.

'Where's Mr. Wilson, Sheila?" Layla took off her coat as she waited for the young girl to tell her where Charlie had gotten off to. It was not normal for him to go out this late. Especially for his job as salesman for Diamond Auto Parts. He got a lot of calls at home in the evenings and even on weekends but he never went out on calls after working hours. He said himself that his customers worked normal hours; not like those she was expected to work.

Again she cut those thoughts off as she heard Sheila tell her that Charlie had called her just before seven to come over. She said he waited till she arrived, left for over an hour before coming back and going upstairs. Then after spending some time up there while she put Christine in for her bath and then to bed, he came back down with two suitcases. She said he talked about having to go away for a while.

Layla listened to this with disbelief and almost called the young girl a liar until she heard her say that Charlie left her a message upstairs. She paid the girl, sent her out the back and watched until she made it into her own home, then shut and locked the back door before going up to get the message. Her mind began to go down that dark path she had been avoiding all evening even as she fought it. As she climbed the stairs, her mind began clamoring for attention, refusing to be shut out again, and the dark fear that had been nagging at her all evening began to break through the blocks she had set up.

Why now after this had been going on for the past three weeks? Why now did she begin to have these feelings of guilt and that dark fear? Why now? And why had Charlie picked this time to do something completely out of character and scare her this way. She was scaring herself and she had to stop. There was a perfectly simple explanation and all she had to do was read the message Charlie left. Before she went into the bedroom, she stopped and peeked into the room where Christine slept. She was calmed by her daughter's angelic face.

Leaving her daughter's room, she walked down the hall to the master bedroom. She stood inside the doorway, looking around for the message. Instead all she saw were several photos scattered on the bed. She walked over, reached for one and raised it up to see what it was. She stared at the photo for several seconds without movement before her legs weakened and she collapsed silently to the floor, grabbing the bedspread as she fell. She didn't see the additional photos that slid off the disturbed spread and landed on the floor around her. She made no sound as she crumpled into a ball and began to silently weep. Her shoulders moved, her face shone from the tears rolling down her cheeks, but still there was no sound.

On the floor, the photo of her and Carson Jennings, her mentor and her lover lay face up. In the photo, they were locked in an embrace with faces pressed to each other and his hands resting obscenely on her ass. A second photo showed the two entering a door together, the number 107 clearly indicating it was either a hotel or motel room door. She knew the other photos no doubt showed similar things.

Hours later, or perhaps it was only minutes, Layla stood, walked into the closet they shared and saw that his side was almost empty. He had taken most of his shirts and suits for work. She didn't need to look in the small bathroom to know that his articles were also gone. She didn't need any more proof that he had left her and was gone, and she had no doubts as to why he had gone. The pictures showed her perfectly well why. And now that he was gone, she had to admit she wasn't surprised. After all, she knew Charlie better than he knew himself.

She sat on the bed, much as Charlie Wilson had done earlier and continued to cry. One could wonder why she was crying. Hadn't she brought this on herself? Hadn't she expected that Charlie might find out and react this way? Hadn't she told herself that what she was doing was so very wrong? The answer was simple: of course not! How could one cheat on her husband of seven years, a man that she loved and adored, and ask those questions? Asking would have demanded answers and the answers were not allowed in her sordid world of denial.

In spite of the knowledge that she had poisoned her life with Charlie Wilson, her husband and the man she loved, she reached for the phone to call him. She thought somehow that if she could talk to him, this would all go away and he would come home to her and Christine and she could explain that it was all a big mistake they could just ignore. Thinking this insane thought, she dialed and waited. She almost answered his voice mail prompt before leaving a message. "Charlie, where are you? Please call me right away." She hung up, and dialed again, again getting his voice mail. She repeated this four or five times, leaving the same message, before it reached her conscious mind that he was not answering.

Layla sat on the bed, looking at the pictures scattered around with unseeing eyes. She was motionless and silent, eerily similar to Charlie's actions in a motel room miles away. She held her cell phone in her hand and occasionally, she would press and hold the speed dial button that was Charlie. She would raise the phone to her ear, stare blindly at the wall, then disconnect.

Charlie and Layla

Charlie Wilson was a simple man: average height, average weight and even tempered. Some said he was good looking, most said he was 'not bad'. His hair was brown, as were his eyes. His grades in high school and later in college were average: C's and B's. He graduated from a four year college in four years, and his degree was in fine arts like most others.

His family was also very typical and normal. His dad was a high school grad but, with no money for college, took a job in civil service and became a mailman and had been for almost forty years. During those years he had moved up the ranks to work mostly in small town post offices. Now, he had his own small office and was a postmaster in a small town. In truth, it was a nice post office and very well run, but like most small town post offices, it was nothing outstanding.

His mother was a housewife, raising Charlie and a sister while keeping the house clean and neat. She was pretty, still able to fit into the clothes she had kept for years, and very well liked. She was typical of most housewives of that generation, preferring to concentrate on making her home as nice and welcome as she could, to having a career of her own outside the house. Meals were always on time and always the same. Monday was meatloaf, Tuesday was. . . . . . . Well, you get the picture.

One problem that Charlie had was that he was shy. He was painfully shy and that shyness dictated his behavior all through high school and into college. He was alone, but not distracted by that since he was used to it. He made few friends and especially no lady friends. To consider dating frightened Charlie to death. Instead, he used his mind to take him on flights of fancy and books became his refuge. He was fortunate in that he had a very highly developed sense of logic and his mind was certainly disciplined. That discipline carried him through what was to some young people a wasteland of uncertainty and insecurity. Not so with Charlie. He was safe and secure within himself.

Layla Spiro was not a simple girl. She came from a good family, one that had money: not really wealthy but very well to do. She did well in high school, graduating in the top of her class. She was a cheerleader of course, and was head cheer in her junior and senior years. She lost her virginity to Jake Monroe, the varsity football quarterback in her senior year and lost Jake two weeks later. She was heartbroken, more over losing Jake than her virginity. He was the big man on campus and she needed to be with someone like him for her own vanity. In her anger, she became more promiscuous for a while but then realized she was only punishing herself.

From that point on, she began to concentrate on her grades and getting into college and into the world of advertising. She graduated high school with honors, was accepted to many major colleges and finally picked one that had a good social life and was rated high in her chosen field. In college, she was inducted into the best sorority and dated the most popular boys, none steadily. Sex was occasional, and not remarkable. She concentrated mainly on her studies and went to the parties put on by her sorority but stayed fixed on her goal. She took as many courses as she could and finished her degree in three and a half years, almost four months ahead of her peers. That gave her an edge in finding the best jobs. Her degree was in communications and she graduated in the top 10%.

Charlie graduated the same year and found a job selling auto parts when one of his friends steered him toward that job. That seems like a strange choice for someone as shy and reserved as Charlie, but it came about in a strange way. Charlie wanted to teach but soon realized he wouldn't make a lot of money and the job was not as easy as he first thought. Facing a bunch of kids who were more interested in embarrassing him than in learning was too much for him. He was shy, they were determined, and they too often succeeded, so he took the salesman job and soon found he had a knack for it. He was more surprised than anyone to find that when selling, he was anything but shy or ordinary. That pleased him and he knew he had found his calling. He worked the first two years on salary and then jumped in with both feet, working strictly for commissions. He doubled his salary in the first year.

Coming out of college, Layla found a job with the top advertising firm in the city and settled in right away, learning all she could about the job, the craft and making contacts. Since she was who she was, she had little trouble with any of these tasks. She made friends with the top artists, made contacts at parties and get-togethers, left her business card everywhere she went and two years and three months after starting, she was made the youngest department team leader in her company. She took the assignment and made it her own, coming up with first class ad contracts. She was a success.

As the fates would have it, there was a power failure in the city one afternoon when Charlie was there for a meeting with a buyer for a large chain. A successful sale would make Charlie's year. He had done well so far but this could be one of the single biggest orders of his life. He was ready and able and optimistic and already planning on how to spend this year's bonus.

Layla was meeting a client at the same time, hoping to sign them to a long term contract with her firm. It would be a very nice plum in her basket and Layla would be the lead artist of course and the contract would be very lucrative. She stood to be very nicely compensated if this could be brought home and a promotion she had been working toward would be one step closer.

Charlie started toward the elevator just as Layla did the same. Being a gentleman, Charlie stood to one side while Layla moved past him into the elevator. Charlie followed, asked her for her floor, punched the appropriate buttons and the doors closed. Charlie stood very quietly, his eyes avoiding hers as he always did when in close proximity to a beautiful woman. As they started up, the power failed, trapping them between floors, together in the dark until the emergency lights came on.

Layla was immediately panicked and began to hyperventilate. Charlie was more sanguine about the whole thing and watched as his lady companion began to struggle with her breathing. Understanding immediately what she was going through, as Charlie himself was slightly asthmatic, he forced himself to talk softly to her, patting her shoulders, rubbing her arms and soothing her as much as possible. Layla began to respond, her breathing began to settle down and soon she was much better. She took several deep cleansing breaths and was fine.

Charlie and Layla talked and shared their backgrounds while waiting for the power to come back on. Layla seemed to be very comfortable with Charlie and soon they were laughing and enjoying each other's company. Charlie felt very at ease with Layla and for the first time in his life, found himself comfortable and happy this close to a beautiful woman. They were sitting together on the elevator floor when the power came back on and the elevator moved upward once again. Charlie felt a small pang of regret.

As the doors opened and Layla exited, she turned, gave Charlie a blinding smile, and handed him her card. "Please call me" she said as the doors closed. Charlie took the card; put it in his shirt pocket with full intentions of calling as soon as it was proper. He continued on to his floor with his thoughts pleasantly on Layla's smile.

Charlie and Layla dated steadily for the next six months, both enjoying the other and sharing all their hopes and dreams. Charlie came to look forward to being with someone else and enjoyed going out to places he rarely visited. Layla was a passport to a life Charlie had only read about. He was happy for the first time in his life when with someone else. Their relationship progressed and sex between them was hesitant at first then more passionate as Charlie found Layla enjoyed what he was doing. For the first time in his life, Charlie found himself in love and no longer wanting to be alone. Charlie got his nerve up, tried several times before successfully popping the question. Layla accepted immediately and they made plans to marry.

Marriage was wonderful and the two enjoyed their time together. Love making was very important to both and they learned how to please the other in every way possible. Layla was more experienced than Charlie but Charlie was quick to learn and very interested in whatever she could teach him. Charlie read some books, made some suggestions and they found several new things both enjoyed. To Layla, Charlie was a wonderful lover that made time to always satisfy her. She loved to satisfy him and to hear him sigh with contentment. To know that he desired her made her happy. Charlie felt much the same and together they were perfectly matched.

Christine came along after two years and both were ecstatic. They didn't care whether it was a boy or girl and both chose to keep the sex a secret till birth. The pregnancy was easy for Layla and Charlie was an attentive husband in all things. Layla found ways to keep her Charlie happy in bed right up until it was time. Charlie did all he could to make Layla happy but she didn't need sexual satisfaction in the last month so Charlie backed off himself.

Layla stayed home with Christine for the first year but wanted to go back to work as soon as she could find a good daycare. When one was found, she went back and life became normal again. Days were for working on their respective careers and evenings were to be shared with the daughter they both loved. Weekends were spent doing things together as a family. Life for Charlie was perfect and Layla was content.

For the Wilson's money was not really an issue. Charlie was conservative in all things and he put as much money aside as possible for Christine's future. He spent only what he thought was necessary but never denied anything for Layla or Christine. Layla was very successful in her job and made a very good living. During a good year, she would make upwards of $90-100,000 a year, and had never made less than $75,000 over the last five years. Charlie made considerably less, closer to $55-65,000. Bonuses were usually an extra $5,000 to $15,000 and Charlie never failed to make a bonus. As the bonuses came in, Charlie usually did something for Layla with them. He rarely wanted anything for himself: his happiness was providing for his family.

Layla

About the time Christine turned six, Layla was promised a promotion to Division Head if she could keep up the good work for another year. To help her, she was placed under the direction of Carson Jennings, a high-powered ad executive in the company. Jennings was a typical ad man: tall, wavy brown hair, striking blue eyes and a handsome face, one that looked good in advertisements. He was as smooth talking as he was good looking and he had been very successful over the years.