Saving Charly

By Nancy Chastain

Tempted by love. Saved by my dad's best friend.

Charly.
A few days ago, I was just Charly. A small-town girl, bartending at a club near my tiny apartment, living paycheck to paycheck. Then I got a letter from a lawyer telling me my father died. Now, I'm an orphan with no clue what to do with the estate and the club my father named after me. I should sell it and enjoy the billionaire lifestyle away from city life, but the secrets my dad left behind bind me here. Or rather, my dad's best friend tempts me to stay.

Rocky.
No matter how much I try to pull away, I'm drawn to everything about her. I keep telling myself she's off-limits, but the urge to protect her courses through my veins. Someone's out for the club and her, just like they were out for her father. The closer we get to figuring out what really happened to my best friend, the more danger she's in. It's up to me to save Charly.
 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Nancy Chastain
• Release date: Dec 17, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223024309

Book preview

1

Charly

Bar Bottle

Iwalk outside to check my mail for the first time in a week. When I open the mailbox, junk mail spills out onto the ground. After gathering it all, I walk back into the house and toss it on the coffee table.

Grabbing the small trash can from the corner of the room, I sit on the couch and sift through the pile. Grocery ads and fundraising flyers instantly go in the trash, but the last envelope catches my eye. The return address is Bosworth and Snyder Law Firm in Los Angeles. 

Opening the envelope, I find a letter inside.

Ms. Tisdale,

We are sorry to inform you of the passing of your father, Mr. Charles D. Tisdale. Our firm is in charge of handling his estate. Please contact our office at your earliest convenience to discuss the distributions of his assets.

Mr. Robert Bosworth

1200 Washington Blvd.

Los Angeles, CA 90066

[phone] 

This can’t be real. My… My dad is dead. My heart feels as if it has broken in half. I can’t catch my breath. I reread the letter one more time. It’s surreal to realize that at the age of twenty-eight I’m an orphan.

He left when I was eight, and except for a few birthday cards, I’ve never heard from him. Settling back on the couch, I reread the letter.

I have no family. I can’t understand why I’m crying for someone who deserted us. I wipe my eyes with the hem of my shirt and read the letter again before picking up my phone and dialling the number.

I’m calling for Mr. Robert Bosworth. 

This is Robert Bosworth, a man with an arrogant tone answers.

Mr. Bosworth, my name is Charly Tisdale. My father was Charles Tisdale.

Ah... Ms. Tisdale, how nice to hear from you. As the letter states, we are handling your father’s estate. We would like to fly you out to LA to expedite the settlement of the estate. When you arrive, we’ll have the papers ready for you to sign. We will take care of liquidating the assets and depositing the funds from the sale into your account, he responds smugly.

Mr. Bosworth, was it my father’s wishes that everything be sold?

No, but—

I’ll fly out to L.A. as soon as possible.

I will have my assistant book you a flight. She will call you back with the details.

Thank you. I hang up the phone, wondering why the hurry to sell. Stop looking for trouble, Charly, I tell myself as my phone rings.

This is Charly, I answer when I see Bosworth and Snyder Law come up on the caller ID.

Ms. Tisdale, I have your flight information. You will be flying out Friday the 16 th, Wichita Airport on United Airlines, flight 1620. You will depart at 9:20 a.m. and arrive at LAX at 10:36 in the morning. We will have a someone pick you up and escort you to our office. If you have any problems, please do not hesitate to give me a call.

When the call ends, I take a deep breath and call my boss. Marcus, I’m going to need to take some time off. I’m flying to LA on Friday.

Charly, knock it off. If you want time off just say so. 

I’m taking a few days off. I’ll call you and let you know when I’ll be back.

Marcus laughs and responds, Sure, Charly, have a good trip.

Jack ass, I mumble as I hang up the phone.

I grab my laptop to do some research on Bosworth and Snyder Law—to make sure they are legit. An hour later, all my research points to a legitimate law firm.

One more call to make. April, my best friend, answers quickly, and I invite her over for pizza. I need someone to talk to and a ride to Wichita. 

There’s a knock at the door forty-five minutes later. Opening the door, expecting to see the pizza guy, I see April with him.

April, are you coming in?

Oh. Hi, Charly. This is Paul. April points toward the guy holding our pizza. April has the attention span of a gnat when the male species is around. I lean against the door, watching her work her magic on another unsuspecting soul.

I pay Paul and take the pizza out of his hand. After five minutes, I walk away, leaving April to finish hypnotizing him. With a flick of her hair and a big toothy smile, April will have him doing what she wants when she wants.

She walks into the kitchen a few minutes later, goes straight to the fridge, and grabs a couple of beers. Paul was really cute, huh? 

I laugh as I sit down at the table. Sure. So, when are you and Paul going out?

Just because I talked with him, Charly, doesn’t mean we’re going out. April plops down in a chair.

April, I know you. I shake my head. 

Fine, he’s taking me bowling tomorrow night, she replies with a smirk.

Wow, bowling. Sounds fun. Is he picking you up in his car with the giant pizza on top? I laugh.

Shut up! Not everyone is as picky as you are when it comes to dating. When was the last time you went out?

Touché. I take a bite of my pizza. I’m going to Los Angeles on Thursday. Can you give me a ride to Wichita airport?

Sure. Are you off to California to lounge on the beach? she smarts off sarcastically.

I didn’t say anything, just handed her the letter. I take a drink of my beer, watching her expression change as she reads the letter. Oh, Charly, I’m sorry. Are you all right?

I guess. I never thought his death would affect me the way it has.

What do you mean?

When Mom died a few months ago, knowing I still had a parent out there if ever needed something was comforting in a way. I get up from the table and put my plate in the dishwasher. Turning, I lean against the counter. I called the law firm, and they arranged the ticket and for a car to pick me up. They even said they would handle selling everything for me.

Did they tell you what he left you?

No, but the attorney seems eager to sell it.

He knows you live in Kansas. Maybe they’re willing to help you get everything wrapped up quickly so you can get home.

Maybe, I say with a shrug.

Don’t get all suspicious until you check them out. Are you sure about going to California alone?

This is something I have to do. I need to find out why my dad left us.

It’s Thursday morning, and I’m drinking my third cup of coffee as I wait for April to arrive. While rinsing my cup out, I hear the front door open. Charly, you ready?

I check the back door to make sure it’s locked. Yeah, I’m just checking the door. My duffle and computer bag are on the couch.

Duffle? Charly, you’re going to Los Angeles. Why didn’t you get decent luggage? We could swing by my house and grab mine if you want?

My duffle is fine. I don’t have to check it.

But…

But nothing. Let’s go. I toss my bags in the back seat and get in her car. I spend the next hour listening to April drone on and on about all the things to see in LA. She even made me a list of places to visit.

Call me when you get there, April says before she drives away.

Taking a deep breath, I walk through security of the Wichita Airport. I look around, surprised by the amount of people trying to catch a flight. 

I’ve never flown before. Hell, I’ve never been anywhere. Hutchinson, Kansas is where I was born and have always lived.

After checking in, I take a seat and nervously wait to be called for my flight. Deep breaths, I tell myself as I walk up to the boarding desk and ask if I’m in the right area. The kind woman behind the standing desk tells me to have a seat, and she will make sure I don’t miss my flight.

I must look pathetic for a stranger to realize I’m terrified.  Get a grip, I say to myself, fidgeting in my chair.

Pardon me, may I sit next to you? an elderly woman asks.

Sure. Sorry… I mean, of course, I stammer.

I’m Edna Wilson. I’m going to Los Angeles to visit my son and his family. She pulls out her phone to show me pictures.

My name is Charly. You have a nice-looking family. I secretly hope she puts the pictures away. Having lost the last member of my family, I don’t feel up to seeing a stranger’s perfect family. Do you fly often?

I’ve been to California twice. She tucks her phone into her purse. What takes you to California?

Family business. I glance down at my hands. 

She notices the trembling. Are you okay?

Yes, I’m fine. Just nervous. I’ve never flown before.

Flight 1620 for Los Angeles is now boarding first class at Gate B, the intercom announced. 

That’s me. Edna stands and gathers her things. It was nice talking with you, Charly.

Bye. Nice to meet you, Edna.

Miss? Excuse me, Miss? I look up to see the boarding attendant staring at me.

Yes? I grab my bags and walk toward her. 

You need to board now. May I have your ticket?

But… they called for first class. My ticket isn't first class. I peek down at the ticket in my hand. 

May I see your ticket, she asks, holding her hand out. She points to the top of the ticket where it says first class. To my astonishment, she tears off a section and hands it back to me. You need to board now. She turns and takes the next ticket.

I amble down what looks like a tunnel of doom, thinking to myself, Why would the lawyer send me a first-class ticket? 

There’s a line of people behind me, urging me forward like cattle to slaughter. With each step, I tell myself to breathe.

A stewardess stands at the door of the airplane, directing people to their seats. Edna waves at me. I wish I was sitting next to her. A friendly face would be nice right about now. I scan the seats, looking for an indication of their numbers and glance at the ticket one more time to find I’m in seat G4, window.

The row numbers are above the seats. I walk down the aisle to G, and there is Edna. What’s your seat number? she asks.

G4, I respond, hoping I’m next to her.

You’re right here with me. Put your bag up there. She points at the storage bin above the seats. I stow my stuff away but keep my smaller bag with me.

I step around her and sit in the seat by the window, swallowing hard.

You’re going to have to breathe before you pass out, Charly. Edna chuckles. You can pull down the blind if you want. She points at the circular plastic window. If you close it, you’re going to miss out on a beautiful site.

I bravely peek out the window as the engines roar to life. My dad lived in LA.

Oh, your parents are divorced? You’re going to visit? That’s okay. Lots of people are divorced.

No, that’s not it. My parents were never married. I nervously hug my computer bag to my chest. Dad died, and an attorney called me and said he left me his estate.

Charly, I know you just met me, but are you sure this attorney is for real? There are all kinds of bad people that will take advantage of a sweet girl like you.

I can’t help but laugh. He’s real. I did research on him and even called to make sure he works at the law firm, like the letter says.

That’s good. A woman can’t be too careful these days. Edna pulls out a book and begins to read.

I put in my earbuds and pull my computer out from my bag to watch the movie I downloaded last night. I chance a peek out the window and can’t believe what I’m seeing. Everything looks so small. The soft billowing clouds rush by the window. The blueness of the sky is breathtaking. 

I smile to myself. I’m on a plane. Thank you, Dad, for giving me my first adventure, I whisper. A small snore turns my attention to Edna, who is sound asleep next to me.

The stewardess comes by, giving me a drink and menu. I wake