To You and Back

Chapter 18: The Charlie Who Was

It was past three in the morning when Charlie finally clicked off his computer and stood from his desk. He stretched the kink out of his back, rubbed his neck, and sighed when he saw the time. It was raining again, which meant cabs were virtually nonexistent, and he hated the overnight train service, because the late night subway rats were of a different breed. The last time he had to take the overnight train, he swore he saw rat fight club. It was disturbing.

He collected his coat and briefcase, glanced around to make sure that everything was in order, and then made his way to the elevator. He depressed the call button and waited. When the silvery doors opened, Charlie did a double take. "Mr. Takahashi," he said, startled.

"Ah, Hill," the other man said. He was in his late fifties, slightly shorter than Charlie's five feet, eleven inches, with a head of straight, thick, black hair, and a face that had stopped aging at forty. He was dressed in khakis and a blue and green floral Hawaiian shirt with a puffy down coat over it.

"Nice outfit, sir," Charlie said, smiling.

The man gave a low, deep chuckle. "Picked it out myself," he said.

Charlie walked in and turned to stand beside him. The doors closed with a soft whoosh and began to drop. "It's unusual to find you here so late, Sir," Charlie said.

"It is late?" Takahashi asked. He rose a finger to tap his temple. "Or am I just very early?"

Charlie laughed.

"When you spend so much time in different time zones, as I do," Takahashi went on, "you realize it doesn't matter when you do anything."

Charlie smiled. "Sounds very wise, Sir."

"Does it? Good, I'll have to remember it, then." The man glanced at Charlie, who was shaking his head and laughing. "I saw you asked for a transfer."

Charlie glanced at him. It was unusual for an executive to see simple transfer requests from assistants. "Yes," he said, "I did."

"Not happy with our department?"

Charlie adjusted his grip on his briefcase. "That's not it, Sir. It's not out of the department, just out of the...office."

"I see." Takahashi put his head straight. Silence. Then: "You know, I'm looking for a new assistant."

Charlie glanced at him.

Takahashi turned to meet his gaze, dark eyes deep and bottomless in the florescent light. "Interested?"

**

When the elevator doors opened on the ground floor Charlie held the doors and let Takahashi move ahead into the lobby. As they passed the front desk, one of the guards on night duty stood.

"Mr. Takahashi," the guard said, "your driver is still waiting out front. Mr. Hill, if you'll wait a minute, I'll call your car around."

"That's fine, Bill, I'll take my chances on the subway," Charlie said with a smile.

"I can give you a lift," Takahashi said.

"Should I let your car go then, Mr. Hill?" the guard asked, phone to his ear and finger posed over the dial.

Charlie frowned. "What car? I didn't call for one."

"Mr. Townsend did, sir," the guard said. "He said to have it waiting for whenever you finally left."

Takahashi gave a low whistle and rose his brows. "Oh ho!" he said. "How considerate."

Charlie glanced at him, then back at the guard, who was also giving him a look with a barely contained knowing smile. He sighed and shook his head. "Just...call for the car already."