“I’m glad you have a plan,” Charles said plainly in remark to her attitude or, at least, how he was perceiving as attitude. He wasn’t really surprised, or even remotely annoyed by it. At least she wasn’t a boring ‘yes sir, no sir, three bags full sir’ type. He just wanted to make sure she didn’t squander any opportunities she had. She seemed smart enough at least to know that.

“Now that’s not what I said,” Charles stood up and went to continue though she interrupted and told him about silly schoolgirls and nasty drama. Oh, not this again. She’d tried this last night and he really didn’t have the patience to deal with this.

“I don’t recall helping any silly schoolgirls who can’t handle themselves. I do, however, distinctly remember helping a drunk someone who clearly was not having the best night,” Charles shrugged, “But I suppose if that means you can’t handle yourself and you need a mans help, then so be it.”

And with that, Charles took a step back. His tone was playful though he knew exactly how she was going to respond. She couldn’t – no, he wouldn’t allow her to – play the independent woman card and in the same breath say she was helpless. She could have it one way or another; not both.

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