Charlie^^^^

Being a Domme is as much a matter of attitude as actions.

────────

Monday, April 28, 1990

Georgia, to me, has the hottest weather I know of. The humidity being the worst part of it. What could be a pleasant 80-degree day anywhere else can feel like 100 degrees of living hell here. Living in the center of the state as I do only makes things hotter.

On a day like today, there is only one place that would make me feel better. It is a three-hour drive to the old cobblestone streets of Savannah and the beautiful white sandy beaches of Tybee. You don't feel the humidity so much there. In heat like today, that's all I can think about.

Most of my late teen years were spent on those beaches. My best friend Cindy and I made sure we took that three-hour drive every weekend during both our junior and senior years of high school. At the time, our tan was at the top of our "must-have" list. Not to mention the abundance of young men on hand to enjoy.

Now, at twenty-one, I find myself hiding in the shade of the open bay door of my dad's auto repair shop. It is nearing May, and even in the shade, you can still feel the burn of the sun's rays. It is the end of a long Monday, and I am watching traffic as it passes by the shop. I just have to wait for my last customer of the day before I can head home.

This shop has been my family's business for more than seventy years. It all started with my granddad, Charlie Lane Reese II. After years of working as a sharecropper on his father's farm, he learned that you get nothing in life without a lot of hard work. He opened the shop just after he was honorably discharged from the Army. He made enough profit to support his wife and son.

That same son has run the shop for the last forty years. My dad, Don Reese, raised me to love cars. He made sure that I knew family came first and that this business was the lifeblood of that family.

It's now my turn to take over.

My name is Charlie Lane Reese III. I was named after my granddad. He was a great man, and I am proud to share his name. Though he and I did not always agree on a woman's place in this family.

I still remember how he and my dad fought over my place in the world.

"She should be at home with Lucille, learning to cook and keep a house! That's her place!" I could hear my granddad shout at my dad from the top of the stairs, where I was hidden. The sound of pots banging in the kitchen let everyone in the house know that Lucille, my grandmother, did not agree with him. I had to cover my mouth to hide the giggle at her reaction.

"Dad, she is only twelve, and her place is wherever she wants it to be. She's a natural at repairs and enjoys working in the shop. I won't force her to be something she is not!" My dad has always fought for me. Even against the woman who gave me life.

The only problem with me taking over the business was the fact that I am a woman. In this small Southern town, men ruled. They held most of the jobs of power. The only place for a woman was in the kitchen, barefoot and pregnant, and that was not for me.

My dad raised me to be independent. He also gave me a love for working on cars. I got most of my looks from him, too. Like him, I was taller than most my age. My 5'11" height made most men look the other way. None wanted a woman as tall as or taller than them. I had his dark hair and olive skin tone. The only thing I got from my so-called mother was my green eyes.

Now he thinks I am ready to take over the shop. We both expected the business would suffer because I was in charge. Not many men in town wanted a woman knowing more about cars than they did.

His plan was for him to retire without our customers knowing. He would just spend less and less time at the shop until he was no longer needed. By then, I would be in full control. I just hoped my temper would hold out long enough for that to happen.

We had informed our workers, and they were fine with the change. Cindy was the clerk. She took in the money and kept the work orders going. She had also been my best friend since high school. She was the cute little blonde men loved to have hanging off their arm. She was looking for her prince charming.

Jay was the other mechanic at the shop. He and I had worked together for ten years. He was the only other man I knew who liked me working on his car. He was twenty-one when I started hanging out at the shop. I learned a lot from him in those first few years. He was the ultimate lady killer, but a good man.

Now, if we could just get my customers on board with me being in charge.

Just like Big Jim Jones, a local big-time farmer.

Today he brought in his wife's new Mercedes-Benz for a simple oil change. Instead of just dropping off the car and having his wife pick it up later like a normal person, he felt the need to stay and oversee every move I made on the car. As if I had not done thousands of these since I was eleven.

"Just making sure the little girl knows her stuff," he declared to my father as he strutted around the shop like a bantam rooster.

My father's response, you may ask?

"Well, Big Jim, if you knew your stuff, you wouldn't need my little girl."

He said this without ever cracking a smile. Jim and my dad had a long and dark history.

Jay and I didn't hold back. We were both rolling on the floor with laughter. Needless to say, Big Jim suddenly found himself needed at the turf farm he owned and left. Although not without a few choice parting words for my dad.

With annoying customers and back-to-back jobs, the last thing I wanted to do in this heat was wait on Big Jim's wife. Mrs. Wanda was supposed to get her car around noon. It is now well past 5 p.m., and she is still a "no-show."

My father, the brave man he is, hides in the office. So this lovely task is left up to me.

Because her husband held seats on the school board as well as the city council, she felt her importance. It did not bother her that she had made the shop stay open longer than it was supposed to.

When she does show up, she is the picture of the perfect Southern lady. She is dressed in a flowery-print blouse and cream-colored capris, topped off with leather sandals and a classic Aigner bag. She walks like a queen across the lot.

"Well, hello, Charlie. How are you on this fine day?" she sighed in her sticky-sweet Southern voice.

"I'm just fine," I grumbled.

It was on the tip of my tongue to tell her that I was, in fact, damn tired of dealing with assholes like her husband all day long.

She totally missed my tone and regally walked into the shop with her nose held high. Cindy was waiting to take her money. I spied Cindy as she agreed with some comment that Mrs. Wanda made to her. The exchange seemed a little off to me, but I was too ready to go home to question it.

I quickly made my way to her car and drove it up to the door. I made sure that her car was pointing in the direction of the road so she could leave as soon as she was done.

Mrs. Wanda had other plans as she stepped back out into the heat. She started a conversation with me that made me see red.

"Did you hear that nice young Tray Martin is coming home?" she questioned me with a perfectly sweet smile.

There it is—the helpful hookup.

I swear, I don't know what makes every married Southern woman think she is the best at matchmaking. It must be in the water.

Well, I have a way to nip this in the bud.

"Why, I did hear something about him and his husband separating."

I knew exactly why he was returning home. We talked at least once a week. He and I had been friends since grade school. I even played the part of his girlfriend so he wouldn't have to come out in this hick town.

Mrs. Wanda's face turned green, and she stepped up her pace to her car.

"You tell that father of yours I said hello," she quickly shot back at me over the roof of her car.

Now she had no time to chat.

"Oh, I sure will," I mumbled back.

I chuckled as I went about closing up the shop doors. At that moment, my dad popped his head out of his office.

"She gone?" my dad whispered from around the door of his office.

"Yes, Dad."

I let out a heavy sigh as I continued pulling down the bay doors. We both waved goodbye to Cindy as she made her way to her Mustang LX.

I locked up the front door to the shop, and we slowly walked to our own rides. Remembering today's run-in with Big Jim, I couldn't help but ask again.

"How much longer until you plan to fully step away?"

"I will finish up the interviews in the morning. I want to make sure I have a man you can trust. You will need to divide your time between cars and customers. Jay will have to get along with the new guy, too. They will need to work well together."

He explained, "The trial days will start soon. We'll see how well they can work. After that, I think about two more weeks."

"But, Dad..." I whined.

I started to try for one more year working for my dad. It was not that I couldn't handle the business, but I knew my temper. I would blow my top if I had too many customer complaints like Big Jim. There were a lot more men where he came from.

My dad cut me off before I could get started.

"They will come around. Don't worry about the ones who don't. Their business we don't need. You are smart, you know your stuff, and you are a hard worker. That's what people are looking for when it comes to keeping their cars on the road."

"I know. You have told me this a million times. I just don't want to run the shop into the ground because some jerk can't stand that I fixed his car," I huffed annoyingly.

The last thing I wanted was to fail at the business that my granddad started all those years ago.

My dad took me in his strong arms for a hug.

"You'll be fine, Cha Cha," he whispered reassuringly.

He held me at arm's length.

"Now get on that bike and go home. Just remember Sunday dinner at the cafe, and don't be late."

He gave me a gentle push.

I just wish there were some way I could have the same power as a man. Then I wouldn't need my dad to front for me. He could enjoy his retirement without worrying about me. I could run my business just like any other man in this town. Then I could prove that my granddad was wrong about where I belonged.

There had to be something out there to help me.

I just wanted to live my life like every other dominant male in this town.

I just had to find a way to do it.