Charlie Besso Age Novels & Stories

"How old is this Charlie guy?" "Charles," thing 2 corrected me, "he is thirty...I think?" "Ew," my face scrunched up in disgust, "pedo. Does he realize that Quinn is a teenager and definitely does not like him? He can be in jail for what he did." "I don't know," thing 1 replied, then, his eyes glinted maliciously, "but, you sure as hell seem like Quinn. I am still pretty sure, we have the right girl."

To death. “You’ve got your shirt and tie for tonight, eh?” Logan stands beside me with his hands on his hips. I nod and resume my work of helping my client with his daily exercise “Nio, you know that you can do much better somewhere else, right, my son?” Charlie added his everyday statement. Charlie is a former boxer now in his early fifties. He trains boys here for the money. He once saw me knocking a fellow down the road and he thinks I can do well in the ring instead of assisting Logan with his 'other' hobbies.

In a polite voice, Larissa replied, "I'm 18 this year, in my first year of college." "Is that so?" Charles looked at her from the corner of his eye. He gruntled proudly, "You've already turned 18? You look very young, just like a high schooler!" Larissa responded with a nonchalant laugh. She bid goodbye to Charles, saying, "I've got somewhere else to be. Please excuse me." "Is this how you speak with an elder? I was the one who called out to you. I am not done speaking but you are already wanting to take your leave?" Charles was displeased.

Charlie cut his words when Devanna brought three glasses of warm tea which he placed in a wooden tray. "Come on ..." he said softly. I smile and say my thanks with the biggest smile I have. If I look at her face ... She looks younger than me. Is it possible? Especially when I hear her very childish voice... but she already has children ... means she is older than me? Right? "If I may ask ... how old are you?" I asked, venturing to Devanna. "Me? I'm twenty." She answered casually, there were small lines in her eyes that indicated she was smiling. So Charlie is in his fifties?

He walks over the seat across to Xander. Charlie is 84 years old, he had Liza at his old age with his second wife who was 25 while he was 56. He always says "If his wife's issues haven't killed him, nothing can." "I brought," Xander takes out his briefcase to take some documents, "these to show you the numbers, this year has been smoothly for the company, its consistency..." "Always business as usual with you," Charlie gives a proud grin. "But you don't actually think I invested in your company because I believed in your work, to be honest, I don't even know what your company is all about."

Given that he is almost underage when we started this trend, I'm pretty sure 19 year Olds are allowed to consume alcohol in this part of the country. Let's not guess it's sweet home. "Clear it up! Let's have the loser dancing on the table top too!" Charlie screams, making a fuss out of a little game. "Oh, please! Let's get the newcomer get used to us first! Gerroto baby, get us some glasses please darling." I always baby Gerroto. He's grown up as a friend to me but an enemy to his parents.

“Boss, your date with Miss Dawson is at 7. It’s about time to go.” Charlie was still working. Without looking up, he replied coldly, “You sound so happy. Are you that excited about it?”

"Thank you. Have a seat, and I’ll make you a cup of coffee." I boiled some water in a kettle. Charlie chatted with his new friend, Angel. She seemed kind, and my keen eye for people told me she was genuinely nice. "How old is he? What’s his name? I hope to have a child like him someday!" she exclaimed. "His name is Charlie. He’s turning five this year. I’m not familiar with this place yet, and I’m looking for a nearby school and a job." I figured there was no harm in asking her for help.

“You look like you’re about to send someone off to their death.” “Well,” Charlie chuckles, leaning back into his seat. “Aren’t we kind of doing that? We’re running straight into enemy territory without knowing whether or not they’re expecting us.” “Do you intend to die?” Marty counters. “I don’t know about you, but I plan to live to the ripe old age of sixty.” “Why only sixty? Shouldn’t that be at least eighty or ninety?” Charlie asks, cocking a brow. “No fucking way.” Marty growls. “Like hell, I’m ever going to get wrinkles.”

“Brady is definitely not my type. Besides, he must be a couple decades younger than I am. He’s only hitting on me because he was just humiliated in front of everyone by his pregnant girlfriend, and he needs a rebound. Unfortunately for me, I’m the only single woman under the age of seventy around here.” Charles looked Bev over. She didn’t look that old; he had figured mid-thirties. Now that he looked closer, he could see the laugh lines that hinted at her age. She was probably only a few years younger than he was. “Sounds like you had it under control,” he said. “Sorry I butted in.” He turned to go, but Bev’s hand shot out and rested on Charles’ arm.