Page 54 of 7 Miles High
The car is packed and ready for its trip back to San Juan Capistrano. The last few days have gone too quickly. It seems like I just arrived.
“Let’s plan your next visit. I’m going to be filming on location for three weeks straight next month. I want you to come. For as long as you can.”
She sets her Diet Pepsi down and dabs the corners of her mouth with the paper napkin.
“When you’re in Dallas?”
“Yeah. The film will wrap there. You’ve never been to a wrap party. I’d like to take you. Show you off if I’m being honest.”
I don’t think she minds the truth, because there’s a big wide smile on her face. In reality it’s only the partial truth. Mostly, I just want to be with her. Everything’s different when she’s with me. Better.
“My mom and dad will be there for a week. They’re visiting my aunt who lives in Fort Worth.”
“I could come. Maybe not for three weeks, but for two for sure. I can always have one of my associates show a property if I’m not available.”
“Great. Let’s plan on it then. I’ll send you the itinerary and details where we’ll be staying.”
“Is it in a hotel?”
“Yeah. This time it is. When we stay for an extended period of time, production gets the department heads houses. But this is a quick turnaround. Everyone will be at the hotel. Well, except for the two leads.”
Wrapping up the other half of her burger, she saves it for a later hour.
“I’m going to have this for dinner. I love me a good burger.”
She’s so fucking cute. Besides being beautiful, there’s an all-American spirit to her that brings out the young girl. I bet she was the most popular girl in her class. Oh yeah. I can see it now. It’s so obvious.
“Were you a cheerleader in high school?”
The surprise is all over her face.
“Where did that one come from?” she chuckles and takes another sip of her Pepsi.
“I just bet you were. I can see it now. You in a short skirt, your pom-poms on display for all the boys to lust after.”
Her finger points in my direction. “Wrong!”
“What? You weren’t a cheerleader? I don’t believe it.”
Counting on her fingers, she lists my failed conclusions. “One. I was not a ra ra girl. Two. I wasn’t popular in the least. My breasts were nonexistent and I weighed twenty pounds more than I do now. I had braces and rubber bands for two of the four years. By the time I was rid of them it was in the summer between my junior and senior years. Three. I wasn’t aware of any lustful gazes in my direction.”
My chin dips and I give her the side-eye of doubt. “Just because you weren’t aware, doesn’t mean it wasn’t happening, my dear. All men are whores.”
That one makes her laugh out loud, and makes me join her.
“It’s funny because it’s true. We’re all whores at one time or the other,” I say.
“Just as long as you don’t self-identify now. I can’t be part of a man whore’s harem. Just so you know, I’d be gone if there was even a whiff of that,My dear.”
The point is made and heard. “No worries. I feel the same. Why would I go anywhere else for love when I have the best of the best?”
Oops! The word slipped out. There was no holding it back. It passed quietly and swiftly like a grain of sand would in a river of flowing water. I had little to do with the timing. As if the feeling picked its own spot to reveal itself to the world.
Her expression says so much, without saying the one thing I want to hear. Lips are pressed together, eyes are a little wider. She’s staying perfectly still as if moving an inch would release hidden thoughts and secrets only she is privy to. I can’t tell if she’s happy or afraid. If this pleases her or gives her pause for thought.
I know this though. It wouldn’t be right to say more. Not until she feels it too. I’ve done my part in putting the concept out there. Now it will be Natalie who confirms or denies if it’s true for us both. No pressure.
