Page 88 of 7 Miles High
“We can’t stay home when you look like this, Natalie. It would be selfish of me to keep you to myself. Besides, Steven and Jack are expecting us. It’s important to support their films.”
“Alright, but let’s make it an early evening.” I flash an exaggerated air kiss and a shoulder roll.
“Hmmm. Woman, are you saying you want to take advantage of me? Because I’ve already imagined peeling that silver dress from your shoulders. You sexy thing.”
“For you I am.”
He takes me in his arms and looks in my eyes.
“Did you bring tissues? Jack said this one is a tearjerker.”
“I did. I meant to ask you, is it strictly for cast and crew?”
“Not really sure,” he says, letting go. “We better go before it gets too crowded.”
“Should I call Bliss and ask her to save us seats? Those screening rooms aren’t that big.”
“NO!” He says it way too loud, which makes me start laughing.
“What the hell was that? Did you just get goosed?”
“Uh, I don’t know why I did that!”
How weird.
He waves it off. “No, I just don’t want to interrupt them. You know how Jack can be. These things make him nervous.
My doubting eyes question the statement.
“They do? I never would have guessed. He’s such a cool even tempered guy. That’s a surprise.”
“Ready?” he asks, ignoring my last comment.
I look him over as we walk out. “You’re the one who looks nervous,” I chuckle.
* * *
We easily find a space in the lot. Which is a shock because Parker forgot his cell and we had to go back to the house.
“I thought it would be crowded. We’re ten minutes late you know,” I say.
“Fucking Los Angeles traffic.”
The car at the end of the aisle looks exactly like Matt’s mustang. No. He doesn’t have anything hanging from the mirror like that one does. Or the figurine of a saint on the dash.
“Doesn’t matter. I got a text from Steven saying they’re a little behind. You know how it is.”
Parker exits and comes around to my door.
“Thank you,” I say, getting out.
He adjusts his collar and waistband. He looks uncomfortable as we head for the entry around the corner.
“Take my hand,” I say, reaching for his.
“Oh! Sorry. Yeah, of course.”
I’d swear there was something afoot. Parker never looks anxious. Except for tonight.
