“Oh, yeah. I remember him. He asked me out.”
“You guys would have been a beautiful Barbie and Ken set.”
“Thanks.” Her tone was dry. “I didn’t realize he’d been in that apartment. I tried not to notice where he was coming from so he wouldn’t think I was interested. Anyway, I mention the apartment because I saw movers there last night and wondered who our neighbor was going to be.”
“Did you see?” I was just making conversation with this question. Dating an apartment neighbor was probably about as smart as dating a coworker.
“No. Can’t tell you if they’re male or female.”
“I guess we’ll find out soon enough. So how’s the day going for you? Are you putting in overtime tonight?”
“Not on a Friday, hon. I’ll catch you at home before you go off to work. How’s old Reggie doing today?”
“Same old. I need to get back and clear my list of things to do while I still have a moment of peace.”
Reggie was late coming back from lunch, making it in to the office at four, which was totally novel. Stranger still was his mood. It was not only much improved from before, but there was a smile on his face and high color on his cheeks. I suspected I knew what he’d been up to—going home to Frank for some nookie, maybe—but didn’t want to dwell on it. Reggie getting hot with anyone was not an image I wanted haunting my brain. I decided to stick to business.
“Call log’s on your desk. Letter for Jerry Whitmore is ready for you to look at, and I finished reading the scripts you gave me yesterday.”
“Any good?”
“One is great. I left notes in two of them. They’re also on your desk.”
“Excellent.” He continued to smile down at me in what was becoming an uncomfortable moment.
“Are you okay?” I asked hesitantly, not sure of what was going on. I’d never seen Reggie act so strangely. He was actually being nice. It was creeping me out.
“Taylor, I don’t think I’ve ever told you this, but you do good work.”
“Thank you...Reggie.”
“Keep this up and at your next evaluation, you’ll get a big surprise.”
“Great.” Was he on something? His eyes were clear. He didn’t look flushed or feverish. “Did you have a good meeting with Simon?” Did he slip something into your drink?
“It went as expected. You know how Simon is. He’s needy. Needs me to tell him everything’s okay, needs me to tell him that it’s normal for studios to make you wait. You know. He needs me to hold his hand some. Hey, listen. Why don’t you take off early? It’s Friday. No one’s going to call at this time, at least no one important.” He threw back his head, laughing at his own joke.
“Really?”
“Yeah. Just do me a favor. Frank loves chocolate, and he asked me to send some over. He wanted to meet you, actually. He said you’ve been very kind to him on the phone, which I appreciate, by the way. Will you go by that new bakery on Sunset, Cacao, and pick up a half-dozen chocolate croissants and take them over to my place? The chocolate that woman uses is just to die for. It’s dark and rich, like me.” He chuckled again.
“Okay. Sure.” I looked at the clock. It was only four-thirty, and I was leaving work. I would normally be here until at least seven. What the hell was I going to do with my free time?
“Here’s a fifty.” Reggie handed me a bill from his wallet. “Keep the change.”
“Are you sure?”
“Get going! I’ll see you on Monday.”
Okay. So, Frank was living with him now. This was the first that I’d heard this bit of news, not that I was Reggie’s confidante or anything. I was just required to make regular trips, completely thankless errands, for Reggie that involved either dropping off or picking up some object or other from his home. I couldn’t help but know more of his personal business than I really wanted to know. Maybe with Frank living in, Reggie would get his rocks off more regularly and be kinder in general.
I could hope.
The streets through town were already congested with traffic, making the one-mile drive down Sunset Boulevard take two or three times as long as it needed to. The line at the bakery was nearly out the door, attesting to the popularity of the place, and I played with my smartphone while I stood in line, wishing the people in front of me away. I noticed a guy checking me out from across the room and immediately turned away, pretending to be texting, so he’d be less likely to approach.
That’s when I realized how right Cynthia was. I do hide. It was something I needed to consider if I wanted a real sex partner and not just my very real fantasies. Though after last night, I really couldn’t complain. The thought made me giggle.
By the time I pulled up in front of Reggie’s elegant home in the hills above Hollywood, my irritability had skyrocketed because nearly forty-five minutes had gone by, and I figured I might as well have remained at work. At least then I could have enjoyed the air-conditioning, something my old clunker had trouble producing, on this bitch of a hot summer day, and I could have avoided the stress of nasty traffic.
At the front door I rang the bell, but I got no response. There was no sound for several minutes. I knocked, thinking maybe the doorbell wasn’t working properly, but still, nothing. Now what? I knew where the key was hidden because I’d had to enter the residence a number of times, but now Reggie had a live-in guest. I didn’t want to scare him, if he was in the middle of a shower or a bathroom run, but the darn chocolates were going to melt in this summer heat, and dammit, I was ready to get home and rest for once before having to get my clothes on for my second job.
“He’s just going to have to deal with it,” I muttered as I got the key from the potted plant by the door, thinking of this faceless Frank guy who was maybe home and maybe not. For all I knew, he could have been out at the gym or getting an espresso somewhere.
A blast of cold air hit me when I stepped through the front door, and a sigh of pure pleasure purred from between my lips. Yes. The A/C was on full blast. I recovered quickly enough to glance around. No one was in the foyer. I didn’t want to startle anyone, so I called out, but I only heard my voice echo off the white marble flooring.
The living room was straight ahead and showcased an amazing view of the hillside homes through an enormous window that stretched from ceiling to floor and wall to wall. On a good day, you could see celebrities frolicking in several modes of undress. Being on the hillside, with a huge picture window, allowed you to see any number of naughty behaviors going on, but I wasn’t interested just now.
Bypassing the view, I made my way through to the kitchen and figured the house was being kept at arctic temperatures, so the chocolate would likely be okay if I just left it on the counter. Deciding to leave a note, I grabbed a sheet of paper from the magnetized notepad on the side of the fridge. The pen was missing from its holder, which wasn’t unusual, so I dove into the junk drawer, shoving the random items out of the way.
That’s when I encountered the piece of metal that curled around my fingers upon being touched. I gasped, jerking my hand out of the drawer, but it clung.
It was cool looking. Shiny. It was as if the metal had turned to liquid and dripped around my fingertips. Then it conformed and stuck to me. Without thinking about it, I picked it off to get a closer look, and much to my surprise, it seemed to be warm. It conformed to my hand no matter how I touched it, making an immediate imprint of my fingers, which was weird and amazing at the same time. It left me wondering what kind of metal could do this.
But I was here for a reason. I had to remember that.