about that, but at least not for now,” I said, although I was afraid never was more accurate.
CHAPTER TEN
I opened my eyes to slits, realized it was daylight, and pulled the pillow over my head. The morning sun was a bit too much for my state of being, and I needed a moment to adjust. Although I had no idea how many margaritas I drank for sure, my head told me I had consumed too damned many.
I vaguely remembered devouring half of a mammoth pizza.
I inhaled a long, slow breath and smiled to myself at the fresh scent of the pillowcase. After a moment of regaining my senses, I slid the pillow from my face and gazed up at the ceiling.
White?
Since when is the bedroom ceiling white?
I turned to the side.
The bedroom was not a familiar place. Although there were many of them, I had been in all of the bedrooms in the mansion I was living in – or at least I thought I had. I looked around the room for anything that sparked a memory.
I saw nothing.
The room had cream colored walls, a white ceiling, and white crown moldings. The dresser, nightstand, and headboard were a modern contemporary design. The walls were adorned with modern abstract art, and the corner of the room had two odd shaped – but very tasteful – sculptures. In the corner, a large walk-in closet that was obviously completely empty.
Nothing looked familiar.
Not at all.
I jumped to my feet and realized short of my shoes, I was in bed fully clothed. Another quick glance around the room revealed a handwritten note on top of the dresser.
Lou,
I checked on you a few times this morning, but you were sleeping. Sorry. Had to get to work. Just lock the door and pull it closed behind you.
Had a great time talking.
Can’t wait to do it again.
Franky
I closed my eyes and tried to recall what had happened. Like a movie edited by a schizophrenic squirrel, bits and pieces of the night played in my head. I had ridden home with Franky. In a Jeep. We ate pizza. He made me a milkshake.
I remembered stairs.
Lots of them.
And declaring my hatred of Rhett for being a selfish prick, being a pizza prick, and being a prick in general.
Shit.
I walked to the window and pulled the blinds. Sure enough, the house I was living in sat across the street.
Fuck.
I pressed my hands against my pockets and then remembered I had relinquished my phone to comply with the rules and requirements of the show. Nervously, my eyes darted around the room again. Sitting beside the door were my shoes and socks, which I had no recollection of removing. As leaving my shoes at my bedroom door was a habit of mine since childhood, it stood as a simple display of further proof that I was much drunker than I realized. I surely didn’t remember leaving them there.
I found slight satisfaction in knowing that I slept in what appeared to be a spare bedroom. I found further satisfaction that I was still dressed.
Thank you.
Now, all I had to do was figure out how to get back home without Rhett, the camera crew, or anyone in production knowing where I had been. For them to find Franky would be disastrous.
I got my shoes on, wandered through the huge – but very warm – home, and found my way to the back door. I peered through the glass and into the massive space. Equally as impressive as the deck and pool at the home where I was living – if not more – the area was lusciously landscaped, furnished and decorated no differently than the home I was temporarily living in.
Neatly and tastefully.
I opened the door, locked it, and pulled it closed behind me. As I wandered toward the corner of the yard, I decided I needed to know much less about Rhett, and much more about Franky.
But first, I needed to make it home without raising any eyebrows.
And, I wasn’t so hungover that I didn’t realize that doing so, in itself, was going to be tricky.
Very tricky.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
I pushed open the door cautiously, hoping everyone short of Bobby was gone. Much to my surprise,
CHAPTER TEN
I opened my eyes to slits, realized it was daylight, and pulled the pillow over my head. The morning sun was a bit too much for my state of being, and I needed a moment to adjust. Although I had no idea how many margaritas I drank for sure, my head told me I had consumed too damned many.
I vaguely remembered devouring half of a mammoth pizza.
I inhaled a long, slow breath and smiled to myself at the fresh scent of the pillowcase. After a moment of regaining my senses, I slid the pillow from my face and gazed up at the ceiling.
White?
Since when is the bedroom ceiling white?
I turned to the side.
The bedroom was not a familiar place. Although there were many of them, I had been in all of the bedrooms in the mansion I was living in – or at least I thought I had. I looked around the room for anything that sparked a memory.
I saw nothing.
The room had cream colored walls, a white ceiling, and white crown moldings. The dresser, nightstand, and headboard were a modern contemporary design. The walls were adorned with modern abstract art, and the corner of the room had two odd shaped – but very tasteful – sculptures. In the corner, a large walk-in closet that was obviously completely empty.
Nothing looked familiar.
Not at all.
I jumped to my feet and realized short of my shoes, I was in bed fully clothed. Another quick glance around the room revealed a handwritten note on top of the dresser.
Lou,
I checked on you a few times this morning, but you were sleeping. Sorry. Had to get to work. Just lock the door and pull it closed behind you.
Had a great time talking.
Can’t wait to do it again.
Franky
I closed my eyes and tried to recall what had happened. Like a movie edited by a schizophrenic squirrel, bits and pieces of the night played in my head. I had ridden home with Franky. In a Jeep. We ate pizza. He made me a milkshake.
I remembered stairs.
Lots of them.
And declaring my hatred of Rhett for being a selfish prick, being a pizza prick, and being a prick in general.
Shit.
I walked to the window and pulled the blinds. Sure enough, the house I was living in sat across the street.
Fuck.
I pressed my hands against my pockets and then remembered I had relinquished my phone to comply with the rules and requirements of the show. Nervously, my eyes darted around the room again. Sitting beside the door were my shoes and socks, which I had no recollection of removing. As leaving my shoes at my bedroom door was a habit of mine since childhood, it stood as a simple display of further proof that I was much drunker than I realized. I surely didn’t remember leaving them there.
I found slight satisfaction in knowing that I slept in what appeared to be a spare bedroom. I found further satisfaction that I was still dressed.
Thank you.
Now, all I had to do was figure out how to get back home without Rhett, the camera crew, or anyone in production knowing where I had been. For them to find Franky would be disastrous.
I got my shoes on, wandered through the huge – but very warm – home, and found my way to the back door. I peered through the glass and into the massive space. Equally as impressive as the deck and pool at the home where I was living – if not more – the area was lusciously landscaped, furnished and decorated no differently than the home I was temporarily living in.
Neatly and tastefully.
I opened the door, locked it, and pulled it closed behind me. As I wandered toward the corner of the yard, I decided I needed to know much less about Rhett, and much more about Franky.
But first, I needed to make it home without raising any eyebrows.
And, I wasn’t so hungover that I didn’t realize that doing so, in itself, was going to be tricky.
Very tricky.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
I pushed open the door cautiously, hoping everyone short of Bobby was gone. Much to my surprise,
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