us.
“I’m too shocked, I don’t know what to say
really,” I blurted before I could say something stupid.
“I am too, but, god, look at you, little
one.” Another slow perusal of my body. “I didn’t even recognize you when I
first walked into the room. What are the odds?”
“Right?” I chuckled nervously. “What are
the damn odds…”
“You have to tell me everything.”
“Everything? What do you mean?”
“Dylan? Is he here in LA. too? How about
your mom and dad? Is everyone okay?”
“Yes. They are all fine. Mom and Dad still
live in San Francisco. Same house, actually. Dylan is in D.C. He is a teacher,
and married to the sweetest girl. Can you believe that?”
I kept walking backwards.
Small steps, Olive. You’re so close to
freedom.
“Actually, I can.” His smile got even
bigger as he sat on the edge of the office desk. “He wanted to be a teacher
ever since middle school or something like that, and family was always
important to him. No wonder he couldn’t wait to start his own.”
Finally reaching the door, I rested my
back against it and waited for the perfect moment to escape.
“God, Olive, you can’t even imagine how much
I missed you guys.”
“When you stopped calling, they missed you
too.”
He arched an eyebrow. “So, you didn’t miss
me?”
You hurt me, you big, sexy meanie , I wanted to say.
“Um, sure. Of course.”
His dimple disappeared and he straightened.
When he started walking toward me, I had nowhere to run.
“What’s wrong with you, little Olive?”
Reaching out, he tugged a strand of my hair, a gesture so old that it tugged at
something in my heart. “I’m not your friend any more?”
He had remembered. The hair-tugging thing he
had started doing every single time he saw me was like a warm ‘hello’ from him.
I used to love it, thinking he couldn’t keep his hands off of me. I had been in
love with him. You could call it a crush, but for me, it was pure love. He’d
been my one and only wish on every single one of my birthdays.
“I would’ve thought you’d be happy to see
me, too, Olive. If not happy, hell, maybe a little excited. My ego is taking a
real beating.”
“Sorry,” I said, wincing a little. “It’s
been a…a weird day, to say the least.”
“Still not admitting that she missed me,”
he muttered almost to himself. His eyes seemed to be taking in every inch of my
face, yet I chose to focus on a spot over his shoulder. His face wasn’t strange
to me, as mine was to him. And I remembered that tender look all too well.
Hell, it was just one of the things that made me swoon for him.
“You’re a writer,” he commented, as if the
thought had just occurred to him.
“Looks like it.”
He hit me with that dimple again. “Tonight
I’ll be reading your words.”
Panicking, I said, “Oh, you really don’t
have to. It’s not even that good. It’s my first book and these people are plain
crazy.” His smile got bigger and bigger. “I might even be getting punked right
now. I’m being serious, you wouldn’t even like it, Jason. And what kind of a movie
star are you that you have enough time to read a book?”
There was sex in that book! Pounding.
Fucking. Sucking. Orgasming.
Oh, dear god. There were words like cock and pussy!
He chuckled. “Now you’ve intrigued me even
more. I’ll have to read it as soon as I get home. Plus”—he lifted a finger when
I opened my mouth to object again—“I just said I’m in to the studio execs who
are interested in turning your book into a feature film. I think I should know
what I’m signing up for, don’t you think?”
“Why did you even say that if you have no
idea what it’s about?”
“My agent dragged me here, saying it was a
good choice for me. I’m guessing he knows about your book and I trust him.”
“Fine. You go do that. I have to go.”
Taking a step to my right, I opened the door. “It was so good to see you. Goodbye
now.”
His eyes lit up.
“I’m too shocked, I don’t know what to say
really,” I blurted before I could say something stupid.
“I am too, but, god, look at you, little
one.” Another slow perusal of my body. “I didn’t even recognize you when I
first walked into the room. What are the odds?”
“Right?” I chuckled nervously. “What are
the damn odds…”
“You have to tell me everything.”
“Everything? What do you mean?”
“Dylan? Is he here in LA. too? How about
your mom and dad? Is everyone okay?”
“Yes. They are all fine. Mom and Dad still
live in San Francisco. Same house, actually. Dylan is in D.C. He is a teacher,
and married to the sweetest girl. Can you believe that?”
I kept walking backwards.
Small steps, Olive. You’re so close to
freedom.
“Actually, I can.” His smile got even
bigger as he sat on the edge of the office desk. “He wanted to be a teacher
ever since middle school or something like that, and family was always
important to him. No wonder he couldn’t wait to start his own.”
Finally reaching the door, I rested my
back against it and waited for the perfect moment to escape.
“God, Olive, you can’t even imagine how much
I missed you guys.”
“When you stopped calling, they missed you
too.”
He arched an eyebrow. “So, you didn’t miss
me?”
You hurt me, you big, sexy meanie , I wanted to say.
“Um, sure. Of course.”
His dimple disappeared and he straightened.
When he started walking toward me, I had nowhere to run.
“What’s wrong with you, little Olive?”
Reaching out, he tugged a strand of my hair, a gesture so old that it tugged at
something in my heart. “I’m not your friend any more?”
He had remembered. The hair-tugging thing he
had started doing every single time he saw me was like a warm ‘hello’ from him.
I used to love it, thinking he couldn’t keep his hands off of me. I had been in
love with him. You could call it a crush, but for me, it was pure love. He’d
been my one and only wish on every single one of my birthdays.
“I would’ve thought you’d be happy to see
me, too, Olive. If not happy, hell, maybe a little excited. My ego is taking a
real beating.”
“Sorry,” I said, wincing a little. “It’s
been a…a weird day, to say the least.”
“Still not admitting that she missed me,”
he muttered almost to himself. His eyes seemed to be taking in every inch of my
face, yet I chose to focus on a spot over his shoulder. His face wasn’t strange
to me, as mine was to him. And I remembered that tender look all too well.
Hell, it was just one of the things that made me swoon for him.
“You’re a writer,” he commented, as if the
thought had just occurred to him.
“Looks like it.”
He hit me with that dimple again. “Tonight
I’ll be reading your words.”
Panicking, I said, “Oh, you really don’t
have to. It’s not even that good. It’s my first book and these people are plain
crazy.” His smile got bigger and bigger. “I might even be getting punked right
now. I’m being serious, you wouldn’t even like it, Jason. And what kind of a movie
star are you that you have enough time to read a book?”
There was sex in that book! Pounding.
Fucking. Sucking. Orgasming.
Oh, dear god. There were words like cock and pussy!
He chuckled. “Now you’ve intrigued me even
more. I’ll have to read it as soon as I get home. Plus”—he lifted a finger when
I opened my mouth to object again—“I just said I’m in to the studio execs who
are interested in turning your book into a feature film. I think I should know
what I’m signing up for, don’t you think?”
“Why did you even say that if you have no
idea what it’s about?”
“My agent dragged me here, saying it was a
good choice for me. I’m guessing he knows about your book and I trust him.”
“Fine. You go do that. I have to go.”
Taking a step to my right, I opened the door. “It was so good to see you. Goodbye
now.”
His eyes lit up.
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