I crawled back into bed and pulled his pillow to my chest, enjoying the soft scent of his cologne that still lingered on the pillowcase.
“You’re whistling,” Marie said as she tapped a pitcher of beer for a waiting customer.
“Sorry. I’ll stop,” I apologized to her, fearing it was annoying. “That will be two dollars, sir.” I smiled at the older gentleman that I just served.
Marie’s eyes glared at me. “Whistling? Extremely good mood? He was here last night, wasn’t he?” she accused.
I couldn’t hide my smile. “Maybe!”
“No wonder you turned me down when I offered to come over.” Marie nudged me in the shoulder.
“It wasn’t planned, believe me!”
“When he calls, ask him what he did with all the cobwebs. We need to make more hats for the needy,” she said dryly. “Or did he call you already
today?”
I smirked, secretly acknowledging that I spoke to him earlier at lunchtime and again mid afternoon.
Marie grabbed my elbow and uttered her words privately. “If you screw this relationship up I swear I will kill you myself!”
“Believe me, I’m trying not to!” I confirmed, returning to washing a few dirty glasses in the sink.
“So are you seeing him later? I could close for you if we’re not that busy,” Marie offered.
I wished I could take her up on that, but Ryan had other obligations.
“He’s catching the redeye to Newark tonight. He has an interview and a dinner meeting in Manhattan tomorrow.”
Marie gave me a questioning look.
“He’s doing a little press for his last film,” I muttered.
I saw the light bulb go off in her head. “Oh, Reparation, right?”
I laughed lightly from the absurdity of her knowing so many details about my boyfriend’s life.
Ryan, of course, called me later that evening.
So, are you all packed for your trip?” I asked.
“Almost. I’m packing right now. I wish I didn’t have to go to Manhattan, but at least it’s a short flight from here. You found my schedule, right?”
I smiled. Ryan cared for me to the point that he wanted me to know his entire schedule, and this was the second time he asked me if I had it.
“Yes, I have it on the refrigerator. Hopefully you can slip through the airport unnoticed.”
“That’s the plan!” he stated exuberantly.
I grabbed his schedule to review it again. Wednesday morning he had an appearance on an early morning show at seven. At one p.m. he had a
photo shoot, and then last on his agenda was a dinner meeting with his manager and some producer later that evening.
He had an early flight back to Rhode Island Thursday morning.
“This schedule says you have to be back on set on Thursday. Jeez, did they even factor in a bathroom break here anywhere?” I groaned. I
wondered how he could stand living such a hectic life.
He laughed. “No. I have to hold it!”
“According to this schedule, it looks like you can go to the bathroom on Saturday around eight p.m.”
“I’ll have to reschedule that. I’m hoping to have other plans,” Ryan stated, like we were having a business meeting.
“The interview on Wednesday is really early in the morning,” he groaned. “That’s going to be the killer.”
“Do you know what questions they are going to ask, or do they just spring their questions on you?” I wondered. I pictured him having to answer
on the fly and how nerve racking that must be to come up with coherent replies.
“Sometimes they give you an idea of what they’re going to ask, but most of the time it’s just unscripted banter. Every one of these interviews is
pretty much the same. Tell us about the movie, what’s it about, how does it feel to be playing that character. It’s all quite mundane.”
“That is until they ask you those uncomfortable, personal questions,” I joked. “I noticed you rub your forehead when you don’t like the question.”
“I do what?” he asked inquisitively.
“You rub your forehead. When you get uncomfortable or upset you rub your forehead. You probably don’t even realize you’re doing it.” I couldn’t
help but tease him.
“So tell us, Ryan…” I started, using my best fake talk-show host voice. “All the women in the audience want to know what type of underwear
you’re wearing right now. Or… everyone wants to know if you are dating someone. You squirm in your chair and then you rub your forehead. It’s your
tell.”“
My what?” he laughed.
“Your tell, you know? Like when you’re playing poker? It’s that unconscious movement or action that lets everyone know you’re bluffing.”
“Oh, tell. Yeah, I know what that means. Great, now I’m really going to be self-conscious on stage. Not only do I have to worry about the stupid
questions and my mumbling answers, I’ll be worrying about touching my face and giving my secrets away.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make it worse.” It was hard to plead and suppress a laugh at the same time.
“I suppose I need a new gesture then, huh?”
“Why don’t you rub your middle finger across your eyebrow if you don’t like his question? That ought to be good for ratings.”
He was laughing too hard to reply.
“See, you like my ideas!” I laughed with him.
“Yeah, I do! But I also recall you did the same gesture to me once!”
“Well, pick another one then. But you’ll have to let me know what your new gesture is so I can watch for it.”
“Let me think about that for a minute. There are so many subtle movements I could make that no one would notice. I like this! It’s so evil! Okay,
let me think…
“All right, I got one. I’ll scratch my chin if I really want to tell him to go to Hell. How does that sound?”
I laughed. “Sounds good! No one will even notice. So what does the rubbing your forehead and scratching your chin at the same time mean?”
“Don’t be a smart ass!” he bantered back. “And if he asks me if I have a girlfriend, of course I have to deny it to keep my private life a secret, but
how about I’ll touch my nose with my finger so you know I’m lying?”
I felt my heart skip a beat when he said the word girlfriend.
“So, you have a girlfriend? Do I know her?” I asked, fooling with him.
“Don’t make me hang up on you!” he threatened.
“No, I really want to know. Is she hot?” I joked.
“No, she’s not hot.” He paused before changing his tone. “I’d say she’s more… irresistibly beautiful and incredibly sexy - than hot. And I’m
insanely crazy about her so watch what you say.”
“Wow,” I breathed out as I felt the blood rush from my head. “Good thing I don’t know her. I’m getting really jealous.”
“Well, if you really feel the need to confront her, go look in the mirror. I’ll wait.”
I didn’t know what to say. I was completely astonished. My mouth was hanging open like a fish out of water.
“Why, Ms. Mitchell! Are you speechless?” he teased.
“Yes. Completely.”
“Good. Now while you’re stunned into silence, I’m gonna get going. I want to try and sleep for two hours before I have to fly.”
“Okay, have fun and be careful in New York.”
“I’ll try. I have off Sunday and Monday, if I read the schedule right,” he yawned. “I’m freaking tired. It won’t take me long to fall asleep, even though
I don’t have my favorite pillow to wrap my arm around. But this weekend, I’m really looking forward to fixing that! I’ll call you from New York when I get
a break, okay? Good night, sweetheart. Pleasant dreams.”
The sunrays were just starting to beam through my window when my alarm clock chimed. 6:55 a.m. flashed in large red numbers as my eyes
adjusted to the light. Part of me wanted to hit the snooze button and enjoy ten more minutes of sleep, but the other part wanted desperately to see
him again.