Dressing Mr. Dalton

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Dressing Mr. Dalton Page 12

by Charlotte Byrd


  Maybe I am just being a little too sensitive.

  “I have an idea,” he says. “Go out with me tonight. Dinner. Nothing fancy. Just a regular date. Then, hopefully, you’ll see that I’m just like anyone else.”

  I smile.

  He walks closer to me and puts his hand on my hand again.

  This time, I don’t remove it.

  Maybe he’s right.

  Nothing that happened between us so far has been normal, and maybe that’s why I’m feeling so off by the whole situation.

  I nod.

  “Really?” he asks.

  “Yes, really.”

  “Okay, I’ll pick you up at seven. And don’t worry. We’ll go somewhere private. There won’t be any fans or photographers. Just the two of us.”

  I like the sound of that.

  A lot.

  When I get home from work, I don’t have much time to decide what I’m going to wear, let alone discuss the intricacies of what’s going on with Lila.

  Of course, Lila won’t let up.

  She knows the gist of what happened Saturday night and is as excited by the whole situation as any person could possibly be.

  “You’re going out with who tonight?” Lila asks when I get home.

  “Finn,” I say, spraying my hair with dry shampoo.

  I washed it this morning, but it still managed to get greasy in less than eight hours.

  “Wait, what?” Her eyes get big and her mouth drops open.

  “You heard me.”

  I look in the mirror. Definitely need to retouch my makeup.

  “No, you’re not.” She shakes her head.

  “I don’t know what to tell you.” I shrug, reapplying some more eyeliner.

  Why is it impossible to perform this simple task without opening your mouth slightly?

  “Wait a second, let me get this straight. You got stood up on a date and Finn Dalton asked you to be his date instead. And then you threw up all over his floor, didn’t sleep with him, and now you two are going out on a date?”

  Her words hang in the air between us until I finish covering my lips in rose, a light pink shade of lipstick.

  “Weirder things have happened,” I say.

  “Not many.”

  “Why is this so hard for you to believe?” I ask.

  “Because…because…girls who color their own hair from a box do not go out with movie stars!” Lila finally says.

  She’s right, of course.

  “This one does,” I say with a smile.

  32

  Chloe

  I go into my room and rummage through my closet for a pair of black leggings and a white blouse.

  Finally, I settle on a violet sleeveless top with a floral design.

  “You’re not wearing a dress?” Lila says with contempt. I shake my head no. “How can you not wear a dress? Or at least a skirt?”

  I look at myself in the mirror.

  “Because I’m not a big fan of dresses or skirts. You know that,” I say, changing in front of her.

  “But you’re going on a date with Finn Dalton!”

  “I know,” I say, putting on a fresh pair of low-rise panties and a black matching bra. “But the thing is that I want to be myself on this date. The last date we had…well, it was interesting, to say the least. But on this one, I want to be myself. My true self. And I want to wear what I would wear if I were going out with a normal guy. Besides, I think I look pretty good in this.”

  I look at myself in the mirror.

  With a nice pair of pumps, I look pretty sexy.

  The leggings give my body a nice outline and elongate my legs.

  There’s a knock on the door.

  “I just don’t think you should go on a date with a movie star dressed as if you were going to get a cup of coffee with your sister!” she hisses as she walks toward the door. “Who is it?”

  “Um, this is Finn. I’m here to pick up Chloe.”

  “Oh my God, Chloe!” Lila whispers loudly to me. “He’s coming here? Why didn’t you tell me that he was coming here?”

  “I thought I did. He’s my date. He’s picking me up,” I say with a laugh. “Can you please open the door? I need a few more minutes.”

  I close the door to the bathroom slightly and just stand here staring at my reflection in the mirror.

  Perhaps it was a little unkind to not warn Lila that Finn was coming here.

  I know that it will be awhile before she forgives me for the fact that she met him wearing an old pair of sweats, with very little makeup on and with her hair in a bun.

  But the look on her face made it all worth it. It was priceless.

  “Come on in…I’m so sorry about the mess. But Chloe didn’t warn me…didn’t tell me that we’d be having company.” I hear her mumbling through the door.

  “It’s okay, really...you should see my place…. So, you’re Chloe’s sister, huh? The actress.”

  “Yes, yes, I am.”

  “Hi.” I walk out of the bathroom.

  Finn looks me up and down.

  After a moment, his eyes settle on my face. His smile fills up the room.

  “Oh, wow,” he says. “You look…amazing.” I nod. “You, too.”

  Finn is dressed in a casual pair of gray slacks and a button-down shirt.

  The sleeves are rolled up, and he’s not wearing socks with his loafers.

  He takes a few steps closer to me, putting his arm around my waist and pulling me in for a peck on the cheek.

  It’s so casual and effortless, it makes my knees a little wobbly.

  “I’m going to go now, Lila,” I say, walking past her.

  She seems to be in a trance, so I nudge her a little to push her out of it.

  “Sure, sure,” Lila whispers. “What time should I expect you?”

  My faces flushes red.

  Now it’s my turn to be embarrassed, and the look on Lila’s face confirms that the question was an accident.

  “Um, I don’t. How about you just don’t?” I say.

  “Oh…I see,” she says with a coy smile.

  I roll my eyes and walk out.

  Finn follows closer behind me.

  We walk downstairs in silence.

  Luckily, he isn’t parked too far.

  When we reach his car, he holds the door open for me like a gentleman.

  “So?” he says, pulling away from the curb.

  “So what?” I ask.

  “Apparently, your sister shouldn’t be expecting you home tonight.”

  Not him, too. I roll my eyes.

  “Don’t get your hopes up,” I say with a smile. “I just said that to rile her up. To say that she was impressed with my date would be a huge understatement.”

  “Oh, yeah? Am I not your usual type of date?” Finn asks.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I look him over.

  He’s shaved since this morning – that chiseled jaw is pronounced and strong.

  “How’d you guess?” I ask.

  “So, who’s your typical date, then?” he asks. I don’t reply. He turns to me as we speed down Sunset Boulevard.

  “Actually, I haven’t been on a date in a while.”

  “Why?”

  “My sister dates for the both of us,” I joke. “I don’t really know why. Just had a long-term boyfriend for a while, and no one special really came along.”

  “Wow, you are different.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, this is LA, Chloe. Most people don’t date only special people here. They just date. But I guess I’m flattered.”

  “Oh, please.” I wave my hand dismissively at him.

  “No, I’m serious. I am.”

  “Hey, who said that I’m going out with you because I think you’re special? You saved me from being stood up, and we’re colleagues, as you’d said. Plus, you begged and begged if I remember correctly.” I don’t want his head to get too big. It seems to be big enough.

  “Yes, of course.” Finn n
ods with a smile.

  “Okay, so where are we going?” I ask, trying to change the subject. It’s all getting a little too personal for my taste.

  “My place.”

  “Your place?” My mouth nearly drops open. “I thought that we would have a normal date?”

  “We will. My personal chef is making us a special dinner. All I said before was that I’d take you somewhere private. Somewhere we can get to know each other a little better.”

  “Okay,” I mumble.

  Honestly, I’m not sure how I feel about this.

  He senses my hesitation.

  “Listen, you don’t have to worry. No pressure. Seriously. This is just dinner. And I’ll take you home afterward, like a proper gentleman.”

  I nod, trying to process exactly what he’s saying.

  I look at him and search his face for any ulterior motives, but I don’t spot any.

  He appears to be genuine, completely honest.

  But how could I be sure? He is an Oscar-winning actor.

  Still, I decide to go with my gut.

  And my gut says trust him.

  You can trust him.

  33

  Chloe

  On the half an hour drive over to his house, I discover that Finn and I have a lot in common.

  We both love the 90’s boy band *NSYNC, the Cuban dish of mango and rice, and dark chocolate.

  His favorite grade in school was third grade, and he hated eleventh grade so much, he almost dropped out.

  I told him that high school wasn’t the best for me either, but I loved college.

  I had debated going to a large university like the University of Southern California, where my sister went, but I now think that Oberlin College was the perfect fit for me.

  “What is it in particular that you liked about Oberlin?” Finn asks me as we pull into his driveway.

  “It was just the right size. I’m not as outgoing as Lila, and I know that I would’ve gotten lost in a larger school. Oberlin also focused on the liberal arts, and it really taught me how to think critically, and reason. I think that’s really important in today’s day and age. Especially since our world is so technological.”

  “You know, I agree with you. I mean, math and science education is very valuable, especially if kids are taught computers and how to write code and stuff like that. But there’s nothing more liberating than reading fiction or philosophy or drama. It really enriches the experience of being a human being,” Finn says.

  I turn to him.

  I hate to admit it, but a big part of me is surprised that those words are coming out of his mouth.

  Perhaps I thought that he was too pretty to be actually smart, as well.

  I follow Finn up the steps through the double doors of his house.

  He says hello to the chef, introduces me, and leads me to the dining room.

  The sun is just setting over the horizon, and all of LA is illuminated in bright colors of orange and yellow below us.

  I take a moment to catch my breath.

  “Do you ever regret not going to college?” I finally ask.

  “Sometimes. Well, no, that’s a lie. I regret it a lot, actually. But when I finished high school with my private tutor, my career was just taking off. I was getting a lot of interesting offers, and I wanted to pursue it whole-heartedly. But I’ve regretted it so much that I’m actually taking courses now.”

  “You are? What kind?”

  “Online courses. I’m doing my bachelor’s degree in liberal arts at Western New Mexico University. It’s an individualized program that allows me to study pretty much whatever I want. I think I’m going to do a double major in English and Philosophy.”

  “Oh, wow, that’s amazing.”

  “Thanks. It has been really challenging and educational. And the best part of doing it online is that the people in my class and most of my professors don’t know who I am. I don’t want to be one of those self-centered actors that say how difficult fame is, blah, blah, blah. But it has its challenges, and one of those challenges is that it’s difficult to know how people actually feel about you. My online courses allow me to have this private life, which I never thought would be possible.”

  “That’s really great, Finn. I’m really proud of you,” I say, putting my hand on his.

  “Chloe, I’ve never told anyone about this program before. Well, outside of my really close friends and family. Ariel didn’t even know about it.”

  “Your ex-girlfriend?” I ask. He nods.

  “Why not?”

  “It didn’t feel like the right thing to share with her. I didn’t feel comfortable. But with you…I don’t know, it’s different.”

  I nod. “Well, your secret is safe with me,” I say.

  “Yes, I know. That’s what scares me.”

  I look around the table.

  The table is covered in a crisp white, linen tablecloth.

  The dining room has seating for eight, but instead of sitting on either end of it, our place settings are put next to each other.

  Finn sits at the head, and I sit next to him.

  A beautiful centerpiece of wildflowers separates us, creating a romantic ambience.

  A waiter comes around and lights the two thick candles next to the centerpiece and asks what we would like to drink.

  “I don’t know,” I say, shrugging. “I don’t even know what we’re having.”

  “Do you mind if I order for you?”

  I shake my head no.

  “We’ll have two glasses of Pinot Noir,” he says quickly.

  After the waiter leaves, Finn turns to me and explains, “We’re having vegetarian dishes for dinner and dry rosés made from traditional red wine grapes go well with a variety of vegetarian dishes without overpowering the fresh flavors.”

  “Vegetarian, huh? Are you a vegetarian?” I ask.

  “No, not entirely. But I’m really trying to eat healthier, so I thought this might be a good choice. Do you like vegetarian food?”

  How can I put this tactfully?

  No, not really.

  My idea of vegetarian food is Caesar salad, and I can’t have Caesar salad for the rest of my life.

  Of course, I’ve heard that there is a lot of variety in vegetarian food, but I’m rather uneducated about the whole thing.

  Besides, there’s no way that it can taste as good as chicken or a burger, right?

  “I haven’t had that much to tell you the truth. Besides salad,” I say. “Is there any reason why you’re trying to eat healthier?”

  He shrugs and looks away.

  “Well, I might as well tell you, I guess. But please don’t tell anyone, okay?”

  I nod.

  “My mom was recently diagnosed with lung cancer. She never really smoked, except for a few years in the 70s. I started reading about it, and apparently a lot of red meat causes cancer and so do sugars and carbohydrates. Besides getting chemo, my mom is starting this intense natural food program…it’s basically a raw vegan diet. And she needs support, so I agreed to do it along with her.”

  “Wow, that’s intense,” I say.

  I’m taken aback by his frankness and openness.

  I look at his face.

  It has graced the covers of numerous magazines.

  It feels as familiar as a photo of any of my family members, but there always seemed to be a distance between the person in the photo and the guy I knew from work.

  Except now.

  The distance between us is quickly disappearing.

  “Thank you for telling me that. I had read about that, too. But you know how it is, I always think that nothing like this will ever affect me. Or at least, not for a while. I can always start to eat healthier later.”

  “I used to think that, too. But with my mom’s diagnosis, it really came front and center. It just put everything in perspective for me.”

  The waiter comes back with a platter and one plate of food on it.

  “For the first course, toast wi
th fava beans, an avocado spread, and pea shoots,” he says and walks away.

  “Wow, this is delicious,” I say.

  I don’t really know what fava beans are, but they are a perfect complement to the avocado spread and pea shoots.

  As we continue to chat about his mom, the rest of our food arrives.

  For the main course, we are served a lentil and pineapple salad with olive oil and fruit vinegar, vegetable barley soup, and kale risotto with spicy tofu pieces.

  The food is fresh and light, and it fills me up to the point that I feel like I’m going to explode.

  “We have a choice of desserts,” the waiter says after clearing our plates.

  When he looks at me, the expression on his face changes drastically.

  “I’m sorry,” I say before he has the chance to ask me what’s wrong. “But I ate a little too much, and I’m going to have to pass on the dessert.”

  Finn smiles and tells him that we’ll have dessert a little later.

  “That happens to me a lot,” he says. “Vegetables can be quite deceptive. They have the tendency to fill you up way more than you’d think.”

  “That’s quite an understatement,” I say.

  34

  Chloe

  After dinner, we walk out onto the patio for a breath of fresh air.

  Darkness has settled over the City of Angels.

  Instead of standing here on the edge of his patio, something suddenly comes over me.

  I put my foot on the first rung of the railing and climb up.

  “What are you doing?” Finn asks, mildly amused.

  “This view is unbelievable,” I say. “It makes me want to see even more of it.”

  Two more steps up and I’m walking along the top of the railing.

  “You’re crazy,” he whispers.

  “I feel crazy.”

  Not just crazy.

  Insane.

  What am I doing?

  I don’t know what’s come over me.

  On top of this being somewhat unsafe (I did have two glasses of wine and I am wearing heels), it’s also somewhat disrespectful to his property.

  But neither of these things occur to me in the moment.

  No, in this moment, I feel like a bird.

 

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