Liberating Mr. Gable

by Tuesday Embers

  Anson was waiting impatiently, and doing a terrible job at hiding it. “You okay?” he asked with too much edge to his tone.

  “Of course. I just had a question about the unicorn you ordered.”

  “Thank you again, sir.” Anson shook Mr. Goldman’s hand, who gripped back more firmly than he usually did.

  He looked at the younger man with a paternal glint Anson had never seen before. “You take care of this delightful young woman. Your new agent will be in touch this evening. On behalf of the company, I apologize for Serena. I appreciate your discretion concerning the matter.”

  “Goes without saying.”

  “Take care, dear.” Len patted Etta on the back and sent the two on their way, smiling at the stream of questions from Anson that Etta deflected.

  First Date

  Butterflies swarmed in Etta’s stomach as she got dressed for the evening. She had been in LA for a week, and had yet to do much out of the house. Most of their time indoors had been in comfortable clothing. Etta was amazed how relaxed she felt around him. Her paralyzing fear over the newness of LA melted away the more time she spent basking in his adoring gaze.

  “You’re really not telling me what you asked Mr. Goldman?” Anson called through the bathroom door.

  “I already told you. I asked him for eighteen million dollars, so I would wear the pants in our relationship. He said no after offering me a favor of my choosing.” She shook her head in mock disappointment. “Welcher.” Etta looked at her reflection, resigned at her best effort at looking date-like. Her mid-length khaki skirt and lavender blouse did nothing to boost her confidence that she might belong on Anson’s arm.

  “The more you don’t tell me, the more I’ll think it’s something bad.”

  “Oh, it is. I really asked him for the keys to the chocolate factory. You think we’re going to dinner tonight, but we’re skipping straight to dessert. Dibs on the everlasting gobstoppers.”

  “I’ll find out. I’ve got Jordan. You’ve never seen that man on a real mission.”

  She bumped the door with her fist once. “I’m in the bathroom, Anson. Do you have any idea what I’m doing in here?”

  “Torturing me? He gave you his personal cell phone? I don’t even have that!”

  “Maybe it’s because you bug people when they’re in the bathroom? Len’s a smart man.”

  “He asked you to call him by his first name? He’s one of those enigmas you assume is born with the first name ‘Mister’. Even his assistant doesn’t use his first name.”

  “Sheesh! You wore me down. He’s really my long-lost Aunt Lenora. We had a very tearful reunion. Pity she dresses like a man.”

  “Fine. Keep your secrets.”

  Etta tried to make sense of her hair, but as usual, had no idea where to start. It ended up in a simple ponytail. She sighed at her reflection. You are who you are. No sense being upset about it. You look fine.

  Etta rolled her shoulders back and leveled her chin to the floor, facing her appearance with confidence. That confidence lasted four seconds. Upon opening the door, Anson picked her up and flung her onto the bed. He pounced atop her, pinning her arms above her head. “I have ways of making you talk.” Delighting in her girlish squeals, he nipped at her collarbone, but then quickly diverted his face to her armpit, blowing a loud raspberry there. She kicked and squirmed, but to no avail. She was very ticklish, and in moments of torture he resorted to such measures. “You asked for it, little duck.” He released her arms and grabbed her sides, squeezing and tickling until she was gasping for breath.

  Beneath him lay his angel. The girl who saved him from the mess he was becoming before he met her. Tonight would be their first night out in his hometown. He learned the ropes of hers because she had been patient with him. As he observed her flushed face, messed-up ponytail and shirt twisted up above her navel, he thought to himself that he had never seen anyone more breathtaking. His mood shifted quicker than even he could keep up with, and before he knew it, he was sucking on her lower lip as she made pleasant hmming noises that drove him wild. She was his perpetual virgin, and he would have it no other way.

  After they sated their need for each other, Anson excused himself to make a phone call. Etta redid her hair, frowning at her reflection in the gold-rimmed bathroom mirror. Anson was downstairs, so she assumed that when the doorbell rang, he would get it.

  Five more times it chimed, and Etta’s concern grew. It was not her house; she did not feel right answering the door. Yet, it seemed irresponsible to leave the caller unanswered. She straightened her chestnut tangles as she made her way down the stairs to the front door. The bell rang again as she reached for the knob, and she called for Anson. Upon hearing no response, she opened the door, only to find her boyfriend holding a bouquet of flowers and wearing a wide grin. A blush crept over her, and she suddenly became unbearably shy at the attention he was going out of his way to pay her. “Anson, what…”

  “I’m here to pick you up for our date.” His jeans had been exchanged for nice trousers, and he was wearing a pressed shirt he wore tucked in.

  “I’ve never seen you all fancied up before.” Etta blatantly ogled the specimen holding flowers in front of her. “Am I dressed okay for whatever we’re doing?”

  “You’re perfect.” His tone was sincere, and he looked so hopeful on the porch. He handed her the lavender and yellow roses, watching her every move as she eyed the beauties with wonder.

  “No one’s ever bought me flowers before. I mean, at funerals, sure, but not like this. Not for a happy reason. Totally different experience this way.” She stuck her nose deep in the petals and inhaled the fragrance until it filled her. “So beautiful.” She looked up at him through the petals and smiled. “I would invite you in, but since this is our first date, you probably shouldn’t just yet. A girl can never be too careful.”

  Anson reined in his dimple and gave her a modest smile along with his courteous head nod. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Let me just go put these in some water, and I’ll be right out.” She turned, but paused. “Where are the vases?” she whispered.

  Anson whispered back, “Jordan set one out on the table in the kitchen.”

  “Right.” She shut him out of his own house, leaving him on the porch to wait for her. Etta giggled to herself at the little game as she filled the vase and set the flowers inside, taking a moment to admire them. She reopened the door and found Anson patiently waiting with his hands in his pockets. “I’m ready now.” Anson moved in to kiss her, but she pulled away. “Not so fast. We haven’t even been on a date yet. What kind of a lady do you think I am?”

  Anson balked. “But we just made out in our bedroom!” He shook his head at her, but stopped his indignation short when Etta reached up on her toes and kissed his lips softly. “You are one confusing vixen.”

  Etta laced her fingers through his. “You called it ‘our bedroom’.”

  “Should I have called it our sex dungeon?”

  Etta blanched. “No. It’s just that you moved me in. For real. Not just my stuff, but me. It’s not your room in your head, but it’s our room.” She permitted his hand to cup her hip. “Girls love little things like that.”

  “Good to know.” Anson took her to the garage for the first time, opening the car door for her.

  “A Honda? Really?” Etta pretended to scoff. “No jag? Mercedes? Hovercraft? Space jet?”

  “Hey, now.” Anson gave her a sideways smirk. The levity dissipated as he made his way down the driveway and through the security gate, the world around them invading their perfect twosome. His knuckles tightened around the steering wheel, and he watched oncoming traffic with hawk-like eyes.

  “Are you alright?” Etta inquired, taking in his tight lips and strained neck muscles.

  “I’m just glad you talked me back into taking a lower dose of my meds instead of going off completely. Stuff like this stresses me out. It’s like, at any second the honeymoon bubble’s gonna pop, and you’ll see what
you’re really in for.” He made a careful turn into traffic. “I’m just glad I got the chance to woo you with the house and the car and all that first. Give you something to keep from running back to the mountains.”

  Etta rested her hand on his knee. “I’m not going anywhere. Jordan told me it gets tense when you’re recognized. I’ll just follow your lead.”

  He rested his hand atop hers and steered with his other. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.” He snorted. “Actually, yeah I do. I’d be holed up in my house, paying Jordan to bring me groceries once a week so he could make sure I’m still alive. You saved me. I hope you know that.”

  Etta squeezed his thigh. “No more than you put me back together. How about we just go out tonight with the mindset that we never were the shut-ins we almost tried to be? We can just be two teenagers on our first date.”

  “And if it goes south?”

  Etta shrugged. “If you get recognized, you’ll smile and sign autographs. Jordan told me to always keep walking, or else they’ll pin you into a corner. I’m guessing you’ll get mobbed mostly by girls. I’ll just slip into the crowd of them and meet you at the car.”

  “No!” he countered a little too loudly. “No, Etta. No matter what happens, stay with me. You don’t know the city, and I don’t want to lose each other.” He lowered his voice as he scratched his chin. “I won’t get through the screaming if you’re not there to calm me down.”

  Her hesitance was clear in her pause. “But then people will know you’re with me. I mean, there’ll be no turning back after that. Are you sure that’s what you want?”

  He balked, taking two seconds to stare at her when they were stopped at a red light. “I asked you to move in with me. Do you know how many women I’ve lived with? You’re the first. It’ll all come out eventually. I’d rather it be when you’re by my side. There’s no telling how long Serena will keep her mouth shut. I have a meeting with my new agent tomorrow.”

  Etta sighed, gearing up for what she was trying to dance around saying. “I looked at all those cut-outs of your old girlfriends and fiancées. They…” She stared resolutely out the window to avoid his glances. “I don’t look like them. I never will, and no matter how the world feels about you dating someone like me, I don’t want to look like them.”

  It took Anson four deep breaths to hone his response into something kinder than a rant. “I don’t know where you got it in your head that you’re not top shelf, but you are. I could have my pick, and I choose you. I just need to know that no matter how bad it all gets, you’ll choose me, too.”

  “I choose you,” she promised. “No matter how big this all gets.”

  He grasped her hand and kissed it, holding it tight until they reached the restaurant. Anson passed the keys to the valet and took Etta’s hand as they walked into the restaurant. The Maître D’ greeted Anson with an awed but knowing look and showed them to their table in the back corner of the restaurant. “Most places try to put me at the front window so people can see me eating their food, but this place is great. They don’t leak when I’m here, which is why I rarely go anywhere else.” Anson spoke low in her ear, keeping his head down as they walked.

  Etta was perhaps more on edge than he was. It was not just the possibility that at any moment the bubble of privacy might burst, it was also that she had never been to a nice restaurant before. She could feel the diners looking at her, judging accurately that she did not belong. She tried to give Anson a reassuring smile when they sat across from each other, but it came out more of a grimace. She fumbled with her menu and tried to make sense of the sushi selection. “I’ve never had sushi before,” she commented, taking inventory of where the many glasses and dishes were on the table.

  The tan-skinned, dark-haired waiter came by and filled their goblets with water. “Mr. Gable, how nice to see you. It’s been too long.”

  “Hey, Ralph. I was on vacation. How are the kids?”

  Ralph put on a decently convincing smile. “Kennedy got on the honor roll.”

  “That’s great. And Ralph Jr.?”

  Ralph’s smile stayed securely in place, but he shook his head to indicate that Ralph Jr. was not in the honor roll arena. “Your usual wine choice?”

  “Etta, what do you feel like?” They usually drank basic French red wine when they were at her place. He was not surprised when she asked for the same thing, her voice scarcely audible.

  When Ralph left to retrieve their wine, Etta put the menu down with a fretful expression on her face. “Anson, could you order something for me? I don’t know what any of this stuff is! Eel? Like, the thing in the ocean?”

  Anson chuckled, finally allowing himself to relax across from her. “I would’ve taken us to a different place, but you’re in LA now. Best get you introduced to good sushi.”

  “I trust you.”

  He grinned wickedly at her. “See how much you trust me after I make you eat octopus.”

  The sushi was better than Etta was expecting. The chopsticks were worse. She wanted to give up after the third mangled bite, scowling at Anson’s mocking. “Hey, I didn’t laugh at you when you were learning how to crack an egg.”

  “Yes, you did!” he accused, laughing again when she dropped the bite of octopus onto the table. His face was red with joy when she gave up and stabbed the piece of food with one stick, grinning up at him triumphantly. “This is honestly the most fun I’ve had in a restaurant.”

  “If that’s true, then you’ve been doing it wrong.” She frowned at the remaining food. “I’ve never had to work so hard for my dinner. No wonder everyone in LA’s so thin. They can’t get the food in their mouth! For crying out loud. What’s a girl got to do to get a fork around here?”

  Covering his mouth as he chewed, he chuckled. “Oh, I wouldn’t let them bring you a fork if you begged. This is too entertaining.” No one in the restaurant was near enough to pay them any mind. Anson was finally able to relax and enjoy their date, completely taken with Etta’s antics.

  “Speaking of entertaining,” she commented, forgoing the chopstick and using her fingers instead. “Can I watch your movies sometime?”

  Anson took a long sip of his wine before answering. “I guess that’d be okay. Could I not be there, though? I don’t like to watch myself on camera.”

  “So you’re a perfectionist.” She chewed thoughtfully. “It’s your job, and I know nothing about it. You’ve seen me do just about everything for the B&B, but I’ve never seen you do your job.” She traced the top of her glass. “For all I know, you just stand in the background with your shirt off, smile at people and call it ‘acting’. I can’t be properly impressed with you until I see you in action.”

  “Hey!” He pretended to be offended. “I’ve won awards for my ability to just stand there and smile at people with my shirt off. I was named Best Actor two years ago.”

  “I’ll be the judge of that.”

  “You are a magnificent piece of work. You know that, right?” He watched her struggle with the last piece of sushi on her plate. “Do you want to go to a movie now?”

  “One of yours?”

  “Nice try. I was thinking something bloody and violent, so you have to jump into my arms and won’t leave my side all night long. You’ll be all scared. I’ll have these giant muscles to impress you with.”

  “That sounds good.”

  “Anything you want to see?”

  Etta tapped her chin. “Hmm. The last movie I saw in the theater was Home Alone with my parents. Papa wasn’t a big fan of movie theaters. Plus, the nearest one to the B&B was like, forty-five minutes away. And you’ve seen the movie collection we have.”

  “Was that four movies you had that were in color?”

  “Four and a half, I’ll have you know. The DVD is scratched partway through The Wizard of Oz.”

  Anson took out his wallet and slapped a one hundred dollar bill on the table. “Let’s go, then.”

  Etta gasped. “Was this dinner really that expensive?”<
br />
  “No. I’m just a big tipper. Why do you think Ralph took such good care of us?” He lowered his voice. “His son is having some problems. A little extra money in Ralph’s pocket helps him handle some of the bail he always needs for Ralph Jr.”

  After she recovered her surprise, she took Anson’s hand and exited the restaurant with him. “I like that you genuinely care about the people you know. You’re a good person.”

  “Right. Leaving a decent tip is the same as saving a complete stranger from freezing to death in the cold.”

  She rubbed his fingers, recalling how frozen he had been when they first met. “I’m glad I found you.”

  Anson led them three blocks down to the movie theater, just in time for the next showing of a slasher movie he had heard buzz about.

  “Oh, thank goodness. Food!” Etta pulled him to the concessions and bought a hot dog at a price she tried not to balk at.

  “You’re hungry? Why didn’t you say something?” Anson frowned.

  “I’m fine. I just think I burned more calories trying to get the sushi in my mouth than I got from eating it.” When he looked dismayed, she squeezed his hand. “It’s fine, Anson. Did you want one?”

  He looked at the board on the wall and debated. Sushi was delicious, but seeing them load up her chilidog made his stomach feel hollow.

  Before he could answer, Etta fed the clerk more money. “Could you make that two, please?” She looked over her shoulder and gave a coy smile to her boyfriend.

  They took their chilidogs into the theater and sat in the very last row to avoid people looking at them as they passed. Anson kept his head down until the lights dimmed, and then relaxed considerably. He took a bite of his chilidog, but then got distracted by Etta’s unladylike groans of pleasure as she devoured hers. Watching her attack bite after bite of the meat was positively erotic. She licked her lips and giggled innocently when she took more into her mouth than she could handle. She finished before he took his second bite. “Do you want another?” he asked, unable to conceal the lust in his tone. He had gone from not being able to feel any sort of arousal for a woman for two years to lusting after Etta at the slightest thought of her.