by Naomi Niles
I sat down on my bed with my towel wrapped around my waist. “Hey, Hannah. Just got out the shower and I was thinking about you. If you’re not busy, maybe we can get together soon and um, ‘run lines’ again.’ Maybe get something to eat?”
“I’d love that.”
“Good. How’s the day after tomorrow sound?”
“Around here, we call that Tuesday…LOL. But that’s perfect.”
“LOL…right, Tuesday. Well, I will see you then.”
She responded with a smiley face shortly after that. After I got dressed and walked into the front room, Jeff was sitting on the couch eating one of my protein bars as if he’d purchased it. “Really, Jeff?”
He took a bite and held his hands to the side. “What?” he responded, like he wasn’t doing anything wrong.
I smiled, “Nothing, man. Nothing. Are you ready to go?”
“Hell yeah,” he said as he shoved the rest of the bar into his mouth. “I was fucking born ready. Let’s go.”
We arrived at Mason’s, the new upscale bar on Sunset. This was my first time going since it had opened a few months ago. My agent, Marc, raved about how there were so many good-looking women who fraternized inside the bar, but I wasn’t in the mood to find any more women at that time. I was focused on getting my career to another level, and even now, I still didn’t have a desire to fill that void because, as far as I knew, Hannah had already filled it. The line was just outside the door. Men and women were dressed in designer suits, and ladies carried Michael Kors purses like they were the only ones in the store that were left to buy.
I started to ease into the line, but Jeff grabbed my arm. “No, man. We are not waiting in line. I know the fucking owner. We are going straight inside.” We walked past the short line to the front door as the security guard poked his chest out like he was inviting a confrontation. Jeff wasn’t the one to test, though. He seemed as though he was always ready to show off his strength whenever the opportunity presented itself. “Hey, buddy,” he said, smiling. “I was personally invited by Ernesto.”
“Ernesto?” the security guard answered as he glared at the both of us. “Hold tight.” He pulled a cell phone out of his pocket and made a phone call. He nodded in disgust once he heard the answer. Without uttering a word, he stepped to the side and allowed us in. Jeff tapped him on his shoulder and mocked him with a smile as we walked by. Blue and white lights lit up the marble dance floor. The far wall housed a fish tank made from thick glass that would take a shitload of pressure to crack. The bar was made of glass, and the wall behind the counter housed top shelf wine and liquor bottles that were ready to crack open.
“Hey man, everything is on me tonight, all right? This is my gift to you for surviving that fucking shit storm named Tanya and still coming out on top with your movie role,” he said as he put his arm around me and led me to the bar. The music picked up as we headed further inside. Jeff pounded his hand on the bar to get the server’s attention. “Let me have a Long Island iced tea,” he looked at me, “Two of them. My boy is about to make it big in the movies!”
The bartender smiled and went to make our drinks as the women floated into the bar like angelic creatures, full of good times and long nights. I was surrounded by beautiful women, but for some reason, I couldn’t get one out of my mind. Hannah positioned herself in my head with her flawless smile and buxom breasts, sitting on my couch with her legs crossed, waiting for me to get home, and I was just as anxious to get back to her.
Chapter Eighteen
Hannah
Carrie walked downstairs while I was at the stove making breakfast. She stretched her arms and took a seat at the table as I flipped over the last batch of pancakes. “Geez, woman, it is almost 12 pm. I was about to come to your room and check on you to make sure you were still alive.”
“Shit, girl. I went out with Brent last night, and that boy knows how to party. I don’t think I got home until 5 am.”
I turned around to get a look at her. Her hair was sprawled out on top of her head like spider’s legs as she looked on with a blank, zombie-like face. “You look like shit,” I said as I laughed and checked on the pancakes. “So. You’re not telling me anything I don’t already know. You should have brought your ass with me. Shit. It’s not like we’re going to have that time to hang out together once you start filming.”
I turned off the eye of the stove and removed the golden brown pancakes from the skillet. It was my turn to cook breakfast, and it was something that I enjoyed doing. I dreamed of the day that I would wake up in my mansion, surrounded by a fortress-like gate that needed a code for one to enter. I envisioned my children walking down the long, winding stairs with sleepy faces as they dragged their feet to the table. My husband, tall and handsome with a muscular physique, trailed behind them like a security guard. He would wrap his arms around me and kiss me on my lips while we were draped in soft, velour housecoats. Our children would cry out in disgust at our display of affection, but I didn’t care, and neither did he. We wanted our children to see how a man was supposed to love his wife, and vice versa. The first example they would have is what we showed them at home.
“Hannah? Hannah, what is wrong with you?”
“Huh?” I asked as if I had been absent for the past few moments. “I’m sorry, what were you saying?”
She lifted one eyebrow in the air as I sat her plate of food on the table. “Are you on drugs?”
I laughed. “No. My mind is always moving, though. I’m always thinking about one thing or the other.”
She grabbed the syrup and poured it over her food. “Does ‘one thing or the other’ happen to be Ezra?”
“No,” I said, smiling bashfully. “Maybe.”
“Maybe my ass, I know he is in your mind. Hell, if the dick was as good as you said, then he has a good reason to be in there.”
“God, Carrie, it is not just about sex with him. I feel like there is more to him. More to us than just… sex. Don’t get me wrong, it was good.” I drifted off momentarily as I recalled the feeling I had during the time he had my legs pinned to the back of my head. “Real good,” I added with dreamy eyes, “but I just feel like there is more between us than that.”
She swirled a forkful of pancakes around in her pool of syrup, then lifted the butter-soaked morsel into her mouth. “Yeah, there could be more to it, but good sex is good sex. When is the next time you are going to see him?”
“We have a date tomorrow. It’s been a few days since we’ve seen each other. I hope things aren’t weird between us now. It doesn’t seem like it will be, but you know, sometimes things don’t go the way you planned.”
She took another bite. “Don’t worry about that. If the chemistry was there beforehand, it would still be there after. We need to find you something to wear, though. Something that will help keep his attention. That shit in your closet is not edgy enough.”
“Please, Carrie. What I have in my closet is fine.”
“We will see.” She got up and went to the refrigerator to grab a bottle of beer. I looked at her in disgust as the poured a few drops onto her food. “What?” she snapped as my face balled up like a discarded piece of paper.
“That is nasty.”
She rolled her eyes, “Whatever, Hannah. I need my morning dose, and I usually get in in my breakfast.” She cut a piece of her pancakes and dipped it into the beer and syrup concoction. “You wanna taste it?”
I pushed her hand away, “Um, no. I’ll pass. That is all you.”
She shoved it into her mouth as I chuckled and finished my breakfast with thoughts of Ezra floating around in my mind like balloons. After we had finished eating, we went into my room as Carrie scanned through my clothing. I sat on the bed as she yelled from the closet, “No. No. Nope. Not this either.” She grabbed a dress and walked out of the closet holding it in her hand. “Hannah, what the fuck is this? Is this your grandma’s dress or something? Did she give this to you as a keepsake before she passed away?”
I placed my script on the bed and stood up, snatching it out of her hand. “No! I happen to like this dress, Carrie!”
“I don’t care what you like, that dress is horrid! Polka dots? Really? It goes down to your fucking ankles, and it’s not even a sundress. I would disown you as my friend if you ever in your life wore some shit like that when I was around. You need to trash that thing right now before I steal it out of your closet and take it to the Goodwill. Shit, they might not even take it. They just might send it back,” she said, laughing out loud.
“Whatever. I’ve had this dress for years.” I hung it back in my closet. “And you better not touch it. That is staying with me for good.”
I flopped back onto my bed as she shook her head, “All right,” she laughed. “Whatever you say. Keep your ugly little dress, but from what I see right now, we need to go shopping. You don’t have anything that will catch his eye.”
“From the looks of it, I’ve already caught his eye.”
“True, but you need to keep it, and he has already seen you in your sexiest dresses. I don’t want you to wear the same thing because he will think that you are broke.”
“Carrie, I am broke!”
“Well, he doesn’t have to know it! Shit. Get up,” she said, pulling at my arm. “We are going to go shopping and get our nails done for your date today because I will be busy all day tomorrow and won’t have the time.”
“No, Carrie. I really need to focus on this script. We are–”
“We are going to the store. End of story.” She took the script from my hands and tucked it under her arm. “I will just hold onto this for now, Hannah. You hop yourself into the shower and get cleaned up because we have to get you ready for your date tomorrow. All right? All right. How much time do you need?” She spoke without giving me a chance to respond. “One hour? No, two. Let’s just say two. In two hours, you better have your ass ready to go, all right? Good.” She walked out of my bedroom with her script tucked into her armpit.
“Carrie, be careful with my script!”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Just get your ass in the shower and get ready!”
She took me to the strip on Rodeo Drive in Beverly Hills. It was out of my price range, but Carrie said that she was taking care of everything today. That was one thing I could count on her for. She didn’t always pay her end of the rent, but whenever I covered her, she never hesitated to splurge on me and show her appreciation in other ways. She was a good friend, and if it wasn’t for her, I wouldn’t have had the opportunity to star in a major movie.
We arrived in Beverly Hills. The sun shone down on us as we perused the sidewalks. Palm trees blew in the wind as if they were waving goodbye to distant lovers. Everyone walked with bags hanging from their arms and a bounce that said they were important, even if they weren’t. I felt out of place, but Carrie wouldn’t allow me to show it. “Now,” she said as she slid her Dolce & Gabbana shades over her eyes while we sat in her car, “don’t go out here shy and shit. You see how they are walking,” she said, pointing towards a group of women. “That is how you walk. Rock your ass from side to side and make sure people see your confidence. You are a borderline movie star, and soon enough, you’ll be right out here with them on a regular. But for now, you have to act like you have already made it.”
She tapped me on my leg, “And I know you don’t have a problem with acting. You were born for it. Now, lights, camera, action!”
She opened her door and shortly afterward, we walked side by side down the strip as if we owned the streets we walked on. Our catwalk was in sync with each other as we hopped from store to store, trying on dresses that cost as much as a month of rent. “Oh my God, $900?” I asked, looking at the price tag.
She smacked my hand, “Fuck, Hannah!” she hissed. “Don’t fucking embarrass me. Nobody looks at the price tag out here, and besides, I’m paying for it, so who cares.” She took the dress off the shelf and handed it to me. “Go try it on.”
I snatched it from her and then headed into the dressing room. The small room was all white with body-length mirrors on each wall. The floors were polished to a shine bold enough to hold my reflection as I stood above. The slit on the two-piece dress stopped in the middle of my thighs and fanned out to the side from that point down, leading into a small train to the back. The top portion of the dress was white with gold patterns that covered my chest and left my arms bare. I felt beautiful. Sexy. It was something that I knew Ezra would love as soon as he saw it.
Carrie impatiently knocked on the door a few minutes after I dressed. “Come on, Hannah. Let’s see what you look like.” I took a deep breath and unlocked the door. It swung open like the door of a castle as Carrie’s smile widened from ear to ear. “Oh. My. God. You are fucking gorgeous! Yes! Yes! That is the fucking dress, Hannah! That is the fucking dress!”
I couldn’t contain my smile as I stepped into the hallway. It was full of mirrors on each side, and as I walked down the middle aisle, I got a good look at the way the dress fit me. The way it hugged my curves up top and still found a way to accent the little ass that I had behind me. It seemed like the dress was tailor-made for me as I spun back to Carrie. “I love it,” I said. “I absolutely love it.”
“It is yours, girl. That dress has your name all over it. Ezra is liable to rip that shit right off of you as soon as she sees you.” She paused, “But at $900, if he snatches that dress off, he better pay me back every dime I spent on it! I’m not playing, either. As a matter of fact, both of you will pay me back! Shit.”
As I walked back into the dressing room, I didn’t want to take it off. I felt like Cinderella the night she met her fairy godmother. I was already anticipating the date with Ezra, but now, I could hardly wait.
Chapter Nineteen
Ezra
It was 9 o’clock when I arrived at Hannah’s loft. I sent her a text as I sat in the parking lot to see if she was ready. “Can you come upstairs, please? I just need about 20 more minutes.”
“LOL – sure, no problem. Which floor?”
“Just go to the security desk and tell them you are here to see me. They will call my roommate, and she will let you in.”
“OK.”
I got out of my car and headed through the double doors of her building. The security desk was positioned front and center. Long, potted plants decorated the corners of the room as vines extended onto the walls like veins. The relaxing sound of water splashing into a wishing well danced throughout the room. “Hi,” I said as I approached the desk. “I am here to see Hannah Black.”
The older security guard was frail, and he didn’t look built to stop anyone if push came to shove. He seemed to be there just for show more than anything else. “All right, what is your name, sir?”
“Ezra.”
He phoned upstairs to their room, and once he received confirmation, he walked me to the elevator. “She is on the 8th floor. 826. Enjoy your stay, sir.”
“Thank you.”
Jazz music played throughout the speakers on my way up. Each floor lit up as I passed by, anticipating my date with Hannah. Jeff had made me nervous about what to expect the next time I saw Hannah. I didn’t know if she would clam up now that we had intercourse, or if she would be the exact opposite. I looked towards the top of the elevator as I inched closer to the 8th floor. Just then, the elevator beeped, and the doors opened like two arms releasing me from a momentary prison. I made a right and headed down the hallway until I got to her room.
I knocked twice and took a step back. Moments later, the door opened, and another woman stood on the other side. She wore a long white T-shirt that went down to the middle of her thighs. I couldn’t tell if she had on anything beneath her shirt, but it took discipline to keep my eyes leveled with hers. “Ezra?” she asked cautiously.
“Yeah, that’s me.”
She smiled. “Good. Come on in,” she said, stepping to the side, “Hannah is still taking her sweet-ass time getting ready. Go ahead and go straight down the hallway and t
o the right. You can have a seat in the front room.”
“All right, cool.”
As I walked past, I caught a glimpse of her body. Her ass found a way to show its thickness from beneath her T-shirt, and her breasts were tucked beneath the material. Wow, I thought to myself as I headed down the hallway. She closed the door behind me. “So, do you want anything to drink? I’ve got Corona and,” she paused, “more Corona.”
I laughed. “Do you have a Corona?”
“No, we are all out, you fucking wiseass.”
I sat down on the couch and looked around the room. The carpet had vacuum lines with a fresh carpet scent hanging in the air like mist. The glass table was polished to a bright shine, and on top of it, magazines were spread out like playing cards on a table. A candle flickered on top of the television as her roommate walked into the front room with two beer bottles in her hand. She extended one to me as the condensation dripped onto the floor. “So, Ezra,” she said as I took the bottle from her hand, “my name is Carrie. I am Hannah’s roommate, and I’ve heard so much about you that I feel like I already know you.”
She sat down on the arm of the couch as her T-shirt rolled up to her waist. I saw the jean shorts from the corner of my eyes, trying hard not to look directly at her legs. “Yeah,” I said, “I’ve heard a lot about you as well.”
“Good things, I hope?”
“Yeah, good things.” I popped the top off the beer bottle and placed it on the table. “I hear you are the one that helped Hannah get her role in this movie.”
She wrapped her full lips around the bottle and tilted it into her mouth. I stole glances at her while she wasn’t paying attention. “Yeah,” she said, lowering her drink, “I’d just say it was a gentle nudge. I was tired of her wasting her talent doing a bunch of shit that was going nowhere, so I introduced her to my photographer–”