Like a Love Song

by Gabriela Martins

  That gets him to laugh.

  A caught-off-guard laugh that makes him let go of his armrests for a moment.

  It’s hard to compare anything to the pride I feel when I steal one of these laughs from him. Maybe only performing can top it. It makes me feel like I can do anything.

  “You choose the first film,” he says.

  I suck my bottom lip, viewing the screen, then glance back at him. “So I saw before that they had a cool action movie in the catalogue….”

  “If we’re watching a mindless action film first, then our second film has to be an award-winning drama,” he announces.

  He isn’t holding on to anything anymore. He seems more concerned with being forced to watch car chases for the next hour and a half.

  I offer my hand. “Deal.”

  * * *

  Early November in Faro, Portugal, isn’t as cold as the rest of Europe, but it’s still colder than I was expecting. There’s no mob of photographers to receive us at the airport, so we make a stop at a nearby shop to buy coats.

  “What do you think of this one?” I offer up a heavy brown coat in his general direction and he makes a face. “What? It’s cute! You have to at least try it on.”

  William takes the coat and puts it over his shoulders without even bothering to put his arms in the sleeves. Then he walks closer to one of the wall-length mirrors, and poses. “Yep. I look like a grandfather, like I thought I would.”

  I take the coat back from him, frowning. “It’s classy!”

  He wrinkles his nose and puts it back on the hanger.

  I appear by his side and drop another coat on his shoulders. This one is cream-colored, and goes down to his knees. It’s the height of European fashion, and he looks so handsome in it. When I take a step back and say “Twirl!” he turns around with an unexplainable duck face, and I break down laughing. “Stop! It’s a nice coat!”

  He smiles, taking it off again. “I do believe it’s nice on a number of people who aren’t me.”

  “You’re too difficult,” I say, moving on to the more feminine coats. I have enough of essentially everything plaid, so I keep searching until I find a stunning solid pearl-colored coat that I like. I don’t have to try it on. I hand it to the shop assistant and tell her I won’t need a bag.

  William doesn’t seem to have even noticed me buying my coat.

  He’s still going through the racks, a frown of concentration on his face. He looks so vulnerable and open like this…focused under the bright shopping lights, like he’s doing something utterly complicated.

  “Um…” I pause, stopping next to a rack of black coats. I find the simplest one. It’s thick and goes down probably until a little above his knees, with big black buttons and two front pockets. It’s practical and beautiful. I examine the coat further as I start toward him. “William…”

  He turns around and suddenly we’re only inches away from each other.

  I hold the coat closer to my body, eyebrows raised and a question on my lips.

  His pale face turns pink and his Adam’s apple bobs.

  “I—should I try this one?” he asks, voice rough. He clears his throat, and when he takes the coat from me, our fingers brush.

  My chest feels tight. Something warm settles in my stomach.

  I nod, letting go of the coat and taking two steps back.

  William takes a deep breath and inspects the coat at eye level. There’s a small smile on his lips as he tries it on, properly this time. He’s so handsome. The expression on his face is something else. As he moves closer to the mirror, he keeps looking back at me and grinning, like he doesn’t believe he’s found the one.

  The one coat that his picky self is okay with, I mean.

  “I love it”—he spreads his arms—“it’s nice!”

  I hang back, watching him in front of the mirror.

  There’s an instinct in me, a need to turn around and search for photographers or fans. Is he putting on a show for an audience? But there’s only four or so people in the shop right now, and not even the shop assistant seems really that interested in us.

  He’s just happy. Not for anyone’s sake but his own.

  “Hi.” He turns toward the shop assistant. “How much is this, please?”

  Before she can answer, I’m shuffling to find my card in my purse.

  “I’m paying! It’s my treat! I’ll pay for both!”

  William tilts his head to the side. “You already picked a coat?”

  I nod, and then start toward the cashier.

  William elbows me lightly. “I’m paying for dinner, then.”

  I like the promise of dinner.

  As we leave the airport shop, I spot a couple of fans snapping a picture or two, but it’s not intrusive, and we don’t comment on it. Soon we’re headed to the hotel. In the car, I tell him Padma is already waiting for us in the lobby, and he gives me a curious look.

  “So I’m meeting your friends in a few minutes?”

  I frown back at him, then gesture at his face. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that you’re shy about it. Are you going to blush when you meet them?” I tease, and when he rolls his eyes and laughs, I bump my shoulder to his. “Are you? Are you?”

  “You’re impossible, Natalie.”

  But he says it with a smile that’s just for me.

  We’re stuck in traffic for a little while, and the cabdriver comments that it’s because of the festival. Too many tourists during the summer, he tells me. The beaches attract too many vacationers.

  Does he think we don’t qualify as tourists because I speak some Portuguese?

  “What did he say?” William asks, a little quieter.

  “Nothing much. Said that you smell and he’d like you out of his car.”

  With the earnest expression he’s had all day, he pokes me. Right in the middle. Like I poked him on the airplane. Ticklish, I slap his hand away, and he says, “I’m so done with you today. You’re too happy, and I’ve come to realize that’s annoying.”

  And I realize he’s right. I am happy. When we’re quiet for the rest of the ride to the hotel, it feels good.

  I risk resting my head on his shoulder like we did at the movies. He puts an arm around my shoulders and wordlessly runs his fingers through my hair, looking out at the old city as we drive by. I smile the whole time.

  The hotel is wonderful, but the best thing about it is entering the lobby and spotting one of my best friends, wearing a neon-pink top, neon-green oversize jacket that looks like it’s made of plastic, and black leather pants. She’s absolutely gorgeous.

  “Padma!”

  She spreads her arms and hugs me so tight she might break my bones. She lifts me off my feet as William enters carrying our two bags. When we separate, I still have an arm around her. “You look so beautiful, oh my God. You look incredible.”

  “I look like the headliner I am, Natalie. That’s what I look like.” Then she grabs my shoulders and in a goofy voice says, “I look like money!”

  William laughs a little, too. “How long has it been since you guys last saw each other?”

  We pull back and look at each other. “Two weeks?” I ask.

  “Two weeks,” she confirms. He chuckles, and she lets me go, pushing me aside not-so-gently. “Bring it in, Ainsley!” She spreads her arms again.

  He blinks, apparently surprised.

  “Don’t tell me you’re too British for hugs!” Padma teases.

  That makes William smile, and as he goes closer, he announces, “I find that particularly stereotypical and offensive.”

  She takes him into her arms, and it’s weird but in a good way. When they separate, she asks, smirking, “Do you want to talk to the Pakistani girl about what’s stereotypical and offensive?”

  A little embarrassed and a
little amazed, he shakes his head. “Better not, I’m afraid.”

  “This is Padma, DJ Lotus, one of the coolest people you’ll ever meet,” I tell him.

  William nods at that. “So I see.”

  “And this”—I turn to Padma, pointing at William—“is…William. William Ainsley, as you know. Great actor. My PR boyfriend for the moment. My friend.”

  “That’s a weird introduction,” Padma murmurs, snorting.

  William turns to me. “Not one of the coolest people she’ll ever meet?”

  I make a face. “Eh.”

  Without warning, he puts his arm around my shoulders again. I swallow the little noise that comes up to my throat. My eyes widened, I mouth, What?! to Padma as I settle into the pseudo-hug.

  I’m not complaining.

  I can see something out of the corner of my eye. I bring my hand up as though running my fingers through my hair, but instead I take a look at the woman in her early twenties by the stairs with a phone pointed toward us.

  It makes me suddenly uncomfortable. Has William noticed it? Is that why he’s acting so nice to Padma? To me? I mean, he is nice. Generally. But has he seen her, too? Is he smiling for the sake of the camera?

  Padma takes a deep breath.

  “Listen, friends, go have dinner and get settled and all of that. The festival’s starting soon. But I do have to warn you about one thing. And I’m sorry about it.” Her face tells me she’s not. “You called at the last possible minute, and I’d already arranged for Brenda’s sister to come with her husband and all…”

  “Are we sleeping on your floor?” I eye her.

  “Nothing like that, you silly girl.” Padma shakes her head. “It’s just that there was only one suite left. Soyouhavetoshare,” she adds quickly, before either of us can react.

  Suddenly I’m very self-conscious of how William’s holding me.

  His touch burns. Or perhaps it’s my face burning.

  I think William feels it, too, because he makes it his mission to pick up the bags. Now.

  “I’ll sleep on the floor,” he announces, and makes a move toward the elevator. “Cool? So let’s go? See you soon, Padma?”

  Every single thing he says sounds like a question.

  I nod at William, and then I swing toward Padma and mouth, I will kill you.

  She gives me her Miss Pakistan wave.

  On our way up, on the elevator, I call Mom. She answers on the first ring, and I chuckle. “Were you waiting for my call?”

  “Like you used to wait for more Cordel Encantado episodes when you were little, yes. Anxiously,” she clarifies, and I hear her laugh on the other side. “Are you at the hotel?”

  “Yes…” I trail off. William gestures for me to keep talking, and grabs the bag from my hands as soon as the doors slide open. I bite back a smile watching him lead the way, and step out of the elevator, too. “Um, everything okay. Everything good.”

  “How’s your boyfriend?” she asks.

  My cheeks heat up, and I stare at him, wide-eyed, even though I don’t think he heard it. He’s scrambling for the key card, but I still turn around, making a shelf with my hand so he can’t hear it, and whisper an offended “Mamis. Don’t!”

  She properly laughs at that. “All right, I was waiting for your call before starting this new project, but I have to go to the drawing board to try to hack what the client wants. Have fun at the festival!”

  My heart warms as much as my face hearing her laugh. We say our goodbyes with William a few feet ahead, and he enters the room first.

  He stands in the entryway and checks the room number against the key. “I can’t believe this is a hotel room. No, it isn’t, is it?” He turns to me. “It’s a hotel apartment. It’s too big. Like, I cannot comprehend how big this is.” He lets go of the bags and spreads his arms.

  I laugh, taking off my new coat. “It’s not that big of a deal, but I’m glad you like it.”

  His eyes sweep over me, but then he looks away and drops on the couch like he belongs there. “I can sleep in the living room. You take the bedroom, obviously. I wouldn’t make you sleep out here.”

  The couch is beautiful, with a carved wooden back and plump cushions, but it’s still a love seat. There’s no way his lanky body will fit.

  “Let’s get ready to go, and we’ll decide who sleeps where later, all right?”

  William nods. “I—” Then he stops himself.

  I narrow my eyes. “You…?”

  “You know what?” He raises his eyebrows. “It’s nothing. It’s whatever.”

  I shake my head; he doesn’t get out of this that easy. I sit on the couch next to him. “Mom always says this thing. Começou termina. If you start saying something, you have to finish. It’s impolite otherwise.”

  He chuckles. “It’s just—thank you. For taking me here. It’ll be good to focus on something else that isn’t my family’s financial issues or Cedrick talking about how great of an opportunity it’d be to sign this ridiculously long contract. I still don’t know what to do about that.”

  I think back on Bobbi’s offer for my next album.

  “Yeah. Don’t thank me yet. You haven’t seen me out on the town.” I raise an eyebrow at him and do a little shimmy. “Party animal over here.”

  He makes a pretend-serious face, sizing me up. “I don’t quite believe you.”

  “Can I say something unrelated?” I ask, and then bulldoze on. “I do not hate your socks. I don’t. But I hope you’re not wearing them to the beach tonight. Socks and sand don’t go together.”

  William properly laughs at that, then gives me a funny look.

  “Maybe I have some interesting socks planned for the festival. Maybe they’re neon. Maybe they light up.” He studies my reaction, then rolls his eyes. “You’re too easy! No, of course I’m not wearing socks to the beach. I actually didn’t mind the outfit for the film premiere, either. It was the way Ashley talked to me. Like I needed to be molded into something I’m not.”

  I nod slowly.

  Before I know it, I’m telling him, “That day at the People’s Choice Awards, before everything, I presented this award. Best TV Drama. And this girl…she’s one of the lead actors, right? And she linked her arm with mine, or I linked my arm with hers. The whole time we were hugging. I don’t even know her name.”

  William doesn’t say anything, but his eyes soften as if he gets it. And I think he does.

  I should say something to fill in the serious silence, otherwise he may blurt out something silly like how we all don’t need fame, etc. So I say, “But anyway, at the premiere…You looked good.”

  William cocks an eyebrow. “Oh. Is that a compliment?”

  I roll my eyes, then look him up and down. “Grow up. I’m stating a fact. An obvious fact.” That seems to shock him out of jokes, but I’m not done yet. “Just like it’s obvious that I looked incredible. And you should have told me so.”

  “You’re gorgeous, Natalie.”

  Scanning his face for any sign of sarcasm, my face warms when I see the truth in his deep green eyes.

  I bite my cheek, even though Brenda has warned me against it. “That’s not what I meant. I wasn’t fishing for compliments.”

  William smiles. A pure, simple smile. “I know. I should have told you then, but I’m telling you now, you looked incredible that night. You are incredible.”

  For a second, my heart stutters in my chest. And our giant suite? Suddenly feels like extremely close quarters.

  It’s going to be an interesting weekend.

  William lets me take a shower first, and when I leave the bathroom, I’m already wearing my festival outfit: a white button-down shirt with a black lacy bralette underneath and skinny jeans. My hair is still mostly straight, but after the humidity of the shower, my curly baby hairs make an appeara
nce.

  I try not to spend too long in front of the bathroom mirror, working on winged eyeliner and a nude lipstick. I apply mascara and a bit of concealer and powder before all that, going for a more natural beach look.

  My mascara is waterproof, though. These lashes are staying long, curled, and dark, no matter what.

  But I’m feeling pretty as I step out of the enormous bathroom. I don’t see William in the living room or the bedroom, and I’m starting to worry he might’ve ditched me when I find him on the balcony of the suite, moving plates and cutlery from a little table back to our room.

  “What are you doing?” I raise my eyebrows.

  William blinks a few times, like I’ve caught him doing something nasty. He stands up straight, puts down the cutlery on the balcony table, and stretches the back of his head. “I…was thinking maybe we could have dinner outside. But it’s kind of cold, and that was a bad idea, so I’m moving it back inside.”

  My face burns, and I bite the insides of my cheeks.

  “That’s…” Cute. “Did you order room service for us?”

  He nods, gathering up the cutlery again. I know I’m probably supposed to help him set the table, but I’m transfixed by the sight of him intently moving everything. “Yeah, of course. I did say dinner was on me. Plus I figured you wouldn’t want to have dinner at a restaurant. Too many people, right?”

  Too many people…and too many possibilities for our pictures to be snapped and posted online. Then again, it would be such great free publicity—us sharing a romantic dinner in a five-star hotel facing the ria in Faro before our friend’s show.

  His plan sounds so much better.

  I smile, nodding slowly. “Do you need help, or—?”

  “I got it, don’t worry,” he replies, and closes the balcony behind him, finally turning to me. He looks me up and down, then seems to think that’s inappropriate and shakes his head. I bite back another smile, and he says, “I wasn’t sure what you’d like, but I asked for the specialty of the house, if that’s okay?”