She takes in a breath and recites, “Always leave him wanting more.”
“And?”
She puts a hand up and shuts her eyes as if seeing images of the words themselves. “Under no circumstances do I talk to him after the scene has ended. Don’t even walk in the same direction.”
“Beautiful! That’s just great.” Though I hope she’ll keep her eyes open for the scene.
I give her an encouraging smile. She looks lovely. I’ve dressed her in a conservative pantsuit with an elegant silk blouse. Much classier than the looks sported by the bimbos du jour Tarek usually goes for, but we’re not looking for lust. We’re inspiring, invoking, conjuring love so Tarek will know what it is before I rip it away from his still-bleeding heart and laugh as he wallows in the molten liquid of despair and self-doubt. If I can also manage to bruise his butt, that would be a real bonus.
In prepping for this scene, I was more concerned about Lexy’s wardrobe than my own, but I’m looking forward to seeing Brandon. He was only too happy to meet for coffee with my friends—I use that term loosely—before our date and I decided Dog-boy (Thanks, Kya, I have to stop calling him that) deserved some effort to look nice on my part. So I’m wearing a form-fitting red dress that sets my figure off to advantage—especially considering it actually fits when it didn’t the last time I tried it on. It turns out misery is good for the waistline. Despite the intermittent bouts of ice cream, my tenure on the floor left me slimmer than I’d been, probably because I hadn’t been eating anything else but wine. So Dog-boy is getting lucky tonight. Well, not that kind of lucky. He hasn’t qualified yet for any level of spicy.
“Are you ready?” I take a deep breath and smile to cover my nerves.
“Ready.” Lexy gives me a thumbs-up and a big, goofy smile.
Oh my. “All right. Action!”
I hold the door to the coffee shop open and follow her inside.
Brandon and Tarek are both standing by the door, holding bouquets of flowers. They aren’t looking at each other. I wonder if they’ve spoken beyond an eyebrow raise in recognition that they’re both men waiting to give someone a bouquet. Tarek looks at me, but I turn to Brandon first.
“For me?” I raise my eyes to his soft brown ones.
He smiles and the corners of his eyes crinkle attractively. I take the bouquet from him which is larger and lusher than the one Tarek has brought for “Giselle.” I hold the blooms to my nose and then laugh when they tickle. Brandon looks pleased, and I pull him in for a hug.
“Thank you.” His cheeks are pink as I pull away.
“Ahem,” Tarek fake-coughs, drawing everyone’s attention. “I didn’t know you were bringing a date, Marissa.” Yes he did. We talked about it, and he even mentioned Dog-boy himself. The man is insufferable. He glances at Brandon with no hint of his trademark charm. Typical Tarek, wanting all of the female attention for himself.
“Well, we’re just stopping in for coffee before heading off to bigger and better things, right, Brandon?”
He nods and colors a bit more. Have I accidentally picked up a shy one? That just won’t do. I’m not thinking about myself and what I want in a man. For this scene, as I’m really beginning to think of it, I need a male character who can hold his own against Tarek’s neon-bright personality.
I link arms with Brandon, drawing him closer to the other couple and don’t look to see if he’s pinkening further.
“Tarek, this is my old friend, Giselle. Giselle, this is…Tarek.”
Tarek presents his small bouquet to Giselle/Lexy with a flourish. Whereas normal Lexy would probably giggle, Giselle/Lexy offers a small, world-weary smile and says, “Thank you,” in a low, sultry voice.
Good job, Lexy. So far I’m happy with the performance I’m paying her for.
“Giselle and Tarek, this is Brandon.”
“Pleased to meet you,” Giselle says.
Tarek raises an eyebrow at him. “And how do you know Marissa?”
“Um, I, um—” Brandon starts, but I interrupt.
“We met at work.” I don’t understand Tarek’s latent unfriendliness toward Brandon. Is he afraid he’ll be competition for Giselle? But that’s unlikely. I’ve never known Tarek to be intimidated by any man. How could he? He has such an inflated opinion of himself.
“Reporter?” Tarek presses Brandon.
“Ad placer,” Brandon supplies, and I smile.
“Are you expecting to die soon?” Tarek raises an eyebrow.
“What?” Brandon looks to me for help.
“Ha ha, Tarek.” I glance at Giselle and Brandon, not sure how much I should expect either of them to remember about my backstory. “In addition to lowest-level reporting, I also handle obituaries,” I explain. “My friend Blaire works in classifieds, and I was helping her out with Brandon here.”
“I lost my dog,” Brandon tells them in a slow, sad voice. It really is sweet how devoted to his canine companion Brandon is.
“Oh, yes. Dog-boy.” Tarek nods as if only now remembering. “Tell me. Was it an emotional support animal?” His expression is neutral, but I want to kick him. Why is he picking on Brandon? He doesn’t even know him.
“What?” Brandon stares at Tarek as if he will explain.
“Nothing.” Tarek shakes his head and smirks. Bully.
“Should we get our coffee?” I smile like I mean it and lead the way to the counter.
After jostling to put in our order and then debating over who’s paying—Tarek and Brandon both win—we seat ourselves at a table for four.
“So what do you do, Brandon? Besides look for your dog, that is. And have you found it?” Tarek takes the lid off his coffee and stirs in some sugar before focusing on Brandon with raised eyebrows.
“No, I haven’t found my dog yet. And I work in insurance. Data analysis.”
“Wow. That’s amazing.” Tarek snaps the lid back on his coffee.
“Really?” Brandon asks with a side-glance at me.
“No.” Tarek turns in his seat toward Giselle. His expression softens and my pulse accelerates. Lexy is stepping onstage. I lean forward.
“Giselle.” Her name resonates in Tarek’s low voice.
“Yes?” She angles her chin toward him and flutters her lashes.
“Tell me all about yourself.”
“Okay,” she says, when I think most people would have demurred at the broad request. “I grew up in California. Marissa and I were in second and third grade together—”
“What do you mean, ‘no’?” Brandon interrupts her to ask Tarek.
Tarek swivels around and blinks at Brandon. “Excuse me?”
Brandon leans across the table, gathering steam. “Yes. Excuse you. You were very rude just now.”
Tarek cocks his head at him. “It took you long enough to notice.” He turns back to Giselle and leans forward, propping his chin in his hand and offering Giselle a wicked smile. “So what was Marissa like in second grade?”
Lexy’s eyes slide to mine. Although we’d covered info on me for her character study, we’d focused more on her. Sharing stuff about me would take some improv.
“She was delightful!” Lexy/Giselle gushes. “She loved to read. She helped the teacher sweep the classroom, right?”