Animate Me (21 page)

“Wow,” sighs London. Her intonation is full of admiration, so I figure that’s a good thing.

“Yes,” Bradley agrees, nodding. “Yes.”

I squint, and so London hands me a large hand mirror.

Wow, I look really different
. “Hey, that looks good,” I say, surprised.

“He looks hot,” London says to Bradley.

“Sizzling,” the master insists. “Now, Nathan…I’m tempted to not give you those glasses back because they must not be worn…ever again.”

“Don’t worry, I have contacts and new glasses Brooke picked out from L.A. Eyeworks.”

Bradley smiles; I guess he approves. I leave my tips and thank them. Heading out, I’m so stunned from the whole experience that I almost leave with my robe on. Luckily I catch myself before I make it to the front desk.

The glamazon looks flustered as she runs my credit card. She keeps staring at me. It makes me uncomfortable, but there’s nothing I can do about it now, the hair I always hid under is gone.

Once home, I end up taking many opportunities that day to stare at myself too. I put in my contacts so I can continue to break them in, and consequently every time I look in the bathroom mirror, I get a clear look of my new haircut. I’m less surprised with each glance, until by the end of the day, I think I like it.

• • •

“Ah, Mom,” I sigh as she fusses over me.

She puts her hands on her hips and shakes her head. “All the times I’ve tried to get you to cut your hair, and you refused.” But then she smiles. “It was that lovely girl…Brooke, wasn’t it? You did it for her, didn’t you?”

I nod, my face turning red. “I just hope she likes it.”

“Oh, she’ll like it,” Mom responds with no hesitation.

“She’ll see it tonight. Remember, he’s taking her to the Emmys,” Curtis explains.

“Are you wearing your tux?” Dad asks.

“Yeah, I’m so glad I have that tux, Dad.” I watch him grin with satisfaction and nod his head.

“Outstanding! It looks like our calculated investment is showing the potential to pay off far beyond our original projections,” he says rubbing his hands together happily. “And one can never underestimate the potential impact of an impressive personal presentation with a desired mate.”

“Yeah, you’re going to look so hot she’s going to be all over you, dude,” Curtis confirms encouragingly.

I can’t help but blush and grin at their support. I know that they genuinely want me to be happy.

“Well, you must call when you get home and let us know how it goes,” Mom insists.

“If it goes well, calling you is the last thing he’ll be doing,” Curtis snickers.

I can’t get my hopes up like that, but the thing I know for sure is that I’ll get to see Brooke in that dress again and be her date. Anything beyond that is icing on the cake.

Back home, I spend a couple of hours roughing out pages for the next B-Girl issue. I’m glad to have my time occupied until it’s finally time to get ready to go. Once I’ve showered, fixed my hair with that stuff like Bradley showed me, and gotten dressed, it all hits me.

I’m taking Brooke to the Emmys.

As I study myself in the mirror I realize, for perhaps the first time in my life, that I’m not bad looking at all. Since these plans were made, I’ve desperately wanted to believe that I could look worthy of being with her tonight. And with my final glance, I actually believe that I do.

My stomach flip flops the whole way to the florist, because it means I’m that much closer to being with her again. As I park I wonder if she’s nervous too. Once out of the car, I slide the tux jacket off the hanger from where it’s hung in the back seat, and pull it on. I wish I could have sorted out my bow tie, but I’m sure Brooke will do a better job with it than I could. I roll my shoulders back and clear my throat before I ring the doorbell.

She buzzes the gate, but I’m all the way down the stairs before she pulls open the door. I stop in my tracks. Her hair is swept up and she’s wearing the dark red dress, the fabric fluttering around her legs in the breeze.

She’s a vision, and tonight she’s mine.

“Nathan!” she gasps. “You’ve cut your hair.”

I nod, noticing that her cheeks are flushed and her expression’s bright. Her eyes move over me, from my hair, to my eyes—now unhindered by glasses—to the tux. “Oh my God, you look
so
handsome,” she says slowly, each word pressing into me. I can tell she means it. “Wow,” she whispers.

I’m speechless and while I’m searching for the right response, I manage to hold out the bunch of flowers.

“For me?” she says, stepping forward. “That’s so sweet.”

I watch her take them and look down into the swirl of dark and light pinks. “Peonies,” she sighs. “How did you know these were my favorite flowers?”

“I did my research,” I answer grinning.

She smiles, tipping her head as she studies me. I can tell she’s impressed.

“Brooke…” I start.

“Yes?”

“You’re so beautiful…I mean, you look so beautiful tonight…well, I mean both—you are beautiful
and
you look so beautiful tonight…but then you
always
look beautiful, not just tonight…” I ramble, horrified. I’ve apparently lost all verbal ability, thereby making a complete idiot of myself.

She steps closer and touches her fingers to my lips, stilling me.

“Thank you.” She pulls her fingers from my lips, yet still lingers close to me. It almost feels like she’s going to kiss me, but then she turns towards the foyer.

“Here, come on in.”

She turns and heads into the kitchen and I follow, noting that she’s barefoot. She pulls out a vase, fills it, then deftly unwraps the flowers and quickly arranges them before pulling back to admire the results.

“No one has ever brought me peonies,” she says wistfully. “Until you.”

I smile, excited about how well things are going, but just then the doorbell rings.

“Can you get that? It’s the driver; tell him I need a couple minutes.”

The driver assures me it’s no problem, and I go back inside to find Brooke bent over the couch struggling with her shoes.

“Ugh, I can’t seem to get the hook thingy to fit in the little hole!”

“Can I help?”

“Please. These are the only shoes I have that will look right with this dress.”

I kneel down in front of her and remove the high-heeled sandal and examine the strap. “Damn, those are tiny holes. Here let me give it a try.” I slip her beautiful foot back into the sandal and thread the delicate strap into the buckle, and then carefully press the prong into the hole. It takes some force, but it finally pops through. When I finish I wrap my hand around her ankle and softly stroke her skin.

“How’s that?”

She leans forward on the couch and looks down. I can’t help put peek at her lush cleavage. I swallow hard and struggle to focus.

She smiles. “Perfect. Can you do the other one too?”

I repeat the action, but when I’m done I let my hand trail higher up her calf and back down marveling at her beautiful legs. When I look up at her she’s biting her lip as she watches me. I lift up on my knees so my face is level with hers and our eyes meet. Can she feel how much I want to pull her into my arms and kiss her? But before I can, I feel her hand sweep along the side of my face.

“Thank you.” She pauses as if she wants to say something else, but then sighs. “We better get going or we’ll be late.”

I nod, and slowly stand up and then take her hand, helping her off the couch. Right before we get to the door she stops me, “Hey wait a sec, I need to do your tie.”

“Oh yeah,” I stammer, embarrassed. “I’m no good at these things.”

“Well, I am,” she says softly as the steps up close to me and begins maneuvering the two strips of fabric.

I look down at her. She’s so focused on what she is doing that it gives me the opportunity to stare. Her skin is luminous and her shiny lips slowly part as her hands flutter with the bow tie just under my chin. I’m so drawn to her that I don’t know how I’m going to get through a whole evening without touching her continuously.

When we arrive, Brooke’s movie star beauty is apparent to everyone. As we step out of the limo one of the security managers tries to usher us into the red carpet line. We notice our colleagues heading directly into the theater and we end up having to convince them that we aren’t actors and aren’t supposed to walk the red carpet.

Right before we step inside we are led to an area where we pose for press pictures. I gently slide my hand around the back of Brooke’s waist until I wrap my fingers along her side and pull her closer. I feel incredibly proud to be here with her. My smile is genuine as the flash captures us right as she looks up at me and smiles.

The energy in the air’s exciting but once we’re seated and the ceremony starts it gets dull pretty quickly. I don’t watch much TV so the nominees and shows don’t mean much to me. I only spark up when it’s announced that the animation category is coming after the commercial break.

“Are you nervous? I know we’re favored to win,” I say, searching her face for anxiety. If I were her I’d be a wreck.

“Yeah,” she admits, twisting her hands.

“You’ll do great, you’re a natural. I reach over and squeeze her hand and she smiles warmly.

“I’m glad you’re the one here with me, Nathan.”

My heart’s pounding when our category finally comes up, and two actors start announcing the nominees. When they announce
Danny Deletes
as the winner, Brooke looks over at me beaming and as we rise out of our seats, I give her a big hug. I don’t sit back down until I know she is safely down the aisle and up the stairs to the stage.

She looks amazingly composed considering that I felt her trembling when I hugged her.
Damn, she’s beautiful.
I’m so mesmerized watching her that I don’t clearly hear her speech at first, something about accepting for the artist that created the show. But right before she ends, it seems like she’s searching for me in the audience. Her words cut right through me.

“This is for the animation artists who quietly put their hearts and souls into their work to create magic for us all. I’m honored to be a part of their world.”

I take a sharp breath and fall back against my seat. I can’t believe the way she makes me feel. Every time I think it isn’t possible that she could do or say anything to make me love her more, she proves me wrong.

She gives me a shy smile as she settles back into her seat. I lean in closer to her.

“Congratulations, Brooke. You were amazing up there.”

“Thanks. I think your Starbucks cup drawing brought me good luck.”

I smile warmly at her and whisper, “And just for the record,
I’m
honored to be part of your world.”

Luckily the hair guy, Bradley, had warned me how boring award ceremonies can get, so I came prepared. Well into the second hour, I pull out my mini-sketch pad and pencil and start drawing little caricatures for Brooke of the different people that we see on stage. She almost laughs out loud at the one of Ellen DeGeneres dancing with one of the guys from Glee.

When the ceremony torture is over we head over to the Governor’s Ball for what appears to be formal dinner torture. Even though Arnold’s an ass for abandoning Brooke, I’m starting to see why he didn’t mind missing this endless event and all the industry small talk required. Everyone is standing around having cocktails, so I leave Brooke with some people from Disney Animation to go get us drinks at the bar.

When I finally get back there’s some good looking guy standing too close to Brooke and handing her his card. I grip my drink so hard I’m lucky the glass doesn’t shatter. As I step up he looks at me and takes his cue.

“Okay Brooke, call me next week and we’ll have lunch.”

I wish I were one of those guys who could just haul off and punch him, instead I watch him walk away.

“Who’s that?” I ask carefully.

“Richard’s from Disney. He says he wants to meet with me about a potential joint project between the studios for charity.” She glances at me, watching to see my reaction. I can tell she isn’t completely convinced of his motives either.

“Yeah, I bet he wants to
meet
with you. Are you going to go?” I hand her the drink.

“I don’t know.”

I feel a wave of nausea wash over me. It’s one thing to know she’s with Arnold, but if she starts seeing another man too, I know I won’t be able to handle it. But before anything can get even more tense and awkward, Gene from Nickelodeon joins us and the industry banter starts up again. I just want to get the hell out of here.

When it is time to be seated Brooke looks at me and seems to sense that I’m at the end of my rope.

“Hey, are you all right?”

I nod, not wanting to reveal the jealous beast that is burning inside of me.

She takes my hand. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

“Are you sure? What about the people you should be talking to?”

“I don’t care about that. I’ve done my bit. Let’s go get a burger.” She grins and my heart soars. I whip out my cell phone and call our driver.

Once in the limo we crack open the chilled champagne and clink glasses before settling back into our seats. Due to traffic and construction it’s a slow drive back, so by the time we get to In-N-Out we’re already buzzed.

There’s nothing like the vision of Brooke in her evening gown, perched in a plastic seat, waiting for me to bring her a Double-Double, animal style. The Emmy sits grandly on the Formica-topped table. I can only imagine what the other diners think of us, but I don’t care.

I undo my tie and the top few buttons of my dress shirt so I can breath. We laugh as we eat, her doing goofy impressions of the speeches while I draw the corresponding caricatures in my little sketchpad. More than once she takes a napkin and wipes the ketchup off my chin. This is how I like my Brooke. This is how we should always be.

We’re even more boisterous in the limo ride back to her house. We finish off the champagne and put our feet up so we are practically lying down. I open up the skylight so we can look at the stars. Something about the vastness of the night sky makes me feel like anything is possible.