Down 'N' Derby (14 page)

             
I chastised him through the phone yelling ‘Duh’ at it before typing my reply.  I had to play with him just a tad.

             
Who?

             
His response came quickly and it made me snort.  He fell for it.

             
Um…Maddox from last night with Nixon.

             
Though I thought of tons of ways to string this hoax along, I relented.

             
Duh. Just kidding.  Of course, name the place and time.

             
It took a while for him to answer and my heart sank little by little with every ticking second. After ten minutes I cussed at myself for playing around.

             
Sorry?  It was a joke.

             
Did I make you sweat? 

             
Did he make me sweat?  I wouldn’t really call the heat he made me feel the kind that made you sweat. 

             
Understatement.  How about Stanley’s Pizza on Pico @6.

             
K, see you then.

             
I took the day to get a pedicure and a manicure.  Last time I forgot to get a pedicure was the day the photographer wanted a shot of me lying on my belly with my feet in the air.  Needless to say, there was some major airbrushing done because when the pictures came out, my feet were near perfect. 

             
I read the rest of my latest book conquest as the scalding water worked its magic on my feet.  After two hours and apple red toenails and fingernails, I made my way to my agent’s office to see if I had a paycheck or not.  I hoped she wasn’t there.  I wasn’t really ready to have an ‘I’m not renewing my contract’ interrogation just yet.  I slipped past the front door of the office and pointed my moving feet directly for the Human Resources office.   The crotchety Mrs. Stephens stiffly shoved an envelope at me then shooed me away while she dogged someone out over the phone.  I tore it open and found that I was paid for both days of the car show even though I only worked one.  I shrugged and took it.  It was their choice to pay me or not. 

             
I walked down to the smoothie joint and grabbed a Pineapple Junkie.  I got a call from my dad and left the shop to talk while I strolled home.  When I was a kid, my mom and I were close.  After I started dating Simon she would pull me aside once in a while and tell me to be careful or be safe.  She looked at him like he was a criminal—and he was, I just didn’t know it yet.  After everything came out she tried to reach out to me but I was a jackass.  I doubted she looked for an admittance of how right she was but in my mind, she represented the voice that I was too stupid to listen to.  And when she and I fell apart, my dad picked up the pieces.  And it’s been that way ever since.  He calls, asks me the pertinent questions, gives me her love secondhand and then hangs up. 

             
I got home and though there were three more hours until our date, I had to get in my closet and pick out what I would wear.  Yes, I was that girl.  But I never apologized.

             
I ended up picking out a pair of tight low waist jeans with holes in the knees.  I grabbed a thin gray vintage Rolling Stones t shirt that once belonged to Renee’s brother Ellis.  But I stole it while he wasn’t looking.  I laid it out on my bed and picked out underwear, bra, shoes, and even the purse I would bring.  I wouldn’t have this luxury when I went to college so I took the opportunity while I had it. 

             
I took a long hot bath with tons of strawberry scented bubbles and turned on Patsy Cline on my iPod.  Listening to oldies was part of the job at first since they were played at all the vintage car shows.  And then they started to not suck so hard.  And now I love any oldies song—especially Patsy Cline. 

             
And I would enjoy what was left of my job.  But it always felt like a bridge.  Planks and ropes which connected my former life full of crushed plans and unfulfilled dreams to the one I wanted.  I’d wanted to be a teacher since my first day of school and while most kids’ dreams changed over time, mine never had.  A thought hit me.  I’d never brought a guy to one of my shoots but I wondered if Maddox would want to go.  It was worth a shot.  I felt this need to have him see what I did—almost a need for him to not approve but be proud of me. 

             
I shook my head and sat up in the bathtub. 
Where in the hell did that come from?

             
I heard Patsy singing about walking at midnight and looked at the heart shaped clock on my bathroom wall.  I screamed a little, realized that I’d been in the tub for nearly two hours and now only had an hour to get ready.  I hated getting ready in a frenzy.  It made my stomach jumpy.

             
I shimmied into my red lace boy shorts and matching bra.  The jeans went on next and then the t shirt. I twirled in front of my full length mirror to check everything. My red bra could be seen in the back because the shirt was so thin but I didn’t have time to overthink it.  Hopefully he wouldn’t be looking at my back.  I blow dried out my hair as fast as I could and brushed it up into a cute ponytail with my side parted bangs pinned back. My agent wanted me to dye my hair blonde when she first met me but my first shoot’s photographer loved that I was a brunette.  I was told in no nice terms to never dye my hair.  I slammed my make-up bag into the sink and turned it over, spilling the contents out so I could better access them.  I went for the simple mascara, black eyeliner and red lipstick.  It was classic and I could draw that thick black line on my eyelid as easy as signing my own name.  I finished getting ready and put on my watch and some little heart earrings in.  Shoes on and I was ready to go. 

             
I struck a pose in the mirror and then rolled my eyes at myself.  Who was I kidding?  I could make the guys follow me, but I wanted to make this one stay.

             
I drove through traffic to Pico and after twenty or so minutes found a parking spot.  Driving anywhere in Los Angeles County was the pits and Venice was no exception.  I flung open the door to Stanley’s and let the smells of pepperoni and the sounds of Jerry Lee Lewis envelop me.  Some kids brushed past me meeting another group in the back.  And that’s when I saw him in the back, arm thrown over the back of the bench like he was entertaining an invisible dame.  He tugged at the thighs of his jeans straightening some non-existent wrinkles and looking very uncomfortable.  I bypassed the hostess and weaved my way through the congregations of pizza eaters.  When he spotted me, he stood and I stopped in my tracks feeling like I should curtsy or pull out my handkerchief and blot my forehead—whatever mid century Southern belles did when they swooned.

             
I sat down on the opposite bench and he waited until I sat before sitting himself.  His manners were freakin’ impeccable.  I felt like a social pariah in comparison. 

             
The waitress brought our menus and he turned an odd shade of green even under the weird lighting in this place. 

             
“Are you ok?” I asked though it was clear he wasn’t.

             
He put down his menu and cleared his throat and motioned me to move closer to him with a wave of his hand. 

             
“I have to tell you something.” He whispered and the scent of his cinnamon breath had me wringing my hands together under the table.

             
“What?” 
Come on, give me something good.

             
“I hate pizza.  Since I was about six years old—hate it.”

             
“Why didn’t you tell me?”

             
“Well, you seemed pretty hellbent on it.  You wanted it yesterday and we intercepted you.  Then you said it again today and I just couldn’t tell you ‘no’.”

             
“How old are you?” I asked him.  I acted like it was part of the conversation but really it was my curiosity.

             
“I’m eighteen.” 

             
I sat back in my bench and gave him my best glare with arms folded across my chest. “Come on Mad, it’s been twelve years since you had it.  You’ve got to try it again.  If you don’t like it, we’ll leave and never eat pizza again.” I cocked my eyebrow to him in challenge.

             
He pursed his lips together trying to hide a smile and when he did a dimple formed in his chin.  He must’ve known it was there and was the object of my admiration because he quickly schooled his face in a way that made the dimple fade. 

             
“Ok, one bite.” He nodded his agreement.

             
“Should we shake on it?” I extended my hand but the waiter appeared and took my order for a large carnivore with extra cheese.  I could see Maddox shudder across the table.  He picked at his flimsy napkin and started in on his inquisition.

             
“Tell me about modeling.” It was a softly spoken command.

             
“Well, it started on Halloween of my Senior year of high school.  I was at a party and decided to go as a pin-up girl.  The party was at my mom’s friend’s house whose wife was a modeling agent.  She saw me and I signed a couple of months later after I got some things straight.  I moved here the summer after I graduated high school and I’ve been doing it ever since.  I really love it.  It’s not really work for me.”

             
He had his chin propped up on the palm of his hand and he was either extremely bored or fervently interested.  Which one, I had yet to tell. 

             
“You’re really good at it too.  I can tell you love it, Missy.” He called me by my stage name.  My eyebrow let him know I was onto him.  Unless he’d purposefully searched for me, there was no way he would’ve found out my name.  For once in my life, I was pleased as punch to have a new stalker.

             
“You looked me up?” I was both terrified and intrigued. 

             
The top tips of his ears reddened and he shrugged. “How could I not?  If you looked that damn beautiful on the beach not even trying—I couldn’t imagine how they could make you look any better.”

             
Now it was my turn to blush.  Though I’d been complimented by people in lines a mile long, never had I ever been spoken to so sincerely.  I could only thank him and absorb the flattery.

             
“Wow.  Thank you.  But I won’t be a model for long.  I start school in August, there won’t be much time for modeling after that.” He straightened his posture and leaned over the table again. 

             
“And what is Missy Hellcat gonna be when she grows up?” He laughed. 

             
“I hope to be a teacher—high school.  I’ve always wanted to be a teacher.  But I had one my Senior year who helped me through some stuff.  I’d like to do that too—maybe help a kid like me.”

             
He opened his perfectly shaped lips to say something but was shut up by his nemesis—the pizza.  His expression turned to one of pain and discomfort and it made me laugh.  What kind of guy in the history of guys has ever looked uncomfortable in front of a pizza?

             
“You promised—one bite.” He took a piece from the pan using only his fingertips like the damned thing had cooties.  I bit the insides of my lips trying not to laugh.

             
“Shit,” I heard him whisper to no one before he took a bite.  After three or four movements of his jaw, I could see the verdict before even asking.  He loved it.  I knew he would.  The pure joy that slowly rose over his face was priceless.

             
“This is not what I remember.”

Chapter 25

Mad

This was pizza? What in the Hell did they give me when I was a kid because it was shit and this was heaven.

              God’s honest truth—I would’ve eaten pickled horse teeth if she asked me to flashing one of those smiles.  And I couldn’t help but hang on every single word she said.  I felt like a toddler, experiencing everything for the first time. 

             
Her face lit up as she realized with me that in fact I was a liar.  I did like pizza.  I mentally gave six year old Maddox the finger—he gave it right back to me. 

             
“Oh, you love it.  I knew it!” She bounced on her side of the table before filling her own plate and digging in.  Before I knew it, I had downed five slices and had never been so sated in my life.  I also felt like an ass for pigging out like I did.