Chapter 11 Take you up
I keep all my questions music-focused. I don’t ask about Bonny’s death, rehab, or his personal life. It wouldn’t match the vibe of the interview, and I suspect he wouldn’t answer anyway.
Honestly, I’m surprised Steve didn’t vet me like usual for celebrity interviews. Usually, there’s a strict line about questions.
But I get the distinct sense Natte doesn’t follow rules. Any filtering, he does himself.
I finish scribbling his last answer, close my notebook, and put it back in my bag.
“Thank you,” I say.
“It’s been good to see you, Shia.”
“You too.”
I feel a lump in my throat. Half an hour ago I wanted to run. Now, I don’t want to leave.
Do I shake his hand? Hug him?
“Did you bring a coat?” he asks.
“It’s in my bag.” I turn to him. He looks down at me with those clear blue eyes. “Thanks again for the interview. Really.”
“You don’t need to thank me; I’d do an interview for you anytime.”
“I might take you up on that,” I laugh.
“Do it,” he says. Not a hint of humor.
I suddenly feel unsteady. I sling my bag onto my shoulder, holding it for support. “Thanks again for your time,” I smile and start walking toward the door, legs heavy.
“So you’re heading back to work now?” Natte asks, following.
“Yes.”
“Need a ride? I can have Steve drive you.”
I feel a twinge of disappointment. I thought he might drive me himself. But a star like Natte probably needs security, even for a short trip.
“It’s okay, thanks. I’ll walk; it’s not far.”
“You’re sure?”
“I’m
sure.”
He reaches for the door, stops. “Do you have plans tonight? I was wondering if you’d have dinner with me.”
My heart stops. Literally stops.
I’m supposed to go out with my mystery man tonight. My lovely sexy man. Who I can’t cancel on.
Can I?
If I say no to Natte, I might never get the chance to see him again.
Yes. No. No. Yes.
I answer before realizing it.
“No, I don’t have plans. I’m free. Totally free.”
He smiles widely. “Great. Then we can catch up properly without the interview hanging over us.” His eyes sparkle mischievously.
Holy crap. Dinner with Natte.
My heart somersaults in my chest.
It’s not a date. Not a date. Not a date.
“Yes.” My voice squeaks a little. I clear my throat. “Sounds good.”
He smiles again, and it reaches his eyes. “Eight o’clock okay?”
Now would be perfect. Yesterday, whenever — I’m easy.
“Eight is perfect.”
“Write your address down, I’ll come pick you up.”
I pull out my notebook, quickly jot it down, tear the page, and hand it to him.
Our fingers touch, and my skin hums. My face heats up.
Natte looks at the paper, folds it, and puts it in his back pocket.
He opens the door for me, stepping aside.
We walk to the front door in silence. Steve and Dave are nowhere in sight.
When we reach the door, we stop.
I feel sad saying goodbye. Silly, since I’ll see him tonight.
I’m seeing Natte tonight.
A thrill shoots through me.
He lifts his hand, tucking my hair behind my ear. I almost swoon, legs trembling, stomach fluttering.
Then he kisses my cheek.
The touch of his lips, his warm breath, stops every moving part of me, almost paralyzing me. His manly scent is intoxicating, like my mystery man.
He steps back, smiling warmly. “See you tonight.”
“Yes, tonight. Eight.” I sound like an idiot.
I stumble through the door, legs weak. I grip my bag like it’s life support.
“Bye, Natte Johnson,” I say, lingering.
“Bye, Shia Golden.”
I force myself to turn and walk down the hall.
At the end of the hall, I glance back, but the door is closed.
I reach the lift, doors ping open.
I wobble in, press for the ground, and fall back against the mirrored wall.
I’m going out for dinner tonight with Natte.
Holy crap.
It’s going to be okay.
No, it’s so totally not.
How am I going to explain to my mystery man that I’m canceling to have dinner with Natte Johnson, whom I knew years ago and just interviewed today?
Okay, deep breaths, Shia. It’s not a big deal. Dark night man will understand. It’s just two old friends catching up. One happens to be a global superstar.
Oh crap.
The concierge opens the hotel door, and I step into the busy street. The warm air does nothing
for me. Right now I need a blast of cool…
Looking at my watch, I see it’s 12:45. Digging my phone out of my bag, I decide to call my mysterious man and see if he’s free to have lunch with me so I can tell him about tonight and I was crazily waiting to see what he looked like.
“Hey beautiful.”
Oh, I love his voice. All deep and sensual. So cute.
“Hey, it’s me.”
“Hi baby.” He sounds genuinely pleased to hear from me. He won’t be pleased once I tell him I’m cancelling tonight, that much I know.
“I was wondering if you wanted to grab lunch with me?”
“No. Why suddenly now?”
I sigh and take a deep breath. A headache is already forming.
I only know one way to deal with him, and that is to say the most unreasonable thing possible.
"I miss you, I wanna feel you inside me."