Picture Perfect (3 page)

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Authors: Deena Remiel

BOOK: Picture Perfect
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He had to see her again. Not tomorrow, not next week, but later today.
It’s her birthday and she probably isn’t doing a thing due to her foot.
He decided to bring “Birthday, Party of Two” to her house. He’d give her a few hours to rest, and surprise her. He felt fantastic! After successfully stopping at his house, he parked the car and raced inside to shower and change. He had fun plans to make, and prayed she would appreciate it, rather than think him some lunatic stalker.

***

Birthday surprises waited by the door to be shuttled over to Hope’s house. Jamie combed his hair back and put it up in a ponytail.  Well-worn jeans and a bowling shirt felt right for the event he had planned. His cell phone rang in his pants pocket. He took one look at the number and sighed. Brittany.
Nope. Not dealing with her shit today. I’ll deal with her later
. With a last look in the mirror, he took a deep steadying breath. New territory lay ahead of him. Nerves nearly getting the best of him? Never happened before today. Even on his wedding day he had seemed aloof. That had been Brenda’s day not his. That’d been the problem, always.  He’d played a trophy in Brenda’s life.
Back to present, Jamie-boy. Very different woman you’re about to woo.

He walked out of his house to Hope’s, three doors down, arms piled high with goodies. He set the packages on the front porch, rang the bell, and waited. It took a few minutes, but he heard her scrambling around behind the door.

“I’m coming! One minute!” Hope’s face peeked through the sidelight. At first he saw a frown on her face, but as recognition hit, her face brightened. That made him smile even larger for her when she managed to open the door.

“Happy birthday, Hope.”

“Wha….what is this all about?” She laughed and took a step back as he hoisted the packages back into his arms and walked into her house.

“Where can I put these?”

“Oh my.” She had both hands on her cheeks in utter amazement. “Um….put them on the dining room table over there, I guess.”

He was so pleased he’d caught her off-guard and made her stammer. And even more pleased when he saw her grin from ear to ear, as he set things down. He took a quick look around and noticed the place decorated with posters of romance novel covers, presumably ones that she had done.

“I didn’t expect to see you so soon. So you’ve come to ‘birthday ambush’ me and ply me with all manner of goodies? You are too good to be true!” Her cheeks reddened.

“I hope you’re not expecting more company, because I only brought enough for you and me.”

“No, no. I canceled my birthday shindig as soon as I got home. Not quite up for all the tumult right now. This…. This is perfect. Thank you.”

“Now wait, you have no idea what I’ve brought, so why don’t you go put that foot up while I get things ready. You can decide later if I’m a total flake or right on the mark.”

“I know one thing for sure.”

“What’s that?”

“You are a very caring person, and over the course of the day I’ve grown to like you…a lot.”  She smiled, flicked her hair behind her shoulder, and batted her eyelashes that had moistened with unshed tears. His heart skipped a beat.
She likes me. That’s good. That’s better than good. Slow and steady, my man.

“Thank you, Hope. I guess you can tell that I’ve grown to like you a lot, too.” He reached out a hand to caress her cheek and rested it on her shoulder. Moments went by as he lost himself in the chocolate pools of her eyes. She leaned almost imperceptibly into his palm.

“Well, I should go sit down. My foot is headed towards Throbsville.”

“Of course, stupid me.” He watched her maneuver to the couch in the living room and frowned. He called out from the dining room, “Haven’t those pain pills kicked in yet?”

“Oh, they’ve kicked in and left a while ago. I have to wait another hour before I can take any more.”

“Let’s get started with your birthday fun. It’s sure to take your mind off of the pain.” First, he took out a cold pack for her foot. “Here, crush this while I get the other stuff out. It’ll get good and cold and help with the pain.” He’d walked over and handed it to her  before continuing to unload the madness: a few movies, a hot air popper and popcorn, boxes of movie theatre candy, a bottle of wine and a bottle opener, two plastic cups, a bakery box, forks, paper plates and napkins with Happy Birthday written in big letters, and a card.

He heard giggling while he folded up the reusable grocery bags and set them aside. “What’s so funny?”

“You are!” She laughed some more. “I can’t believe you went to all this trouble for me.”

“No trouble at all. Just fun. Here.” He walked in with the popper, popcorn, candies, and movies. “Pick your movie. They’re all my favorites so whatever you pick is fine with me. Can you point me to a plug and where I can find a bowl so I can pop you the best popcorn of your life?”

“Plug is right behind there.” She pointed to the end table. “And a big bowl is above the fridge, right side cabinet.” She picked up the bundle of movies as he walked out to the kitchen.

Things were starting out so well, he couldn’t believe it. She hadn’t fallen all over him, gushing like an immature teenager, or gotten tongue-tied, or treated him like an object to be shown off. She treated him like a regular guy, as a normal woman should.

“Oh, my God!  You did
not
bring this movie over! And these, too!” Hope shouted and laughed hysterically.

He walked back into the living room to find her slapping her thigh and keeling over onto a side pillow. “Which ones are you talking about?”

She turned the movie cases around for him to see. “Ah, Young Frankenstein. A classic. And Kill Bill Volumes One and Two, a modern cult classic.” He nodded. “You either love Quentin Tarantino or you hate him. Me, he cracks me up.”

“Me, too. I don’t know which to start with first. Help me out, James.” He put the bowl down, got the popcorn popping and sat down beside her. “By the way, should I call you James?  I mean it sounds very formal, and you don’t seem like a formal kind of guy. Do you have a nickname?”

“I introduced myself as James to you because I thought it sounded more serious and a name you could trust when you awoke from your unconsciousness. I use James for professional work and friends. My mom’s the only one who calls me Jamie.”

“Jamie, hmm?” She sat back and stared intently at him. “Yes, I can see you more as a Jamie, actually. It has a playfulness to it that I sense in you.”

“You may certainly call me by that if you want. Let’s try it on for size. Say my name.”

“Jamie.” Her tone, very matter-of-factly. He cocked his head to the side and furrowed his brow.

“Hmmm. Say it again.”

“Jamie.” This time, her voice held a tenderness that tinged the edges.

He leaned toward her, just a touch. Just enough to let her know she intrigued him. “I like the way you say that. Say it again.”

“Jamie,” came out in a breathless sigh as she leaned in towards him so that their lips were but a touch away, and a question played in the sparkle of her eyes.

“Hope,” he murmured and closed his own, moving through that last bit of space to press his lips against hers. They were warm, moist, supple, and tasted of berries.

Gentle, trembling fingers touched his cheek. He raised his own to slide through her hair and cradle the nape of her neck while the other wrapped around her waist to pull her close. Her lips parted slightly, an invitation to explore. He accepted and teased her tongue with his. She moaned and he answered, losing himself in the pureness of this first kiss.

An angry whirring sound broke through the magic, and Jamie felt something hit him lightly on his cheek. Reluctantly, he released his hold on Hope and turned toward the noise, only to be pelted in the face by a piece of popcorn.

“Oh no,” Hope cried out. “We’re being attacked by an alien race of popcorn!”

“Oh shit!” He laughed and quickly turned off the popper. Popped popcorn kernels were everywhere—on the coffee table, on the floor, on the couch around them. “I’m so sorry. I guess it’s time for a new popper. I’ll have this cleaned up in no time.” He started to get up.

“Don’t be silly. Sit down.” She grabbed his arm and pulled him back down next to her. “We’ll take care of it later. Boy, your mother sure trained you well. Besides, I’m not hankering for popcorn right now anyway.”

“Oh no? What are you hankering for?” He raised his eyebrows up and down a few times.

“Those Sweet Tarts you brought and Kill Bill,” she responded sweetly.  He frowned. “That is, right after another one of those kisses you brought over for me, too.” She winked at him, tugged on his shirt collar with both of her hands, and pulled him in close for a soul-searing, breath-taking, I’ve-died-and-gone-to-heaven kiss.

For all intents and purposes, he felt he really did die and go to heaven. But what lurked in the background were negative thoughts. That it would only be a matter of time before reality crashed in and screwed it up. But for now…perfection…utter perfection.

 

 

Chapter Four

 

Afternoon waxed on to evening without notice. Candy had been eaten, movies vaguely watched, and lips sufficiently kissed, suckled, and deliciously bruised from several bouts of heavy petting. All in all, Hope’s birthday turned out to be one hell of a great party—for two.

Jamie had yet another surprise for her. He’d turned the lights out. “Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday dear Hope. Happy birthday to you!”  He walked over to her with a huge cupcake for two on a plate, a lit candle stuck in the middle. “Make a wish, sweet Hope.”

She closed her eyes and didn’t have to think very hard.
Let Jamie be the one.
She blew out her candle. He leaned over and placed a gentle kiss on her lips. “I hope so, too.”

“What?” 
Oh, my God. Did I say my wish aloud? I will just die!

“Whatever you wished for, I hope it comes true for you.” He put the cupcake down and opened the bottle of merlot, pouring each of them a cup.

“You are the sweetest man I’ve ever met.” 

“What can I say? You bring out the best in me. I’d like to make a toast.” He raised his plastic cup. “Here’s to you. May today’s best moments be the worst compared to the rest of your life.”

“With you around, how could that not come true?” She clinked cups and took a sip of her wine. A phone buzzed. His.

“Do you mind? I canceled all my appointments today, but who knows, somebody may have forgotten and is looking for me.”

“No problem, go right ahead.” She watched as his sensual eyes turned stormy.

“Son of a bitch,” he muttered under his breath as he read the text message, and snapped his phone closed.

“What’s the matter?”

He took a deep breath
. “
Better to get it out in the open right now. It’s frustrating and a hazard of my job, unfortunately. At times, I get a model working with me that gets a little….confused, and blurs the line between fantasy and reality.”

“Uh huh.  Let me guess. She thinks that the relationship you’re presenting to the camera is real. I know all about that.” She shook her head. “Was that one of them?”

“Yeah. We’ve worked so well together for a few years now. I’ve tried to be nice about it. She stormed out of a photo shoot yesterday because I wouldn’t….you know, have sex with her. The way she stormed off, I figured she’d finished with me and that would be the end of that.”

“No such luck?”

“Nope. She’s been calling and texting, wanting to ‘make up’ after our ‘lover’s quarrel’. She said she forgives me. Can you believe that?
She
forgives
me
. I can’t begin to tell you how many times I’ve told this girl that it’s just business, nothing more. We’ve never dated. I never spent the night with her. Nothing. She’s just…argh! Damn this business sometimes.” He shook his head and leaned back against the couch, scrubbing his face with his hands.

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