Page 61 of Out of the Gold

He takes the papers from me and places them on the seat next to him. “This is hard.”

“I have faith in you.”

He places his hands on his knees, and I mirror his posture. “You’re right. I can do this. I have to.” He grabs the script. “And you know what you can do for me?”

I bite my lip. “Get you a piece of fruit?”

“Well, yes, but that’s not what I was thinking.” His eyes sweep over my body, and he holds his hand out. “I want something of yours to hold on to during my audition. An anchor, of sorts.”

My mind turns to mush. He wants a piece of me with him, in there? I could give him my earring. Or the bracelet I picked up in Positano. Before I can suggest either one, he continues, “Your thong.”

“My what?” I squeak.

His head bobs. “And I need it now, to help me finish memorizing these lines.”

“Now?”

“Bathroom’s over there. Unless you’d like me to get it myself.” He reaches for my body.

I jump out of my chair and rush away from him. I have zero doubts he’d at least try to remove them from my person right here, right now.

Five minutes later, I walk out of the ladies’ room, sans panties under my skirt. The sensation’s odd. Instead of returning to Charles, who’s deep into studying, I select a banana, an apple, and some grapes for him, as well as a Styrofoam cup of coffee for myself. When I offer him the fruit, our flight is announced.

Motioning toward the door, I say, “That’s us.”

“First things first. Hand ’em over.” He holds out his palm.

I look around, but no one’s paying us any attention. I pull my thong out of my purse and ball up the material. “Here.”

He opens his fist and takes in the green wisp of material. Bringing it to his nose, he inhales.

“Don’t,” I admonish, smacking his hand away from his face.

He laughs and steals a kiss. “That was worth the hell I’m about to go through.”

“Yeah, well, it better be.” I step back as he picks up the overnight bag containing both of our things. Even though we’re not staying even one night, we’re going to need a change of clothes. “Let’s go.” Without checking to see if he’s following me, I head out of the lounge. Sans panties.

“Welcome to JFK,where the local time is three o’clock.”

Ever since we sat on the runway for an extra hour, Charles has been bouncing between frustration at our transportation, to nervous for the audition, to trying—and failing—to flirt with me. “We’re here. You’ll make it by your audition time, no problem at all. Let’s go.”

With only one carry-on, we’re off the plane, through customs, and in a taxi in no time. Charles offers the driver an extra hundred dollars to get us to the address in midtown by four. I take this opportunity to try to pass some calmness into my boyfriend’s demeanor.

“Let the driver do his job, Charles. We’re already in New York City. Your audition’s in ninety minutes. You’ll be great.”

With effort, he pulls his glare away from the man behind the steering wheel and faces me. “Thank you, Goldie. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you weren’t here with me.”

“Probably thrown yourself out of the helicopter over the Amalfi Coast.”

He smiles. It’s a genuine look that transforms his face. “Probably.”

“Want to run your script one last time?”

He shakes his head. “Nah. I’m good. I have it memorized and I’d like to let everything soak in.”

I slide across the seat and nuzzle into his warm, hard body. I try to distract him by drawing circles on his chest, loving the sensation of his heart beating.

The taxi stops at four on the dot. “We’re here,” the driver says.

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