Page 21 of The Close-Up
When I look up at Simon, he’s chewing and frowning. “So you don’t just do that when you eat at home?”
“Do what?”
“Sound like you’re having an orgasm when you take your first bite of food.”
I cover my mouth as I laugh. Once I’m sure I won’t choke on my food, I finish chewing and swallow.
“Oh come on,” I say. “You’re telling me you’ve never made a sound like that enjoying incredible food?”
He tugs on the string of his hoodie, then grins before looking away.
“I’ll take your silence as a yes,” I say.
We share the rest of the egg tarts while people-watching.
“Did you decide on a name for the series yet?” he asks.
I nod while I finish chewing. “I was thinkingSimply Simon.”
The second I say it, a grin dances on his lips. “I love it.”
“Yeah?”
“It’s perfect. Direct. Self-explanatory. Easy to remember. A lot of people think my life is weird. Or pornographic. But it’s really not. When you get past all the preconceived notions, I’m pretty basic. It’s cool that you get that.”
“Thanks. That means a lot,” I say.
When he sticks his hand in the front pocket of his hoodie, he frowns. “What the...”
He pulls out a scrap of paper and shows it to me.
I live in San Francisco too. You’re hot. Call me sometime.
A phone number is scrawled underneath.
That must have been the whole reason for the Margot Robbie look-alike falling into him minutes ago. I let out a cackle that has everyone walking nearby gawking at me.
“What?” Simon stares at me.
When I catch my breath, I explain it to him.
The look in his eyes is a mix of disbelief and amusement. “I’ve never had a woman slip me her number like that before. They usually just type it into my phone. Or they outright ask for mine.”
“Oh dear god. That is such a humble brag,” I groan. “Actually, that’s not even that humble. You’re basically saying that you’re so irresistible, women come up to you regularly and try to pick you up.”
He tilts his head at me. “That’s how we met. Remember?”
I push his arm, but he doesn’t budge. He’s too sturdy.
“What can I say? I’m clearly irresistible.”
He wiggles an eyebrow at me and I laugh at the mock-arrogance in his comment. But really, it’s not arrogance. More like confidence. Maybe if I hadn’t witnessed him patiently walk his grandma through using her smart phone the other day, I’d write Simon off as just another cocky guy who’s all too aware of his attractiveness. But he’s so much more than that.
“Will you bust out that modest charm when you call her?”
He studies the brown bag. “I’m not sure if I’ll call.”
“Why not?”
