Page 31 of The Close-Up
Simon stays quiet for a moment before a smile pulls at his lips. “I’m down. But you have to make your own fuck-it list too and do something from it as well. Fair’s fair.”
I roll my eyes. “Fine. But I’m not doing it on camera. This series is supposed to just be about you. I’m making a list because fair’s fair, and you shouldn’t be the only one doing something.”
“Okay, deal.”
For the next minute we quietly scribble. When I finish, I slide my list to Simon; he slides his to me.
When I read the first item on his list, my eyes go wide. “Are you serious?”
His expression remains confident. He doesn’t even blink. “Dead serious. I’ve always wanted to.”
I stammer as I grin, positively giddy at the prospect of Simon doing this on camera for the series. When he winks at me, I could squeal. This dude is unflappable and so self-assured. I love it so, so much.
“Yours is a lot tamer than mine,” he says while squinting at my list. “And you only wrote one thing down.”
“I guess I’m just super boring.”
“Not boring. Just different. I like it.”
There’s the hint of warmth in my chest. I focus back on his list and circle number one. “I’m psyched to see you do this. You sure you want to?”
“Positive. I can’t wait, actually. We can do both of ours the same day. Or night. Night might be better.”
“Okay. Sure,” I say, despite the grimace on my face.
Simon’s smile turns gentle. “If you’re not comfortable, Naomi, you don’t have to do it.”
I shake my head. “No. I want to. I’ve always wanted to. I just may need your help.”
“At your service.”
I ignore the butterflies that statement sends to my stomach.
“When should we do it?” Simon asks.
“How about Saturday? In the Castro district.”
That glimmer in Simon’s eyes shines brighter than I’ve seen. “Can’t wait.”
Chapter Eight
I stand outside the entrance of Bangerz, a popular male strip club at the edge of the Castro District, my stomach in knots. I shouldn’t be. I’m not the one entering their amateur night. Simon is.
But as I fumble with my phone to double-check that it has enough battery for this evening, I know we have to be strategic about this. It’s challenging enough that I’ll be filming this on my phone—there’s no way any strip club would let me bring in my clunky bag of camera gear and openly film someone performing at their establishment. I’m also gonna have to play it off like Simon and I are together and I’m just filming him for shits and giggles. If they knew it was for an online series, it would result in loads of release forms, getting permission from the owner, and a million other pain-in-the-ass things. I need to make this look like an authentic spontaneous moment.
And then I have to hope that the footage will be good enough to use in episode two.
I take a deep breath and straighten my cross-body bag, then zip up my jacket against the damp chill of evening that’s a trademark of San Francisco nights, even in the summer.
I remind myself that it’ll all work out. The premiere ofSimply Simonhappened days ago and was a megahit. It garnered more views in its first few hours on the Dash website than any of the interview videos posted. People are going to love episode two just as much. I just have to have faith.
I scan the street for Simon and spot him crossing the street down the block. He’s wearing a dark gray bomber jacket, dark shirt, jeans, and sneakers. For a moment I wonder if he chose such a simple outfit because it’ll be easier to strip off. My cheeks are fire at the thought.
I watch him stroll along the pavement, his posture and his expression easy, not looking the slightest bit nervous.
He grins as he walks up to me. “Hey. You weren’t waiting long for me, were you?”
“Nope. Just a couple of minutes. Are you ready?”
