Page 64 of Green
“It’s a promising threat.”
I would have told him that I didn’t much enjoy sewing and would make him buy me a new blouse if he ripped this one, but we were already seconds away from the studio and I could see from the bulge in his jeans and the clenched jaw that he needed to get into the no-boner zone fast. So, like a good friend, I kept silent and pretended not to notice when he shifted things around down there and cursed under his breath.
This party was my first time on the Warner Brothers lot, though I’d driven past the yellowy-beige perimeter many times. I wanted to work there, to design glorious sets that would be built in the big stages on this lot. But for now, it was quite a treat to be there with Theo. I didn’t know that studios rented out space for private events, but it made sense. Apparently these investors and techpreneurs knew how to party. Or at least they knew how to throw a party. It looked no different from a big movie premiere event, with purple, amber and fuchsia spotlights, Warner Brothers-themed set pieces, gorgeous classy bar and seating arrangements and a big stage for the DJ and band to perform.
There were a couple of hundred people milling about the sectioned-off New York street exterior set area of the backlot, and I swear that all of their eyes turned to Theo when we showed up. I felt surrounded by new money, money that was worked for, disrupted money—let’s be honest—nerd money. Theo was in no way the richest or most successful person there, but he seemed to have everyone’s attention without asking for it. Was he the most attractive techpreneur present? Without a doubt. Did he carry himself with the most confidence? Looked that way to me. Was he the most athletic nerd ever? Probably. Regardless of the why, I definitely felt the axis of the party shift as soon as we had arrived.
I was glad I hadn’t really seen him in work situations before this. Because it was a massive turn-on. Theo Walker was The Guy. He was polite and charming, articulate and straightforward, and he introduced me to everyone as Gemma Kelly. Not “my friend Gemma Kelly,” nor “my housemate Gemma Kelly,” or “my secret wife Gemma Kelly.” I was Gemma Kelly—full of possibilities. He wasn’t kidding when he said he was going to introduce me to wealthy people with houses that needed decorating. Literally every venture capitalist and his or her spouse asked me for my card when Theo told them that I did staging and decorating on the side.
When the event photographer approached him for a picture, Theo pulled me in and put his arm around my waist, then asked the photographer to take a picture of us with his phone, with the Batmobile in the background.
Now there were a grand total of two pictures of us together where we weren’t making goofy faces.
He had barely looked straight at me since we got out of the car, but I didn’t read into it at first. There were so many people vying for his attention. When he led me over to the bar and ordered me a glass of red wine and a water for himself, I noticed a distinctly familiar-looking tall thin gentleman.
“Um. Is that Snoop Dogg?”
Theo didn’t look up to check as he reached for the drinks. “Probably. He’s been investing in tech for years, and also, you know, weed-related startups. You should talk to him about that. Maybe he’ll give you some samples.”
“Haha.”
“Joseph Gordon-Levitt was at the conference today,” he mentioned casually.
I squeezed Theo’s arm and started exaggeratedly craning my neck. “Cool. This was fun, thanks for bringing me,” and then I walked off, pretending to look for JGL and thoroughly enjoying my joke. When I walked back to Theo, he did not look at all amused.
“Really? You’re not even going to laugh a little bit?”
“His wife’s probably around here somewhere too. She’s a brilliant robotics scientist.”
“Well, nowI’mjealous. I’m not even an average robotics scientist.” I said this while doing The Robot. The restrictive dress actually improved my dance moves.
His face barely twitched, his jaw was tight, and his body was rigid.
I stood upright again, hand on my hip, lowered my voice.
“Do you want me to leave?”
“Why would I want you to leave?”
“Well you seem very uncomfortable with me here.”
“Do I?” He looked around the immediate area, probably to see if anyone could hear me being an annoying date, then put his arm around my shoulder and pulled me in close as he leaned down to speak directly into my ear: “I’m uncomfortable around you because you’re a fucking knockout and all I can think about is taking you home, peeling that dress off of you, exploring your beautiful naked body with my hands and tongue and fucking you until we both forget that there was ever a time when we didn’t fuck each other. But I can’t do that because I have to stay here for at least another hour, and I have to talk to people who aren’t you, about things that have nothing to do with fucking you. So just do me a favor and act like the confidant woman you are, don’t leave, and also maybe try not to look so goddamn hot, even when you do The Robot like an idiot, okay?”
I cleared my throat and gulped down half my wine. “Okay.” I could definitely do that. With the help of a little more wine.
“There he is!”
“What’s up, ugly?”
I recognized the voices behind me and turned around, even though Theo didn’t look very happy to see his friends. Dale and Preston were his cute nerd buddies from USC, but I hadn’t seen them in ages. Their eyes widened when they recognized me.
“Whoa!” Dale stepped back. “Is this who I think it is?”
“Hey guys!”
Preston, who was always the flirty one, grabbed me and hugged me.
“Oh my God we thought he’d murdered you.”
