Page 68 of Hello Darling
I take a big bite and wink at her. “Mmm. Nothing I love more than sinking my teeth into a spongy buttered crumpet.”
She blushes. “Why does everything you say sound so dirty to me now?”
“Because every thought you have about me now is so dirty.”
She smirks and is about to say something witty and delightful, I expect, but her breath catches as her eyes dart over towards the counter. “Shit,” she mutters, frowning.
I look over and see that the Kwas is standing over there with his camera out, finger on the screen, blatantly taking pictures or filming us. I look back at Stella, who is glaring at him.
“Just look at me,” I say, smiling.
“That fucking turd. He isn’t even hiding.”
“Look at me, darling,” I say calmly. She finally does as I ask. “Just keep smiling, darling. Ignore him.”
“But he’s being an idiot.”
“Yes, and it’s important that you don’t look upset in the pictures.”
“Why? Oh my God—you don’t think he’s going to try to sell them to gossip sites or something?”
I continue to smile. “It’s possible. He might be a very enterprising young man, you never know.”
“No way. I’m gonna kill him.” She scoots her chair back and starts to get up.
“Sit down, luv, right now.” I use my stern schoolteacher voice, and she seems to like it. She sits down immediately and her lips part a tiny bit. I’ll have to remember to try that again later. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see that he’s still filming or taking pictures or whatever, holding his phone up and moving slowly to get different angles.
I lower my voice. “Just pretend you don’t know he’s there. If you yell and chase after him, that’s the shot they’ll use online and you’ll look like a crazy person. I want to be the only one who sees you going crazy, when I look up at you from between your gorgeous legs.” I lift up my mug of Yorkshire Gold. “Cheers.”
She seems to relax at that thought, and clinks mugs with me. “I’ll drink to that.” She laughs into her tea. “Well, at least I’ve come clean to my family about you.”
“Oh yes? What exactly did you tell them?”
“That we’ve been seeing each other. That we’d be going out tonight. That I’m rather fond of you.”
I lick butter from my thumb. “I told my parents I’m fond of you too.”
She looks quite shocked by that. “You did? Really?”
“When we Skyped yesterday, sure. Calm down, they were just asking if I’d made any new friends here.”
“Oh. Well, anyway. I still think Jason’s too dumb to know what to do with pictures of famous people, but whatever. He’ll probably just tell his buddies at work.”
“It’s not so different, you know. Dating in a small town and dating a person of fame.”
“Oh my God just say ‘famous person!’ It’s like you do that just to bug me.”
I grin at her.
“Oh. You are doing it just to bug me. Well done.”
“As I was saying.”
“Yes, the paparazzi and everyone gossiping about it, I get it.”
“Still, I would strongly encourage you tonotGoogle my name for a while so you can avoid whatever may come of this online. I haven’t Googled myself in years and I’m so much happier for it.”
“Yeah, but you pay people to Google you.”
“Indeed I do. But I also pay them to not tell me about it unless I ask them to or there’s something very important I should know about. So don’t Google me. Promise? I’m here with you. That’s all that matters.”
She leans forward and takes my hand over the table again. “Tell me more about you between my legs. That’s something very important that I’d like to know more about.”
“Well, where to begin?” I say, as if she’d asked me about my favorite movies. “I like to begin by kissing your ankle, and then slowly kissing up your bare leg as I rest it on my shoulder and then grab you by the ass while I make my approach to your tight, wet, pink fanny and my tongue swirls around your perky little clit.”
“Ohhh myyy!” says Mrs. Flauvich, as she appears out of nowhere and places three plates of food on our table. “Holy schnitzel,” she says, grabbing her heart with one hand and Stella’s shoulder with the other, then scuttling away to the kitchen in back.
Stella covers her mouth with both hands, shaking with laughter, completely forgetting about The Kwas who is still holding his phone up by the counter.
“Speaking of pounded meat,” I continue…
