Page 12 of The Singapore Stunt

It’s only been a few hours, but I see what Xavier is talking about. She’s my favorite dream and worst nightmare, all rolled into one.

Once again, the door swings open before I knock. Add another attribute to the pile: punctual. She’s changed into a navy-blue-and-white-striped sundress that stops mid-thigh, and my treasonous eyes take a long sip of her milk-white, curvy legs. When they finally rise and meet her gaze, she has a playful smirk on her beautiful face. She’s caught me.

“Looks like I chose well.” She finger combs her hair, which is flatter and darker and still wet from her shower. “The hat will have to wait. But with this heat, it shouldn’t take long for my hair to air-dry.” She grabs a fistful of hair and holds it up like a bun on the top of her head. “Is it safe for me to leave it out for you?”

“Me?” Guilt races through me for an instant. She not only noticed my reaction last time, but is now teasing me about it.

“Let me know if it’s a trigger for you or something…” She gives me that Hollywood smile that makes a million men keel over, and I realize I’m not immune.

“Out, covered, chopped off. Don’t do me any favors. I’m not your bo—” My word vomit catches up to me. She’s done it again. Why am I suddenly a stammering sixteen-year-old kid again?

“For the next few days, you kinda are.” Her wink tugs on something in my chest harder than the pull she gives the door. Her hand taps the front of my shoulder, and her touch nearly incinerates me. “My boss, that is.” She completes the statement that made me think the impossible. Is this her superpower? Making others believe they are worthy of feats they know they’re not?

I find the strength to breathe again. I turn and follow her down the steps.

“Where to? And am I driving again?”

I don’t need to see her face to know she’s pulling my chain. I can’t recall the last woman who had this effect on me. And then I do.

It was nearly a decade ago. Another sunshine type who had me believing in rainbows and fairy tales. When trouble arrived, she used that moment of darkness to escape out the back door, taking with her my belief in the happily ever after.

These days, I believe in the here and now. I don’t live for the tomorrows or the future. Broken promises will do that to you.

I remind myself of the hard lessons learned. “I’ll drive, and I’m not taking you to your usual spot.”

“Oh, don’t tell me you read my blog post listing my top ten restaurants. That’s so sweet of you.” It’s only been a minute, but the curls in her hair are already making an appearance. At this rate, I’ll be a goner before we sit for dinner.

“I have no idea what you are talking about. We’re not headed to some celebrity chef six-star restaurant. You’ll be slumming with me.” I’m back to barking. Apparently, I only have two modes, grunting or stammering. “And I have a baseball cap in the car.”

“Yes, boss.” Her giggle makes my heart skip, and I stomp to the car, wishing to fast-forward the rest of this night. I open her door. “Such a gentleman.” Her voice fills with a lightness that makes me want to live in her world. One without concerns. With million-dollar movie star friends, parties every night, private jets, and exotic vacations. That was the dream that was within my reach when my world came crashing down. The dream shattered along with my future.

I stream a local station. Peranakan folk music, a popular local music that combines English lyrics with Malay tunes. It’s grown on me. The drive is short; most drives in Singapore are. The city-state island is a mere seventeen miles long, thirty-one miles wide. With our filming centered on the Marina Bay area, our housing and nearly everything we will need is within a few miles of the bay.

“A hawker center,” Kimberly whispers as I pull the car into the parking lot.

“Are you familiar?” My curious question floats in the air as I shut off the car and exit.

“Yeah, a friend of mine told me about them,” she answers while unbuckling her seat belt.

I walk around the car, and she steps out. She lifts her chin and shakes loose her curls, which are already dry. The magnificent mane behaves as if they are under mind control, falling in perfect placement across her thin, exposed shoulders. I point to the cap on the dash, and her brow furrows.

“You serious?” For the first time, I hear a bite in her voice.

I won’t back down. “It’s for your own protection. Trust me.” I’ve been told I’m gruff. A too-serious a-hole is how one actress called me on the last set. I get that. Most days, I embrace it. But this is not me being an overbearing jackass. I truly mean every word. I’ve never had so little control in the presence of a woman before in my life. And it’s scaring the hell out of me.

“And what if I refuse?” Gone is the bite, her words laced with curiosity and a hint of adventure.

We are standing toe to toe next to the car, the door still swung open, my hand resting on the top of the frame. “You’ll run the risk of this night turning into something completely different.”

We’re two adults. My intentions are obvious. Yet she responds, “Is that something you want?”

“I want you to put on the baseball cap.” I grind my teeth. “I want to be able to focus on my job for longer than twelve seconds without thinking about running my hands through your hair.” Her breath hitches, and my heart is off to the races. “I want you to not be so damn adorable. I want to not think about how you will taste on my lips. I want to not be just another fanboy in the miles-long line that must exist at your feet.”

She tips her chin up, her gaze drinking in every single syllable as if anything I say matters. It doesn’t. I’m just another man who has fallen for her charm. I’m nothing special. And that sucks.

Her lower lip quivers, and her gorgeous brown eyes swirl in uncertainty. Why? I don’t know. I hold my breath and wait for the verdict.

“Errr,” she starts, and my heart sinks. She lowers from the tips of her toes down to the ground and avoids my gaze. She’s kind and won’t mention the hideous scar across my face. But it’s there. It’s always there, even when I forget the world reminds me. She reaches back into the car, snagging the baseball cap, and I take two steps back. My fate is sealed.

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