CHINA
I switch from staring out the window at the traffic, to stealing quick glances at his profile. He’s fucking gorgeous, but fucking clueless about it. He’s pretty, but in a rugged way. He’s a damn train wreck of destruction every time we’re in each other’s vicinity, and I find myself being a sarcastic and snappy witch as I try to garner a rise out of him, but it’s entertaining.
Every time he’s on edge and wishing to say something, I poke the bear a bit further, hoping to see his true colors shine through. I’m expecting a temper, an asshole comment, or just a smarmy remark that deters me. But nope. He’s perfect. He’s nice, and it makes me laugh inside every time he mutters a curse about how I’m killing him, or fuck me, or even a, you’ll be the death of me.
“So, you gonna tell me where we’re going, big guy, or what?” I ask.
“Well first, we have to pick up my other car, then we’re going to a place in the Valley, a place called Creaper’s Gear. I doubt you’ve stepped foot in that part of town, so this should be a culture shock, sweetie.”
He figures I’m a true princess, living in my ivory tower where I have money, and everything I could want. He’ll be the surprised one. The culture shock will be his, not mine.
“You’re right, I don’t venture to the Valley much.” I raise my voice, sounding like a scared, silly girl. “I’ll be screaming in terror by the dirty homeless and offal hanging out. How will I live without you, Officer.” He huffs at me. I’m guessing because I call him officer and not by his first name. More and more, I find I’m enjoying getting a rise out of him.
As we turn toward Hollywood proper and into the hills, I wonder where he lives.
“So, Officer Mason, tell me about yourself. Likes, dislikes, and stanky fetishes.”
It earns me a deep laugh that I’m pleasantly surprised by.
“Risen or Ri, China. Take your pick, but please stop calling me Officer Mason.”
“Fine. RiRi—”
“Ri or Risen, China.”
“Fine. Let’s play twenty questions. I’ll go first because I thought it up, and you’ll answer truthfully because I said so. Ready, RiRi?”
“China,” he says with caution.
“Okay. Risen, I’ll be good.”
“Give it a go then, China, ask away.” He waves me on with a nonchalant movement before signalling and switching lanes. We’re heading onto Laurel Canyon Blvd., heading to where I definitely don’t expect to be with him as my chaperone.
“Where’d you grow up?”
“Little spit of a place in the mountains of Montana.”
“Montana?”
“The one and only ma’am. My turn. What’s your favorite flower?”
Hmm. Easy questions. “Purple poppies. When was the first time you had sex?”
“Ten. You?”
“Pass.” I pause, blush a bit, and say, “Next question. Was it worth it?”
“Pass,” he says, blushing. “Have you ever had a long-term boyfriend? No one sees you with anyone.”
“That’s because they had to pass through the gates of hell, past my overprotective brother first. Only after being anointed by him could they reach my mother. So, same question for you. Any long-term relationships? Am I interrupting a standing bumpy friend because you’ve been saddled with me?” Pursing his lips, he shakes his head as we venture further into the rolling hills of Hollywood Hills mansions.
“Okay, my question. Favorite bike.”
“Easy. My KRGT-1. The one you had peeled apart on the side of Crenshaw.”
“About that, I’m sorry. I had no choice in the matter.”
I’m curious, and my curiosity has finally killed the cat. “So why is it you didn’t have a choice, Officer?”
“You may not have a boss, but I did. His instructions were implicit. “Arrest her, and put the paperwork on my desk in an hour or else.” Not much of a choice, China.”
“So, you really didn’t want to.” Seeing our fun conversation going sideways, I try to pull it back to the sillier side of things. “Pets?”
“Excuse me?”
“Do you have any pets? I always wanted one, and it was expressly forbidden in the house of Crown. Mom was allergic, and my Dad felt it was unfair for the pet. We’re never around. So, pet?”
“You’ll see soon enough.”
“I’m guessing it takes up the front seat?”
“You could say that.” Pulling the car up to a gate, Risen hits a button on his dash and the gates open silently. Turning down a lane longer than mine, we pull up to a sprawling white and glass, modern piece of industrial art. I think my jaw hits the dash. I’ll clean up the drool later.
“Nice place you have here. Rent out the back bedroom?”
“No. Like you, I’m the product of wealthy parents.” Looking out the window as we pull up, I take in the neatly manicured front and very minimalistic look, which is not unlike so many other homes of the area, and the clean lines of it.
“Warning,” Risen cautions. “The dog isn’t an attack dog, but he’s an overly trained idiot.”
Smiling, I pat his hand before taking it back quickly, shocked at my own movement. “Thanks, Risen. I consider myself forewarned.”
As we pull up, park, and disembark from the car, Risen opens the front door. Stepping inside, we’re immediately greeted by a horse. His legs flail as his gangly gait seems out of step. He stumbles, trips, and saunters up to Risen with his nub of a tail wagging back and forth furiously.
“Moron, meet China. China, meet the moron.” With a tongue lolling out the side of his mouth, the large curly fro’d animal swings its back end in joy.
“Tell me his name isn’t moron.”
“No, it’s just what I call the disastrous idiot. It’s Harvey, but he’ll come to anything. Won’t you, you blundering idiot.” Risen pats the top of his head and strokes behind its ears a few times before telling it to be on its way. “I’ll be right back. I just need to get my other keys and open the garage. You okay here with Harvey?”
I nod, grin, and kneel down to scratch the oversized fluff ball. “All good. Get what you need. We’ll be making friends.”
Watching Risen head off two stairs at a time, he disappears down the hall, out of sight. Harvey stays with me until Risen disappears, scampering off in his shadow.
Not two seconds later, Risen shouts out, “Fucking maniac! Get off the bed!” I laugh as I imagine the hulking beast taking over any space.
While I wait for his return, I inspect the space. The house is light and airy, with tons of windows and glass. There’s modern art in every corner, first edition pictures on the walls, but no family pictures. Nothing is personalized, and nothing that denotes love and care. I’m used to this. A few of the pictures I recognize. There’s a Jackobi Mislow and a Priscot Wane. His parents really have an eye for prestigious up-and-coming artists. Those two were only introduced a few months ago at an unveiling in the MOCA.
“My mother really has an eye for the new artists.” Sneaking up, standing so close, I feel Risen’s breath on my neck.
“It’s beautiful. She has taste.”
“I’d hope so. She owns the MOCA.” Tapping my shoulder, he motions for me to join him. “Come on, the shop closes soon. We need to get a move on.”