9. DISTANCE
Ciro has been gone for three days. I’ve worked a lot as usual, but it’s different when you’re crazy in love and want your darling’s hands and mouth on you nonstop. I get his words, every morning, every lunch hour, every afternoon. He’s there with me, calling, skyping, Facebooking, whatever is convenient in the moment.
My boyfriend is the most considerate man in the universe. He writes me words he doesn’t call poems because they’re not finished. “I just write when I think of you. A word or two or a sentence. It’s why they’re all odd-sounding.”
“Can I see?” I ask when he tells me via video chat.
“No, they look odd on paper. I write them to be said out loud.”
“Really? You’re such a performer,” I tease, and I almost sound like I’m purring. He lowers his own voice into something that could stroke a girl into orgasm.
“Guess I am, baby girl. You want to hear?”
“Yes!”
He lets out a breath, eyes on me and glittering.
Gold-hearted heart-fillers
Conquer detached worlds and morale-killers
Frail but strong
Beautiful but real
She chases my truth and devours my love.
I swallow, staring at him. The sparkle in his eyes freezes as he waits. When I don’t speak right way, he does.
“Anyway.” He shrugs. “Just a little something. I like words and how true they can be. Actually, I like them when they’re not true too.”
“Yeah. Wow, that was a lot in there, huh?”
He chuckles, gaze brightening again. “Yeah, I tend to cram shit into one little cluster of them.”
“Can I have it in writing?” I ask. “I don’t remember all of it.”
He shakes his head slowly. “I can’t give you that. Ask something else of me.”
“Why not?” I try to sound seductive, but it doesn’t come out the way it did a moment ago when I spoke without thinking. “You have it written down, right? You didn’t just invent all that?”
His smile grows, making him look boyish and young. “You think highly of me, Miss Savannah, if you think I can cough stuff up just by looking at you.”
I blush. Then he adds, “Wait, maybe I could,” and bores a sensual stare into me. I blush harder.
“You’re so cute when you get flustered,” he murmurs, accommodating himself on the screen to see me better. “I love it. I hope you never change.”
Me, I’m glad my hands are cold. They chill my cheeks while I roll my eyes at him. “You’re so mean.”
“What? Because I enjoy your you-ness? I love you exactly how you are.” His smile fades, giving way to tenderness. “God, I wish I were there with you right now. I need my arms around you. Escape with me this weekend? Just a long weekend, baby. I want to spoil you away from the Valley.”
My heart skips like it does every time he mentions it. “Where were you thinking?”
“Anywhere. India. Hawaii.”
“On such short notice? And plus those are long flights for a weekend.”
He laughs softly. “I forget my girl isn’t used to traveling.”
“I’m used to traveling.” Lie.
“Would you come along if we were close to home?”
I chew on my lip because there’s this smile that’s trying to break through. I’m considering it, a weekend away from the Valley, from my mom and her crazy ideas, from the house and all of my jobs. This coming week isn’t the hardest, actually. I could rig it. My heart palpitates like I should get checked.
“Phew,” I say, and he shakes his head at me.
“You’re such a thinker. Let go for a moment, Savannah.”
“Okay. Yes. I’d go if it were closer to home.”
“Santa Barbara it is then. I’ll have my PA make the arrangements.”
“Ciro! No, wait a second.”
He does, brows sinking over his eyes in suspicion. “Waiting.”
“I’ll do it if you send me the poem.”
“It’s not a poem, and it’s a no-can-do. Gotta get off, babe. Lunch break’s over, and it’s back to the grind. I’ll be booking us a resort next.”
“Wait! Wait. Recite it to me again.” My voice is desperate, and it confuses both of us. “Sorry, I mean— I just really liked it, and I want to think about it. I can’t think about it if I don’t remember it.”
“You liked it?”
Out of nowhere a lump starts to grow in my throat. I think I’m just frustrated. I’ve never felt this way about a man. He’s too good to be true. Too far away. I have this hole in my chest filled with emptiness and longing because he’s not here. If only I had those words after he logged off.
This is PMS. That’s what it is. God. “Yeah, I like it.”
“And now you’re sad?”
“No. It’s just. Gah, I gotta go.”
“Savannah!”
I pause and press a finger to my eye so I don’t tear up. “Yes?”
“I’m back late tomorrow night. Okay? It might tip over midnight, but I’ll be back. Thirty-six hours. Can you do that for me?”
“Do what?” I let out a choked laugh.
“Hang in there for thirty-six hours? I miss you too.”
Shit. He’s so perceptive. And kind. And wanting everything good for me. I should look into medication that can temper my reactions so that I act like a normal person.
“Of course, no problem,” I manage.
“I’ll come straight to your house. No, even better: go to my house. Wait for me there. Two-four-four-six-eight-one.”
“What?” I sniffle.
“The code to the gate. The same code works on the alarm system to the house. I’ll give Mrs. Brandt a heads up you’ll be coming.”
“Oh god.” The tears come anyway now. I wobble-smile, and his responding smile blows into a grin.
“Damn, you’re adorable. Is that a yes? Will you and Princess, both of my girls, be there when I come home tomorrow night?”
“Probably,” I half-snicker. “You might have two girls in your bed when you arrive.
“No, no,” he mock-chides. “No dogs in my bed.”
“Sorry, I can’t make that kind of promises.” I tilt the lid of my laptop backward so I show only the underside of my chin. “You’re not the boss of us.”
“Savannah?”
“Uh-huh?”
“I have to go, okay?”
“Yeah.”
“But check your messenger in a few.”
I do. And what I find is a recording of his voice. Deep, melodious, and unhurried, he recites,
Gold-hearted heart-fillers
Conquer detached worlds and morale-killers
Frail but strong
Beautiful but real
She chases my truth and devours my love.
I have red lingerie stuffed into the overnight bag waiting in the back of my beetle. It makes me giddy and impulsive at Mintrer’s. Frieda and Charlotte both know of my plans, and for once, they have the same reaction: eye-rolling.
Usually, I’m not in charge of much after-work cleanup, but of course tonight was the exception. Relieved, I finally leave work at eleven forty-five, and my pulse rises with my ascent on Hillside. I’m glad nighttime in the Valley doesn’t involve traffic. If it did, I wouldn’t have been keying in the code to the funkis bunker only fifteen minutes later.
Lights shine from the living room, and the porch lights are on. Maybe he asked his housekeeper to leave it like that for me? Or maybe he always leaves a few lights on for Princess. My heart lurches as I think that’s probably it.
A single, deep bark greets me from upstairs. I call out Princess’ name, and she replies with a happy whine. I take the stairs in a few strides, and she greets me with sloppy kisses and loud complaints. Then she flops to her back to show her pink belly.
She’s nothing like Mr. Dakapoulos’ little yappy dogs. This here is pure love and generous chubby muscle. I nudge her stomach with my nose, sweet-nothing-talking her, and she lets out happy-sounds of her own.
“We need to hurry, sweetie. Let’s go.”
She scrambles along with me, nails sliding across the bamboo floor. We make our way to the master, where the bed is beautifully made, fresh red linens stretched with that fluffy down comforter on top. I smile a little, drawing them to the side.
My watch shows twelve fifteen. He can be here at any moment. I want us both to be in bed when he comes. I stalk into his bathroom, peel off my work clothes, and stuff them into my bag. Then, I take out the red lingerie, the color of passion, and leave it on the sink while I dive into his rainforest shower.
I cover my hair so it doesn’t get wet. It still looks nice. Then, I turn on five shower heads at once, leaving myself in a three-minute heaven of steam and rushing water. Coconut shower gel. I know he likes it. I wash myself down there too though he loves my flavor. I purse my lips, embarrassed at the thought.
Next, I’m out of the shower, drying off with Princess whining at me from the open door. “Shh, he’ll be home soon, okay?”
Princess wiggles her tail in agreement, hips following suit.
Coconut oil. I’m getting fancy lately. Is that how everyone becomes when they have a boyfriend they can’t stop thinking about? This oil is for the body. If you put on just the right amount, it disappears into your skin, leaving it smooth and supple and mouthwatering. I lick my arm after applying it, and nod. “Yep, it tastes sweet,” I tell Princess, who jerks her head back playfully.
Car. Outside. Oh no! Too soon. I laugh out loud, brush my teeth so quickly I can’t possibly have gotten rid of anything. As I switch off the master light and stumble-run to the bed, Princess bounds for the window. She does her single bark, then wiggles her entire butt like she knows it’s her daddy.
As the front door opens quietly downstairs, I tiptoe to the bedroom door, shut it, and grab Princess by the collar. “Shhh.” I even lift a finger for emphasis, crossing my mouth with it in case she prefers sign language. Next, we’re both in bed, under the covers. She whimpers, objecting to this wild plan. I suppress a laugh.
The door opens silently. Then it closes again, but I hear no footsteps moving toward me. I open my eyes and realize he never came in. He must have forgotten something. I hear my heart in my ears. I bite my lip, more nervous by the second. What’s he up to out there?
The shower runs in the guest bathroom by the stairs, and I puff an exhale. Adrenaline kicks in, working me up. A thought at the back of my mind suggests that maybe he saw me and decided to sleep in the guestroom. A bigger, more reasonable thought tells me he’s cleaning up after the flight and he doesn’t want to wake me up.
The room is so dark with all the lights off that I barely see his silhouette sneaking toward me minutes later. I get the flight instinct, the one reminding me how I’m crushing Status Quo. Next thing I know is he’s assaulted by Princess, who does not have an inside voice with her daddy.
“Princess,” he chuckles, his voice a whisper. “Shhh. Calm down, girl. We don’t want to wake Savannah.”
Princess doesn’t give a shit, and neither do I.
I reach out, finding smooth skin and a waft of fresh pine. As soon as he feels my fingers on his back, he falls down over me, crushing me into the mattress with his hips against mine. I laugh breathlessly, and he kisses me without words.
His body jerks while he kisses me. It takes me a minute to realize what he’s doing until I hear the telltale thump of a Pitbull girl hitting the floor.
“God you’re delicious,” he murmurs. “I’ve missed you. Lovely, lovely Savannah.”
“I’ve missed you,” I purr, and then he’s under the sheets and there’s only one reality that matters in the whole world. Ours.