Method(63)

“I think I understand how complex your job is now.”

“Do you?”

“Yeah, I think I get it. I mean you transform with or without makeup, but I can’t seem to be anyone but me right now, if that makes sense.”

His arms tighten around me. “It does.”

“This is…” I laugh nervously, “this is fantastic, whatever you have planned, I think you should know I’m having an awesome time already.”

He turns me to face him, the warmth in his eyes stunning me silent before he cups my face and his lips descend, his thick brows tickling my forehead.

It’s a strange sensation, and I have to fight a smile when his lips prompt me for more. We try to dive to connect but break apart when a laugh bursts out of me and I’m met with his old man frown.

“Sorry, that was a little weird.”

“Yeah, this is definitely only for tonight,” he says, slightly aggravated.

“But oh, what a night it is already,” I say with a smile. He turns my hand over in his lap running his fingers from my palm to my wrist. His tender touch prompts my question. “You still think you can get the girl, Hollywood?”

“I’ll never stop trying,” he replies before we manage another kiss, one that goes far deeper.





We’re dropped a few blocks from our stop and get nothing but disappointed looks from expectant faces waiting to see who’s emerging from the limo. It’s all I can do to keep from laughing when Lucas grips my hand. “Wow. They have no clue.”

He picks up the pace with me in tow.

“Hey, we’re supposed to be old.”

“We need to make up a little time.”

“Want to let me in on the secret now?”

“We’re almost there,” he assures me. “Just follow my lead.”

We start to approach the theater, and Lucas slows his walk to a leisurely pace, so I follow suit.

“We’re going to the movies?”

He stays silent and squeezes my hand. I zip it. Within seconds of entering the ticket line, we’re approached by a man with a clipboard.

“Hey, there folks, how are we doing tonight?”

Lucas responds in his new native tongue.

“Good evening. We’re well, thank you.”

“I’m sorry to interrupt you folks, but I was wondering if you’d be interested in a special screening we have tonight.”

Lucas plays his part. “What movie?”

“Not at liberty to say, but it’s coming out in the next year, and I think you and your wife may enjoy it. Once you sign this release, I’ll be able to give you more details.”

Lucas turns to me brows raised as if it all depends on my answer and I take my cue and nod.

“Great,” the guy says, handing us a waiver to fill out when we step out of line. “Just take this to the man over there when you’re done, and he’ll get you where you need to be.

I stand idly by as Lucas fills out the form.

“Gladys? Really?”

“Shut up, Dame,” he says in a whistle through his teeth.

“Sorry. But your name better damn well be as…wait,” I say in a heated whisper reading as he writes, “you get to be Sean McConnery?”

He chuckles as he walks us over to the usher and hands him the papers. “Welcome, Mr. and Mrs. McConnery.”

A few minutes later we’re guided into the theater and placed closer to the front due to my ‘hearing’ problem.

“Funny,” I say, jabbing him in the ribs once we’re seated. “Not only do I get the worst of southern names but you make me hard of hearing as well. “You apparently are since you can’t seem to follow direction and keep your mouth shut,” he says, giving me the side-eye.

“Geesh, sorry, I’m just…excited.”

“I know, baby,” he says, kissing the back of my hand.

“So, will you tell me now?”

“It’s our movie, Dame.”

“What?” I say, sitting up in my seat turning to look at him. “Cairo? You’re kidding.”

“Shhh,” he says. “It’s a test screen.”

“I figured that much, but surely the movie can’t be ready?”

“It’s not totally, you’ll see.”

“This is so exciting!”

He leans over and smashes his mouth to mine to shut me up, and my laughter bubbles between us. He pulls away, shaking his head.

“Okay, I’m using my inside voice. So, this is how it works, they pull regular people off the street?”

He nods. “It’s the best way to get a genuine reaction.”

“How did you know they would pick us?”

“We’re the top of the food chain demographic wise. People our age don’t go to movies that often. They want our input too.”

“That’s smart. And you do this with every movie?”

“No, rarely ever. But I don’t come to watch the movie,” he juts his chin toward the people seated. “I come to watch them.”

“Alone?”

“Not anymore,” he says, squeezing my hand. “As long as I bring a muzzle.”

“Har, har.” He’s joking, but I can sense the slightly new strain in his posture. “Has it ever been bad?”