Victorious(49)

“It’s not lost on me that those are the same weeks you’ve known me.”

She takes my hand, brings it to her lips and looks at me with gorgeous green eyes. The color is still new to me, but the warmth, affection and love are familiar by now yet no less humbling than they were when I first knew her.

“Just when I think I can’t love you any more than I already do,” I tell her, “I find out there’s more, so much more.”

The chime sounds to indicate the front door is opening. “Is it safe to come in?” Addie calls.

“Everyone is dressed,” I say with a smile for Natalie.

Addie comes in, a tray of coffees in hand and a pile of mail that she places on the counter for me to go through when I have time. “Morning! How’d it go with the FBI?”

“Fine.” I take two of the coffees from her and hand one to Nat. “Natalie ruined all his fun.”

“I would’ve liked to have seen that,” Addie says.

“It was quite a show.” Right then and there, an idea comes to me that takes my breath away because it’s that captivating.

“Flynn?” Natalie asks. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Just thinking about something for work.”

“He does that,” Addie says with a smile for Nat. “Spaces out in the middle of conversations when he gets a big idea. What is it this time?”

“It’s…” I can’t say it out loud or even entertain the possibility without first speaking to Natalie. “It’s not ready for discussion yet. Early stages.”

The doorbell rings. “That’ll be Tenley,” Addie says of the stylist who has been dressing Natalie for award season. She goes to open the door.

“You’re sure you’re up for this today?” I ask her.

“I’m positive. I wouldn’t dream of missing a chance to celebrate my talented husband.”





Natalie enjoys the Oscar luncheon at the Beverly Hilton and the opportunity to meet more of my friends and colleagues, who are equally fascinated by her. I take a lot of razzing about giving up my bachelor status, about strapping on a “ball and chain” and all the usual bullshit guys say to each other. But my “ball and chain” is absolutely stunning in a midnight-blue dress that clings to all her sumptuous curves. I’m the envy of every straight guy in the room and a few of the women, too.

After a delicious meal of tasty fish, rice and vegetables, we sit through the comments offered by the Academy’s president as well as the producers of the show, who lecture us about keeping our acceptance speeches to forty-five seconds. I find that amusing. It takes months, sometimes years, to make a quality, award-worthy film, and winners are expected to boil down those years to forty-five seconds.

If I win, and I’m favored to after the run I’ve already had this award season, I suppose I can jam what I want to say into forty-five seconds.

I pose with the other nominees in this year’s class, and the picture probably starts hitting social media before we leave the room.

After the luncheon, Natalie and I return to a suite upstairs, where we’ll spend tonight after the Oscar Nominees Night party at Spago. I’m exhausted after the restless night without much sleep as well as the two glasses of Bowmore I had at the luncheon.

Natalie presents her back to me to unzip the dress. She’s got another dress, a black one this time, hanging in the closet for tonight. She made a joke on the way into town that God forbid she show her face in Hollywood wearing the same dress at two different events on the same day.

I kiss her shoulders and the side of her neck. “How’re you feeling?” I ask, really wanting to know if her period has arrived.

“I’ve still got cramps, but otherwise I’m fine. You?”

“Tired. I couldn’t sleep last night.”

“Do we have time for a nap?”

“You’re reading my mind, sweetheart.” While I remove my suit, she goes around closing the blinds. It occurs to me that every other woman I’ve ever dated would want to spend this afternoon by the pool, using me and my celebrity to see and be seen. Natalie is proving once again that she is exactly perfect for me—and with me for all the right reasons.

We remove the rest of our clothes and crawl into bed together, coming together in a tangle of arms and legs. Though I’ve yet to make love to my gorgeous bride today, the need for sleep is trumping my need for sex. “I love being naked in bed with you, even if all we’re doing is sleeping.”

“Mmm, me, too. Before I met you I didn’t like being naked in the shower,” she says with a laugh that makes me laugh, too. “Now I feel like I spend half my life naked.”

“Want to go for three-quarters?”

She kisses me and runs her fingers through my hair. “Get some sleep while you can. It’s going to be another late night.”

I close my eyes, breathing in the scent of my love, and fall asleep, thinking about the special surprise I have for her tonight.





I’m putting on the jewelry Flynn gave me before the Golden Globes when he comes into the bedroom carrying a small gift bag.

“For you.” He holds out the bag, which I eye with trepidation.

“That had better not be anything sparkly.”