Virtuous(19)

“No. You surprised me.”

“I’m two for two on the surprise front.”

“What I don’t understand…” She shakes her head as if she’s reconsidering what she’d planned to say.

“What don’t you understand, Natalie?” I’m desperate to know, but I keep my expression neutral, hoping she’ll tell me without me having to beg her.

“I… I said I won’t sleep with you.”

“And?”

“And nothing. Why do you want to take me away for the weekend when you know nothing will happen?”

“How can you say nothing will happen? I’ll get to spend three whole days with you. I’ll have the chance to introduce you to my family and show you the house where I grew up as well as my home in LA. I’ll get to take you to one of the most exciting events of the year in Hollywood. I’ll see your eyes light up with delight every time you meet someone you’ve admired from afar for years. I’ll have you by my side to talk to when the show gets long and boring, which it always does. Maybe you’ll hold my hand when my category is announced? And afterward, I’ll have the most beautiful date at all the parties. How can you call that nothing?”

After a long pause, she says, “Why me?”

“Why not you? I like you, Natalie. I like being with you and talking to you. I’m not asking for anything other than the pleasure of your company for three days, during which you’ll have your own room with a lock on the door to keep me out. And I fully intend to see you as often as you’ll allow me to before we go anywhere together. I asked you now because tomorrow is the last day I can request an additional seat at the awards ceremony, and because I need some time to make arrangements.”

“Oh. I see.”

“What do you see?”

“You aren’t rushing things between us. You’re being practical.”

“Yes,” I say, once again dazzled and amused, “I suppose I am.”

“So if I ask for some time to think about it, you won’t be able to get an extra seat.”

“Right. And if I ask for an extra seat and then you tell me you can’t make it, I’ll look like a loser who couldn’t get a date on national television when the seat next to me is empty. You wouldn’t want that for me, would you?”

“You’re making that up! You could get a date in two seconds flat if I can’t go.”

“It’s you or no one. I’m not going to ask anyone else.”

“This is a lot of pressure for a first date.”

“I know, and I’m sorry about that. I really am.”

“Somehow I don’t think you’re sorry at all.”

I laugh again. I’ve laughed more with her in the little time I’ve spent with her than I did in the first month with the last woman I dated, a model obsessed with her looks and her weight and her work. I lasted six weeks with her before I ended it. Unfortunately, it took a restraining order to make her go away. I shake off those unpleasant thoughts to concentrate on the lovely Natalie.

“How do you feel about dessert?” I ask her.

“Generally or specifically?”

“Both.”

“In general, I’m a big fan of dessert, but I have rules.”

“Oh do tell.”

“First of all, there must not be fruit or vegetables of any kind involved.”

“That excludes the entire carrot cake family of desserts as well as strawberry shortcake, a personal favorite.”

“Carrot cake is disgusting. Carrots have no business in cake. However, I will make an occasional exception for strawberry shortcake, as long as it’s covered in whipped cream.”

The thought of Natalie and whipped cream does crazy things to my raging libido. Figures I’m wildly attracted to a woman for the first time in longer than I can remember, and she’s already let me know there’s no chance of sex. I’m fairly confident I could convince her to change her mind. I’m almost certain I could. But I won’t. I’d rather know why a sweet, gorgeous woman would make such rigid rules for herself. There has to be a reason, and I want to know what it is. Of course it could be a religious thing, but I sense it’s more complicated than that.

“Earth to Flynn.”

Her comment draws me out of my thoughts. “Sorry.”

“Where’d you go?”