“Marry me.”
“What?” I gasp, sitting up. “You have got to be kidding.”
Astounded, I double-blink and look at Harry wide-eyed. He looks serious. Actually fucking serious.
“You are kidding, right?”
Harry looks deep in thought, and I start to get worried. And nervous. And excited. But also confused.
A waiter walks over, breaking the crazy moment. Harry then cuts him off and explains we won’t have cheeses. He then asks for the bill. The moment is gone for now, and my mind churns a million miles an hour.
Harry’s wealthy neighbor passes, and they talk quickly. Three minutes later, he leaves, and we have somehow moved on.
Somehow, we end up discussing the planned NYC trip.
And we agree that we will leave early in a few days. That we will also take the old Jaguar sports car.
We also agree that while Harry attends his boring signing, plus banking and legal meetings, I would attend art galleries in NYC.
Even though I’ve been to NYC, I’ve not been to many of their art galleries.
“So,” Harry says, wrapping up our plans and clapping his hands in front of the fire. “You have fun while I work to keep bread on the table and keep us off the streets.”
I laugh as I stand and tickle him. Harry yanks me in close, and it feels nice. I’m wearing my denim mini, one of his thick, old jerseys, and a scarf. I snuggle in, and I feelsafe. Protected and loved.
After ups and downs over the last few years in LA, with the scary ex and wobbly restaurants I worked at, I finally start to feelcontent and calm.
As we enter the estate,we decide to see Tusk, Harry’s darling tiger. I watch Harry play with him, and I get jealous from behind the fence. After a while, and when Harry isn’t watching, I sneak closer.
I then slip in the self-closing secure door.
As I creep around and behind a big tree, I watch them play. I beam as they do; it’s gorgeous and pure. Relaxing, I start to let my guard down.
If Tusk is like that with some him, he must be like that with everyone. As I hide behind the tree, I smile and giggle.
I think I have fair handle on big cats, but I do not know that tigers have some kind of survival radar instinct. I also don’t know just how fast tigers can move.
As Tusk plays around Harry, he leaps onto a huge old log that is on its side. Simply as a playground obstacle. Tusk then runs along it ultra-fast.
Leaping high and far, he lands in the grass.
There is now only one thing, Tusk is between Harry and me, and Tusk is between me and the door.
I freeze, as I realize...I’m trapped.
Harry’s voice cuts through the silence, and it is calm, loud, and clear. “Samantha!”
I cannot move, say, or do anything.
The huge tiger watches me, and its killer eyes are terrifying. It then drops its head low, walks forwards and growls. The growl is loud, deep, and primal.
“Don’t look afraid, whatever you do.”
I cannot talk, I cannot think, and I am about to pee in my pants. Forcing myself to breathe again, I inhale.
I then try to do the unthinkable. I try to cleanse my terrified energy and trust.I kneel. Then, as if the tiger is a big dog, I do the 'come to me' finger move.
The huge predator moves, and my heart pounds like a hugebeating drum in the jungle. The tiger walks towards me, and it growls loudly again. It is feet away now, and I cannot breathe.
