The man who had never, not once, patronized or degraded my thoughts, opinions, dreams or crazy whims. The only man that made me feel worthy and loved. The only person I could be myself with and not feel guilty about it. The man I loved more than anyone else.
We were in the backseat of some car that I didn’t know how I got in, or how long it’d been roaming the streets of L.A., and he hadn’t said a word since we left. He just stared back at me. Waiting.
I glanced at the paper bag in my hand with no recollection of how it wound up there. “Did I have a panic attack?”
“Yes,” he answered.
I took a long breath. “You don’t happen to have a party going at your place now, do ya?”
He shook his head.
“Too bad.” I bowed my head, self-loathing spreading through my heart and mind. “I could really use a joint right now. Not a good time to stay sober.”
“How about a party for two then?”
You and me. Alone. Getting wasted. Danger. Catastrophe. “Sounds good.”
He leaned forward, holding the back of the driver’s seat. “Jason, take us to Bel Air, please.”
“Yes, Mr. Gennaro.”
“Your house?” I inquired. “Why not the AKA?”
His jaw flexed. “We kinda ran awaytogetherin front of a hundred people after you turned down your boyfriend’s marriage proposal. I’m guessing there will be paps at the AKA.”
My head spun. “Oh my God… Fuck… I’m so sorry, Mike.”
“Hey.” He held my hand. “I don’t care about any of this shit.”
My free hand checked my phone. “Oh God. Forty-seven messages. You?”
He got his phone out of his pocket to check. “Um…fifty-two.”
“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK.”
He squeezed my hand, laughing. “C’mon. It’s gonna be fine.”
“How? Everything is ruined. I ruined everything. Now they’re gonna say I’m the girl you’re…”
“In love with?” He finished my words. “And you finally left your boyfriend for me?”
“Mike, please. This is a disaster. How’s that not bothering you?”
“What kinda man would be bothered if you left your boyfriend for him?”
“For fuck’s sake, this isn’t a joke. They’re gonna say I did it for the movies.”
He stared at me for a moment. “That’s what you care about?”
“Yes!” I looked down.It’s the only part that’s not true.
The car turned and slowed down. Mike glanced at the window. “We’re here.” The window rolled down a little, and he showed his face to the gateway security and collected a key. Jason pulled over at the mansion front entrance, and opened the door for Mike, who offered me his hand, and I took it.
“I haven’t come here in a very long time.” Mike turned the key in. “More than two years.” He placed his hand on the small of my back and let me inside.
As he turned on the lights, I noticed nothing had changed since the last timeIwas here. Cream porcelain tiles. Double height ceilings. Floor-to-ceiling windows. Enormous staircase.Open living and dining rooms dressed in well-matched shades of brown and blue.
“Four years for me. I came to see Uncle Frank after he got sick.” My hands wrapped around his arm. “He was a wonderful man, your father. So kind and funny. I’m so sorry he passed.”
