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If I was KaPOW, he sounded like KaCHING! I’m no gold digger, at least I don’t think I am. I’ve never been in a position to be with someone with money but this guy had one of those golf-ball-hitting, bridge-playing, sail-boat-whatever-you-do-on-a-sail-boat(ing) kind of names.
“The third?”
He shook his head. “Kidding. I’m a first.”
Damn, maybe he doesn’t have money.
“Good,” I said. “I like having the original.”
He smiled. I took his hand and we went to his car.
Turns out Braden Cransten the first did have some money. Rich? Maybe not but he drove a new Dodge Charger and that was all right by me. We weren’t in the car more than a few minutes before the flirting was underway, and I know what you’re thinking, but I swear I didn’t start it.
Here’s what happened. He was driving, both hands on the wheel, eyes on the road, some kind of singer/songwriter music on the radio. I think it might've been James Morrison. Very soulful stuff.
He glanced over at me, just out of the corner of his eye, but I saw it. I noticed. He did it again.
I looked down and saw that my black dress had crept up a little and my leg was showing. He looked at it again. I pulled my dress down a little.
“Why’d you do that?” he asked.
“What?”
“Why’d you fix your dress? I was enjoying the view. Your legs are gorgeous.”
I bit my bottom lip. Something in his voice was teasing. You know how sometimes you’re not sure if someone likes you, but then other times you just know? He liked me. I could tell. This wasn’t just some sort of ruse.
“Thanks,” I said awkwardly.
That might’ve been a childish response. I guess I should’ve said something like, “Let me wrap them around you.”
Ha, can you imagine?
I could never. I don’t even think it would sound sexy if I tried. It probably would’ve accidentally come out sounding like, “Let you wrap me around them.”
He looked at me again. I wanted him to keep his eyes on the road but the way he kept undressing me with his eyes was turning me on. The next time he looked, I reached down and pulled my dress up to where it had been before. He saw me, so I pulled it up just slightly further.
It had begun.
“What do you do for a living?” he asked.
I considered lying but it wasn’t like he couldn’t find out.
“I sell ad space, you know the ad space you see on the outside wall at baseball games and stuff? That. At the Penrose Stadium.”
“So you’re around athletes all the time,” he said.
“Not really, mostly little league games are played there.”
I’d forgotten he was from out of town. Anyone living in town knew the Penrose Stadium was not the coolest arena in town. Susie had the same job but she did it at the hockey arena where the real studs were.
“And you?”
He laughed. “You really wanna know?”
“I think so. You’re not like an assassin or something are you?”
“You like movies don’t you?”
