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“What?”
She tugs at her lower lip with her thumb and forefinger. I barely swallow the urge to lick that lip, taste it for myself.
“Well, you do a lot of stunts. And I know you said you do many on your own, but people don’t know that. They’ll assume you have a stunt double, and those always have to resemble the actors, right?”
“That’s never occurred to me,” I say, surprised not only by her creativity but by the simple fact that she worried enough on my behalf to think up a story.
She draws her eyebrows together in concentration. “Or we could say you’ve applied to be your own double. No idea if it’ll work, but it’s worth giving it a shot.”
“Definitely.”
“Ready for the tour?” she asks in a serious voice. “You’ve got your own personal guide too, Mr. Superhero.”
I’m used to people seeing my on-screen persona in real life, and it doesn’t bother me... usually.
“I’d rather be just Alex tonight. With you.”
Her eyes widen a little, but she nods, and I know she understands what I need. The night air is cool and misty, perfect for a walk. Five minutes into this, I realize it will take us the entire night to pass the three objectives on our list. Summer walks at a snail’s pace.
“Hey, slow down. Where are you hurrying to?” she asks.
“Nowhere. This is... my pace.”
She scrunches her nose, narrowing her eyes as if she’s making a plan.
“Right. When’s the last time you went out and about for no reason at all?”
I search my memory. “I went fishing with my nephew today. Before that... I don’t remember. Maybe three years ago?”
She claps her hands. “You’re out of practice. Step one to enjoying a walk: move sloooow.”
“What’s step two?”
“I haven’t thought so far in advance. We’ll see. Just enjoy the city. It’s your city now too. Feel it a bit.” She spreads her arms around her, closing her eyes and inhaling deeply. The
urge to kiss her hits me squarely in the chest.
She slips into guide mode next, and she’s excellent at it. I admit, I’m only half listening. I’m consumed by her. It’s been a while since I’ve seen someone lose themselves in an activity so completely, live it so fully. She peeks at me from time to time, once even pointing her finger sternly.
“I can tell you’re not listening. Don’t be an ass. I’ll quiz you at the end.”
“What’s my punishment if I fail the quiz? You’ll make me write lines, sit in a corner?”
“You wish. I’m much more inventive,” she retorts with cheek. “And cruel.”
Even though the air is crisp for mid-June, as we walk along the shore, I start feeling warm. So does Summer, because we push down the zipper of our jackets at the same time. She’s wearing a dark blue sweater under it, with a diamond cutout over her chest. Only the top of her cleavage shows, but it’s enough to spark my imagination, to make me wonder how she tastes there, how she’d react if I licked between her breasts, teased her nipples.
“Tell me about your job,” I say. “How did you get into the art world?”
“I’ve always had an artistic streak. In my first years of college, I tried my hand at acting, but it wasn’t really my thing. Then I started painting.”
“You still paint?”
“Just as a hobby, for my friends and family. I wanted to do it full-time when I started out, but it’s a bit of a lonely job, and as you can see, I talk. A lot. I’m a sociable person. I need to meet new people. Then I worked at a museum in Rome for a few years. They had a program for young artists, and I also had to do guide groups on the side. I liked it a lot, so now it’s part of my job at the gallery.”
Enthusiasm pours off her in waves, and I can definitely not imagine her cooped up alone, painting all day.
“We’re almost at PIER 39, that’s why it’s getting so crowded,” she informs me. “It’s even worse during the day.”
