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Days pass and we’re in the house, we rarely leave the bed.
She calls her father and tells him she’s with me, and I check in with my family.
It’s been days since I did anything called work and in the time I do work it’s just to answer a few emails here and there. I don’t venture to The Dark Odyssey either. I’m too wrapped up and loved up with my doll to do anything that’s not related to her.
The only break of sorts I have from the bubble we’ve created is my calls to Sherine. I check in on her to see what’s going on with Tommy. I promised to visit on Saturday.
It’s Thursday now and I’m giving myself until Saturday to change things up. Whatever that means.
It’s a plan of a sketchy variety.
I only know the first part and it’s what I’m thinking about now as we sit in the bath tub together.
I must look like some kind of king, smoking my cigar with my doll sitting between my legs resting against my chest. I have my cigar in one hand and my other arm wrapped around her.
We’ve been in here for over an hour. The water was hot, now it’s cold.
We talked about Italy then silence took over and the question of what next hung in the air.
She starts working for Peter this week and my what next involves that. I just don’t know how to tell her.
Mia shuffles against me and rests her head back on my chest. The dampness from her hair tickles my skin. I take a draw on the cigar and blow it out. She hums as I do and uses her finger to make a ring around the smoke.
“What are you thinking baby?” I ask. My voice pierces the silence.
“I’m thinking… I’ve …been here for over a week. I should go home, but I don’t want to go.”
I plant a kiss on her head. I don’t want her to go either. “You don’t want to go?” I ask playfully
“I don’t. I’m looking at us and I don’t want to leave.”
Across from us is a floor to ceiling mirror that captures the image of us. It looks scandalous and forbidden. I look like a dark haired demon, with the goddess in my arms.
“We look like a classic Hollywood picture.” She giggles. “Something cool and sexy. I feel like Marilyn Monroe.”
I chuckle, it’s so different to what I thought. “Angel doll, don’t you dare compare me to JFK. I’m not presidential material.”
She lifts her head and shakes it. “No, you’re Clint Eastwood or James Dean. Or, Al Pacino.”
“Now we’re talking.”
She holds my gaze and I think of that fairy like presence she has again. I could get lost in her beauty. The beauty inside and out.
“What are you thinking Nick?”
I continue to watch her in the mirror and decide to go through the door that question just opened for me.
Time for action.
“I’m thinking I love that you’re working for Peter and it’s where you need to be. I’m thinking I like the idea of you being here far too much, and it fits that you don’t want to leave me. I don’t want you to leave either. I want you to be my girl. I’m thinking I don’t want you working at The Dark Odyssey anymore. If we go there its’ for fun, nothing more, nothing less.”
There… I said it.
That’s what’s on my mind. And… she looks exactly like how I imagined. Except maybe a little more shocked.
“I …”
“What?”
