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Avi is still looking at me, silently.
Michael takes his belongings, including a small gym bag, out of the trunk, puts on his sunglasses and lowers the visor on his hat in attempt to hide his too-perfect face.
“C’mon, I’m ready,” he calls to me.
“See you later, then,” I smile at Avi.
“Whatever,” he replies, reaching out his hand to me. “Anyway, it’s been super nice meeting you, and who knows? Maybe we’ll see each other again.”
“Maybe, it was really nice to meet you too.”
He gives Michael a hug. “Have fun,” he adds, gets into his luxurious car and drives away.
“You’re really serious about this, aren’t you?”
I look at Michael with a smile that reveals the fact that I haven’t yet understood why he was making an effort for me.
“C’mon, let’s go to the mall first,” he replies and places his hand on my shoulder as we walk together.
“Why?” I ask.
He strokes my smooth black hair and the feeling I get is like a naughty little girl being placated. A chill runs through me, from the crown of my head directly and sharply to my stomach, accompanied by feelings of nervousness and excitement and I wonder, ‘What’s happening to me? I feel awful!’ All at once, I’m reminded of the feeling I get before having an anxiety attack, fearing that this might ruin our plans.
“You’ve already agreed to go on an overseas two-day yacht voyage with a guy you don’t really know, aside from movies and magazines, so I think you can show a tiny bit more patience.” He smiles broadly.
“Alright,” I reply, hoping he doesn’t think me stupid or overly needy.
At the entrance to the mall, the security guard checks my purse. Michael places his hand at my back, lightly, allowing me to go in ahead of him, a gesture that embodies patience, tenderness, and kindness. Heaps of kindness.
“Which store are we going to?” I ask, looking from side to side.
“Let’s get a few things here. Bathing suits, beachwear, something light, perhaps a few personal items like a toothbrush and stuff like that.”
“Oh! I can’t believe it! How come I didn’t think of that?” I ask, utterly embarrassed. “What exactly did I think I was going to wear for the next couple of days?”
Michael smiles happily. He tugs at my hand and we both quickly vanish into the swimsuit store.
“But let’s make it quick, ok?” He examines his surroundings and adds, “and let’s have as little contact as possible. I’m not in the mood to race back to the yacht to escape a band of hormonal groupies.”
I nod and focus on the task ahead. I choose two bathing suits for myself, one is a gorgeous white bikini, and the other is black. A few shorts and t-shirts, tank tops and, of course, a change of underwear. I also add to the pile of items growing higher a pair of flip flops, a pair of sandals, a large beach bag to contain everything and also a smaller bag for my personal items.
I hurry as much as I can and, even though the swimsuit store isn’t particularly busy and he’s trying his best to lay low, he’s still approached by a group of jittery girls who recognize him and ask for his autograph. He complies with automatic professionalism and even has his picture taken with them as he conjures up a feigned smile that he has reserved especially for these situations. Even the cashier excitedly abandons her post, has her picture taken with him, and tags him on social media.
Who would have thought? Michael Jones in a women’s lingerie store.
That must surely increase their sales, the thought amuses me.
There. I’m done. I signal to him, and he approaches me.
As I stand in line at the cash register, awaiting my turn, he leans over my shoulder and whispers in my ear: “You know money’s not an issue for me.”
“I can imagine,” I reply, stroking my newfound goodies. “But it isn’t for me, either.” I’ll never again forfeit my pride for any man, rich or incredible as he may be. “I mean, it’s only a couple hundred,” I stress. “Thanks, anyway,” I smile.
Michael pins me to him with a smile. “Gosh Sam, you really are a unique woman.”
“Thank you, I guess,” I reply and am filled with confidence. It’s about time I cut myself some slack after what I’ve been through. Shopping has always made me feel better.
We leave together as Michael carries the shopping bags.
