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“Neither,” I tell him. “It’s Arianne and Beckett. Please don’t mash-up our names.”
“Why not?” he asks. “I think #AriBeck has a nice ring to it. Very catchy.”
I don’t give a fuck what you think.
I just glare at him before moving my attention to my girlfriend.
“Come on, let’s keep walking,” I tell her, pulling her forward.
“Arianne, over here!” A striking black woman shouts. We stop right in front of her. With her statuesque height, it’s impossible to miss her. That said, her copper-red afro, fitted white mini dress, and thigh-high leather hot pink-heeled boots make her stand out even more.
“Those are Cedrics!” She points to my girl’s feet.
“Guilty as charged,” Arianne says. “Cedric de Seignard shoes are my weakness.”
“They’re from the new collection,” the black woman says. “I love them on you.”
“Thanks. I love them as well,” Arianne says.
“The question burning everyone’s tongue is… who are you wearing?” the reporter asks, giving my girl an appreciative onceover.
Arianne blurts out the name of the design-duo.
“You have great taste,” the woman says.
Arianne beams.
“I’m also a big fan,” the woman says. “I hunt down their designs at secondhand shops. I get my dresses chopped off really short to showcase my best assets.” She extends a leg to drive her point.
“You look amazing and confidence drips all over you,” Arianne tells her. “There’s no way I’d be able to get away with that. I’m not used to calling that much attention to myself.”
“Oh, honey, you think hanging from Beckett Christensen’s arm isn’t calling attention to you? If so, think again,” the woman says. Her eyes move to mine and she cocks an eyebrow.
I’m caught off guard by her boldness.
Reporters and bloggers laugh.
My girl’s face turns a bright shade of red.
“I don’t know how to respond to that,” Arianne says.
“I’m sure you already know, but it bears stating the obvious, you’re the envy of a lot of women in this country…” the striking beauty says, before shifting her eyes to me again, “present company very much included.”
She just goes for it.
“How did you lasso him in, Arianne? After all, many have tried, but so far, Mr. Christensen has always remained a free agent.” She’s right on the money. “What’s your secret, Arianne?”
My girlfriend doesn’t know what to do with herself.
She looks up at me for reinforcement.
“The t-shirt!” I say, coming to her rescue. “Definitely the t-shirt.” I nod. “Followed closely by her sultry salsa dance moves. I’m only a man. I couldn’t resist.”
Laughter explodes around us.
“Arianne and Beckett you look like a real power couple,” a redhead says from behind a camera before popping her head up.
“Thank you,” my girl says.
