“Omigod! It’s Gerry Butler!”
“What?! Where!”
“Right there across the street.” Heather almost squealed her whisper. God, Karen could be so blind!
“Are you sure? I don’t see him.”
“He just went inside the Zoo. We have to go there. Right. Now.”
“Okay, okay, keep your dress on.”
Heather gave Karen a deadpan look that left the answer to that statement questionable and steered them both across the cobblestone street and into the line queing out the dance club.
“Dammit, there’s a cover charge. Do you think we could flirt our way in?”
Karen took a look at the bouncer. “I dunno…he seems a little limp to me.”
Heather rolled her eyes. “Let me see.” She sent out her gay-dar and came back empty. “Nah, look at the way he’s ogling the stripper up there.”
“That could easily be a transvestite.”
“Would you lighten up? We came to this town to have some fun, a hot actor is just waiting inside to discover us, and you look positively mahvelous, dahlink!” Heather gave her best Billy Crystal impression a push since it usually got Karen to laugh. It worked.
“Okay, I’ll start the chat and you turn up the charm.”
“Eee! Great. You’re the best, K.”
“Would you stop jumping up and down? We’re almost to the front of the line.”
And then they were.
“How much is it to get in?”
“Ten dollahs.”
Karen rustled around in her purse until Heather bounced up. “No. Freakin’. Way. Charlie?!?”
“Yeah…”
“It’s me, it’s Heather! We were in 10th grade Geometry together. I let you cheat off my final.”
The dawn of recognition broke over his granite face. “Yeah, yeah, yeah!” He reached forward and grabbed her hands in both of his. “How you doin?”
“Great! Just great! We’re just visiting for a bit before heading back Monday.”
“C’mon through. On me.” He ushered them both through the turnstile, but kept hold of Heather’s hand. “You save a dance for me, okay?”
“Got it! I’d love to!”
“Why didn’t you tell me you knew him? I was afraid I’d have to pay for a second there.”
“I didn’t remember his face until I was right there and heard that accent. His family moved here in the 10th grade and he had kind of a hard time adjusting. I guess being nice does pay off.”
“Well, I don’t know about that. Seems like no good deed goes unpunished. You are stuck dancing with him later and he doesn’t look like the casual type now that I think about it.”
“Shut up. You’re too serious tonight. It’ll be fine. Plus, once we locate the Luscious Butler, who knows what wonders this night might bring?”
“God, Heather, it’s not like he’s gonna pick you up. He’s a moviestar for Pete’s sake. He could have any woman here.”
“So why wouldn’t he want me?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe it’s the fact that you’re plush and he seems to lean to svelte.”
“You have no faith in my charisma.”
“That’s not true.”
“It is. You didn’t even completely trust me to get us in for free.”
“I did too.”
“Did not! You just said you were afraid you’d have to pay.”
“I was exaggerating.”
“You were dead serious!”
“Just—let’s get a drink and shut up.”
“Fine by me. I’ll have a Tall Scot, Straight UP!”
“Oh God. She’ll have a scotch, neat, and I’ll have a white wine spritzer.”
“No no no no.”
“What?”
“You really need to rethink your choice of drink. Guys don’t want to talk to a woman who’s so…so…bleh with her drink.”
“Bleh?”
“Yes. Bleh.”
“Is this a new language? I’m not quite sure what the exact definition of ‘bleh’ is.”
“Bleh is when you don’t know what you’re doing, so you just do the bare minimum.”
“Is that right?”
“Erm… pretty much. Oh, thank you!” Heather took a sip of her scotch. “Yummy in my tummy! Woo!”
“What are you, auditioning for “Girls Gone Wild”?”
“Ha! Maybe ‘Girls Gone Wild for Gerry Butler’! Oh! There he is!”
“And what did I tell you? He’s surrounded by teensy tiny brunettes. If he fell over, he’d break three of them.”
“I know. He needs a woman more his size. Someone who can take all that hot Scottish ass.”
“Good God, why did I agree to this?”
“Because you’re my best friend and you only want what’s best for me. And that would be Gerry Butler.”
“You have no idea what you’re talking about. He’s probably nothing at all like what they show him to be on YouTube.”
“You can learn a lot from that website!”
“I still don’t think you’re gonna get within three feet of him. He’s at least that deep in teeny-boppers.”
“Exactly. He needs someone more…mature.”
“No! Heather! Wait!” Karen watched her friend navigate and gravitate towards the movie star. She’d better head to the bathroom and gang up on the tissues.
*
“Hi.”
“Hello.”
“I’m Heather.”
“Heather. I’m Gerry.” She shivered.
“Verrry pleased to meet you.” She held out her drink-free hand.
He shook it with a twinkle in his eye. “Come and have a dance.” Yay!
“…Yeahokay.” She giggled and downed her drink. “Woo!”
“Was that what I think it was?”
“Lovely, lovely scot—I mean scotch.”
“Do you down that much often, then?”
“Ha! Oh no! No, I just didn’t want to spill it dancing and I didn’t want to waste it.”
“Ah. No use wasting a good scot, then, eh?”
She laughed, deep and throaty. “My point exactly.”
She started to gyrate to the pounding music. He followed suit and placed his hand on her waist to bring them closer. She smiled and brushed her leg against his. “What brings you to –?”
“Just thought I’d try it out. Never been here before.”
“How do you like it so far?”
“I think it just got better.” He pulled her in closer with both hands. She wiggled and danced against him, bringing her arms around his neck. That was when she smelled him. It was some lovely, manly scent and it drove her crazy. She leaned in for a better whiff.
“Good. Night. You smell fantastic!” he laughed and she felt the scuff of his beard against her cheek. “You do. It’s like grass and soap and…and…something else really yummy.”
He laughed deeper. “Well, that’s just me, darlin’.”
His voice sent a sexually electric jolt through her body from her ears to her stomach. “Are you always this sexy?”
He laughed louder. “No. I’m sure I’m not sexy when I sneeze.”
“Ha! I bet you are. You’d get that look on your face like you’re about to explode and then you do and it’s totally mind blowing. It’s the closest thing a person can do to an orgasm in public and not be arrested.”
“You’re an odd bird. You think sneezing is sexy?”
“You’re an actor. What’s the look that comes over your face right before you…you know?”
He smiled wolfishly and backed her up against the mirrored wall nearby. “Like this.”
“…Okay, you can stop now. Stop? Please?”
“Why? You asked for it.”
“I know, but I’m proving a point here and I can’t follow through if you end up seducing me.”
“Okay, so what face would you like me to have?”
“Pretend you’re about to sneeze.”
He did, stopped, and looked at her incredulously. “My God. You’re right. Sneezing does look like you’re having sex.”
“So, you see, I’d think you were sexy if you sneezed.”
He barked out a laugh, but held her against the wall. “Next, you’re going to tell me other bodily functions are sexy.”
“No, that would be crass!”
They both laughed. “Why don’t you come over to my table and sit for a bit?”
“Sure, I’d love to.”
*
“So what do you do for a living, Heather?”
“Lahr….Um…I’m a Deterior Insigner—I mean Interior Designer.”
“Really, now? For homes or commercial…?”
“Residential. I’m working on my Masters in Interior Architecture so I can teach.”
“Design?”
“Mmhmm. I’ve always wanted to.”
“Always? Even when you were small?”
“Well, ever since I knew what it all was, yeah. Probably about seventh grade.”
“Hmm. So you’re artistic? Do you draw?”
“Yes. I could draw you, if you want.”
“What…right here? Now?”
“If you like.”
“I think I would.” They scrounge for drawing implements and she begins to draw.
“Just find a pose you’re comfortable in and relax. Good. So what do you like best about __, so far?”
“The people are great. Friendly. But then, I tend to see that side a lot.”
“I imagine so. Who’d want to be rude to you?”
“Yeah. It’s kind of annoying, really. You can’t get to know a person.”
“So what do you do?”
“To get to know someone?”
“Mmhmm.”
“You learn to look at their mannerisms. What they don’t say as much as what they do. How they treat others.”
“Go on.”
“For instance, you volunteering to draw me a portrait could easily be a ploy to stick around and heighten your chances for more interaction with me.”
“But?”
“But you honestly seem to enjoy the art.”
A smile twitched her lips. “The subject is quite fascinating.”
“Ah, now that’s fascinating.”
“What is?”
“Someone who is so obviously involved with what they’re doing who can hold their own in a conversation and come back with a double entendre so easily.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“What kind of car do you drive?”
“Beamer. Why?”
“Well, you talk of things that describe a person other than their façade…a man’s car says volumes about him.”
“Ha. All that crap about how a sportscar is an extension of something lacking?”
“Well, that depends on the sportscar. If you drove a new corvette, I’d say yes. Or maybe a Ferrari or even perhaps a Viper. But a BMW speaks of a bit more. It speaks of control, power, an appreciation for fine machinery…I’d think you’re also possibly an antique VW fan?”
“Now that’s interesting. I am. How did you guess that?”
“Well, if you know a bit about cars, then you can figure out which are similar. The first cars I mentioned are toys. A BMW or a Volkswagen, even a Porsche, is more…serious. Even the ones that look like toys.”
“What if I told you I didn’t choose the vehicle?”
“Do you like it? Do you feel comfortable driving it?”
“Yes.”
“Then it doesn’t matter.”
“Hmm.” Silence, then, “What do you drive?”
“Ah, now that’s an altogether different subject. What I drive may or may not be indicative of my personality.”
“How so?”
“I don’t have readily disposable income where I can have any car I want.”
“Ah. Well, then, what kind of car would you drive if you did?”
“A Porsche Cayman.”
“And why is that?”
“It’s pretty in Arctic Gray.”
He laughed out loud. “After the lecture you just gave me, I highly doubt that.”
She grinned.
“So, Gerry,” Her first use of his name out loud to him felt strange and she blushed. “What do you think?”
“You’re done?”
“Well, I wouldn’t say a bar napkin and a ball point pen is the greatest media to work with, but yes, I’m done.”
She held it out for him to see. He took it and stared at it. “It’s not what I expected.”
“What did you expect?”
“Something a little more…”
more what?!
“…elementary. This is fantastic. Can I keep this?”
She blushed again. “Oh, absolutely. Please. Just, let me sign it.”
“How about you add on some contact information as well?”
“Oh. Okay.”
_____________________________
Yeeeeah, I got a bit carried away with the fanfic here, but hey, I needed something to add to my Scottish category. :D
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