“He was obviously checking me out. I didn’t smile because if I had, I was sure to start giggling.”

Part 3 - Hollywood

Chapter 14 - Burger

The burger shop on the corner was a Fatburger, an L.A. Chain that served enormous burgers by default but you could get a more reasonably-sized one. I definitely did not want to try to eat a half-pound burger while wearing a corset.

And I was still wearing the corset, though I hardly noticed it any more. “Huh,” I said out loud. Marjorie had been right about that.

I walked across the parking lot to the entrance. Someone in an SUV, one of several in the drive-thru lane, made a noise and I turned to look. The sound had been the passenger side window going down and now a twenty-something guy who looked like Jesse Pinkman’s cousin watched me, smiling. He pushed his baseball cap back a bit when he saw me glance toward him.

I looked away quickly. He was obviously checking me out. I didn’t smile because if I had, I was sure to start giggling. Why did I want to smile?

I reached the door to the place and someone inside opened it for me, holding it open and standing mostly out of the way. “Thank you,” I murmured as I edged past him, trying not to touch his big belly.

“Yeah,” he drawled. He was an older guy, black, with a receding hairline in some half-hearted cornrows and he must have been nearly a foot taller than me. After holding the door until I was completely inside, he let go and left with his food in two huge bags.

The dining area was crowded, every table had at least one person sitting there, three people were in line to order and two more were standing around waiting for their food to come up. I got in line behind an enormous guy wearing ripped jeans and a black t-shirt.

I was still smiling and everyone I looked at smiled back at me. It should have embarrassed me but it didn’t. It scared me a little. I was standing there, everyone thought I was a girl, and I was happy to let them think so.

The guy in line in front of me turned around and I startled. It was Rory Beeson. He’d been an all-sports star at school when I had been a freshman. He smiled down at me because he was at least a foot taller. “Hey,” he said.

“Hey?” I whispered. Why did I make it a question? Rory had wide shoulders, arms thick with muscle, and a huge face hanging over me surrounded with a mane of golden hair. His eyes were blue and his lashes so thick they looked furry. I felt like something had melted inside. That’s why I made it a question, as in what the heck?

He smiled at me and that broke through the euphoria of looking at him for a moment. I smiled back, I couldn’t help that but the thought had penetrated my brain. I felt my nipples crinkle up. I was attracted to this guy—to a boy.

Well, a man.

He was saying something. “This is taking too long. Wanna go down the street and get Thai food in a restaurant where we can at least sit down while we wait?”

“Uh?” Was he asking me out? It sounded like it. “I’m not—I just—uh? Did you just ask me out?” I squeaked out that last bit.

He grinned. “I guess I did. And before I even found out your name.” He stuck out his hand. “I’m Rory Beeson and you’re…?”

“K-kissy Davis,” I said. I put my hand in his but he didn’t shake it, in fact, he just engulfed it in both of his.

He loomed over me, grinning. “Thai food? Or if you prefer, there’s Butonnari’s Pizza across the street?”

“Pizza sounds good,” I heard myself say.

And that quick, we were on our way out of Fatburger, my right hand tucked into his left. He steered us through the door and out to a fairly new pickup truck, a big, jacked-up, four-door Toyota, parked near the Vermont corner of the lot. “What do you like on your pizza, Kissy?” He asked as he helped me climb into the giant truck.

“Almost anything—no anchovies, onions, bell peppers or pineapple,” I said, and he laughed as he boosted me inside. I got settled, glad I wasn’t wearing my short skirt. It would have been impossible not to have flashed him. I pulled my phone out while he dashed around the front of the pick-up.

As he climbed in the driver’s side, he asked, “Calling someone?”

“Just leaving a message for my mom,” I said, which was what I was doing, actually. “Gaming,” I sent. “Out late. Don’t call, text if you need to talk.” I put the phone back in my purse. That was pretty standard for Thursday gaming nights but Mom liked to hear from me. And for some reason, I wanted Rory to see me using my phone.

He was buckling his seatbelt so I put mine on too. “Aren’t we —uh— just driving across the street?” I asked as he got the truck moving.

“I know a better place to get pizza,” he said as he made the funny turn from the parking lot that put us on Hollywood headed west. “Do you live with your folks? Around here?”

“Uh-huh, just my mom,” I said. “So what have you been doing since high school, Rory?” I smiled at him.

“Hah?” He peered at me from under his shaggy blond brows. “Did you go to Marshall?”

He obviously wouldn’t have remembered Davey Kissee and he’d never even met Kissy Davis. “I did. I was in the frosh when you were tearing it up as All-City baseball champs. Did you make it to the pros?”

He shook his head and grinned. “I guess the answer is, not yet. I took a scholarship to UCLA and we just missed going to the College World Series.”

“Wow,” I said. The inside of the cab of the truck felt steamy. I put a hand on my chipmunk charm, wondering if my corset was interfering with my breathing again.

“Yeah, I’m playing in the California Summer League, starting this week. Pitching for the Torrance Titans. We’ve got games Friday, Saturday and Sunday, down in Newport.”

“Tomorrow? I’m—that’s—good for you, Rory!” California Summer League was one of the premier off-season leagues for college athletes. I was kind of vague on the details, not being a jock myself.

“Uh-huh,” he said. He kept glancing sideways at me, making me nervous. Was this a date? Was I going on a date with a guy? He took his right hand off the wheel and put it on the console between us. I didn’t want to stare at it like a snake, but it made me nervous. I looked around to see we were passing through Thai Town. The smells might have told me as much.

“Not much pizza here,” I commented.

He laughed. “Well, you didn’t want Thai.” That hand moved again, landing on my thigh, giving me a squeeze and moving away again. Something flashed through me. It might have been fear.

“I like your perfume,” he commented. “Is it Mille Fleurs?”

I pictured the bottle in my mind. “Mille et Un Fleurs,” I said. “The sequel.”

He laughed more than that deserved as we passed under the Hollywood Freeway. The next street was Gower which reminded me.

“I saw Armand Gower today, old classmate of yours?”

He seemed startled. “Yeah, good old Armand, year after me. Big guy, but not athletic. A little odd. Where did you see him?”

“Melrose,” I said casually. “Kicking around, shopping with my girlfriend. He got in my way cause he thought he knew me.”

“Thought he knew you? Armand never forgets, I don’t think he can. We used to call him Packy for pachyderm.” He laughed. “That’s a kind of elephant, so it was appropriate two ways. I heard they tried to recruit him for the Skunk Works but he wants to do science instead of engineering.” Being a nerd myself, I knew that the Skunk Works was an aerospace research group.

He shook his head, continuing. “If he thinks he remembers you, he probably does. Might take him a while to sort out the referent. Did you know he got his Bachelors at the same time he graduated high school? Brilliant kid but he might drown in a rainstorm by looking up without an umbrella.”

Huh? I didn’t understand that. I pictured Armand looking up. If he saw something interesting, his mouth would be open. Okay, I got it, and I got the giggles. “That’s kind of a mean thing to say,” I told Rory.

“But funny,” he said, grinning at me.

We passed through the touristy part of what might be called downtown Hollywood, traffic was slow here. Professional cosplayers dressed as characters from movies posed with tourist for snaps and a few bucks. Sometimes they got in fights, Superman dissing on Mary Poppins, or Shrek giving Charlie Chaplin a wedgie. It made the local news sometimes.

We turned south for a few blocks on a street I didn’t know and Rory pulled the truck into an underground lot. “Uh, this is a hotel?” I said. A hotel? What was he planning? Yikes! I’d gotten into his truck and just let him take me somewhere? I’m an idiot, I thought. Just cause I used to know who he was in high school.

Rory parked on the second level. “2D43,” the parking space, he said as he shut down the engine. Then to me, “Restaurant is on the roof. But your face,” he laughed. He got out of the truck and came around to my side. I had the door open and my seatbelt off. “What did you think, Babe?” he asked, still grinning.

“I didn’t know what to think,” I admitted. Especially about him calling me Babe. He held his arms up and I put my hands on his shoulders as he lifted me by the waist and put me down on the floor. No struggle, he just did it and it seemed natural. I felt tiny, like a little kid next to him. Babe….

He laughed. “Relax, this is my uncle Jake’s restaurant and my grandfather owns the hotel.”

I looked up at him. “Is that supposed to make me feel more safe, or less?” I asked.

“Hungry, I hope,” he said. He put a hand in the small of my back and directed us toward an elevator. This was an old building and the tiny elevator complained as it carried us up two floors where it stopped and two more people got on. I was right up against Rory, under his arm and he caught my left hand with his while I had my right arm around his waist.

Cozy. What the heck am I doing? I wondered.

A little green card on the wall of the elevator read Tetto di Giacomo, and below that, Cucina Italiana. The other people got off on the fourth floor and we went all the way up the sixth. “This isn’t a pizza restaurant,” I said as we stepped into a rather dim lobby decorated with old woods and stone floors.

“I never said it was, Babe, I said they had good pizza.” Rory motioned to a waiter, “Dominick, a quiet table outside?” We followed the waiter through an arch to the roof of the hotel with a dozen or more tables, each of which was covered in checkered oilcloth with lit candles in centerpieces.

One direction, we had a view of the Hollywood sign on the hills above and the other way, across downtown LA lay Chavez Ravine where the Dodgers would be playing in an hour or so. And to the west, the sun was settling into red and gold and purple clouds.

I’m on a date with a boy, and he’s taken me to the most romantic restaurant I’ve ever seen, I thought.