Someone Exactly Like Me by Debbie Cromack

7

Nicco

I wasn’t sure she’d say yes, but I knew I had to at least ask her to get together. This morning when I found her pages, I only read the first few paragraphs to see what it was and my curiosity about her was piqued. Reading the sensual scene was a massive turn on.

During the lighting check shoot, I had to stifle my arousal. I loved watching her body respond to my touch. I’m dying to know if I’m who she was writing about.

She writes with an intimacy I’ve long-since denied myself. It took all my willpower to not read more. She hadn’t given me permission and I wanted to honor that so I stopped once I knew what they were. But, damn do I want to read more from her. Fuck, I want to act out the scenes with her.

But it’s not just the physical attraction, I feel that with lots of women. There’s something I can’t quite pinpoint about Destiny, but it’s tugging at me, making me want to know more.

I put the address she texted into my app to see how long it’ll take to get there. Grabbing her pages, I head out early to make sure I’m on time.

I arrive ten minutes early and text her.

Me:I’m early. I’ll go in and get us a table.

My phone chimes immediately.

Destiny:I’m inside. When you come in, turn right and walk to the end of the aisle.

Wow, she’s really early. With her pages securely in my hand, I enter the restaurant. The homey smell of pasta surrounds me, intensifying how hungry I am. The ambiance is rich with Italian flare. Brick archways, greenery draping down from the ceiling and crawling up walls, and ornate chandeliers providing the subtle glow of romantic lighting. I turn right and walk down the aisle. Sunlight streams through the window, casting a glow on Destiny’s light hair and fair skin.

She sees me and waves. When I reach her, I lean down to kiss her on both cheeks. I love the way she smells faintly of vanilla. Today she’s dressed more how I would expect from getting to know a little about her last night. A feminine flowery top and jeans suit her personality.

“Hello,” I say, sitting down and tucking my legs under the white linen tablecloth. “It’s good to see you again. Thank you for meeting me for lunch.” I hand over her pages. “Here are your pages that were in the back of my car.”

Her cheeks flush. “Yes, it’s nice to see you,” she says, taking her pages from me. “Thank you for returning these. I was freaking out wondering what happened to them.” She chuckles nervously.

“They were in safe hands.” I assure her.

She glances at her pages and curls her hands in toward her chest, her shoulders slightly hunched. “Did you,” she hesitates, “read them?” Wincing anticipation sits in her eyes as her eyebrows lift.

“No. I only read the first few paragraphs to see what it was. When I read it, I figured out they were your pages you told me about so I stopped. You said you didn’t want me to read them. I’m waiting to read Sunflowers for Sarah.”

“Oh.” She looks blankly at me.

“Were you expecting me to say that I read them?”

“Actually, I was.” She briefly casts her eyes down and back up.

“That’s because you don’t know me yet. You asked me not to and I fully respect that.”

“Thank you for respecting my wishes.” Her shoulders release, her features soften, and she tucks her pages into her purse.

“I’ll always respect your wishes.” I smile. “Would you like some wine?”

“Yes, that would be nice. I confess I don’t know much about wine though.”

“I do.” I look through the menu, pleased by the selection.

The waiter comes over, places a basket of bread and a dish of seasoned olive oil on our table, and pours water into my glass from the bottle on the table. “Welcome. Can I get you both something to drink?”

“Yes, please. One moment.” I shift my attention to Destiny. “Red or white?”

“A red would be nice.”

I look back up at the waiter. “Two glasses of Sella and Mosca Tanca Farra, please.”

“Coming right up, sir.” He turns on his heels and walks away.

“It smells so good in here. I’m hungry.” I touch my stomach and her gaze follows my hand.

She smiles and looks back at my face. “I hope you like their food. It’s one of the best Italian restaurants in the area.”

“They have a great menu. Lots of options.” I peruse the menu. “Do you know what you want?”

“Yes, I was here early and looked over the menu.”

“Yes, you were early. I thought I was early, but you beat me.”

She chuckles. “Yeah, sometimes the traffic is awful so I usually plan to arrive early because I’d much rather be early than keep anyone waiting.”

The waiter returns with our wine and we place our orders.

Picking up my glass by the stem, I hold it between my thumb, forefinger, and middle finger, and raise it toward her. “Salute.”

She raises hers toward me. “Cheers.”

We both take a sip.

“Your mom is amazing, by the way.” I shake my head in disbelief.

“That she is.” Pride gleams in her smile. “How did your call go?”

“Incredible. She didn’t just give me contact information, she set up appointments for me.”

“That’s fantastic.” She clasps her hands together. “Who did she get you in with?”

“I have appointments on Monday with James Tank at William Morris and then I see Mick Stevenson at Creative Artists. Then on Wednesday, I meet with Vance Langerfeld at United Talent Agency.”

Pride washes her face again as she nods. “She’s got you in with top-notch people. You’re very lucky.”

“Lucky? I’m grateful. This is so much more than I expected. And it’s all because of you.”

Her eyes gaze down as she shakes her head slightly. “No. I just put you in touch with the person who can help make your dreams come true.”

“Right. You did that. And you didn’t have to.”

“Yes, I did.” She tilts her head to the side. “We made a deal. I’m happy I could get the ball rolling for you. Now you just have to show up, be your amazing self, and secure representation here. My guess is, you’ll have your pick.”

“Thank you. That means a lot.” Hmm, that’s quite a statement.

“You’re very talented, Nicco.”

Now the pride is mine. “Thank you.” I sip my wine. “I always like to know from people who’ve seen the movie, what their favorite scene was. Will you tell me what yours was?”

Her chest visibly rises and falls. “I know many women like the sex scenes so you’re probably expecting that.”

That is the answer I get about ninety-nine percent of the time. She whets my curiosity. “Not you?” I can’t stop my brain from flashing a quick vision of her naked in my bed.

“They were very sexy.” Her impassive expression is a stark contrast to the pink filling her cheeks. I smile inside as I shift in my seat, trying to deflate the hard-on growing in my pants. “But my favorite scene was when your character asks Lena to teach him how to be gentle. There’s a vulnerability you masterfully bring forth in the character during that scene that humanizes him. Your portrayal of his desire to be something more, something deeper than the monster, the sexual god alpha-male he showed to the world was what drew me into the character.”

Her words humble me, flowing into me and speaking to my heart. If you only knew.

“Thank you for sharing that with me.” I clear my throat. “So, did you have a good birthday?”

“I did. Thank you again for everything. Honestly, that was unexpected and so generous of you.”

“Good. I’m glad you enjoyed yourself. How are you feeling today?”

She lets out a laugh and bugs out her eyes slightly. “Well, I don’t drink very much and definitely had quite a bit to drink last night. This morning was tough. But, I’m feeling better now.”

“You have to be careful when you go to those places and have a little too much to drink. You put yourself in a scary situation.”

“Last night was unusual. I rarely go out to places like that. And when I do, I’m usually the designated driver and don’t even drink.” She drops her chin toward her chest, her gaze follows. Then she looks back up. “Thank you again for being in the right place at the right time and stepping in.”

“Of course. I was watching for you.”

“You were?” Her brows pinch together.

“Yes, I was.” I lift the white linen napkin that’s keeping the bread warm and cut off a piece. “Would you like some?” I hold the piece toward her.

“Yes, please.”

Handing her the bread, I cut off another piece, dip it in the oil, and take a bite. “Mmm, this focaccia is excellent. And the wine is very good also.”

“I thought you might like it here.” She smiles sweetly.

“I do. It has a nice atmosphere.” I gesture my hand in the air. “All the details are just so. The decorating, the music, the candlelight, the flowers.” I point to the small arrangement of burgundy hypericum, purple peonies, and red roses. Being a gardener for so many years, I learned a great deal about flowers and these are perfectly arranged. I take a sip of wine. “So, I’m here for a couple weeks on vacation and I want to learn the area. But I don’t want to waste time. I’d like to hire you to show me around. That is if you have time in your schedule. I don’t want to interfere with your writing. What do you think?”

Her eyes shift slowly from side to side. Then she tilts her head slightly and her right eye squints. “You want me to be your tour guide?” The pitch of her voice raises as though I’ve asked something crazy.

“Yes,” I say flatly. “I know this will take away time from your writing so I’m willing to pay you for your time. I already know you could use the money.”

“Wait. You want to pay me to show you around town for a few days?”

“Yes. You live here so you know your way around, you know good places to go. You can give me recommendations for when I live here someday. And I want to pay you for your time and knowledge. This will also give you research material for your book. It’ll be more than a few days. Again, if you have the time.”

She takes a slow sip of her wine. As she puts down her glass, her lips twist to the side. “I’m happy to show you around, but you don’t need to pay me.”

I suspected she’d refuse payment. “Then no. I’ll just use Google.”

My response elicits a chuckle from her. “Nicco, you can’t just use Google. That would be a waste of time for sure.”

“Well, you seem determined to refuse to help me.”

“No, no. I will help you. You just don’t need to pay me.”

“Then forget it. I won’t accept your help if you won’t let me pay you.” She’s fiercely independent which I like, but it’s also frustrating.

She sighs. “You’re kind of stubborn, you know?” Her lips lift into a provocative smile.

“Me? I’m stubborn? Look who’s talking.” I chuckle and nod at her. “I want what I want and I do what I need to do to get it.”

One last contemplation as she purses her lips together. “Okay, I’ll show you around. And I’ll accept payment for my time, a hundred dollars.” She reaches her small hand across the table.

I don’t agree to the hundred dollars, but reach out and take her soft hand in mine, shaking it.

“When do you want to start and what kinds of places do you want to know about?”

The thought of spending time with her over the next couple weeks fills me with a pleasure I haven’t felt in ages — excitement. I’m looking forward to learning about her. It’s been a long time since I’ve cared to learn more about a woman.

“Let’s start tomorrow. Monday and Wednesday are no good because of my meetings. I want to know great places to eat, where to go for fun, and good beaches.”

“Okay.” She nods. “I’ve got some ideas already. I can make up a list for you too so you’ll remember them once you’re here permanently.”

“That would be great. Thank you.”

Our meals arrive and she begins telling me about some of the restaurants in the area. She may not be Italian, but she’s very animated with her hands as she speaks. She’s adorable.

We finish our lunch and make arrangements to visit the Griffith Observatory the next day.

“It’s the best place to see the Hollywood sign. Have you seen it before?”

“I have, but only from far away. I’ve been here twice, both times for business so I’m in and out pretty fast.”

“Are you up for a hike? I can take your picture with the sign behind you. We can’t go right to it, but we can get close enough for a good picture.”

“Okay, I’d like that.”

“Did you bring comfortable shoes, like sneakers.”

“No, but I can get some today.”

“Okay, I suggest sneakers, shorts, and a T-shirt.”

“Got it.” I nod.

The waiter brings our bill, I pay, and we leave together. I’m dying for a cigarette.

I kiss her on each soft cheek, taking one last whiff of her before she leaves. I like the way her skin feels under my lips. I like being close to her. I should’ve said I wanted to start our touring today.

“Ciao, mia dolce ragazza.”

“Goodbye. Thank you for lunch. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I eagerly await tomorrow.

Destiny

The second I’m in my car, I grab my pages out of my purse. I have no idea what I even wrote on the first page. God, I hope he couldn’t tell from what I wrote that it was him I was writing about. How do I know he didn’t read them all? Sure, he said he didn’t, but he could be lying. They way he’s perfected being expressionless, I couldn’t tell. Please. Please, please, please let me not have written anything identifying.

I open the pages and start reading.

I slowly slide my hand from his hard chest down to his abs, letting my fingers dip between each ripple as I go. Moving my hand lower, I trace his treasure trail with my finger, down to the top of his jeans. Exploring. Indulging. Thirsting.

Adrenaline zips through me. Oh God. I cringe and skip a few lines.

He curls his long tongue into my mouth, swirling, dancing, provoking.

I force down a thick swallow as my heart thumps in my chest and I try to slow my breathing. Okay, there wasn’t oil on my hands here so really, it could be any man. My stomach sinks at the unknown. Did he read them? Did he tell me the truth? Ugh.