Born Too Late [Elvis Presley]

Chapter 17: The Date: Part 2

Penny Jones

Mick and I sit in the back of the black limousine parked outside of my favourite pizza place. I lean forward, looking past Mick and out the window at our security guard. He stands in the pizza place behind the counter in his all black suit, ordering our pizzas for us.

Mick originally took me to a French restaurant, and I assume he did so because my mother was French. It's very thoughtful of him, but while I was half way through my food, Mick's plate was still full. He tried to pretend he liked it, but I could tell he wasn't actually enjoying it, so I told him we'd go to my favourite pizza place. He's never been to Memphis before so he hasn't tried it.

I sit back in my seat, "we could've gone in there and ordered our own pizzas," I say. "Security are so uptight."

"Yeah, I know," Mick agrees.

And then, it's almost like a light bulb turns on above my head. I turn to Mick with a smile, "I have an idea."

"Uh-oh," he says sarcastically.

"Have you ever been to Club Handy?" Mick shakes his head.

"What's that?" Mick asks, clearly confused.

I breathe out a laugh through my nose. I forgot this is Mick's first time in Memphis. "Lets go."

Mick's eyebrows knit together ever so slightly and he glances at the security guard in the pizza place. "But he'll-"

"We'll do a runner," I interrupt him.

A smile grows on Mick's face and he lets out a breath. "Okay." I smile and turn to open my door. "Sam?" Mick calls on the driver.

"Yes, sir," he says, looking back at Mick over his shoulder. Sam glances at me and does a double take when I step out of the vehicle. "Hey, where are you g-"

"Tell Pedro I'm sorry!" Mick calls over his shoulder, referring to the security guard. He rushes out of the limousine and we run down the street side by side, as fast as we can. I laugh. It's moments like these where I feel most alive - and when I'm with Elvis. I can't wait to go home to him.

Mick and I run all the way to the end of the street until we turn a corner, and we finally stop running to catch our breath. Mick leans back against the wall behind him, closing his eyes and tilting his head back as he tries to catch his breath, panting like a dog. "Jesus, woman," he smiles through heavy breaths. "Is that a regular thing for you?"

I shake my head. "Nope," I smile, "maybe it should be, though." Mick shakes his head, breathing out a laugh. I smile, catching my breath. "Come on," I say, beginning to walk down the street. "It's this way."

Mick smiles and we make our way down the street side by side, and I notice him looking at me from the corner of my eye. "Have you been writing anything recently?" he asks.

I smile, "a few things."

Mick nods, smiling softly. "What about?" he asks. I know him well enough to know that he isn't prying, he's genuinely interested. But I'm not going to tell him I've been writing songs about Elvis.

I shrug, "the usual stuff, you know?" I lie. "What about you?" I ask, shifting the subject from me, to him.

"No, actually. I, uh-" Mick's gaze drops down to the ground for a couple of seconds. "I don't know what it is, but I just haven't been able to write recently. It's like my mind just goes blank."