Mom bombarded me questions about the premiere night. She asked how was it being Dad's company but I kept convincing myself maybe she just want to suck up details about Dad mainly and not about how the night went. She just doesn't want to show it.
I decided against telling her about my encounter with Mr. McLerroy. Sometimes, she doesn't have a say on my Dad's opinion about me doing acting but I could swear she is purely against to what her husband did to me last night. No mother would be fine with her daughter being humiliated in front of someone.
By her husband.
I've been avoiding their fights. I hate every single quarelling of them so it would be purely crazy if I am the one to cause it.
Mom had a meeting about her upcoming project. She was hands on to this one. Being it her comeback movie after a decade under Universal Studios. Dad also had to fly back to San Francisco to attend some emergency board meeting. They left together first thing in the morning, the reason why I'll be having my breakfast alone.
I love pancakes, I say to myself when I entered one of the best breakfast inn here in Los Angeles.
I take the seat far from the window. A little privacy with my breakfast would be pleasing. After digging furiously into my luscious pile and pile of pancakes with overflowing maple syrup on top and my favourite Cappuccino coffee, I let my eyes wander around. There's just some couples having romantic eggs and pancakes, I'm the only one who's eating with my own company.
Sweet.
Is there a sign outside saying sad single ladies are not allowed to enter? How come I've not read it on my way inside?
Sad?
A memory comes back. Those beautiful grey eyes. Staring at me.
But the thing that catches my eyes is the lovely couple in the middle of the room with their child. I am in awe of how they treat each other. They're like highschool lovers who can't stop clutching each other's hand.
The man could be on his late thirties. The lady with her seems older than him but she can't be 30! She's pretty but from where I'm sitting, and with that shades resting above her nose, I can't really tell. The familiarity of the woman is there but I don't remember where or when the two of us met.
Well, she's very lucky to have this... gifted guy. When I say gifted, physically gifted! He's too attractive having those pair of beautiful eyes even if I really can't tell if it really is given by the fact that a rayban shades is blocking his eyes, slightly pink lips, perfect nose and he has the complexion I want my man to have. His body! Oh yes! The way his biceps flex through that thin fabric of clothe he's wearing, his overall built just makes me take a long noisy sip on my coffee. I feel the warm drink flow down through my throat. I can't fathom why I haven't tasted the coffee, probably because I was too busy drinking something . . . someone else in.
An uneasy feeling surfaces in me.
And finally it dawns to my senses that... he is... Fuck! The man—stranger—who was all responsible for my panties falling. Clearly still capable for my panties falling.
Great description, Haltson. My inner subconscious snickers at me. But I can tell she's very pleased to have this moment.
How come I've never realized it is him?
He is laughing at how the little boy playfully dribbles the ball. A small smile tugs on my lips. He looks so young when he's laughing. I'm pleased. Later, he loses attention of his child. I take my eyes of them for a while glancing at my phone. Caught staring would be more humiliating than moaning. Staring is a lie. Slobbering would suit the occasion.
