Monday morning, my boss, Sue, walks into my office with a copy of the paper in her hand. She sets it down on my desk.
“So, this is the mystery man?” she asks, pointing to the paper.
“Yes, that’s him,” I reply, smiling down at the picture of Vin kissing me.
Settling in a chair, she comments “You know, I was a little worried about you going on a trip with someone you had known for only a few weeks, but after seeing this yesterday, I realized that I had worried for nothing. But I’ll let you in on a little secret. I’m jealous as hell of you right now. And I’m not the only one. I’ve heard comments as people pass my office.”
“I knew things were going to be different after I saw the picture last night. I’m not going to say that I’m sorry, because I’m not. I never expected anything to come after the weekend in New Orleans. It surprised the hell out of me when he said he wanted to see me again. This trip has shown me a side of him that not very many people know about. I’m not going to throw that out the window just because some people can’t handle the fact that we might actually have feelings for each other.”
“Don’t worry what other people say or think.”
“I won’t. But I don’t want there to be problems here at the office.”
Getting up from the chair, adding, “Don’t worry. Things will die down and get back to normal before you know it.”
“I hope so.”
Surprisingly, the day went by without much said about the picture in the paper. A few nasty looks and comments here and there, but hey, that’s to be expected. I called Jennifer and gave her the update.
Driving home, I debated on whether or not I should tell Vin what had happened, and decided that he’d probably get a kick out of it. I opened the door to the apartment to find Vin sitting on the couch working on his laptop.
I walked over and dropped a kiss on his bald head. “Hey. How was your meeting today?”
He looked up and grinned. “Pretty good. How was your day?”
“I wish you could have been a fly on the wall,” I replied, then sat down beside him and filled him in on what had happened, leaving out the conversation with my boss.
He started laughing. “How did you handle it?”
“I ignored them. The way I look at it, they are just jealous, petty women. If they aren’t happy, then they don’t want anybody else happy. And Heaven forbid if a lesser creature than themselves finds someone that make’s them happy.”
Vin grabbed on to that. “Do I?” he asked.
“Do you what?”
“Make you happy?” He did nothing to mask the concern on his face.
I hesitated, trying to find the right words without giving too much away. “Who wouldn’t be if they were in my shoes?”
“You’re not answering my question, Gwen. Do I make you happy?”
Leaning my head back against the couch, I took a deep breath. “More than you know. When we’re together, you make me feel like I’m the only person in the world. When we’re apart, I can’t wait to see you again. You took me to your home in Colorado and you’re staying with me this week. If that’s what you consider happy, then I guess that’s what I am.”
“Now, see. That wasn’t so hard, was it?” he said, leaning over to give me a kiss.
Time to change the subject. “What do you want for dinner?” I ask, getting up off of the couch.
“I was thinking Italian. I was in the kitchen earlier and saw your stash of take-out menus. Do you ever cook?”
“Not very often. I’m usually at work until 6 or so, and by the time I fight the traffic coming home, I’m too tired to cook. I usually just eat a salad for dinner, then spend the rest of the evening either working, reading, or writing. Since you’re going to be here all week, I’ll go to the store later and get some things so we can stay in and cook.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
We drove to one of my favorite Italian restaurants, where the wait was going to be about 30 minutes for a table. But when the hostess saw Vin, she ushered us right in. He pulled my chair out and waited until I was seated before taking his own seat. The look on her face was pure jealousy. Oh well, I’m used to it now. The waiter came and took our order, and dinner was served a short time after that. It was delicious.
While we were eating, he commented, “You mentioned earlier that you write. I didn’t know that.”
“Not many people do. It’s just something I do in my spare time, when I have it.”
“What do you write?”
“Fiction and romance.”
“Can I take a look at some of it?”
“Why? It’s just a hobby.”
“Just humor me.”
“Oh, alright. Now my turn. I know it’s probably none of my business, but what are these meetings about?”
“My production company is looking into filming one of my movies in the area. We’ve been meeting with the location scouts, looking at different places that would work for different parts of the movie.”
“You know, I hadn’t really thought about that part of your life, the writing and producing. Which do you like more?”
“Each has it’s own rewards. For me to star in a movie, I have to believe in the story. If I do that, then the character that I play will be someone that everyone can relate to. If I don’t believe in it, I don’t do it. When I write and produce, I have control of everything. I write about things that I know. I have all of these ideas running around in my head and when I put them on paper, I know exactly how I want the scene shot, what I want the end result to be.”
“That has to be a heady feeling, seeing your own ideas come to life.”
“It is.”
We finished dinner and then went to the grocery store. While Vin was driving, I made a list of things to get. Vin stayed in the truck while I went in and bought the groceries. When we got back home, we put up the groceries and I went into the bedroom to change, hoping that Vin would forget about reading my stories. Unfortunately, that didn’t work.
“So?” he asks as I walk back into the living room.
“So what?”
“Where are your stories?”
Walking over to my desk, I flip through the disk holder and find the one with the stories on it.
Handing it to Vin, I say, “Just remember, this is a hobby.””
He takes the disk and pops it into his laptop, pulling up one of the stories.
