Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 88742 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 444(@200wpm)___ 355(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88742 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 444(@200wpm)___ 355(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
“You want to jump on into my car, pretty lady?” I smile because he’s being such a cornball, but I like it at the same time. And it’s a good look on him. Everything is a good look on him.
“I just might…if that’s what you want.”
“Step back a little,” he motions with his hand. I follow the request, walking a few feet away from the car. I see Brick press a button, and the door opens all on its own. Of course he has one of those fancy new models. “Step in your carriage for the evening, mademoiselle.”
I shake my head at all of the fanfare but get into the car nonetheless. I realize we may have loitered a little too long around the neighborhood when Brick zooms away, but I’m sure no one saw us. It’s dark, and we weren’t under a streetlight.
“I told you where we’re going is about an hour away, right?”
“Yeah,” I nod, “you told me.” That means we’re going to be in the car with one another for a while. I guess this time could make or break us, depending on whether or not we can keep up a conversation for that long.
“So, Tammy, where were you all those years I didn’t see you?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, I remember a little rugged girl with skinned knees and messy hair, but then she wasn’t there for a few years, and suddenly, she was replaced by a grown-up version.”
“You remember me from all those years ago?” I never even thought he knew who I was. I mean, he obviously knew my name and my dad when he walked in on me, which was surprising enough. But it seems like he recalls a lot more than even that.
“I remember you staring at me all the time. At first, I thought I had something on my face every time I saw you, but then I realized what was really going on.”
“Oh no,” I whine, wanting to cover my face but afraid to ruin my makeup. “You saw that.”
“It was a little hard to miss. You barely even tried to hide your obvious admiration of me.”
“Okay, hold the phone,” I laugh. “I wouldn’t call it admiration. I thought you were cute, okay. That’s it. I was a teenage girl with a little crush.” Brick feigns a hurt expression, making me giggle even more.
“That’s all I am to you? A piece of meat to look at? A view?”
“Well, tell me what else there is to like. I barely even know you.” I’ve been thinking about how Brick and I only know the smallest details about one another. Most of the things I do know about him are because my dad has worked for his studio for so long, not because of anything Brick has told me himself. And I’m sure he knows even less about me.
“What do you want to know?”
“I guess, for starters, what’s your middle name?” I irrationally fixated on that when I first got together with Brick. I don’t know why – it’s such an innocuous detail – but I want to know.
“My middle name? Hm. Okay, I can tell you that. My middle name is Thomas.”
Thomas? That’s so plain. With a name like Brick, I thought he would have an equally unique middle name.
“You thought it was going to be something more exciting, huh?”
“No, it’s not that,” I shake my head. I don’t want him to think I disapprove of his name.
“I get it. Brick is my first name, something you don’t hear often, but then Thomas is such an everyday moniker. My mother named me after her father. I never met him, but she was always talking about him.”
“That’s nice, to be named after someone. What did she say about him?”
“He liked movies. The two of them would go to the movies together once a week, every Sunday. She did the same thing with me. I think that’s why I wanted to get into the moviemaking business. My mother had a hard life, but those two hours or so we spent at the theater once a week? She always smiled then.”
Oh my goodness. That’s too sweet. I never knew that’s why Brick got into the production industry. This story gives me a whole new perspective on him. He’s actually a pretty sweet guy.
“What about you? Why do you love flowers so much?”
“Oh, it’s nothing as inspiring as why you love movies.”
“I’d still like to know.” He glances over at me, willing me to tell him, so I decide to.
“I just loved colorful things as a child. I would pick all of the flowers I could and stuff them into my room, but I’d hide them from my parents because I knew they didn’t like me picking up things outside and bringing them inside. My mom ended up finding my horde one day. A lot of the flowers had died because they were cramped in dark places. After a long conversation on not hiding stuff in my room, my parents thought it would be a good idea to sign me up for horticulture classes. I got to learn all about different plants, and eventually, I got a B.S. in Botany.”