Page 55 of False Promises

Savannah’s gaze drifted outside. Fat clouds hung in the sky, but the sun’s rays were piercing the dense cover. Her face wrinkled. “Isn’t it too cold and dark to spend the day outdoors?”

I shrugged. “If it rains, we’ll do something else. The sun is trying to shine; give it a chance.”

We sat side by side at the kitchen island, and I placed a plate of food in front of each of us, a cup of coffee with two creams before Savannah, and organic green tea in front of me.

I moaned as the spicy flavors of the vegan breakfast burrito coated my tongue. The leftover salsa I made from scratch last night got my tastebuds dancing in food orgasm.

“You’re not eating?” I asked my girlfriend as she brought the steamy beverage to her lips.

“Nah, I think I’ll have oatmeal. Or a power juice later.”

I studied her. “Be honest with me.”

“Trying to lower my carbs intake.” She shook her head when I gave her a dubious glance.

“Come on, don’t partake in this starving Hollywood game. You’re better than that.”

“But—”

I moved to stand, swiveled her stool, and wrapped my arms around her. She glanced down, avoiding my gaze. My fingers tipped her head up until she stared at me. “No but. You’re perfect just the way you are. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. Never. You hear me? I’ll fight anyone who plays mind games with your appearance.”

She nodded.

“Is this about Priscilla and the other girl on set?”

She shook her head.

My heart sank. “Don’t let their judgments get to you. And your own insecurities fuck with your brain. I think you’re beautiful.”

Her eyes rounded. “You do?”

I kissed the crown of her head. “Yep. Now eat your breakfast, then we’ll get ready. I wanna spend the day together. No phone, no distraction. Just us. What do you say?”

“Fine.” She nibbled on her burrito. “It’s good. Like really good.”

I returned her smile. “It’s my special ingredient.” I flashed her a proud smile.

Savannah cocked a brow. “What is it?”

“Ah, you’ll need to kiss me later, and maybe I’ll tell you.” I winked and circled the island to attack the dirty dishes.

Much later, stretched on a blanket on the almost deserted beach, Savannah and I exchanged stories about our lives. I told her about the time my brother and I kept the garage door open one night on purpose, hoping the skunk living underneath it would find refuge in there and we could adopt it as a pet. Little did we know our trick would work, but the skunk had actually given birth to kits, and they had sprayed the entire place after my mother closed the door the next morning without checking that we had visitors. When we returned from school, thanks to the heat wave, the smell had marinated all day, and my dad had to renovate the entire place to get rid of the putrid odor.

“Oh, this is absolutely disgusting.” Savannah wiped the tears that had gathered in the corners of her eyes with her fingertips. “I would have bulldozed this thing down. Oh god, the smell…” She shivered at the thought.

“Yep, it was disgusting.” I joined in her laughter. “What about you? Any childhood stories worth laughing about?”

“Nah. I was pretty shy growing up. My parents got divorced when I was ten, I think. The memory is a bit blurry. I was an only child, so I had no one to team up with to drive my parents nuts.”

“I’m sure Jeff’s and my stories can make up for the lack of yours.”

We stayed silent as we watched the waves breaking in the distance and half a dozen surfers catching them.

I glanced up. The clouds were still heavy in the sky, but I didn’t think it would rain. “Wanna be my tour guide to the Santa Monica pier? I’ve never been there. And when I was a kid, I always wanted to go.”

Savannah’s eyes grew big. “You’ve never been?”

I shook my head. “Nah. Guess I was waiting for the right person to go with.”