“I do.”
“Thank you.” Pharrell’s eyes danced in excitement as he settled his gaze on her. “Tell you what. I’m putting the final
touches on your gourmet meal. I’ll pour you a glass of wine. You’re welcome to tour around until dinner is ready.”
“Sounds like a fabulous idea.”
Pharrell headed to the kitchen and Savvy heard the uncorking of a bottle. He returned to the living room and handed her one of two goblets he held. “Here’s to a wonderful evening of excellent food and two gorgeous people.” They raised their glasses in a toast before taking a sip.
“The wine is delicious.” Savvy gazed around the living room. “You have quite the eye for decorations.”
“Thank you. I pride myself on picking out the finest Italian leather furniture. I had this house built from the ground up with my design.” Pharrell extended his arms in a sweeping way as if referring to paradise. “You’re welcome to go anywhere except for the kitchen. I want you to be surprised by the dinner I’ve prepared. Make yourself at home and I’ll find you when it’s time to eat.”
“Well, thank you for letting me be nosey.”
Pharrell made his way back into the kitchen. Two photos, in 20x20 frames, caught her eye. They hung on each side of a curio case, which held collectibles from what appeared to be his world travel.
In one picture, Pharrell wore a white, long-sleeved collared shirt, a canary yellow sweater vest, khaki pants, golf shoes, and a sun visor. He posed with a driving iron resting on his shoulder as if he’d hit a hole in one.
The other picture, also of Pharrell, showed him posing in front of a cherry red convertible sports car with one knee on the ground and his elbow resting on the thigh of his other leg. He held his chin with his thumb and knuckle of his forefinger.
Pharrell called out from the kitchen. “Everything okay with
your tour? Do you need any more wine?”
“All is well. I still have half a glass left,” Savvy yelled back.
“Go check out my office in the west wing. I’m sure you’ll enjoy seeing how I’ve decorated in there,” Pharrell suggested.
“Okay. Will do.” Savvy glanced around. She picked a direction she assumed led to the west wing. She admired his collection of statues and swords in glass display cases. Her heels echoed in the house above the jazz piping through surround sound speakers in every room.
She arrived at the entrance to the office and widened her eyes in astonishment. Every statue, bowl, desk, chair, bookcase, and artifacts were white. A collection of poster-sized photos in white frames covered the white walls.
To Savvy’s surprise, the posters consisted of the progression of Pharrell’s growth from him as a baby through his adult years. There were not any other people in the pictures. Only Pharrell. Savvy’s mouth gaped as she turned around in the room with the eyes from each picture staring at her. The room was a shrine of himself.
“I see you found my office and are admiring my pictures.” Pharrell’s deep voice boomed behind her.
Savvy clutched her necklace and jumped. She almost sloshed the wine from the glass. “Oh. I didn’t know you were standing there.”
“You appear to be in a trance. I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.” Pharrell admired the pictures with a smile. “I should’ve been on baby food jars. You must admit, my pictures are adorable.”
“Um. Yeah. Quite a collection.” Savvy gulped wine to fill in for a loss of words.
“Well, dinner is ready. Let’s head to the dining room. Are you hungry?”
“Starving. I can’t wait to eat.” Savvy rubbed her stomach. “By the way, where’s your bathroom. I’d like to wash my hands?”
“Here. I’ll escort you.” Pharrell led the way around a corner and extended his arm in front of the bathroom. “Here you are, my dear.”
“Thank you.” Savvy turned on the light and sure enough, the rugs, towels, and shower curtain were all white in a room big enough to be a master bathroom. She passed through another door to get to the toilet and wasn’t surprised it sparkled clean without any other colors.
As she sat on the commode, she raised her eyes to the front wall and almost fell off the toilet. A life-sized poster of Pharrell in a skin-tight American flag Speedo stuck out in front of her face. He stood with his hands on his hips, gazing to the side as if he were oblivious to the presence of a camera.
Savvy leaned forward to examine the photo closer and observed all his blessed goodies bulging in his swim briefs. She turned her head to the side to get a better view of the interesting use of the American flag in 3D.
Pharrell knocked before his muffled voice spoke through the door. “Are you okay in there? I don’t want your dinner to get cold.”
“I’m fine. Sorry to keep you waiting.” Savvy flushed the toilet and fixed her clothes. After washing her hands and drying them on a plush white towel on the countertop, she opened the door and stood face to face with Pharrell. His expression showed a hint of amusement.
“I figured you fell in.” He laughed in a hearty way, which she enjoyed the first night they met. For some reason, it didn’t have the same effect on her now.
“I’m sorry.” Savvy paused. “I’m surprised about your picture by the toilet.”
“It’s one of my favorite ones. I see why it took you a minute to come out,” Pharrell chuckled.
Savvy shook her head without a response.
Pharrell led Savvy to the dining room. She’d stayed away from it as she toured the home to avoid being too close to the kitchen. A portrait on the wall of Pharrell sitting on the beach watching sailboats on the ocean with a sunset offered no surprise. Savvy couldn’t stomach seeing another picture of him. The image she had of him before seeing the Pharrell
