“You don’t,” I said. “I could be a figment of your imagination.”
He turned around swiftly, and for a second I felt his eyes on me. I dropped the phone, picked it up, clicked it off, and handed it back to Maxi, all in one motion that I would like to think was smooth, but probably wasn’t.
Instantly, the phone started ringing. Maxi flipped it open. “Hello?”
I could hear Adrian’s voice. “Figment? Figment, is that you?”
“Hold, please,” Maxi said crisply, and handed the phone back to me. I slipped back behind my pillar.
“Star 69 is the bane of human existence in the nineties,” I began. “Whatever happened to anonymity?”
“Anonymity,” he repeated slowly, as if it was the first time he’d said the word.
“Just think,” I continued, “of the generations of pubescent boys who are never going to be able to make hang-up calls to the girls they’ve got crushes on. Think of how they’ll be stunted.”
“You’re funny,” he said.
“It’s a defense mechanism,” I replied.
“So can I see you?”
I held the phone as tightly as I could and didn’t answer.
“I’m going to keep calling until you let me see you.”
“Why?” I asked.
“Because you sound very nice. Can’t I buy you a drink?”
“I don’t drink,” I said.
“Don’t you ever get thirsty?” he asked, and I laughed in spite of myself.
“Let me see you,” he said.
I sighed, straightened my tunic, cast a quick glance around to make sure Bettina Vance was elsewhere, then walked up behind him and tapped him on his shoulder. “Hey,” I said, hoping that he’d get the full impact of my hair and makeup before getting to my belly. “Hi.”
He turned, slowly. In person, he was adorable. Taller than I’d imagined, and so cute, so sweet looking. And drunk. Very, very drunk.
He smiled at me. I picked up my phone. He grabbed my wrist. “No,” he said, “face-to-face.”
I turned the telephone off.
He was so handsome up close. On the screen he looked cute, not gorgeous, but in the flesh he was amazing, with beautiful brown eyes, and…
“You’re pregnant,” he blurted.
Okay, not precisely a news flash, but it was something.
“Yeah,” I said. “I’m pregnant. I’m Cannie.”
“Cannie,” he repeated. “Where’s your, um…” And he waved one arm in the air in a vague way that I took to mean “baby’s father.”
“I’m here by myself,” I said, deciding to let it go at that.“Actually, I’m here with Maxi Ryder.”
“I’m here alone,” he said, as if he hadn’t heard me. “I’m always alone.”
“Now, I know that isn’t true,” I said. “I happen to be aware that you are dating a German medical student named Inga.”
“Greta,” he murmured. “We broke up. You’ve got some memory.”
I shrugged and tried to look modest. “I’m a fan,” I said. I was trying to figure out whether it would be completely tacky to ask for his autograph, when Adrian grabbed my hand.
“I have an idea,” he said. “Do you want to go outside?”
“Outside?” Did I want to go outside with Adrian Stadt? Did the Pope wear a big hat? I nodded so hard I was worried I’d give myself whiplash, and darted off into the halter-topped, miniskirted masses in search of Maxi. I located her at last in the crush by the bar. “Listen,” I said, “I’m going outside with Adrian Stadt for a minute.”
“Oh, you are, are you?” she said archly.
“It’s not like that.”
“Oh, no?”
“He seems kind of… lonely.”
“Hmph. Well, remember, he is an actor.” She thought about it. “Well, actually, a comedian who makes movies.”
“We’re just going for a walk,” I said, feeling desperate not to upset or offend her, but even more desperate to get back to Adrian.
“Whatever,” she said airily. She scribbled her number on a napkin and held out her hand for the cell phone. “Give me a call from wherever you are.”
I handed her the phone, tucked the number into my purse, and rolled my eyes. “Oh, right. I’ll be off seducing him. It’ll be very romantic. We’ll be snuggling on the couch, and I’ll kiss him, and he’ll tell me he adores me, and then my unborn child will kick him in the ribs.”
Maxi stopped looking sulky.
“And then I’ll film the whole thing, and sell the rights to Fox, and they’ll turn it into a special. World’s Kinkiest Threesomes.”
Maxi laughed. “Okay. Just be careful.”
I kissed her on the cheek and, unbelievably, found that Adrian Stadt was still waiting. I smiled at him, and he led me to the elevator, down and out the door, where we found ourselves standing in front of what looked like a highway. No benches, no grass, not even a lowly bus shelter, or a sidewalk to stroll on.
“Huh,” I said.
Adrian, meanwhile, was looking even more tipsy than he had in the Star Bar. The fresh air didn’t seem to be having the sobering effect I was hoping for. He grabbed at my hand, managing to get my wrist instead, and pulled me close to him… well, as close as my belly would allow.
“Kiss me,” he said, and I laughed out loud at the absurdity of it. Kiss me! Like a line from a movie! I was looking over his shoulder for the inevitable bright lights and milling extras and director ready to yell “Cut!” when Adrian took his thumb and traced it along my cheek, then down over my lips. It was a move that I was pretty sure I’d seen him perform on screen, but I found that I didn’t much care. “Cannie,” he whispered. Just hearing him say my name was making me throb in places I hadn’t expected to feel anything until the baby came. “Kiss me.” He brought his lips down to mine, and I tilted my face up, and my body away, as his hand curved behind my neck and held my head like it was something precious. Oh, so sweet a kiss, I thought, and then his lips were back on mine, harder, his hand more insistent, as the traf-fic rushed by us and I felt myself melting, forgetting my resolve, my history, my name.
“Come with me,” he offered, raining kisses on my cheeks, my lips, my eyelids.
“I’m staying at a hotel…,” I murmured weakly, realizing as soon as the words were out of my mouth that it sounded like the cheapest come-on ever. And what was going on here, anyhow? Could he really be that lonely? Did he have a thing for pregnant women? Was this perhaps his idea of a joke? “Do you want to maybe…” I tried to think quickly. If I were in Philadelphia, if I were standing on a street being groped by the ultimate object of my desire who was very very drunk, what would I suggest? But, of course, I couldn’t think of a thing. Nothing in my life had even come close. “Go to a bar?” I finally offered. “A diner, maybe?”
Adrian reached into his pocket and produced what I figured must be a
