Perfect Day.

Saturday, March 23, 2019 9:27am PT

I walked from the rental agency bus out into the parking lot. My name was on a board with a parking spot number next to it. Sure enough there along the fence, parked in the corresponding spot, was a blue Mustang convertible.

I’d never driven a Mustang before. Renting one was part of this weekend fantasy of mine. I had a new pair of Ray-Ban aviators and some new clothes (thanks to my wardrobe consultant). I had left winter far behind for four days on the coast. A little work and a little play. As she would later say, was this a sort of a dual life? Maybe. But I needed it. It’s all I had to live for seemingly. She and I had been talking quite a bit since that night in West Hollywood a little more than two weeks prior.

Within an hour I was texting her while standing in front of her apartment building. Standing there trying like hell to look cool, leaning against “my” blue convertible. She walked out a side door a ways down and that’s when my brain shut off. The next four days were a dream for me. What I write here is my feeble attempt to document a perfect day(s) as much for my benefit as anyone’s. I remember bright red lipstick.

I was nervous, maybe she was too. We hugged, I opened the car door, we were out of there. We drove up the coast to a pretty cool surfer themed restaurant on the water in Malibu. It was surreal. The friend I had left weeks before was quickly becoming more than a friend. We had the whole day planned out together. Time to learn more about each other. Lunch was good. I forget what I had, she had fish tacos. We talked about classic rock. I fell for more of her sideways glances and quirky mannerisms. Stepping outside the valet brought the Mustang, I lowered the top.

Driving back we turned left, leaving the coast behind and followed an old green 911 up into the hills. I don’t know if she planned it or not but I had a blast following that Porsche up into the hills, enjoying the relatively fun to drive Mustang. We drove through the valley. Talked about music (she played me some Smiths). Talked about houses…hell talked about getting a house together. I was still nervous. But at some point driving back in towards Hollywood I put my hand on her knee. I don’t remember if it was then or some other time that day, but she said that’s when she knew she was in trouble. I’d known I was in trouble since I first laid eyes and talked to her in person. We were in trouble here.

Around three in the afternoon I dropped her back off so she could get ready for dinner and I could go check into my hotel.

Checked in I proceeded to take a shower, and iron my new shirt and linen(?) suit. Angela had gotten me cufflinks as a good luck gift so I fiddled with those.

[Text from her] Did you send me something?

Yes, yes I did. I had arranged for flowers to be delivered while she got ready. She loved them.

Returning to her apartment building, this time I went upstairs to hang out while she finished getting ready. I got to meet her dogs (I had brought a goodie bag for them to open).

And we kissed.

Back in the car we drove a couple miles down the road to Catch, a really cool restaurant with a garden vibe on the roof of some building. We deferred to the waiter to recommend five different dishes to share as a couple. She and I sat side by side in a semi-circle booth and talked and laughed, or at least smirked, the entire time. For me it was sublime to be so at ease and to be so incredibly happy. We looked good (she looked great…she’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known to be honest), we felt good and we worked good together. There was nothing forced or uncomfortable about it.

After dinner we went downtown to Edison which is a speak easy, burlesque kind of joint. Did I mention she looked incredible that night? Tight black dress, curving in all the right places. I was crazy for her. By now we were crazy about each other. Sitting next to each other became basically sitting intertwined in each other. I loved being so close to her, kissing her cheek or neck discretely. The dream turned into heaven. We ordered dessert, and ate none of it. The burlesque “show” turned out to be a five minute dance…we were out of there.

From there we capped off the night back at my place (my hotel room), listening to music, talking…

It was a dream like day. It’s really hard for me to remember because I don’t think my mind was registering it as being real. We’d go on to have one more full day together (pool, observatory, movie night in bed) and then two nights after work together. We talked about everything…our past, our future…feelings…our escape plan. Never in my life had I experienced what I experienced those perfect days spent with her.

Like a fool I fell in love.

Hard.

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