Chapter 35
Flynn
I had to give Anna credit. For someone who'd looked scared shitless fifteen minutes ago, she was making a decent show of it.
But now, I had a different problem. Her show wastoogood, and I was having a hard time remembering to hate her.
The worst part was, she wasn't going about it in the usual way. She wasn't flirting, giggling, or acting like she wanted to jump head-first into my pants.
No. She was trying to get a rise out of me.
As I watched, she leaned across the table, making her cleavage – the perfect amount, by the way – shift in her little black dress. From what I could tell, this wasn't part of her act, but it hit me just the same.
She obviously didn't realize how sexy she was or what she was doing to me.No. She was going for a rise of a different kind.
"What you should do," she said, "is carry it all the time."
She was talking about my sword – the one I carried in the movies. The sword had a name, not that it mattered now.
I shifted in my seat. She was getting a rise out of me, all right, but not the kind she was going for.
As far as her dress, it had come from the closet that I'd had stocked in the pink bedroom. I knew this because I'd seen the dress a couple of weeks ago, when the shopper had carried it in.
It hadn't looked half as good on the hanger.
The dress was nothing special. The neckline wasn't even that low. Still, the way it looked on Anna was giving me all kinds of ideas that had nothing to do with the sword – or at least not the sword I carried in the movies.
Trying like hell not to show it, I said, "Yeah? Why would I want to do that?"
"Oh, I dunno," she said. "Self-defense?"
I leaned back in the booth. "Yeah? Anything else?"
So far, she'd suggested that I grow out my hair, wear my armor full-time, and walk with a limp. I had to give her points for the limp thing. It had, after all, been part of the plot inSwordplay, the movie that had come out just last year.
But what Annadidn'tknow was that the limp was for real. I'd gotten injured doing one of my own stunts, and rather than get a body double, the director had opted to write the limp into the script, which meant that I'd had to keep on limping long after the leg had healed.
But hey, I wasn't complaining. After all, I'd done worse things for money.
Across from me, Anna said, "Here's an idea. The heads – do you get to keep them?"
"What heads?"
"The ones you lop off."
I gave her a look. "You know that's an act, right?"
"Well, sure," she said. "But theydidshow the heads – you know, as they hit the ground. What you should do is buy them from the movie people."
Now,thisI had to hear. "Why would I want to do that?"
"So you could carry them around, maybe in a sack or something." She smiled. "Nothing says 'Hey, I'm a bigtime movie star,' like a sack full of severed heads."
A bigtime movie star?I almost laughed, but not because it wasn't true. Yeah, I was a movie star. And yeah, the gig had been very good to me. But the whole point of moving back here to my hometown was to put a stop to all that.
The truth was, I fucking hated it.
Don't get me wrong. I wasn't ungrateful. But Iwasdone.
