Pamela, New York

Chapter 6

So sorry for the spacing problem before. I was updating from my phone before and it is now fixed! xxx
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"Look at you," he says, walking toward me.

"Look at you," I say, walking toward him.

For some reason he walks faster and faster and the next thing I know, I was wrapped inside his arms. He hugs me for a long time and I realize his hug feels the same. He even smells the same.

This smell that my brain apparently still associate with him.

"God, I've missed you," he whispers right to my ear.

"I miss you too," I say, pulling my body away because I was suddenly remembered of the fashion people who are still here. "Where is everybody?"

"Everbody who?" he asks.

"The fashion team?"

"Aren't they on a flight back to New York tonight?" Will says, "It was arranged that way."

"How about the photoshoot?"

"It's done. We did it this morning."

"What?" I say in surprise, "And it finished? It's barely 3 pm now Will."

"How long does photoshoot usually take?"

"For the Ultimate Bachelor? Oh I don't know, 12 hours?"

"That's crazy. Albert requested it to be short, so we can get rid of them fast," he grins, "I know you'll be uncomfortable if they're around."

"You really have planned this out carefully, have you."

"Oh yes I have."

"So what exactly is your plan now that I am here?"

"I was gonna start with offering you a champagne and fresh African strawberries before you take a quick cold shower, followed by short rest before dinner."

"Can I do my interview during dinner?"

"No, you can do interview tomorrow. We have a very long drive tomorrow, we're gonna need something to talk about."

***

We have the dinner in the balcony overlooking the city lights. It was a warm night, but for some reason I feel very comfortable. I am wearing a salmon-colored summer dress, putting my hair in ballerina bun, with small white pearl earrings. I don't bother to wear anything on my feet since we're eating in the room.

"You look ravishing," Will says, smiling. He's wearing a dark denim with white buttoned down shirt. He seems to have a bit of color after Iraq, which is refreshing.

"Thanks," I smile, "You too. I like your tan."

"It's fresh from Iraq," he says, "You like it?"

"I love it," I chuckle, "Maybe I should go there too to get one."

"Oh please don't," he says while he pulls a chair for me. "You just stay here waiting for me."

"Ugh. Cheesy." I say

He laughs. "Wine?"

"Absolutely."

He pours me a glass and he pours one for himself.
"So how was Iraq though? Did you shoot anybody?"

"I am not allowed to talk about it, remember?"

"What," I look at him, "Come on."

"I'm serious."

"But it's Iraq. Not CIA."

"Is there a difference?" he smirks

"Well tell me about how you lived then. Did you sleep in a tent?"