2:00 P.M… “NIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIK!!!”

I heard my name being yelled clear across the now deserted restaurant.  That could only mean one of two things.  Either the afternoon’s receipts came out short, or the owner, Adrian, needed me to run out and get some sort of gift for his wife because he’d been caught with the sitter, or a hostess, or a shop assistant.

Oh…before I get into all that, please allow me to give you a back story of sorts.  My name is Nikita Caudill, Nik for short.  My parents were frustrated beatniks and wanted their only daughter to have an exotic, unconventional name.  I ended up with a lot of jokes about being a runaway-turned-secret agent all through school.  So, I decided after that everyone would call me Nik.

School.  That’s another story.  I went to college with the intention of studying theater, and getting some great gig in a place like Second City or the Groundlings, but alas…I ended up loving Shakespeare and Tom Stoppard more than say, the techniques of Viola Spoolin.  So, upon graduation, I ended up moving to London in hopes of gaining some experience, ANY experience, within the British theater’s sphere of influence.

So far, things were going as well as could be expected.  I’d auditioned for a couple of parts here and there…Nothing major though.  Just bit parts, really.  I’m not exactly the typical leading lady.  Being only 5’1”, I don’t exactly cut the most dramatic figure on stage.  But I never really aimed to be the leading lady.  More like the leading lady’s really charming and funny best friend.  Ethel to her Lucy, you know?  Anyways, I’m short, and was blessed (or cursed, as I sometimes feel shopping in the small boutiques and designer-heavy shops so prevalent in London) with a very feminine, curvy form.  Needless to say, you’ll almost always find me in t-shirts and jeans.  So, funny friend roles few and far between, I managed to pay the bills by managing hADRIAN’S WALL, a trendy bistro/bar in the West End.

But I digress…

Anyways, Adrian is hollering for me from the back, so I drop my towel at the bar and head back towards his office.  I look in, and he’s got the money clip laying on his desk, the rainbow of notes displayed for anyone to see.  “Stupid, stupid man,” I thought to myself.  Leaving his money out like that.   But he has more money than he knows what to do with…when you mix that with the fact that he’s only 28 and the current toast of West London, you get a dangerous recipe.  Nouveau riche.  Blah.

“Yes, boss?  What’s up?” I inquired innocently.

“Um, yeah…Hi Nik.  I need you to pop down to Mimi’s…pick up something for the missus.” he replied, his face reddening.  “They just called, and I’m waiting for a call-back from the distributor.”

Ugh…Mimi’s.  One of those aforementioned boutiques for fabulously wealthy anorexics.  It was just down the street, and usually when he sent me there, he’d fucked up VERY badly.

“K, boss.  Is it on your tab?”

“Um, yeah…could you hurry?  Looks like rain and I wouldn’t want the dress to get wet.  Dry clean only, you know.”

“Oh.  Alright.  I’ll be right back.”  I hustled out of his office and closed the door behind me.  Great…not only do I have to do his dirty work for him, but now he’s more worried about some overpriced bit of cloth getting wet than me going out and catching pneumonia.  Oh well…

I trudged out into the dining area, threw my apron on the bar next to my towel and told the hostess I’d be right back.

I do have to admit, it did look like a nasty storm was brewing.  But it’s London…what else would you expect?  I walked down the street, looking at all the theater marquees, daydreaming about my name being up there. Then something disturbing crossed my visual path.  I was checking out the marquee for the upcoming musical version of “When Harry Met Sally” when it hit me.

LUKE PERRY?!?!?  What?

I can’t get a gig, but Dylan McKay can star in a West End production?  Mr. Sideburns?  A sudden feeling of complete dread hit me, but I continued on.

Finally I arrived at Mimi’s, and opened the door.  God, now I remember why I hated coming in here.  The walls were covered in some sort of bizarre magenta velvet, with gold leaf mirrors and sconces.  Wire mannequins displayed the season’s latest fashions, and techno pulsed softly over the sound system.  “Looks like they decorated with remnants from the ‘Moulin Rouge’ yard sale,” I said to no one in particular.

“Can I help you?” a snippy voice said behind me.

Typical.  Super-thin, super-tanned Victoria Beckham clone for a sales girl.

“Yes, I’m here to pick up Mr. Adrian Hale’s order.”

She seemed to perk up at the mention of his name.  “Oh, sure.  Hang on a tic and I’ll get it.”

I stood there, wishing I had brought my sunglasses…the damn walls seemed like they were glowing.  I had just started humming “Lady Marmalade” when I felt a tap on my shoulder.

“Here you go!  Tell Addie Melanie said hi!” she said with a plastic smile spread across her perfectly made-up face.

“Um, sure thing.  Thanks.”  I took the garment bag and bolted out the door.  As my eyes adjusted to the relative darkness outside, I decided to go around the back way and take a peek at the gift.  I know, nosy Nellie.  I unzipped the bag and saw a Cacharel blouse and skirt set in various shades of pink.  Pink.  Yikes.  I reached in and took a look at the price tag.

£3,000

“Three THOUSAND pounds!” I exclaimed, almost dropping the back in shock.  Then I realized I was in the middle of the sidewalk and hurriedly stuffed the tag back in the bag and zipped it up.  Who in their right mind would spend that much on some flimsy blouse and skirt?  I don’t care whose name is on it…that’s just ridiculous.  Adrian must’ve really screwed up this time.

***********************************

Since I had taken the back way around the block, I snuck down the alleyway beside the club and went in the back door.  Adrian was still in his office, so I just hung the garment bag on the outer door knob and headed back into the dining room.

It was at that precise moment that a huge clap of thunder sounded and the deluge started.  I looked outside and saw people running to get under awnings or bus shelters, or hiding out under the marquees.  I walked up to Lydia, the hostess and she said to me, “Wow…you sure got back in time!”  She wasn’t kidding.

“Go on ahead and go home, Lyd,” I told her.  “You live over at the university, so you’d be smart to head now before the tube gets really busy.  I can take care of things here.”

“You sure, Nik?”

“Yeah, things are pretty much done for the night.  See you tomorrow, and good luck on your exam in the morning!  Oh, and take my umbrella.  I have a spare in the back!” “Thanks, Nik!  I owe ya!” she yelled over her shoulder.  She was a good kid…only 18, but really smart and accomplished.  Studying drama at university.  She is the closest thing I have to a little sister.

I heard the door slam behind me, and soon after I heard Adrian yell, "See you later, Nik!"  and another slam of the door.

So, all alone, I finally get back to cleaning up and heading home to get ready for my night job.  I went behind the bar and turned on the stereo.  Sweet!  The station was playing “Melt With You” by Modern English.  I proceeded to dance my own disjointed sort of tribute to Molly Ringwald in “The Breakfast Club“, hopping from table to table, when I looked up to see a sopping wet man standing in the doorway.

I ran over and shut off the stereo, a little embarrassed that another soul had seen my normally private ritual of dancing like a moron to 80s pop music.

“Sir,” I said trying to catch my breath, brushing a stray wisp of hair out of my face.  “We’re closed for the afternoon.  But we’ll be re-opening at 5:30 if you want something to eat.”

He looked up at me, and I was startled by his eyes.  They were the brightest blue I had seen in my life.  “I know, I’m sorry to impose.  It’s obvious you’re  rather busy,” he said, a smirk on his face.  Smart ass.  “But I was wondering if I could just wait out this storm a few minutes.  I promise I won’t be any trouble.” He sounded really winded, like he had been running for a while.

“Oh, well…what the hell,” I replied.  “I’m just cleaning up.  Have a seat wherever.” I gestured to the dining area.

“Thanks…damn autumn storms pop up at the worst times, don’t they?”  He took off his saturated black coat, and I was a bit surprised by what he had on.  A white, Elizabethan-style shirt (I snickered, remembering the “Puffy Shirt” episode of Seinfeld), black pants, and what only could be black, high-heeled women’s’ boots.

“I just have to ask…I didn’t see ‘Pirates of Penzance’ playing anywhere…So are you rehearsing a play or what?”  I inquired, realizing after I had said it, how tactless it sounded.  “Not that I’m one to criticize someone else’s fashion sense or anything.”  Nice recovery.

He turned and looked at me.  “Actually, I was doing final dress rehearsals for ‘Richard III’ over at the Gielgud.  Opening tonight, you know. Didn’t really have time to take off  the shirt.  I just hoped to get home before the rain started.”  He looked out the window and laughed to himself. “I guess the rain had other ideas.”

Maybe it was just me…I watch way too much TV…But this guy looked really familiar.  I could’ve sworn I had seen him somewhere before, but I couldn’t peg it.  I think it was the voice, and the eyes.  You don’t forget eyes like his.  They were the brightest shade of blue I had ever seen, and against the grayness of the outside, they stood out even more.  As I stood there, wiping down tables and studying him, he turned and caught my stare.

“Honestly,” he said, “ I don’t always dress like a 15th century dandy!”  I laughed, and that seemed to relax us both.

“Um, it looks like the rain’s gonna let up for a while.  Would you like a cup of coffee or tea or something?” I said, hospitality genes kicking in. That, and I was really interested in talking to this very charming, disarmingly attractive man.

“Sure, coffee please.” He had a rather, well, cheeky smile on his face as he said that.  The kind you get when you think back on something funny, but don’t really care to share the joke.

“Of course…I’ll be right back.” I walked out of the dining room into the kitchen to get a pot of coffee brewing.  I looked out of the server’s window and saw him wander over to the bar and pick up a copy of the London Mirror that Lydia had brought in this morning.  He flipped through it casually, and I couldn’t help but notice how handsome he was beyond the "puffy shirt" and damp hair.  That, and he had on my favorite color of nail varnish, Chanel Vamp.  I’d know it anywhere.  Looked rather sexy on him, too.  The pot of coffee had just finished brewing, so I grabbed a tray, the pot, and two cups along with a tiny pitcher of cream and headed back out.

“Ahem” I cleared my throat. “Your coffee, sire!”

He laughed, and closed the paper. “Ah, thank you dear lady.  Please, join me at the table and partake of this lovely brew.”  He gestured towards the table he had occupied, and I followed.  I set the tray down on the table next to ours, and was about to set the cups down when he stopped me.  He came around and held a chair out for me, and gently pushed my chair to the table.  He took the cups, coffee, and cream and set them in front of us.

“You’ve worked all day. Please, allow me.”

I was surprised.  “Well, thank you.” was all I could muster.  I stared at my cup and gathered my thoughts.  “Funny, here we are, sharing a drink, and I’ve totally forgotten all my common courtesy.  I’m Nik,” and I reached out my hand to shake his.  “And you are?”

He finished pouring the coffee, and took my hand.  Only instead of shaking it, he bent over and kissed it.  “I’m Eddie.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Eddie.”

He smiled, and slid my cup towards me.  He took his and sat down across from me.  “Same to you, Nik.  Short for…?  You obviously aren’t a Nicholas.”

I laughed.  “Nikita.”

“Parents Elton John fans?”  He smiled.

“No, that was a bit too recent for me.  But I do like that song.  More like, frustrated beatniks.

“Ah, I see.  Well, it’s a beautiful name.  But you said Nik, so Nik it is,” he said, slowly stirring his coffee, not taking his eyes off me.  After a sip, he continued.  “So, it’s pretty obvious from your accent, or lack thereof, that you’re not from around here.  How did you end up in London?”

“Well,  it’s kind of a long story.”

He smiled and patted my hand.  “I have all the time in the world, love.”

**********************************************************

So, I told Eddie about my rather unconventional childhood…moving around from ashram to artists colony, to finally a normal suburban life.  He told me about living in the Middle East, then all around the UK.  We both laughed about failed attempts to get into school plays, and talked about losing parents very young.  His mom, and my dad, both from cancer.  Then we shared stories about university, and he seemed really interested in my passion for British theater.  The entire time I couldn't shake the feeling that I had seen him somewhere before.

“So you decided to come to the heart of it all, eh?” he asked, downing his last sip of coffee.

“Yeah, and here I am, managing a restaurant.  Really creative, isn’t it?” I sighed, a little embarrassed.

“I can forgive you,” he said, “but only if you tell me you didn’t come up with that hideous name for the place.” He pointed to the gaudy neon sign in the window, resplendent with a modern interpretation of Hadrian’s Wall, with the name of the place in bright red old English-style letters.

“That, my dear man, was here long before me, I swear” I told him, one hand over my heart and the other doing a mock-salute.

It was just at that moment that I caught a glimpse of the clock.

“Oh, shit!  It’s 4 already?  I have gotta get home and change for my night job!”  I ran around the dining room in a panicked state, trying to gather up the dishes we had made and take them back to the kitchen.  I was about to grab the tray to take it back, when Eddie grabbed my wrist, bringing me to a sudden stop next to our table.

“Hey, calm down.  Let me help.”  He looked down at me and reached behind me to grab the coffee pot.  “It’s the least I can do, you letting me hang here to wait out the storm and all.”

For a moment, it seemed like time stopped.  But I slid out of his grasp and gathered up the tray, leading Eddie back towards the kitchen.

“Wow,” he said as he looked around the darkened dish room.  “I feel like I’m in some sort of strange horror movie.  You know, one of those where the knife-toting killer sneaks up behind the lovely young heroine and….BOO!!!!!!!”

He grabbed my waist and I jumped, almost dropping the tray.  He started laughing at me, and when I saw the playfulness in his eyes, I couldn’t help but laugh a little myself.

“That was really cool, man.  Thanks for the coronary!”

He reached towards me and gave me a quick hug.  “Bah!  You know I was only kidding!”  We separated, and headed back out towards the dining room.

We returned to the table and proceeded to gather up our respective bags and keys, when he turned and came over to the bar.

“Um, Nik…” he trailed off.

“Yes, Eddie?  What?”

“Is there any way we could get together later tonight?  I mean, I know you have to work and all, and I have the play.  But maybe we could meet up somewhere, say, eleven-ish?”

It broke my heart.  Here I was, talking to this handsome, funny, albeit oddly-dressed man.  And the last thing I really wanted to do was work.  But it was too late to back out now.

“I’m sorry, Eddie.  I won’t get off work until after midnight.  I would love to get together, but tonight is really a bad night.”

I saw his face drop, almost the way you see it in old Warner Brothers cartoons. Then I had an idea.  I grabbed a ticket and pen off the bar, and jotted down my name and number.  “Here,” I said, handing it to him.  “Please, if you have the time, give me a call.  That’s the number here, and my mobile is under that.  Those are the best ways to get in touch with me.”

He smiled, and opened his bag, slipping the ticket inside a wallet.  He took out a business card and handed it to me.

“I know it looks a bit pretentious, but I doubt you could read my handwriting!” Eddie said as he handed me the card.  I stuck it in my pocket and grabbed my keys.

“I think we’d both better get going, or we’ll never get back to work tonight!”  I looked outside to see the late afternoon sun peeking out from the clouds.  “And I think Mother Nature’s panic attack has subsided.”

Eddie held the door for me, and waited until I locked it behind me.  “Now, are you sure I can’t give you a lift home?  It’s not a problem.”

“No…I don’t live far.  Thanks for the offer,” I said, not wanting our time together to end.   I reached my hand out to shake his, but he reached both arms out and said, “I think we’re both a bit past the hand-shake phase, don’t you?  Come give Eddie a hug!”  So I did.  It was a soft, warm hug…one of those ones that makes your knees turn to gelatin.  He leaned down and kissed me on the top of my head, and whispered, “Don’t get into too much trouble.”

I looked up at him and gave him another mock-salute.  “Yes, sir!  Right-o Cap’ in!” I replied in my best cockney accent.

We turned and had started to head our respective directions when I heard him yelling:

“Hey, Nikita!  Is it cold in your little corner of the world?”

I turned and blew him a raspberry.  He got a good chuckle, and we waved goodbye.  Then he yelled out one last time, “Call me, I mean it!”

“I WILL!!!”  I proceeded down the street, and stuck my hands in my pockets to keep them warm.  The weather may have cleared off, but it had also turned cooler.  Suddenly, I remembered his card was in my pocket.  I pulled it out and looked at it…Then it hit me!  One look at his name and I realized where I had seen him!

*************************

“Oh, my god,” I said.  “I just turned down a date with Eddie Izzard!”  Several people on the street looked at me as if I had lost my mind, but I was too in shock to care.  I think I must have sprinted the last three blocks home.  You would’ve thought I was being chased down the street by man-eating slugs.

I was excited, no doubt.  I thought for a second that I wasn’t too familiar with his work, but I had seen bit’s and pieces of his stand-up specials, and “The Cat’s Meow” was one of my favorite movies.  It’s unbelievable  how I hadn’t recognized him.  All of a sudden, everything hit me.  Ian had to see this.  He wouldn’t believe it.

Oh!  I didn’t tell you about Ian.  He’s my roommate, and best friend.  We met back in the States at university, and have remained close ever since.  When I told him about my move to London, he wouldn’t hear of me living anywhere but with him.  He’s been my teacher about all things in day-to-day life in London, and I don’t know what I would’ve done without him.

He’s in law school for the moment, so we only see each other at night.   That’s when we rehearse for the band.  Yep, we have a band.  A cover band, nothing glamorous or anything.  I sing and play piano, Ian is the guitarist, and a couple of his childhood buddies round out the quartet.

“Stupid band,” I muttered to myself.  If it wasn’t for the band, you see, I could’ve gone out with Eddie.  But noooo…tonight is our night to play at hADRIAN’S.  We’ve attracted quite a following, and Ian is reveling in his newfound cult-idol status.

I finally got to my apartment building, and flung the door open , charging up the three flights of stairs to our flat.  By the time I got to the front door, my makeup was sweated off, my hair was flying all over the place, and I was panting like a dying man in the middle of the Sahara.  I managed to get my key in the door and open it before I collapsed in a heap in the entryway.

“Honestly, Nik, can’t you wait to pass out until you get to the bedroom?” Ian asked, casually stepping over me like I was a bunch in the rug.

I relayed my news to Ian, but he just stood there looking down at me with a bewildered look on his face.

“You what?”

I managed to roll myself over, and between gasps for oxygen I said, “I *gasp* just *gasp* turned down a date *gasp* with Eddie *gasp* Izzard.”

Ian started laughing so hard, I thought he’d choke on the handful of Hob Nobs he’d just stuffed into his mouth.

“You’re too funny, you know that?  Eddie Izzard.” Ian said, holding his side and leaning against the wall for support. “How did you meet Eddie Izzard?”

I hadn’t quite regained the energy to tell him the whole story, so I just extended my right arm up into the air, flashing the precious business card.  Ian took it from me, and with one look turned ghost white.

“Bloody hell…”

“My thoughts, exactly.”  I peeled myself off the floor and took the card out of Ian’s chocolaty hand.

You’d better watch out for him, kid,” Ian said, a look of concern on his face.  “I’ve read things about him being a real lady-killer.”  Then he got a puzzled look on his face.  “Kinda off, really.  Birds flinging themselves at a bloke who wears more makeup than most of them do.”

I took my jacket off and hung it in the closet.  “But a sense of humor is supposedly the sexiest feature of a man, Ian.”

He shoveled the last of the Hob Nobs in his mouth and shook his head.  “And what trashy mag did you read that fact in?”

“Um..Cosmo” I said, barely audible.

“What was that?”

“COSMO!  Ok?  I read it in Cosmo!”

Ian sighed, and as he was heading towards his bedroom I heard him mumble, “Oh, and Cosmo always knows what women want.”  Then he closed the door and started tuning his guitars.

I knew there was no use pushing the issue, so I headed across the living room to the opposite side of the flat, and my bedroom.  I needed a quick nap.  I kicked my shoes off, threw my bag down by the closet door, and turned on my Sinatra CD.  But as soon as I laid down, the past afternoon’s events replayed in my head.  How funny Eddie was, and how educated and charming.  And those eyes…every time I pictured his face, I got shivers down my back.

“This is funny,” I thought.  “Twenty-four and you have a schoolgirl crush.  What would your mom think?”

And with that thought I finally drifted off, the stereo softly playing.

I’ll be seeing you,In all the old, familiar places…

***********************************

7 P.M…“Sooooooo…” I trailed off as I turned in front of my mirror.  “What’cha think, Ian?”

“Are you sure it’s right, you know…for a gig?” he replied, voice dripping with distain and sarcasm all at once.  “I mean, you, you really shouldn’t be showing THOSE off,” as he pointed to my chest.

“You know damn well I can’t hide them…that’s impossible!”

“Well, you don’t have to have them out waving at the whole world, do ya?”

I shook my head and turned back around, and Ian buried his nose back in a copy of Vogue that was laying on my bed.  How could this outfit be wrong?  White, fitted button-down shirt, black suede jeans, and my black high, high, HIGH heeled boots.  So what, if my cleavage was a bit more, um, abundant than usual.  Thank god for La Perla, I thought to myself.   And Ian, god bless him…he always complains about my outfits.  He thinks I should wear my standard vintage concert t-shirts and jeans when we‘re performing.  I make it a rule…always dress like the crowd.  In the West End, that means dressing up a bit…Especially at night.

I ran into the bathroom and quickly tousled my hair.  Hair properly flipped, yes.  Note to self: touch up your highlights next weekend.  Stray eyebrow hairs plucked, yes.  I put on just a light bit of makeup (as anyone who has performed knows, too much makeup and hot lights…you look like a paint-by-numbers clown after the first 15 minutes.), but packed extra in my bag for after the gig.  Just a touch of perfume, and suddenly I hear Ian hollering at me from downstairs.

“Come on Cinderella, it’s time for the ball!”

**********************************************

10 P.M…The show was going REALLY well.  Adrian was standing in the back of the club, a Cheshire cat grin spread across his face.  But I wasn’t quite sure if it was because of the crowd we had attracted (thank God for Ian’s law school pals…they always come out in force), or because of the human Barbie doll busy sticking her tongue in his ear.

I shuddered and turned my attention back to the crowd, who were busy calling out requests, both for songs, and for my shirt to come off.  I shrugged those comments off (I was used to it…get a few drinks in most guys and they lose all verbal control), and turned to take my place at the piano, calling Ian over.

“Songbird, k?” He nodded and cued the rest of the band to head out for a break.

“Here’s a classic, hopefully Fleetwood Mac would approve.”  I started playing…

For you…There’ll be no crying. For you…The sun will be shining.

The crowd cheered and most of the females starting singing along.

And I feel that when I’m with you… It’s alright, I know it’s right.

I saw couples starting to sway back and forth in each others’ arms.  I secretly wished I was in their places, with  someone to hold me close.

To you…I would give the world. To you…I would never be cold.

Over top of the amps I heard a bunch of people coming in, laughing and carrying on. “Great…a crop of drunken tourists,” I thought to myself.  But I blocked them out, focusing on finishing the song, and the first part of the set.  It was at the exact moment I was going to start the chorus I looked out and saw two piercing blue eyes looking right at me.

‘Cause I feel that when I’m with you, it’s alright…

Then, a singer’s worst nightmare.  Right at the chorus.

And the songbi---

Shit!  Shit!  Shit!  My voice cracked.  Regain composure!  Fast!  I kept playing and quietly cleared my throat.  It was Eddie, right in the middle of the big group that had just come in.  I’d know those eyes anywhere.  I hadn’t been able to get them out of my head all afternoon, and there he was.   Right at the moment I had screwed up.  But in an attempt to be professional, I improvised back to the start of the chorus and tried again.

And the songbirds are singing like they know the score… And I love you, I love you, I love you like never before.

Whew…made it though.  Just a few bars to go, then I can hide out back for a few minutes so everyone can forget.  But one last bit of determination made me really punch the last part of the song.

And I wish you all the love in the world…

I looked up, and Eddie was still looking at me, smiling.  Our eyes locked for a moment.

But most of all, I wish it from myself.

I managed to finish the song, and well enough to get a rousing ovation from the entire club.  As I stood up to take a bow, I glanced at the front of the club and saw Eddie, applauding very slowly and deliberately, never taking his eyes away from mine.  I smiled, and announced that we’d be back after 20.  With that, I took off for the alleyway that served as a sort of green room, determined not to let him distract me anymore.  I grabbed a bottle of water out of the cooler in the kitchen and flung open the heavy steel door to the outside.  Ian and the boys were mid-cigarette, talking about politics (per usual) and I startled them.

“H-h-holy shit, Nik…you could’ve killed one of us with that thing!” Paul stammered.  Drummers can be really skittish sometimes.  I took a large gulp of my water and leaned back against the wall of the club.

“I fucking choked, guys.  I lost my voice on the damn chorus!”

They looked at each other in surprise, not used to me swearing twice in the same sentence.

“We couldn’t tell…the crowd seemed to like it”, Ian said between puffs on his cigarette.  “It happens to everyone, so you really shouldn‘t…you aren’t listening to me, are you?”

I had been, but my eyes widened and I stood up straight.  I had glanced over Ian’s shoulder only briefly to watch the traffic when I saw those same blue eyes staring right back at me again.

“Hi,” I squeaked.  The guys all turned and were greeted by Eddie, standing  in the alley, wearing faded jeans, black Doc Martens boots , a black t-shirt and worn leather jacket.

“Fuck me…Eddie Izzard!” Paul exclaimed.  Great tact, I thought to myself.

“No thanks mate,” Eddie replied.  “I don’t swing that way, makeup or not”.

Ian rolled his eyes at me and gathered Paul and Eric (the bassist ) and headed back into the club.  “We’ve only got another 15 minutes…Don’t be late.”

“Yes, dad!” I retorted, smiling sickly sweet at him.  He rolled his eyes again and slammed the door behind him.

So there I was, alone in an alleyway with Eddie.  And all I could do was look down at the ground and scuff my heel on the pavement.

“So…working, eh?” he said, half-smirking.

“Yeah, I’m working.  This is my second shift, so to speak.  It doesn’t pay the bills, but I love it.  Which begs the question…What are you doing here?”

He smiled at me.  “Ah, I saw the late night drink menu, and you guys have the cheapest pints in the End.  So I figured I’d come back and down a few after my show.”  He pointed towards the steel door.  “That your boyfriend, then?”

I was taken aback.  “Him?  Ian?  NO!!” I started laughing.  “No, he’s my best friend, surrogate father, protector, moral pillar…you get the idea.”

That seemed to loosen Eddie up a little more.  When he looked up at me, I noticed for the first time that he had just a little bit of makeup on…just some eyeliner and a bit of mascara. But it was more than he had been wearing that afternoon.  If I had seen him with it on that afternoon, I would’ve recognized him immediately.  Despite it, he still looked really tired.

“Long night at the theater?”

“Yeah,” he sighed, leaning against the wall, next to me.  “Horrible audience.  Some idiot left his mobile on and mid-monologue, it rang.  What’s worse, the fucker answered it!”

I cringed, remembering the time I had been in the same situation.  Some people have no theater etiquette at all.

“ I take it by that face you know how that goes, eh?” he asked.

“Definitely.  I was Ophelia in ‘Hamlet’ back in school, and right before my death scene, some tool got a call.  What’s worse, his cell phone ring was ‘Livin’ La Vida Loca’”.

We both started cracking up at that, and it broke what ice was left between us.

“Look, Nik,” Eddie looked up at me expectantly.  “ I came here with a bunch of friends, but I think they’re going to leave and hit some new dance club.  I’m not really in the mood…How much longer are you ‘working’?” He winked at me when he said it.

“Well, we’ve got another 45 minutes or so…why?”

He stood up straight and jammed his hands into his pockets.  “Well…I was wondering if you’d still take me up on that drink?”

It took me no time at all to decide.

“YES!  Um, I mean, yeah, sure.”  God, I hoped I didn’t sound desperate.  “I’m not much of a drinker, but how about we get a cup of coffee?”

Eddie looked at me with that same strange look in his eyes, almost like he was trying not to laugh.  “Um, yah.  Sure.  Coffee.  That would be great.”

“What?  What did I say?  What’s wrong with coffee?”

“Nothing…nothing.”  he was smiling now.  “Coffee it is.”  “I’m going to head back in…you might want to as well.”

I looked at my watch.  Shit!  Late!

“See you after the show, then?” I hollered towards him from the doorway.

“No doubt…I wouldn’t miss this.”  He gave me a quick bow and proceeded to walk down the alley towards the club entrance.

***********************************************

Well, the second half of the set worked out perfectly.  Ian really kicked ass on his acoustic version of “Karma Police”, and our tribute to Queen worked out better than we had planned.  We were a little hesitant to tackle a medley of “Love of My Life”/ “It’s Late”/ “The Show Must Go On”, but Eric’s dead-on Freddy Mercury impression really wowed the audience.  I had noticed mid-set that Eddie’s entourage had departed, and he had moved to a seat closer to the stage.  “Wow”, I thought.  He really was a lot sexier than I had remembered.  Maybe it was my thing for guys in black leather, I dunno.  James Dean, Tommy Lee (yeah, I know.) He cracked me up during “The Show Must Go On”, picking up another patron’s lighter and waving it back and forth.

We got a standing ovation from the crowd, and a trio of really young girls flitted over to the stage to chat up the band.  (Now I know what Gwen Stefani must feel like!) I jumped down from the stage…which is no small feat in four and a half inch heels, mind you, and  headed towards Eddie’s table, long since lost in the crush of people trying to either get to the stage or get out of the club.  When I finally got there, he was gone.

“What the hell?!?” I said, scanning the club to see if he had moved.  I felt my heart sink a little bit.  When had he left?  He was right up there to the end of the show.  Typical man, I thought.  Some little theater groupie must’ve pounced between then and now.  Oh well…looks like I get to go home and watch my TiVo-ed Joolz Holland specials…again.   I headed back towards the kitchen office to grab my jacket and bag, when Paul snuck up behind me.

“NIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIK!” he yelled at the top of his lungs, causing me to jump about 4 feet in the air.

“What the-?!?  Don’t do that you bastard!” I exclaimed whilst proceeding to beat him with my jacket.

“Your gentlemen friend requests your presence in the dining room,” he said, ushering towards the club with a flourish.

“Thanks, Jeeves.  Man, no more Merchant-Ivory flicks for you.” I threw my jacket on and grabbed my bag.  Usually when Paul makes that crack, there’s some really horrible-looking freak wanting my autograph (usually the same ones yelling during the performance for me to “TAKE IT OOOOOOOOOOOFFFFFFFFFF!!!!!!!!!!!!”).  So I nudged the door open with my hip and at that moment, you couldn’t have smacked the smile off my face.

There was Eddie, holding a huge, and I mean HUGE bouquet of  cabbage roses.  He didn’t see me…he had his back turned towards the door.  I quietly walked up behind him and cleared my throat.

“AHEM!”

He jumped about as high as I had when he scared me earlier today, or when Paul snuck up on me.  He stood there, free hand clutching his chest.  When his pulse had regulated, he found me buckled over against the bar, holding my sides and laughing hysterically.

“Oooh…very funny.  You  could’ve killed me, you know,” he said smiling.

“I’m *snort* sorry *snort*”.  I have a horrible habit of snorting when I laugh too hard.  Everyone makes fun of me about it, but I can’t help it.

“Are you alright?  Oxygen getting to all  necessary points?” Eddie inquired, still trying to regain his composure.

I looked up at him, and he was smiling this sweet, but also devilish smile.  “Yes, I’m fine.  So where did you run off to?”

“Well, isn’t it common courtesy to get the leading lady some flowers to congratulate her on a wonderful performance?”  He presented the bouquet with a flourish, bowing to me again.

“Why thank you, good sir.  Please, allowest me to partake of a vase and water for these loveliest of blooms.” I replied in my phoniest, poshest attempt at a British accent.

“Cheeky, aren’t we?” Eddie said, shooting me a sideways glance.

“Always.  There…A beer pitcher wouldn’t have been my first choice, but  I didn’t want to carry them around all night without water.” I perched them on the middle of the bar…a great place for them until I could take them home tomorrow afternoon.

“So…do you like?” he asked.

“I love them.  Thank you so much.”  They really were lovely, shades of pale pink, yellow and cream.  “I really don’t think I deserved them.  My performance wasn’t that great.  You witnessed my crack up.”

He leaned across the bar and took my hand.  “It was lovely…and I barely noticed it.  You have a beautiful voice.” He looked down and said, “And you look lovely as well.”

I blushed like crazy.  Did a famous actor/comedian just compliment a waitress/lounge singer?  No way.  I was in shock.  “Um…well, compared to me after a full day of restaurant service, a wet lemur would be lovely.  Not to mention that you saw my little dance.”

He looked me in the eyes, and said very slowly, “No, I mean it.  You. Look. Beautiful.”

“Um..t-t-t-hank you,” I managed to say while trying to control my pulse and my breathing.  Eddie’s eyes were the color of the ocean on a clear summer day.  That color of blue that you love, but can’t quite describe when someone asks you what it is.  And the eyeliner and mascara only accented them further.  I suddenly found it hard to compose a thought.  Or witty turn of phrase.

After what could only be called a Pinter pause (pregnant would’ve been too short), we separated and I made my way around to the front of the bar. Eddie smiled at me and crooked his right arm for me to loop my left one through.

“So, love…where shall we get that cup of coffee?”  He smiled uncontrollably as he said it.

I took his arm.  “Well, there’s a great place down the block.  Big fluffy couches and chairs.  Very cozy.  How does that sound?”  He nodded in agreement and I shouted my good nights to the guys as they packed up their equipment.  As they returned their good nights, I turned to Eddie and saw he was still smiling, and mumbling about “getting a cup of coffee”.

“What is so funny about a cup of coffee, anyways?”

He looked at me and flashed the devilish grin.  “Oh, I’ll tell you later.  Lead the way, Nik.  Lead the way.”

*************************

12:30 AM…You know, you always see movies where a couple takes a romantic walk at night, chatting, laughing, completely at leisure with each other.  And you sit there, positively green with envy, knowing full well you won’t ever experience anything remotely like it.  You picture your “perfect date” in your head, and even talk about it with your friends.

This was turning out to be one of those cinematically perfect dates.  Eddie and I walked the streets of West London arm in arm, talking about plays we had seen (or wanted to see), and laughing at such oddities as “Jerry Springer: The Musical” (“I wonder if the audience gets to insult the cast?  What about ‘Jerry Beads’ ?”)  and my earlier find of Luke Perry starring in “When Harry Met Sally”   After the same initial shock I experienced, and much shared laughter at Mr. Perry‘s expense, we continued towards the coffee shop.

“You know,” Eddie said, “I really liked ‘When Harry Met Sally’, but I’m not really sure if it will translate to the stage.”

I was intrigued by the observation.  “Oh, and how is that?” I asked.

“Well, for example, the deli scene.  American cinema audiences embraced that scene, and I don’t think your typical  British theater audience is quite prepared for that.”  He nudged me and looked at me with a knowing grin.

I returned the smile.  “Ah…do you mean, “Oh..oh god..oh…OOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!  YES! YES! YES!” I mocked the infamous orgasm scene right out in the middle of the sidewalk, still relatively crowded.

“Oh, Jesus!” Eddie cupped a hand over my mouth, his eyes wide and his face turning an ever deeper shade of red.

“Why, Mr. Izzard I do believe you are embarrassed!” I managed to break away and headed for the coffee shop door.  I grabbed the knob on the front door, and let out one last moan of ecstasy before going in.  I could see him standing out on the sidewalk, shaking his finger at me, smiling.

************************

“You’re quite a character, Nik?  You know that?”  Eddie said as we settled into a plush green velvet sofa, coffees in hand.  “And a bit of an exhibitionist, too.”

I laughed.  “No, not so much an exhibitionist as I am a show-off.  There is a difference.  I don’t want people to know everything about me.  Not like Madonna or anything.  She’s a prime example of an exhibitionist. I’m actually really boring, when you get down to it.”

He turned towards me, and put one hand on my leg.  “And how is that?  I don’t find you boring in the least.” His eyes softened, and once again, I felt the butterflies in my stomach.

“Well, my idea of a nice night is sitting back in my room watching my “Laugh-In” DVDs and old Marx Brothers movies, or listening to Elvis Costello and John Coltrane.  I rarely go out to clubs, usually because I’m tired from working all day.  That, or I read through trade papers, looking for auditions.  I read tons of books, plays…and my mom sends me my ‘trashy mags’, as Ian calls them.  But she doesn’t like to…she thinks they rot my brain.”

“Trashy mags?”

I was kind of embarrassed to tell him.  I sank back into the warm confines of the sofa.  “Cosmo.  US Weekly.  Things like that.  I know, it’s juvenile.   But I can’t help it.  I used to sneak them into the house when my friends would give them to me.  I hid them under my mattress, like a schoolboy with his dad’s ‘Playboy’s.”

Eddie laughed.  “Hey, we all have addictions like that.  I watch ‘Monty Python’ whenever I can.  I probably have more of their material memorized than is considered healthy.”

“I think we’re all boring in our own ways,” he continued, staring into his cup.  “But sometimes that’s what makes us comfortable.  Can’t be sparkling and witty all the time, can we?”

We looked up from our respective cups at the same time, and our eyes met.  It was like something clicked.  Eddie reached up and gently tucked my hair behind my ear.  Then he leaned in, and gently kissed my cheek.  His lips were so soft.  I could feel his breath on my ear, and I shuddered a little bit.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he said, pulling away.  “That was a little forward, wasn’t it?”  His face was slightly flushed.

I smiled.  “No…not at all.  My ears are just ticklish, that’s all.”  I set my now empty cup down on the table and stood up.  “C’mon, let’s get out of here and take another walk.  It’s nice outside, and I have a good caffeine buzz building.  Wink, wink, nudge, nudge.  Know what I mean?”  I hoped another walk might calm him down, since he now seemed a bit nervous again.  He looked up at me and smiled, taking one last gulp of coffee.

“Lead the way.” he said, taking my hand.  He threw some money on the table and I led him out into the West London night.  “Nice ‘Python’ quote, by the way…” “Thanks.”

*****************************

We headed out towards Charring Cross, and the autumnal night air was turning colder.  I shivered, and Eddie wrapped his arm around my waist.  “Didn’t you think to bring a heavier coat?  London can be really cold at night,” he remarked, looking towards the sky.  “Hmmm…no stars.  I think it’s going to rain again.”

“Yeah.  Hey, I guess it is cold in my little corner of the world tonight, eh?”  I said, trying not to succumb to the cold wind that was picking up.

“Ah, glad you liked my attempt at flirting with you,” Eddie said, pulling me a little closer to him.  He smelled so good, between his spicy cologne, the leather jacket, and just that clean man smell.  I leaned my head on his shoulder, and he in return leaned his head down and rested it against mine.  It made walking a little  awkward, but it felt safe.  Warm.  In my relaxed state, I started humming  “I‘ll Be Seeing You“.  Eddie sighed and held me tighter.

“I like it when you sing to me.”

I stopped and looked up at him.  There was no smile, only eyes that seemed on the verge of tears.  “My mum used to sing to me when I was little.  Just like that.  Softly…” He trailed off.  I reached up and gently brushed the palm of my hand against his cheek.  It was so smooth, so warm…he leaned into my hand, and without thinking, I slowly started to lean up towards him.  Our lips were just barely meeting when all of a sudden…

*BOOM*

A huge crack of thunder tore through the darkness, and just as it had earlier, it started to pour rain almost immediately.  Luckily, there was a store with an awning across the street.  We ran over and took shelter from the storm.

“Funny…you always think that can’t possibly happen.  Proof God has a sense of humor,” I said nervously, catching a glimpse of myself in the darkened window. “So much for the perfect date.”  My hair was matted to my head (the way it can only with massive amounts of product on it), makeup running everywhere.  I rummaged through my bag and managed to find a couple of tissues. “Here, it’s not much, but it will at least dry off your face,” I said, handing one to Eddie.  Instead of taking the tissue, he took my bag out of my hand and set it at our feet.  He pulled me close to him, and cradled my face with one hand.

“Nik, I want to kiss you…now shut up and let me.” Before I had a chance to respond, his lips were on mine, warm, soft.  Then, he pulled back, but I grabbed him and kissed him back.  Before either one of us knew what was happening, he had me against the window.  We were kissing passionately, our hands exploring each other clumsily through our layers of slightly soggy clothing.  One of his hands found it’s way back up to my face, cradling it again.  He slowly ran his fingers into my hair, gently tugging it.  He ran his lips and tongue down to my neck, nuzzling me.  I found my arms under his jacket, then his shirt, feeling the smooth heat from his back.  Instinctively, I gently started running my nails up and down his back, Eddie moaning softly into my neck.

Suddenly, he stopped, and slowly set be back down on the ground.  “Is something wrong?” I asked, catching my breath.

“Yes…We can’t do this here.  Come with me, please.  I haven’t been able to get you out of my head all day.”  His eyes were on fire, and his lips trembling.  I was torn.  Here I was, wanting this man standing before me, brown hair wet and curling around his face and ears, eye makeup running down his cheeks.  But what about what Ian said… “He’s a lady-killer…” I could hear those words echoing in my head.

But here we were, and just looking at him, I couldn’t bear to leave him.  I reached out towards him, and we came together in a warm embrace.  He was shaking as much as I was, either from the cold or from desire.  I wasn’t sure which.

“So, will you?” Eddie whispered, kissing my shoulder.  I felt his grip around me tighten, and I knew that I wanted to, reputation be damned.

“Yes.”

He looked up at me, and I could tell he’d been tearing up again.  His eyes were red, and one tear was still  hanging to the tip of his nose.  I wiped it away with my finger, and kissed his forehead.  “Yes.  I will.”

He kissed me gently, and handed me my bag.  He took his mobile from a pocket and called a cab.  And at that moment, I knew that I couldn’t turn back.  But I really didn’t know if I wanted to.  A few minutes later the cab pulled up, and Eddie ran to open the door for me.  I got in, and he hopped in right behind me.  He gave the driver an address, and in an instant, we were off.

To where and what, that was anyone’s guess.

****************************

1:30 A.M…So, there I was sitting in the back of a mini-cab with Eddie Izzard.  He was curled towards me, arm across my waist, head on my shoulder. I was in turn curled towards him, holding him, resting my head on his. I looked out the rain-streaked windows as the lights of London passed by. I felt his breath, warm on my neck, quiet and calm.  I leaned down and kissed the top of his head, and he cuddled up closer to me, holding me tighter.

“Are you ok?” I asked softly.

“I was going to ask you the same thing,” Eddie responded.  “Are you sure you sure you’re alright with this?”

I gently lifted his head with my hand and looked him in the eyes.  “Yes. I didn’t tell you, but I hadn’t been able to get you out of my head today, either.”

He smiled.  “Oh?  Do tell.”

I felt a sudden flush of embarrassment.  “Well…I just couldn’t believe that someone as handsome, charming, and successful as you would be interested at all in someone like me.  A nobody, really.”

Eddie sat up, and took my head in his hands.  “Nik, I liked you.  You are intelligent, funny, and quite talented as I discovered tonight.  Not to mention very beautiful.”

I looked away from him.  “Nah…I’m just me.  I’m none of those superlatives.”

“Oh, stop.” he said, a little put off.  “I’m sick of hearing women talk down about themselves.  Of course you are you.  Who else could you be? It just so happens that I found you to be all of those things I just said.  You are the most amazing person I have met in a long time…” He stopped, and turned my head so I was forced to look him in the eyes again.  The fire had returned.

“…And I want to get to know you better.  Much better.” He leaned in, and kissed me softly, then more and more passionately.  Well, as passionately as you can trying to maneuver yourself around in the back of a mini-cab. He tried to pull me onto his lap, and I whacked my head on the roof of the car in the process.

“Ouch!  That’s gonna leave a mark!”  We looked at each other, and couldn’t help it…we both started laughing hysterically.  I sat back, clutching my sides, and looked up to see the driver rolling his eyes at us in the rear view mirror. That started me laughing even harder.

Before we knew it, the car had stopped, right in front of a beautiful old brownstone building.  The driver cleared his throat and said, “I think this is your stop, SIR,” in a tone that expressed his desire to get us the hell out of his taxi.

Eddie composed himself, thanked the driver, and handed him the fare.  He then ran around the front of the cab to open my door.  I grabbed my bag, and took his hand. We ran to the front door, and Eddie fumbled for his keys. I stopped him, and took his hands in mine.

“Sweetie, calm down.” He laughed nervously.

“Yeah, I guess I’m a little jumpy, eh?   Sorry,  beautiful women have that effect on me.”  He kissed me on the cheek, and finally got the door unlocked.  He held the door open and I stepped inside.

The house was beautiful.  Bright colors on the walls, and a collection of old movie posters scattered around the living area.  I noticed a rather impressive collection of DVDs surrounding a huge entertainment center.  You know the kind…all the latest gizmos.  Plasma TV, surround sound, the whole nine yards.  Typically male, I thought.

I leaned into the room to look around further, but before I had the chance, Eddie grabbed me and spun me around.  “I’ll show you around later,” he said, wicked grin on his face.  He leaned me up against the wall and pressed his lips to mine.  His lips trailed down my neck, gently biting me, sending shivers down my spine.  We started moving towards the staircase, when my heel caught on the rug and we tumbled backwards.

“Shit…are you alright?” Eddie asked, a look of concern temporarily replacing the look of lust that had been in his eyes.  He was breathing hard, holding me close.

“Yeah,” I said, “but I can’t move my legs.”

“Oh my god, I’m sorry, I-” I stopped him, and smiled.

“No, I’m not hurt, silly.  You’re sitting on them.”  I pointed behind him, and he turned, realizing he was pinning me down.

He stood up, and helped me to my feet.  “A-ok?” he asked.

“A-ok.  Now where were we?” I gave him my best come-hither look, and proceeded to slowly climb the stairs.  I started unbuttoning my shirt, one button at a time.  Eddie’s eyes never left me, and the attention was intense.  He started to follow me, but I put my hand up, instructing him to stop.  I stood at the middle of the stairway, and I slipped my shirt off, leaving it behind on the stairs.

He stood there at the foot of the stairs, eyes glazed over.  I tried to remove my boots seductively, not an easy thing.  I toddled back and forth across the stairs, trying not to fall.  When I finally got them off I turned around and crooked my finger at him.  He ran up after me, and grabbed me, carrying me into the bedroom.  He kicked the door shut behind him, and laid me down on the bed.  He kissed me, then stood up.

“Don’t move…I’ll be right  back.” And with that, he disappeared into the bathroom.  I looked at the clock, and knew that Ian was probably sitting in the living room by the phone, like someone’s father when they miss curfew. “Oh well,” I thought.  “He’ll get over it.”

I sat up and slid out of my pants and stockings, and pulled back the duvet. It was too cold to be sitting there in just my underwear, so I crawled under, trying to stay warm.  I heard drawers open and close, and the rattle of what I thought were bottles.  I laid back and listened to the sound of the rain on the windows…soothing and quiet.

I was almost asleep when I heard the door open and blinked at a bright light piercing through the darkness.  Eddie was standing there, leaning against one side of the doorway.  I could only see him in silhouette, and he slowly started moving towards the bed.  When he reached the bedside, I finally got a better look at him.

He was wearing a purple silk robe, and had re-applied his makeup.  His eyes were lined in dark, dark kohl, his cheeks colored with just a hint of blush, and his lips painted a deep ruby red.  I just looked at him, too stunned to speak.

“Oh,” he said, his eyes dropping.  “I wasn’t sure what you would think.  I mean, you might not know but I’m a-”

I put my hand up, and he stopped mid-sentence.  “Eddie,” I managed to say.   “I know about you, ok?  It’s just…”

“Just what?”

“You look beautiful, and I-I am so lucky to be here right now.”

He sat down on the bed and smiled.  “Luck has nothing to do with it.  I was fascinated by you, and I want to be with you.  Plain and simple.”  He leaned down and kissed me.  “Now let’s finish what we started, shall we?”

He flashed his devilish grin again, and got under the covers with me.  The second we starting kissing, there was no cold, no rain, no makeup, nothing like that.  It was just him and me.  His skin was soft and warm, and despite his feminine appearance he was most DEFINITELY male.  I untied the robe, noticing how the light was defining the muscles in his arms and shoulders.  And as the two of us lay there, naked both physically and emotionally, he really was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.

***********************************

9:00 A.M…I rolled over, and noticed the first shafts of sunlight creeping over the horizon.  I rubbed my eyes and laid there, tired and a bit sore (boy, I was really out of practice!).  I didn’t really feel like getting up, so I rolled back over, hoping to get a little more snuggle time in with Eddie before I had to go.  But he wasn’t there.

I felt a little awkward just laying there.  I hoped he hadn’t wanted me to leave.  Maybe I snored.

Oh god, I DO snore!

All of the negative thoughts I could imagine popped into my head.  I jumped out of bed and grabbed my clothes, charging into the bathroom.  I made sure I had everything, when I realized that I had left my shirt on the stairway, and it wasn’t anywhere close to  the bedroom.

“Shit!” I exclaimed, grabbing a bathrobe off the back of the door and quietly heading towards the door.  At the precise moment I reached for the doorknob, it turned and Eddie opened the door, carrying a fully-laden tray of various breakfast foods.

“Good morning, love.  Going out?” he said, with a huge smile.

“Um, well, I-” I couldn’t get it out.  He just looked so sweet standing there.  “I wanted to get my shirt.”

“Oh, well.  Would you join me for some breakfast first?”  He set the tray down on the nightstand.  “I have to be at the theater at 2 for some press junket-y thing.”  He smiled at me, came over and kissed me gently.  “Let me grab something out of my closet for you…I don’t think my bathrobe will make for comfortable dining attire.”

I smiled, and nodded.  He grabbed a beautiful silk pajama set out of the closet and handed it to me.  I got up to go to the bathroom to change, and he took a hold of my arm.

“No, please.  I like how you look.  Don’t hide from me.”

I hung my head and sighed.  “It’s not that, Eddie.”  I looked up, and saw his face, full of concern and confusion.  I sighed and continued.  “I just don’t like how I look.  It’s weird, I know.”  I saw him shake his head, but I tried to explain my hang-ups.  I‘m not a “naked” person.  “I look around at auditions, on the street, everywhere.  And all I see anywhere is this ideal of beauty and style that is so far off from me.  I am chunky, short and acerbic, when the whole world wants thin, tall and vapid.”  I lifted up the side of the robe and exposed my leg.  “You see these?” I said, pointed to my thighs.  “These are stretch marks.  STRETCH marks.  I’m only 24!”

Eddie just sat on the side of the bed, still shaking his head.  “There is nothing wrong with you, dammit!”  He stood up suddenly, and grabbed my shoulders. “You see what I am!  I had to hide the real me for twenty years! But I accepted it, and soon enough people started accepting me.  You accepted me, didn’t you?  You knew about me, didn’t you?  Yet you came here with me.” He let me go, and walked towards the window.  “I never once looked at any of what YOU think are your flaws.  I looked at you as a whole.  And I happen to think that you are one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen. That’s what I saw.”

I stood there in Eddie’s bathrobe, trying to take it what he had just said to me.  Last night was easily one of the greatest nights of my life. Neither one of us really took the time to notice superficial things.  I mean, we were both really nervous, but we moved on past nerves and shared something amazing, something…well, special.

“You really shouldn’t care what other people think.  It’s hard, I know.  I’ve been there.  I still care what other people think more than I should.”  Eddie leaned against the wall, and sighed.

I sat back on the bed, and the only thing I could do was cry.  He was right. I had no right whatsoever to complain about my stupid, silly little problems.  I tried to talk, but my words only came out as sobs that echoed around the room.

“I’m sorry, Eddie.  I’m so sorry.”  That was all I could manage.  I kept muttering it over and over again, and buried my face in my hands.

He walked over to me and knelt down.  “Hey, stop it.  That’s not what I wanted.  God, that’s the last thing I want to see, you crying.  I just want you to realize that I see you for who you really are.  You are a beautiful, talented young woman.  Someone I really want in my life.”  He lifted my head up and kissed me, and wiped the tears off my face.  He handed me a tissue from the nightstand.

“Eddie…”

“Yes, Nik?”

“Thank you.  I mean it.” I said, trying to regain my composure.  “Wow *sniffle*.  Cathartic, huh?”

He smiled up at me.  “Sometimes it helps.  And I’m not that emotional a person.  I had my moment last night, and now you’ve had yours.”  He went over to the nightstand and poured two glasses of juice.

“You know,” he started.  “I haven’t been this domestic in a long time.  Not since…Oh, I won’t go into it.”

He handed me my glass, and a thought popped into my head.  “What was all that laughter about when I talked about getting a cup of coffee last night?”

Eddie started laughing.  “I take it you don’t know my work, then?”

I nodded.  “I know some, but not as well as I probably should.”

He smiled and sat down next to me. “Well, Nik, it’s like this…”