When KP came back into the room, he looked like he hadn’t gotten very good news. Clearly his little problem, or big one, however you wanted to put it, had gone away and he was quiet and subdued.
“Is everything okay?” I asked as we headed back to the car where the driver was waiting for us.
“Just not the greatest news,” was all he shared.
I ran my hand up and down his back. “Do you want to stay with him?”
“No, it’s not new news, just not great news. I guess you always hope things will be different or get better. People don’t have all of the answers, and you pray they’re wrong. Anyway, Wenton and I made a pact with each other. We wouldn’t think about tomorrow, we’d focus only on today. His philosophy is… if you worry about the future, you miss the moments and mourn their loss. I’ve been worried about Wenton my whole life. I’m not going to worry anymore. I’m just going to live in the moment as I’d promised him I would. However, we should probably finish the portrait soon. I’d really like to have it.” He wasn’t sad, just distant.
“Of course, I think I’ll be able to finish it by next week,” I assured him.
He gave me a gorgeous smile.
“Thanks. Not just for the painting, but for being here, for all of this. You certainly didn’t need to take this on.”
“Yes, I did. I love Wenton.” And was falling for his brother.
“Yeah, he’s amazing. So, is it really okay if I join you tonight?” I loved the new and improved, no-sex pushing KP. He was polite and human.
“Yes, I’m looking forward to it. We just have to hit the grocery store before we get home.” If KP and Wenton could live in the moment, I could too.
We were going to have fun tonight. Despite everything, Gran and I didn’t live in a mental health facility. We had our own home and we could throw down a mean dinner party together.
“This should be exciting,” he said with a note of trepidation.
“Wow, you really do have a problem,” I teased.
“Not that kind of exciting.” He winced a little as he looked at me. “I’ve never actually been grocery shopping at a proper grocery store to buy food for a dinner that I intended to make, cook, and eat.”
My jaw sagged. “You have to be kidding.” Surely, he was kidding.
He chucked me softly under the chin. “Nope, not kidding.” I loved when he was playful.
“Never? How the hell does one get away with that?”
“I’m KP, remember,” he said and beat his chest. “Me famous movie producer.”
I laughed at his Tarzan impersonation. “You mean the lame-o who’s never been inside of a grocery store?”
He gave me a mock insulted look. “I’ve been in one, just never bought anything I intended on cooking,” he corrected.
I rubbed my hands together. “Oh, this will be exciting.”
We arrived at the grocery store, and as an amusing joke, I decided to cook breaded catfish for dinner, almost the same meal KP had when he first propositioned me. He didn’t say anything, but I could tell he saw the irony there. I decided that we should have corn on the cob, and if Gran was up to it, her famous apple pie à la mode. I was getting excited just thinking of the meal. In order to satisfy KP’s gourmet palate, I picked up some fancy hors d’oeuvres like caviar, crackers, and expensive stinky cheese. I let him pick the wine, as I really was way out of my league there.
The whole shopping experience was comical. I was feeling a little bold so I typed out a shopping list on my new iPhone and handed it to him.
“You have a new hunt.” I waggled my brow at him. “I’ll stay by your side for moral support, but you have to get all the items on this list. Shall we make this a timed exercise?”
Sensing the challenge, KP agreed to collect the items on the list in under twenty minutes. “Shall there be a reward if I succeed?” God, the man was walking seduction.
“Yes, there shall,” I mentioned in a regal tone.
He perked up.
“What shall it be?” he asked with a deep sultry voice.
This man must have just been hardwired for sex.
“Dinner,” I announced in my best school head mistress voice. “Ready, set…”
“Wait, I’m not ready,” he freaked.
I rolled my eyes. “What do you need to get ready?” He was such a domestic wuss.
“I have to look at the aisle markers, plan my strategy.”
That deserved an even bigger eye roll. “Okay, Martha, do what you must.”
He looked up at the headings over each aisle and then back to the phone. He highlighted a few items. After a few minutes, he loosened up his shoulders and put his game face on.
“I’m ready.” He leaned in like a prizefighter.
“Then go.”
And go he went.
I was quite impressed with his strategy; he was finding a lot of what we needed. He just grabbed things that were the most expensive most of the time.
I quipped as we went along, “God forbid if you were on a budget.”
He whirled on me. “You said nothing about a budget.”
I held up a placating hand. “Okay, as you were soldier, you still have nine minutes and half a list to go. Focus.”
I lied. He had eleven. Just wanted to put a little fear of God in him.
KP in full panic mode was hilarious. “What?”
Yes, this was fun.
He did great all the way up until the last items — the wine he was tasked with choosing — and then it all threatened to go to shit. Somebody recognized him back in the produce aisle and was trailing us. He caught on much faster than I did. KP seemed to get more tense as they continued their pursuit. Finally, in the wine aisle, there was a confrontation.
“I’m sorry to bother you,” the interloper interjected.
“Then don’t.” I winced at how rude he sounded.
“No need to get testy,” the fan snapped.
KP took a deep breath and I could see him changing course. “Can I help you with something?”
“My wife and I loved ‘From Adam to Eve,’ and I just wanted you to sign my back.” He produced a sharpie pen, gave it to KP, turned around, and bent over.
KP shot me a this happens all the time look and signed a scrawling signature on the back of his shirt. The dude seemed satisfied, and I thought he was going to leave us in peace.
Before he came back.
“Actually, we loved the movie, it was much better than the book, but well, my wife wanted to know why you hired a Latina actress to play the lead?” Wow, that was bold. “We always envisioned her as being…you know, American.”
KP’s face immediately darkened two shades and had a glowing red color. Oh shit.
It wasn’t just his dick that reacted to stuff.
“You mean Maricela Cruz? The Oscar-winning actress from Boston?” He was very carefully measuring his words.
“Yeah. Did you never think of Charlize Theron?” Was this guy serious?
“That would be the Charlize Theron from South Africa you’re referring to?”
KP was keeping his cool, but I suspected it wouldn’t last long.
“Yeah, she’s fucking hot.” The guy was almost panting.
KP’s jaw was clenched together so tight, I thought he might break his teeth. “No. Now, please let me finish my shopping, we’re in a bit of a hurry.”
“Yeah, sure, just one more th—”