by L. M. Reed
~ * * ~
“Okay, spill,” I demanded, sitting in the middle of Felicia’s bed.
“I will if you will,” Felicia countered.
“Alright, but you first,” I acknowledged, “Since I had to rescue you.”
“I broke up with Allen last night.”
“But you rode together this morning,” I pointed out.
“That was your fault.”
“My fault?”
“Michael was supposed to be Allen’s ride to church.”
“Michael was…” I began, “with me,” I finished, comprehension finally dawning.
“Exactly,” Felicia said smugly. “You owe me.”
“But wait…Are you telling me Allen had no other way to get to church?” I asked in disbelief.
“Allen’s parents don’t go to church, and aren’t all that thrilled that Allen does,” Felicia informed me. “Michael started inviting him a couple of years ago, when they first became friends. Allen could have ridden with Michael’s parents, but decided to use it as an excuse to call me and beg a lift.”
“So Allen was hoping to spend time with you today and get you to change your mind,” I concluded.
“That pretty much sums it up,” Felicia agreed. “I told him you and I had plans.”
“Liar, liar pants on fire,” I chanted.
“So what’s up with you and Michael?” Felicia asked, ignoring my teasing.
“I’m not exactly sure how to put this,” I hesitated. “Michael seemed to think we were a ‘thing’, and I didn’t want to be a ‘thing’, so…”
“You dumped him,” Felicia finished for me.
“It’s not really dumping if you weren’t going together in the first place,” I objected.
“You dumped him,” Felicia asserted.
“Okay, I dumped him,” I allowed, giving up. “Why did you dump Allen? I thought things were going great.”
“I got tired of him,” was the surprising answer.
That didn’t sound like Felicia at all; it sounded too…hard-boiled. I wasn’t sure how to respond to that, so I decided to skim over it.
“Where do you want to go for lunch?” I asked instead.
“I had an idea,” Felicia said, her usual enthusiasm back in her voice. “Why don’t we raid the fridge and watch the first two Agent Jack Knight movies in the media room. You said you wanted to see them again once you finished reading the books.”
“Great!” I replied. “You don’t mind?”
“Would I ever turn down a chance to watch that gorgeous hunk of manhood on the big screen?” Felicia asked.
“Mitch Hunter is something,” I agreed. “Wonder where they found him?”
“Mom told me that he wasn’t even an actor. The only thing the public knows is that he was a ranch hand. Mom told me he was managing a ranch in one of those big states up north, like Wyoming or Montana, for some bigwig in Hollywood who used it as a “retreat”. The producer or director, I forget which, had been searching for almost a year for someone to play the part and had just about given up when he was invited to the ranch for a holiday. As soon as he saw Mitch Hunter, he knew he was the guy, but at first Mitch refused to do a screen test. It wasn’t until after he met the author that he finally agreed to try out for the part.”
“Why?”
“I’m not sure,” Felicia admitted. “I know part of the problem had to do with publicity, he doesn’t like it, but I’m not sure of the details. That’s all Mom would tell me.”
“Well, let’s not keep the gorgeous hunk of manhood waiting,” I suggested.
“Let’s not,” Felicia agreed wholeheartedly.
