A Kiss and a Cuddle (3 page)

The
next day I woke up to the sound of my phone buzzing uncontrollably on my
bedside table.  I took off my sleeping mask that hid the streams of sunshine
seeping through my white blinds.

“One
second, one second…” I croaked, and quickly coughed, trying to clear my morning
voice.  I picked up my phone and answered, “Hello?”

“Rose? 
Is that you?” Derek’s voice on the other end of the phone sounded confused.

“Yes,
yes, it is me.  This is just my morning voice…” I squawked and cleared my
throat loudly into the phone for Derek to hear.  “Sorry, that was probably too
much information there.”

“Your
voice always sounds great, Rose.  Besides, I kind of like it like this… very
husky.”

“Haha,
oh please,” I laughed and then switched on my ultra-sultry voice, “What are you
wearing, Mister?”

“Don’t
play with me, Rose!  Though I am glad to hear you laugh after what happened
last night,” he said sincerely.

“Ugh. 
Last night.”  The memories came flooding back to me – the empty lounge, the
smug grin on Rex’s face, the repulsive love letter.  “I don’t think I will ever
fully recover from last night, Derek.”

“Oh,
I think you will.  Just don’t lie in bed and hold a pity party for one all
day.  Come meet me at Caribou Coffee and we will have a party for two,” Derek
said sweetly. 

“But…
I want to host a pity party for one.  Just for one day… come on, please?” I
said persuasively.  I needed some alone time to lick my wounds.  I hadn’t slept
well the night before, due to the angry thoughts swirling around in my head.

“Not
allowed!  I’m treating you to your favorite frothy drink, and there is nothing
you can do about it.  See you there at noon,” he said sternly before hanging up
the phone.  He didn’t give me a chance to say no or goodbye.

I
looked over at the clock to see it was already 11:30am.  I groaned and rolled
over, pulling my soft white duvet over my head.  I had 30 minutes to lie there
and feel sorry for myself… and to curse Rex Byron’s name… and I was going to
enjoy every minute of it.

“Rose! 
You’re here!” Derek greeted me with a smile from ear to ear and a big hug.  The
café looked cosy with warm natural wood tables and comfy, marshmallow-like
chairs and couches inside. “Let’s get in line, and we can order whatever we
want.  Anything for you.”  He kept one arm on the small of my back.

“Anything?”
I asked like a happy little girl, and I looked up at the menu. 

“Yup. 
And you know what?  How about for the day, we can be anyone we want to as
well,” he said.  I looked at him, and he could tell that I was confused.  “Here’s
the plan… when the barista asks for your name to write on the cup, you can say
whatever you want it to be.  Madonna, Beyoncé, anyone!”

“Deal!”
I agreed excitedly.  This sounded like fun.  My mind raced as I tried to think
of all the people I wanted to be.  I didn’t follow modern celebrities or watch
a lot of movies.  It was harder work than I thought.

When
it was my turn to order, I asked for a medium soy latte with extra whip cream.

“And
your name, ma’am?” the barista inquired.

“Rapunzel.”

She
gave me a puzzled look.  “Like the Disney character?” she asked.

“Yes. 
Exactly like the Disney character,” I replied with a straight face.  I could
hear Derek stifling his laughter behind me.

I
moved to the other side of the café to wait for my soy latte.  I watched Derek
speaking to the barista.  She let out a wild laugh, and then he walked towards
me.

“What
name did you say?” I asked giddily.

“Sergio,”
Derek replied.

“Sergio?! 
You don’t even slightly resemble a Spanish man who could pull of the name
Sergio,” I joked.  “You have blonde hair, blue eyes, and I’ll bet you don’t
know the difference between a burrito and an enchilada!”

“The
difference is corn, Rose.  Something you are familiar with, based on all your
corny jokes,” Derek jabbed back at me. 

The
barista handed me my soy latte.  She looked at Derek and said, “Sergio, I will
bring your drink to your table.”

“Perfect. 
Thanks,” he replied.

“My
pleasure, Sergio,” she said.  There was something distinctly seductive about
the way she said Sergio, all breathy with a tongue roll.

Derek
was oblivious to the seduction as he walked away from her and said to me, “Besides,
Rose, what is wrong with Sergio?  I’ve always wanted to be a Sergio.  Don’t you
want a brave, strong man named Sergio to hold you tight at night?”

“I
can’t say that is one of my fantasies.  Sorry, Sergio…” I replied, as we walked
outside of the café towards a bamboo table on the outside patio.

“Oh
no, no, no, Senorita, you can’t say no to Sergio,” Derek started up his
slimiest Spanish accent.  “You haven’t even tried my salsa.”

“Your
salsa?” I challenged.

“Si,
si, my tasty little Chiquita.  My salsa… yes, I want you to try my spicy nacho
salsa and then try my spicy salsa dancing” he said with a thick Spanish accent
while gyrating his hips.

“Sit
your salsa shaking bottom down, Sergio!” I laughed and patted his seat.  “I
want my Derek back.”

“Fine,
fine, I’m back.  In all my blonde hair, blue eyed, friend zone glory!” Derek
smiled and winked at me.

Just
then the barista appeared with Derek’s drink.  She slowly bent over to place it
in front of him.  Her blonde hair was tied up in a high bun, and she was
wearing an apron with cartoon cupcakes over it.  It was admittedly cute, for an
employee uniform.  She said, “For you, Sergio,” with the provocative tongue
roll and all.

“Oh,
thank you,” he replied blankly, barely looking up.

She
continued to stand there expectantly, and nobody knew where to look.  Except
her.  She was starting at Derek.  After some time, she managed to say to him,
“So, my name is Bailey, but you can call me Babs.”

I
murmured under my breath, “I think I’ll just call you Bailey, thanks.”  Derek
gave me a look to say ‘Behave!’, but ‘Babs’ didn’t even notice.  She was still
in a Derek trance.

“Ok,
thanks, Babs,” he smiled politely and nodded his head to stop the
conversation.  He looked back towards me and grabbed his drink.  She sashayed
back inside, and I could see she was joyfully telling her coworkers about her
flirty exchange, albeit as one-sided as it was.  Babs was actually a fitting
name for her, she was tiny and cute like a rabbit, but in the most annoying
way.  I couldn’t explain why she got under my skin so much.

“Well,
she clearly likes you,” I said to Derek.

“She’s
just being polite.  She is paid to do that,” he replied.

“She’s
paid to be polite to
everyone
, and that wasn’t the case with me. 
Somebody has a not-so-secret admirer...” I laughed.

“Seriously,
Rose.  Stop.”  He actually got a little red in the face, and I knew it was time
to change the subject.

I
quickly started to talk about the disaster of a show last night.  We couldn’t
believe the unfortunate fate that brought Rex Byron into the lounge last
night.  As usual, Derek tried to raise my spirits, and he actually managed to
make me feel marginally better.

“Ello
ello, mate,” Derek mimicked his best posh accent.  “My name is Rex, and the
world revolves around me.”

“America,
I have arrived!” I put on my snobbiest British accent.  “Please, enjoy watching
me sit here, gracing your couch with my
royal
buttocks.”

“My
parents would be so proud of me!  Mum and Dad – look at me clubbing and taking
off my clothes!”  Derek said, and we laughed hysterically. 

“Oh
wait, he only has his dad left now,” I said and felt a twinge of guilt.  “Okay,
maybe we’ve gone far enough.”

“Yes,
you were still the star of the show last night, Rose,” Derek said, looking into
my eyes.  “Anyway, I’ve got to head to my studio to record my latest song.  It
was great to see you today.  See you later, Rapunzel.”  He gave me a peck on
the cheek and got up to leave.

“Thank
you for cheering me up.  I think I’ll sit here and finish my soy latte in the
sun,” I replied.  As Derek walked out, I saw Babs attentively watch him from
behind the espresso machine.  

I
slowly sipped my soy latte and watched people walk by on the street.  The
slow-paced Sunday afternoon was the perfect setting to recharge my batteries
and to find the right words to finish my final song for the album.  I
absolutely loved writing lyrics and finding the perfect words to tell the story
in the song.  If I wasn’t a songstress, I would be a poetess. 

I
took out my lyric book, and I began to scribble words down.  I was trying to
write a love song.  I wrote, “
You told me that you loved me, and I said me
too.  There is nothing in this world I wouldn’t do.  But your eyes looked away,
and I sensed you cooled
.”  No, no, no, Rose.  This was supposed to be a
love song.  Why did I always turn it into a tragedy?  Let’s try this again.
 
“
Why
do people say they fall in love?  I didn’t fall lower, I soared above.  What I
am trying to say is that I flew in love with you… until you tried to clip my
wings and left me with a sting...
”  Okay, this clearly wasn’t working.  And
the bird metaphors were a bit much.  I scratched a line through the page of
lyrics.  I would have to try to write the lyrics another day.

As
I took the last, long swig of my soy latte, I could sense a shadow coming over
me as I sat on the patio.  I glanced behind me, eyes wide, and tucked my lyric
book under my bag.  All I could see was a backlit shadowy figure.  I didn’t
know who it was.  As he moved out of the sun’s rays, I could recognize the
boyish grin from the night before, but somewhat disguised with an American
baseball hat and a sports jersey.

“Well,
what a coincidence!” he exclaimed in a high-pitched British accent.  I knew
that this was, by no means, a coincidence.

“So
you are allowed to walk the streets all by yourself – you know, being
royalty
and all?  Did you know that your bodyguards refer to you as
Your Royal Heir
?”
I asked sharply, looking around for his bodyguards.  Just as I thought, there
were two bald men sitting on a bench down the road, wearing jeans and t-shirts. 
They were trying to act nonchalantly, but they kept a keen eye on Rex.

“Ah,
yes, well I can get carried away with titles, but my name, Rex, does mean
‘King’.  So you know, I am practically royalty.  Also, I need to have
bodyguards.  You see, when you are in a position such as I am in, you have to…”
he started to speak until I cut him off.

“Oh,
I know what position you are in.  I know who you are; you don’t need to brag. 
Actually, I know a bit too much about you, based on your escapades in L.A. a
little while ago,” I said looking him up and down with my eyebrows raised.  I
remembered the online images of Rex being stark naked in his L.A. hotel room a
few years ago.  It was why I was surprised to see that the Byron Family let Rex
visit the USA again with minimal supervision.

“Ah,
I am glad you follow me in the media.  I am flattered,” he smirked and squinted
his eyes as he gazed up to the sun, trying to strike a pose, I assumed.
“Anyway, I wanted to come say hi and to give you this.”  He revealed a rose
from behind his back and pushed it towards my face.  “A rose for a Rose.”

I
scoffed and put the rose on the table.  “Do you know how many guys have tried
to use that line?” I asked bluntly.

“But
I am not just any guy…”

“Oh
please, spare me the
royal
introduction.  I know you, and you have
seemed to mistaken your own shadow for a god, but you are just an heir.  You
didn’t even work for your money.  You just live off of your dad’s artistic
talent.  I will bet you don’t even like art.  Is it too abstract and confusing
for you?”

“I
will have you know that I got a B in Fine Art at college.”

“Which
specialty in Fine Art?”

“In
Visual Art, but you can also tell I am skilled at the fine art of flirting,” he
announced proudly.

“Oh
gosh, aren’t you proud of yourself for making a joke that not only hints at
your womanizing ways, but also makes me gag at the same time.”

“You
are a feisty one, aren’t you?” he asked playfully.  It seemed like he was
enjoying my rude comments.  How could you make someone go away when they loved
being insulted?  He jumped the small patio fence to take a seat next to me.  He
was actually physically bigger than I always imagined him.  He was tall with
broad shoulders and a solid body.

I
hastily jumped out of my chair and grabbed my bag.  I was not about to sit with
him over a pleasant cup of tea.  “I was just leaving.  Next time you want to be
the center of attention, don’t come to my gig,” I said coolly, but I couldn’t
completely mask the pain in my voice.

“Rose,
I am sorry.  I didn’t know about your gig,” he pleaded.  “Will you meet me here
tomorrow at 2PM, so I can make it up to you?”

I
was already walking away from the table as I replied, “Sorry, no.”  I exited
the café and didn’t look back.

I
had no idea what type of games he was trying to play with me, but I would not
be involved in his next American scandal.