Johnny's POV
We're in the kitchen which is a mixture of sunflower yellow, cream, and terracotta. The marble countertops give it this European feel. She's sitting on a stool at one of the counters in the middle, enjoying her pizza.
"For some reason I'm the only one in my family that likes blue cheese. It tastes amazing on burgers and pizza," she says.
"You can't have buffalo chicken anything without the blue cheese," I say pouring myself a beer.
"True it always makes it so much better," she says as I sit down on the stool next to her.
I take a bite of my slice savoring the flavor; so much more comforting than what we'd have eaten for dinner at that boring gala.
"I like a girl who eats and really enjoys her food," I tell her.
"I workout but no way would I ever give up the foods I love," she says.
"I like to eat. Cooking not so much. Frozen dinners, takeout, pizza, and fast food were my life for a little while. But I do like home cooked meals." I let her know.
"So that's why you made sure this kitchen is a chef's kitchen. So you cook can whip you up whatever you like anytime," she points out.
"I think since I have the money I might as well live comfortably. The bachelor pad just wasn't doing it for me anymore," I admit
"You sound like some guy who's about to get married and have multiples," she tells me.
"Still a bachelor and I definitely don't want kids. But I wanted a place with a lot of land. There's a rose garden out in the back and a pool. It's peaceful which I could use, this business is very stressful," I say.
"I'm sure explosions, gun shots, and moving shipments cloud your mind," she says.
"Yeah it's a little more complex than hairspray and lipstick," I comment.
"I like hair and makeup, I'm actually considering getting into cosmetology," she tells me.
"Are you serious?" I ask her.
She nods, "Yeah!" she smiles. "I spend hours making sure my hair is perfect, trying out all sorts of styles and I'm always experimenting with my makeup. Maybe beauty school would be good for me. I could open my own salon one day."
"Or you could do movie makeup and create looks for monsters and all sorts of gory shit," I say.
"That too! Who knows maybe I'll be doing hair and makeup on the set of one of Derrick's big blockbuster hits," she says.
Hearing that guy's name irks me. "You can do so much better than hair and makeup on a low budget indie movie starring Derrick," I tell her.
"You don't think Derrick will be the next big thing?" she asks.
"No I don't and I don't care that TV critics are calling him that. Cocky actors like Derrick are a dime a dozen. That industry is full of fakes," I tell her.
"I got offers to be a child actress when I was little. You know those scouts that visit malls across the country looking for the next big thing. Mom completely freaked and off course didn't let me go to one audition and dad was glad because it would've put him in the spotlight," she tells me.
"Those kids grow up to be brats with a lot of problems," I say.
"Yeah because I didn't grow up with any problems that came from me growing up a mob princess," she rolls her eyes.
"Okay so you have a few issues, you went through things no child should've been through, but it's only made you stronger. You aren't strung out on drugs because mommy and daddy used you as their breadwinner," I let her know.
"Your right, let's move off this topic. But I would look pretty on the big screen, right?" she asks biting her glossy red lower lip into this irresistible pout.
"Of course you'd look gorgeous but you look gorgeous anywhere," I say.
"I know," she giggles. "Let's unpack those boxes."
We get up and head to the living room that is full of boxes.
She gather's her long hair into a messy ponytail before grabbing a box cutter. I can't even remember what I packed in those boxes. She pulls out a something wrapped in bubble wrap. She peels away the bubble wrap to reveal a music box with a carousel on top.
"Johnny, it's beautiful," she softly speaks. Then she turns the knob underneath it so the soft melody is playing and the horses are moving in a circle.
"It was my mother's," I say walking over to her. "Her father gave it to her when she was a little girl."
"It must be really special for you to keep it so long," she says. "Are you gonna give it to your daughter someday?"
"I'm never having children," I inform her taking the music box out of her hands and stopping the knob from turning which makes the tune stop.
"No heir to all of this?' she uses her hands to emphasize as she points around the room.
"I wouldn't want children to grow up in the life of despair that comes with it," I set the music box down on the ground.
She places her hands over mine. "What if the right woman comes along and she wants to have children?"
"She's not the right woman than because no woman who is 'the one' for me would want to raise children in this lifestyle," I inform her. "Maybe because your mother shielded you away from a lot of it you don't see how truly bad it is, I do."
"I see things just fine," she assures me. "You're the one who doesn't want to open up to the possibilities. Let yourself feel for a change."
"I feel things just fine," I tell her. "Let me show you." I pull her close and put one hand on the back of her head while the other one is on her lower back. Our lips are following their own rhythm that feels so familiar.
We break apart. "I can't concentrate when you kiss me like that," she says breathless.
"Then let's leave the unpacking for later," I declare pulling my shirt off and my lips meet her again as my hands roam up her shirt.
The bra she's wearing doesn't have a clasp it has strings. "Are you wearing a bikini?" I ask.
"I know you have the hot tub up and running. I figured maybe we could chill in there for a bit," she says bashfully.
"You read my mind," I say taking her hand in mine and leading her out back.