Page 40 of Hey Girl
Mayzie rolls her eyes, pouring red liquid into his glass while he holds his fingers to his chin.
“Kristen Bell - no,” he shakes his head, blinking away whatever thought that was as Mayzie comes over to me and sets the other two glasses down while she pours. “Jennifer Lawrence,” he squints his eyes before shaking his head brashly again. “No! Come on, Enrique, think!” He scolds himself before taking a hearty drink of the wine as if it’s genius juice.
“What’s he doing?” I whisper, as Mayzie hands me a glass.
“Oh,” she lightly guffaws as she lifts her own glass. “Enrique likes to assign a certain celebrity to all his new clients. It helps with his creative vision,” she shrugs casually before sipping her wine.
“Oh,” I nod absently before bringing the glass to my lips and taking a drink. The liquid is strong but fruity and it leaves a delightfully warm trail behind as it ventures down my throat to my stomach. Ooh…that’s good.
“Exactly,” Enrique pipes up in response to Mayzie’s explanation of his technique. “Take your girl here,” he gestures an arm at her. “The little girl next door trying to look tough in her ripped jeans….”
Mayzie rolls her eyes.
“A little Jenna Dewan meets Anna Kendrick combo in my mind.” He points to his head before clapping. “And bam! Sweet and sexy little badass rock wife.” He presents her with another wave as I take another sip, drinking in his words as well as the wine.
“And Matt’s boho beauty wife Melanie?” He continues. “Tiffany Amber Thiessen logged away and ka-chow! Boho smoke show baby!”
I nod, starting to get it and tilt my glass again, only to find it’s empty. And my nerves are gone. I’m listening to Enrique as if I’ve known him for years, and we’re just having chill banter in a bathroom. Weird.
Enrique straightens up, looking pleased with himself. Downing the rest of his own glass, he sets it down. “I’m going to fetch my artillery from the front door,” he announces and departs out the door.
“Well?” Mayzie tests the Randall, taking a pulse on my current mental state. “How are you doing there?” She asks, with a curious tilt of her head.
“I’m…shockingly okay,” I say, and once again, didn’t stammer. “No one’s ever gotten through to me that I’m not broken quite like he has,” I muse.
“Oh honey, I’m glad,” she exhales, rubbing my back comfortingly.
I don’t know if this is my moment that Enrique was referring to, but something’s happening to me as we speak. I draw in a long, deep breath, inflating my lungs with the imaginary courage of a lion. Letting my chest puff up and reveling in the pleasure, I hold it for a moment before letting it out like a beautiful cleanse, just as Enrique re-emerges in the doorway, this time toting two very large and elaborate black briefcases.
“I’ve got it,” it blurts out ominously as he stares at me.
“Got what?” Mayzie and I both ask.
“Rachel McAdams!” He drops one of the briefcases to point at me.
“Circa what?” Mayzie asks, eyebrows raised in interest.
“Circa sucking Ryan Gosling’s face off on stage at the MTV Movie Awards!” He announces, unfaltering.
“Yes!” Mayzie cries as I feel a zing of adrenaline shoot up my chest. It’s like Enrique is psychic and guessed my ultimate celebrity thirst trap.
Note to self: Spank off to The Notebook later.
Looking like someone that got to play real life tonsil hockey with Ryan? Sign me up.
I take another fortifying breath and hold out my glass.
“Mayzie… hit me.” She giggles lightly as she turns for the wine bottle. I suck up the gumption to look Enrique solemnly in the eye. “Enrique… do your all.”
He does a double take as he sets down the other briefcase, looking up in disbelief. “My all? As in… no restrictions?” his gaze seeks mine for confirmation and I narrow my eyes.
“Go forth with your vision and don’t hold back!” I affirm his hopes and dreams as is face contorts, trying to keep the tears welling up in his eyes from springing free.
“Oh my God, I’m so happy,” he sniffs.
12
CHRIS