Say Cheese Read Free Page A

comes up to me, says, ‘You know what my shirt’s made of?’ I go, ‘What?’ He goes, ‘Boyfriend material.’”
    Felix laughed. “He
musta
been fine.”
    â€œYou wanna know how fine he was?”
    â€œHow fine was he?”
    â€œHe wasn’t even
wearing
a shirt, and I let him get away with that line.”
    â€œWhat a pushover!”
    Shep laughed with a shrug:
Guilty.
    Felix did a backbend over the bar, showcasing a slice of taut, tan tummy, and then straightened up in his seat with another bottle of bourbon. Shep held his finger toward the weighted bottom of his glass to indicate he only cared for a sip, smiled when Felix honored the request. Felix poured an inch over the two ice cubes in his own glass, and then raised it for a clink.
    â€œLet me ask you something, Sheppy.”
    Shep laughed. “Is it ‘May I call you Sheppy?’ Cuz the answer is ‘Heavens, no.’”
    Felix waved away this concern, leaned in close. “How come you’ve never told me I’m handsome?”
    Shep’s heart sank. He was funny, he had good taste in movies, even seemed to have a little bit of a sarcastic streak.
And apparently he’s every bit as self-centered and insecure as every other wannabe L.A. dipshit
. How disappointing.
    â€œI don’t know,” Shep said. “I guess I figured you must know by now. Doesn’t everybody tell you you’re handsome?”
    â€œAll the time,” Felix said. “It’s all most people see when they look at me. Guys don’t care if I’m nice or I’m mean, if I’m smart or I’m stupid....”
    â€œIt’s not all I see,” Shep said, surprised by this unexpected turn. He wasn’t begging for empty praise at all.
    â€œI know,” Felix said. “And I like it. Tell me, Sheppy—what
do
you see?”
    â€œI see... passion.”
    Felix raised a suggestive eyebrow. “Not yet you don’t.”
    Shep smiled. “Not that kind. You know—Passion. Life. I see you laugh, I see you sing. I see you dance across the room when your favorite song is on.”
    â€œSo you
are
watching my ass!”
    â€œHey, I said your looks aren’t all I see, I didn’t say I leave my eyes at home when I come into work.”
    Felix smiled. “You’re not so bad yourself. You wanna know what I see when I look at you, Sheppy?”
    Shep drained his drink and set his glass on the bar with a thunk. “Tell me.”
    Felix leaned in again, teetering on the edge of his stool. “I see the next man I’m gonna kiss.”
    â€œTalk about a line.”
    Talk about a kiss....
    THE RICKETY We’ll Take You There! Lines MD-80 smacked the Texas runway, bouncing along on taxi until Shep glanced out the window to see if perhaps they’d landed on a dirt road in error. Shortly, the flying bucket of bolts lurched to a halt at the gate, and Shep wasn’t surprised to see two women on their knees in the jet bridge kiss the ground as he hurried past.
    His pal at the ticket counter in New Orleans had given him a printed card with little more on it, as far as he could tell, than his name and the airport code L-A-X, and sent him on his way with instructions to roll up at the gate for the earliest Los Angeles departure he could find and hope for the best. He scanned the departure screens and spied an 11:15 flight. It was eleven o’clock now. If he was going to get on that plane, it would have to be close by. He was still too full of all-you-can-eat bacon to be running through airports, especially in his flip flops. Gate 52, the screen said. He looked around. He was standing at Gate 48.
Hot dog!
    It was twenty after eleven by the time he finally tracked down Gate 52, just in time to see the carnival-colored airplane taxi out of sight.
    â€œBut I wanted on that flight!” he cried.
    â€œNow you tell me,” cracked a wide-hipped, high-haired youth