Free Access All Areas by Alice Severin

everything but keys and some money and my phone and tried to be as quiet as I could, but I heard Alice’s voice.
    “Lily, what’s going on?”
    “I’m going out. I’m going to see him. I need to leave right now.”
    She called out from her room. “Don’t think too much. Remember—‘je ne regrette rien.’”
    And I was off, down the stairs as fast as I could. I half ran, half skipped to the park, my heart beating. Was this really happening? It had stopped raining, and everything was shining wetly under the streetlamps. A few cars went past. I reached the corner and looked around. Nothing. I tried to take some deep breaths of the cold night air. I felt more awake than I ever had in my life. I didn’t want to panic. I didn’t even want to think about it—who he was, any of it. I just wanted to act. I didn’t even know what he wanted, it occurred to me. Maybe I should have brought the notebook. Maybe he just couldn’t sleep and decided to finish the interview. And here I was, excited like a little kid. I shut my eyes. I could do this.
    When I opened them again, there was a black limo slowing down. Holy fuck. It slid into place in front of me and the back door opened, ghostly. I stood there for a moment, stunned.
    “Get in.” That voice, used to giving out commands and being answered, went through me, electric. My body had already answered, but I took one last deep breath to try and fight it.
    I climbed in and shut the door. There was a bottle of champagne, opened, and two glasses. I turned my head to the back of the limo. And there he was, slouched against the back, his long legs tightly encased in black jeans, ending finally at black boots with a slash by the ankle. A white t-shirt and a black leather jacket. His hair was an artfully tangled mess. And his eyes, under his dark brows, were staring at me with a strange intensity.
    “You came.”
    “You asked me to.”
    “I’m glad you don’t sleep either.” He pressed a button, and the dark window between the front and the back came down an inch. “Harry, just drive around. Maybe the Park. Wherever.”
    “Yes sir, no problem.” The window went back up with a slight mechanical noise and the limo pulled into traffic. The only lights were the small strip lights along the side, and the street lights from outside, made dim by the tinted glass. There was a sunroof as well, which was letting in a rhythmic flash of lights from overhead. But that glass was tinted as well, so the effect was oddly soothing.
    He rose up slightly out of his seat. “Champagne?”
    “I thought you didn’t drink.”
    “Sometimes, a little, for special occasions. This is special. You agreed to come out.” His 3am voice was like honey on fire. I wanted him to just keep talking. He came closer and poured us each a glass of champagne. It was a delicate rose color, with tiny bubbles. I held it to my nose, and inhaled. With the perfume of the wine I could detect his scent on him again, and I felt as though all my senses were being called from some other dimension.
    “It’s Billecart Salmon 97. A very good year.” And with that he touched his glass to mine, and slid back along to the corner of the sofa-like limo seat. He looked at me. “I don’t bite. Come sit next to me.”
    Feeling slightly foolish, I slid along the leather seat to sit next to him. I kept a small distance between us, and with a deep breath, I stretched out my legs and took a sip of the champagne. “This is one of my favorites; it’s been a long time.” I blushed, thinking of what I had just said, and glanced over at him. He was smiling.
    “Ah, ok, a connoisseur. I like that. What other pleasures demand your refined tastes?” His voice was a low murmur again. I could feel his breath against my ear. I didn’t dare move. “You’re too tense, but I think I like that.” He moved away slightly and drank some of his champagne. I felt cold where he had been that close to me, and I wished he would come back. I