Free Dazzled by Jane Harvey-Berrick

good! I was getting used to the blond hair, and he was looking pretty buff in his white t-shirt and black jeans.
    Don’t think about that.
    His flat was about a minute from Hollywood Boulevard – how cool was that?!
    The taxi pulled up outside a small, neat, blue painted house with a black door and a neon sign that flashed the name ‘Dorothy’.
    “I know, I know,” grinned Miles, looking embarrassed. “But it’s a great apartment: that’s mine up there – the one with the balcony.”
    I was still stuck on the name. I mean, who names their house ‘Dorothy’?
    Miles was gazing up at his new home with quiet pride. Neither of us had ever really had our own place before, and I knew it was a big step for him. I hesitated to ask whether or not it had two bedrooms. And despite my best efforts, a small, quiet, but increasingly desperate part inside me was hoping that there was only one.
    “It’s fully furnished and it’s got cable and internet. Rhonda got it for me because they don’t mind short-term rentals. Come on in.”
    He lifted my case, and carried it easily up the steep flight of stairs to the first floor.
    “Have you been working out?” I asked, accusingly.
    “Er, well, yeah. It’s in the contract. Two to three hours a day, six days a week.”
    “You’re kidding me?”
    Miles shook his head. “Nope. Wish I was. I fucking hate the gym. My trainer’s a fascist bitch. I reckon she’s an ex-Soviet shot-putter or something.”
    I refrained from pointing out that Soviets and fascists probably weren’t best buddies. But this was Miles we were talking about. Bit challenged on the whole world history thing, unless it was to do with jazz.
    “They’ve given me a diet plan, too.”
    His voice dropped to barely a whisper. I could tell by his face that he was mortified. I managed to clamp my teeth shut to stop from saying something we’d both regret.
    “Oh. They think you’re… fat?”
    I could hardly bear to say the words – he looked perfect to me.
    He shrugged. “I guess. And they want me to see a dentist.”
    That really was the bloody limit!
    “Miles, you have great teeth. What on earth would they want to mess with that smile for?” I tried to keep it light, but really I was seething. Who were these people? What sort of bland, generic automaton did they want? “Tell them to piss off!”
    He smiled, but he still looked worried. “I don’t think I can. The contract…”
    “Look, give me the damn contract and I’ll tell you whether or not you’ve signed up for this shit. Okay?”
    Without warning, he wrapped his arms around me and hugged me to within an inch of my oh-so-confusing life.
    “I’m really glad you’re here, Clare. I guess I’ve been going a little crazy.”
    I wanted to think of a witty rejoinder, but my lips couldn’t form the words. Not while his arms were wrapped around me.
    He held me for a few precious moments, and I could feel his warm breath on my cheek, and his hard body pressed against mine.
    I’d begun to believe that after three weeks apart, after three weeks going cold turkey, that I’d have some immunity to how he made me feel.
    Yeah, dumb, I know.
    He let me go with a grin and pulled a door key out of his pocket.
    The hallway outside the apartment was stylishly decorated for someone of Donald Trump’s subtle tastes, but at least it was clean and nearly new.
    Miles pushed open his front door with a flourish and shy smile.
    “Enter, m’lady.”
    “Thank you, kind sir, I… Bloody hell!”
    The apartment was lavish – one huge room hung with an enormous, crystal chandelier.
    “Jesus, Miles! How much is this place costing?”
    He frowned then shook his head, bemused. “I don’t know. Rhonda arranged it all. I love it – it’s… big.”
    “Big? You could park mum and dad’s whole house in here!”
    “Yeah, I know. Cool, isn’t it?”
    He winked and gave me a sly glance. Oh, what the hell. Why shouldn’t he enjoy it all? Sadly, I noted that there were